by Emerson Rose
I sit up too quickly in the bed, and when the room spins, I take ahold of his shoulder for support. “Related to you? How? A cousin or something?”
“Lie back down here.” He tugs me back down and spoons me from behind. “I told you, we aren’t sure yet, but it seems she has been following us for quite a while now, from a distance.” There’s more he’s just not telling me.
“You don’t get to decide what I know. I’m a grown woman. I can handle it.”
“Now there is where you are sorely mistaken. I do decide what you get to know and you know enough. We are safe and that is what is important.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you give me more details.”
“Okay.” He wraps his arm around my waist to pull me closer pressing his stiff morning cock against my ass. “How about a shower?” he says into my ear in his raspy sexy voice that hypnotizes me momentarily; he’s so manipulative.
“No, stop changing the subject, tell me more.” He slips his hand under the hem of the t-shirt Serena loaned me to sleep in last night and feathers his fingers along my ribs. He reaches my breast where he teases my nipple before changing course and seductively smoothing his way down my belly to the edge of my panties. I grab his wrist and stop his tempting assault on my sensitive body. “No, I mean it, Marcus. You’re not going to distract me. I want to know what’s going on.” He is distracting me and he is aware of it.
“Mm, are you sure? A shower sounds so…” He thrusts his length against my ass again, “Damn,” he grinds in slow circles that have my sex buzzing.
“Good.” One last bump and I’m almost ready to cave when a knock sounds on the door.
Saved by Serena.
“Yes,” he answers with an edge of irritation.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but there is a man at the door who wants to see you, Marcus. He won’t believe me that you aren’t here. He is very insistent about seeing you.”
“Give me a minute, Serena. I’ll take care of him.”
“Okay.” The squish of her wheelchair against the hardwood floor can be heard as she moves away from the door and back down the hall.
“I am not done with you yet, lady. Stay.” He leaves me in bed and pulls on his jeans and a t-shirt.
I’m supposed to stay here but he can’t tell my body not to puke and that’s what it’s going to do, like now! I hop from the bed and zip into the bathroom, which is thankfully right next to the guest bedroom. A few minutes later, I hear Marcus on the other side of the door.
“Imani?” he knocks softly while I pant over Serena’s toilet trying to catch my breath. God, I hate vomiting.
“Yeah, I’m OK.” He opens the door and immediately takes the mass of hair I’m attempting to hold away from my face and gathers it back, braiding it deftly.
“You’d make a great hairstylist.” I mutter and stand to look at myself in the mirror. Good God, I look terrible, “Agh, yuck.” I shake my head in disgust and quickly look away.
“Stop it, you are beautiful.”
“And you’re nuts. Who was at the door?”
“One of the security guards watching the house.”
“Really? What did he want, is everything OK, can we go home?” Shit, being pregnant has turned me into my mother, neurotic and firing questions like bullets. I’m gonna have to watch that!
He opens the medicine cabinet over the sink and removes a tube of toothpaste. “Hold out your finger.” I do as I’m told and he squeezes out a dollop for me to use as mouthwash.
“Thanks.”
“You are welcome. He was here to give me an update and follow us home.”
“If it’s safe to go home, why do we need somebody following us there?”
“Because it will be safe when we get home; until then, I am not taking any chances.” Frowning I bite my lip.
“I don’t like the sounds of that. Please, Marcus, just tell me what’s going on? Who’s doing this to us?”
“I don’t know for sure, honey. Come on, we need to go.” I’ve been dismissed again and I guess I’m not getting anywhere with him for now. Frankly, I’m dying to go home so I accept his hand without further question and allow him to lead me back to the living room.
Serena is sitting watching the news and drinking a cup of coffee; oh, how I miss coffee. “Morning. Would you like some breakfast?” She’s been crying; her puffy red eyes speak volumes.
“We need to be going home.” Is this man ever going to learn to be polite?
“Thank you, Serena, we would love to have breakfast, but Marcus has an escort waiting outside so we should probably get going.”
“You don’t have to cover for him, honey. I know how he is; no such thing as please or thank you in this boy’s vocabulary,” she chuckles, and I smile at her familiarity with his most unattractive trait.
“Thank you, Serena,” he says pointedly and she mock gasps.
“You’ve changed him, Imani. I never thought I’d see the day when Marcus Dante Castillo said thank you.”
“Yeah, well, I try.” I rub my hand up his bicep and pat him lovingly.
“Scoot, and don’t wait until somebody’s trying to hurt you before you visit again.”
“Of course not, your invitation to the wedding is in the mail.”
“Really,” I ask surprised that I’ve not even seen the invitations.
“Wedding planner, baby,” he says as he bestows me with the smirk and wink that ignites a fire within me from the waist down and I’m wishing I had taken him up on that shower earlier. Shaking his head, I know he’s reading my mind as he tugs my hand leading me to the door.
