by Maya James
Before I can cry out, I hear Justin's breath catch and a low rumble emerge from his chest. He knows I'm close, and he sets himself free. The ecstasy on his gorgeous face tips me over the edge. I cannot see his orgasm without erupting in my own. All the muscles in my vaginal path contract, becoming the epicenter of a massive explosion of joy that consumes every inch of me from my trembling legs to my hands still yanking his tie.
Justin rubs my clit until I can't take his touch any longer, twitching and jerking myself away from his hand. I pant, trying to catch my breath as his large cock slides out of me, happily spent.
As he's done since day one, Justin insists I clean up first in his private restroom. He goes in after me and I watch him dress again when he comes out, smiling at him for making me so happy.
He reads me well and comes to me, softly cupping my face with his hands. "I missed you, Warrior," he whispers before kissing me.
Swoon!
JUSTIN IS INTENTLY LISTENING to everything we have to tell him. Sylvester silently paces around almost looking confused that we are not paying attention to him; his prerecorded snarling is wasted on us. We have the large display littered with our latest surveillance files, trying to decipher the direction they are pointing us in.
At the top left corner of the screen, our guy, Mr. John Roberts. His name has been around a long time in a great many financial and political circles. His family was huge in Southern oil, their influence grew to infamous proportions. If you wanted to create a political backing team, you wanted him on it. Fortunately, he's one of the founders of our client group. Owning politicians has been vital to his family's businesses for years. Our group didn't go after him to include him, he practically made it himself.
So it was not surprising that he was approached by someone else to see if he wanted to join their group. Nor was it surprising that he brought it right to Justin when it happened. He doesn't want anyone fucking up his investment. He wants it fixed, and Justin is his guy for that.
Blake Adams was the next connection on the screen, the man that had approached Mr. Roberts a while back. The rest of our group isn't yet aware of this, only Mr. Roberts and we know about it, but that has to change soon. Blake is less well known, but almost as wealthy—a great combination. He's in Properties Management; the buying, leasing, and selling some of the largest buildings in DC, Dallas, Miami and New York.
Blake looks like the complete sleaze, flowing, half-curly blonde hair, a crooked smile, and a twinkle in his eye that warns you that you're about to get fucked in the ass before he wipes himself clean on your sheets and leaves while you're crying. He is not someone Panther can just go throw some wire taps on to catch him. He was sure to have his own security group, the problem was—who is it?
Justin asked Mr. Roberts to string Blake along for a while to get more information, but it wasn't working, and more importantly it was becoming too dangerous for him, and Justin refused to put him in any risk. Before the meeting with Lewis today, Justin had met with Mr. Roberts and told him to bail out.
Mr. Roberts wanted to keep going and tried to refuse but he trusts Justin, always has from what they've told me. Once Justin explained risk of exposure to Lewis and the entire team, he consented. There will be other ways to find out what was needed.
This is where our latest information comes in. I'm paying the upmost attention now, hanging on any reaction from Justin. If we are in any danger, this is where it will come from. Whether they plan to come for Justin, or for me to get to him, if we are going to protect each other, we have to start here.
If we were followed at the wineries, then they are already on our tail, and the group is in jeopardy. Even if not, we don't have much time and this is the way. If they're onto us or not, this is how we stop them, this is how I protect the love of my life. I can't stand being away from him for a single night. I'd hate to imagine anything more serious keeping us apart.
We've had Blake Adams followed for the last few weeks, starting not long after we were successful in Lewis winning the election. Justin wanted to wait for that, to see if anything would come out on its own during election process. He didn't think it would and he was right, but it was better to be careful. The special election happened too soon for anyone else to react and we had the jump on everyone since we orchestrated the whole thing in the first place.
Someone out there wants this seat and they don't think Lewis is the man for the job. But they're being careful, and they might know who we are; they might know what they're up against. That gives them an advantage, because we're just starting to get a clue.
Every other file up on the screen is a result of painstaking surveillance, monitoring everyone Blake Adams has had contact with in person, by phone, even through email, and weeding that list down to anything possibly related to Blake, Lewis, or politics at all.
And now we have a few names for Justin.
Blake had two brief meetings, one with Teresa Holster, a lobbyist for the health insurance industry, and another with Nelson Seals, Farming and Agriculture. This normally would have meant nothing, except Teresa and Nelson, two people that have nothing to do with each other, have been meeting with each other constantly. According to their phone records, it began right after we made Senator Wilkins resign and the seat was open.
Justin was reading their files, separating them from the rest. "They're in," he says flatly. "They have no business talking to each other otherwise, so this is their business. There's no past overlap or connection between the two of them, or with Blake Adams."
He looks around at us just to be sure we all agree, and we do.
"We need to back off of Blake now and start following these two," I say full of confidence.
John and Lena look surprised to hear me say that. They stare at me, waiting for me to explain myself.
"Blake is a money guy. He'll be more careful, more conscious of us on his tail. These two, they're pawns. They have to stick their necks out more often than the others, and they haven't had to develop a wicked sense of suspicion about everyone around them the way their wealthy counterparts have."
Lena looks proud of me. So does Justin.
I continue, "We can get the inside on these two easier, reduce our risk. They'll lead us to the other pawns, and we'll be able to connect the dots from all the pawns to all the power players."
"What about their candidate? Shouldn't we be trying to find out who they're looking to move in?" John asks. His top button was undone, his tie loosened. I expect that when he stands, one side of his shirt will be untucked.
"We are," I answer as-a-matter-of-factly. "He'll be one of the pawns—like Lewis. Their candidate is not critical, we have someone more important to find, and not a lot of time to do it."
"Who's that?" John asks, looking upset to be the last one of us to put it all together.
"Me!" Justin snaps. "We have to find our counterpart, their security—and hopefully before they find us."
"HERE YOU GO, GUYS," Trisha says happily, bringing us an open bottle of Shiraz and filing our glasses. She looks beautiful as ever in the black top and pants they wear here.
"How's Sam," I ask quickly before she has to saunter off to other tables.
"Hot as always," she jokes, flaking her pretty smile. "I'll miss him tonight, but he's all mine tomorrow."
She has an order up and vanishes into the kitchen to get it. I love seeing the bounce in her step. Almost fittingly, "Roar" by Katy Perry begins to drift out of the speakers.
Around the bar, all the familiar faces of the regulars are here. Four Guys are here, that's what Trisha and I have begun calling them. They're more regular than Justin and I are capable of being. It seems they practically live here five nights of the week. All of them are nice guys. I remember the night they jumped in to help me stop Justin from killing Steve right here in the Grill. There's a few scattered couples around the dining room that I see often as well.
This place has a feeling like being home, and I need that now, with Christmas some
how already just two days away.
How the fuck?
I'm excited as hell, but it's certainly different experiencing a holiday in the city. There was an early snow yesterday that helped. It was only a soft dusting, nothing sticking to the ground, but for a bit it was comforting like a little piece of home falling from the sky.
It was going to be my first Christmas ever away from home, from my family. Even through college, I made it back for every big holiday. There's just no time this year with Melissa coming right after and I think Justin needs more prep-time to build in to meeting everyone.
Justin senses my sudden sadness. "Thinking about home again?" he asks softly with an understanding that makes me love him more each time I see him.
I nod at him because I don't want to talk about it; that makes it worse every time. He reaches across the table and holds my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles gently.
We placed our order with Trisha a short time later, and while eating Justin has me laughing again, my dolefulness eventually dissipates into nothing. Thinking about the way he lifts my heart makes me want to kiss him again and again. The food vanishes from my plate in between furtive glances at his sexy green eyes and his busy mouth. I'm almost sad when the food is gone.
Trisha clears our table after we're finished. "You two are so cute together," she tells us. "I love how much you adore each other, anyone can see it in your faces when you look at each other." Apparently my furtive glances hadn't been so secretive to everyone.
I blush slightly—because that's what I do.
"Seriously," she continues, "Four Guys just ordered a round of shots for themselves and toasted to "finding the one" after they looked at you two. I think you're fuckin contagious."
Insert snort-laugh here. Dammit!
"She's reminding me of John right now," Justin says as she walks away with our plates. "Has he ever given you his insight on the city having emotions?"
I laugh, being careful not to snort again. "Oh my God—yes. And it makes so much sense the way he tells it."
"Right?" Justin agrees loudly.
The last of the wine is in our glasses now, the empty bottle is feeling sad and lonely now that it's been discarded to the edge of the table. I swirl my glass around, watching the wine spin for no particular reason other than something to do during a short quiet moment. Justin checks his phone and it's as contagious as watching someone yawn, making me grab my phone out as well. I tap in my key and watch as the screen comes up. Instantly, I see a strange icon up in the top left corner and press my screen off as fast as I can, hoping Justin doesn't see it.
I have that notification set to silent for just these moments, when it was best no one, especially Justin, hears a thing. There's only one reason that icon is there right now. I throw my phone back in my bag as if there's nothing interesting, and I wait for enough time to pass that my actions won't be obvious when I bring my phone to the bathroom with me.
There are ways around obstacles, you just have to look for them. Justin can track me, listen to my calls, read my texts, probably even get into my account history for my cell, but—at least for now—he's not expecting me to have a private email app.
It nags at me insistently now. I've found him, and it didn't take nearly as long as I'd thought it would. No one else in the world has that address, it must be him. His voice wafts out of my bag, beckoning me, begging that I respond.
I swirl my wine one more time and take a sip as I smile at Justin. I'm overcome with guilt when he smiles back, that beautiful smile never suspecting that I am deceiving him.
It's for the best. Remember that!
I know it's true, but that doesn't stop it from eating at me. I should excuse myself to the bathroom now and get this over with before my emotions expose me.
It's too soon! He's not stupid!
Fuck!
Just a little longer, that's all I have in me.
"So, how are you feeling about tomorrow and the holiday?" I ask as a distraction for both of us.
That friggin' smile again!
"It's the most I've looked forward to Christmas since I was a kid. I practically grew to hate this time of the year, but I don't have words for how happy I am right now. Seriously, it's the first time in forever that I've been excited to give a gift to someone just to see their reaction."
"I hope you haven't gone overboard," I tell him. "I really don't need anything but you," which means I'm hoping to wake up and find him naked under the tree with a bow on his cock.
"We'll see," is all he offers me.
Trisha comes over and grabs our empty bottle. "Ready for a second?"
Justin glances at me to gauge my interest.
I nod my head eagerly. "I don't work tomorrow, no reason not to. I just have to run to the ladies room for a minute." There's a naughty smile on my face. "Just try not to follow me in, Pervert!"
Trisha laughs right in his face.
"Hey, that was just one time, and I recall that you didn't mind it at all," he teases.
Of course I end up as the one a little embarrassed with nobody to blame but myself. And that's exactly what I wanted. Justin is thoroughly distracted as I walk away to the bathroom.
I'm getting too good at this.
I go all the way into a stall and wait for a bit, making sure he doesn't follow me in anyway. My phone is begging for me until I can't take it anymore. With my bag balanced on my lap, I whip my phone out.
The email is there, and it is from him as I'd hoped. My nerves are humming, excited, scared.
"Yes, I can meet you. When and where?" it reads.
My heart is racing as I type a quick message back, just something to hold him off until it was safe. "Great. I'll be in touch right after the holiday."
CHAPTER IV
No snow—that sucks! I knew it was a long shot, the weather had been predicted to be sunny and clear, but I don't give up easy. Like every morning we are together, I woke up to Justin's sexy face smiling at me—that didn't suck. It took a few moments to fully drop my sleep coma, and when I remembered it was Christmas Eve, I leapt out of bed in my comfy PJ's and ran to the back doors and the rooftop patio, hoping to find the hot tub cover buried under white, to see the railing and everything beyond it with a crisp, glistening coating.
Justin comes up behind me, seeing my shoulders slump in disappointment. He wraps around me like a blanket, pressing himself into my back, his thick arms over mine, and he kisses my neck. "Sorry, Warrior," he says to comfort me. "I have something that might help."
He lets go of me and moves to our tree in the room behind us, the first one he's had up since he was a kid. We bought it together in November with a childlike excitement that returned when we set it up and began decorating it. I had ran right past it without notice moments ago, but now I see there are more gifts under it than there were last night when we had gone to bed.
"When did you do this?" I said, my breath short with surprise.
He would only smile. "Looks like Santa came," he teases as he grabs a particular box off the floor. It's wrapped in a beautiful, red and green paper with green lace wrapped around the whole thing.
Inside, I'm as thrilled as a child even while my mouth protests that it's not Christmas Day yet, and that maybe we should wait. Sometimes I just wish I'd shut up.
"It's Christmas Eve, it's part of the holiday. Don't argue with me," he demands with a smile.
He motions me to the couch and hands me the gift after I sit. There's no point in hiding my joy any longer. I tear viciously at the ribbon and paper, shedding long strips off a plane brown box that offers no clues about what might be inside. The tape peels off the flaps and I see newspaper protecting the contents. My hands search through the packing and I find a round globe, pulling it out carefully.
"I got you snow for Christmas," he says as I stare wide-eyed at the most gorgeous snow globe I think I've ever seen.
As I take in the sight of it, I finally see that it's us inside, standing on top of our penthou
se. "My God, Justin, it's absolutely beautiful." I shake it, and the snow I'd wanted swirls around us in a miniature blizzard.
A few hours after Justin gave me snow for Christmas, we are keeping one of his most important traditions. We're at lunch with Lena at the Rock Center Cafe, right up against one of the huge windows watching people skate on the rink. It's beautiful, and the food has been excellent, but I'm more touched to be a part of something the two of them have been doing for years. The sentiment is overwhelming.
This is the one holiday tradition Justin allowed himself all this time, and they had developed a few rules over the years. The most important—no current shop talk. Funny embellishments from the past, however, are not only fair game, but enthusiastically encouraged. My cheeks are permanently cramped, and there are stitch-like needles in my sides from laughing at their stories.
What I like best is that I don't feel at all like a third wheel. I very much look forward to the day when this lunch is a foursome, when Lena has someone she loves at her side, but for now we are having a wonderful time.
"What are your plans for later?" Lena asks Justin. "You better be taking care of our girl." She winks at me.
"Of course I am, but I'm not telling either of you any of it," he answers, sitting up and fixing the sleeves of his favorite suit, a Kiton K-5 that really does fit him like a glove. He looks so fucking hot in it I can't take it. No matter how hard I try not to, my eyes keep finding their way back to his arms and shoulders, the way the cut makes his back look so broad and solid.
"Not even a hint?" Lena presses.
He shrugs his shoulders and we can see his lips curl into something sarcastic. "It will involve dinner, a private chef, and an incredible view. That's all I'm willing to give up."