“I will be leaving two men to be sure you are OK for a few days. Try not to shoot their heads off if you see them on the property.” He calls over his shoulder on our way out.
“I’ll try but I’m not making any guarantees.”
“Goodbye, Serena,” he says.
“Goodbye, you two.” I look over my shoulder and give her a little wave.
On the way home I realize we aren’t only being lead but followed as well which raises my suspicion about our safety again.
“Does Serena really own a gun?”
“Yes, she does, she is a very good shot, too.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why does she have a gun, and why is she a good shot?”
“She was employed by me for a long time, Imani. Everyone who was in my circle needed to know how to protect themselves.”
“How did she end up on a wheelchair?”
He pauses for a beat before answering, “She was beaten very badly by a client, he broke her back.” Another piece of the past I don’t want to hear about. I should have kept my big mouth shut. Fucking hell, he broke her back? I feel his eyes on me alternating between the road and my profile, probing, waiting for a reaction.
“I’m sorry I asked,” and I really am; my damn curiosity is always leading me down roads I don’t want to be on.
“It was a rough life. I protected my people but there are always risks.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself. It was a different life, a different world.” I turn up the volume on the radio a little in an attempt to end this conversation and thankfully he follows my lead.
The silence leaves me thinking, though. I begin to wonder… if Marcus Castillo was trying to protect his people and Serena was crippled, Maria was killed and a woman made it past his security team and into my room with a hunting knife… exactly how safe are we?
One Hundred Six
“Call your family, invite them to dinner tomorrow night at Dominus. I have a private room reserved for seven o'clock.” We’ve only been home for a few hours and I’m exhausted after doing absolutely nothing. We had breakfast followed by me watching Marcus swim approximately a million laps while I read one of the hundreds of romance novels on my iPad. He wanted me to swim with him but I just didn’t feel up to it today.
I miss Maria. It’s just not the same without her puttering
around the house, cooking and bustling in the kitchen. Marcus worked in his office for a few hours and now he’s joined me on the couch in the living room where I’ve curled up in front of the fireplace, searching online for bridesmaid dresses.
“Okay, what about the service for Maria. When is that going to be?”
“The flight leaves Saturday at noon. We will just have a few people from the restaurant who knew her, Elijah and Mr. Black meet in the hangar before it takes off.”
“That doesn’t seem very respectful or ceremonial. Wasn’t she Catholic?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t Catholics have a Mass and a funeral in a church?”
“Well, yes.”
“Then Maria needs one, too. Can you delay the flight?” He slips his hands under the throw that I have over my legs and begins rubbing my feet; distraction at its best.
“It would be less stressful for everyone if we just send…”
“No way… uh-uh, and she deserves more than that, she deserves better. I can make the arrangements. What church did she attend?”
“St. James Cathedral, but I’ll make the arrangements; you stick to the wedding plans.”
“Why, because they are happy plans instead of mournful ones?”
“Precisely.” I sigh and roll my eyes. I’m not going to lift a finger for the next seven and a half months and that is going to make me nuts!
“I mean it, Imani, no stress. The second I sense you getting worked up, I will be hiring someone to take over.”
“I want to do this, for Maria. It won’t mean as much if someone else does it.” He’s quiet, focusing on my foot in his hands as he rubs heavenly circles into my arches. I give him some space to work this out in his head. He doesn’t like to be told no, but this is important and I can see him struggling to give in.
“What all are you thinking of doing?” Ahh, flexibility, I knew he could compromise.
“Does she have a nice casket?”
“Yes, of course, the best money could buy,” he says, clearly insulted that I even asked.
“Of course, sorry. I need to contact the priest then, pick out some music and a couple readings from the Bible, nothing fancy, just appropriate for her and her life. Invite whoever you think would come, order flowers, and maybe have a few memorial cards printed up. I can do it all today, no stress, I swear.” I’m lying of course; it will take some doing to get all of that done today, but seriously it’s not natural to be void of all stress, it’s what motivates people to accomplish things. His lips are pressed in a straight line as he considers the situation.
“Alright, if it makes you happy and it can be done easily, then I will allow it but if…”
“I know, I know, no stress. Geez, being pregnant is boring,” I pout and, my God, when the corner of his mouth tips up ever so slightly and his eyes darken with lust, my core instantly liquefies. Just one look and that’s it. He reaches for my iPad without breaking eye contact and I hand it over automatically in a trance. He sets it on the coffee table, still not taking his eyes off of me. He wraps his hands around my ankles to pull me down the couch until I’m flat on my back.
“Ahh,” I shout in surprise and giggle when his expression changes from erotic to playful and back again all in a matter of seconds.
“So, you’re bored, are you?” He digs his fingers into the flesh of my hips. I bite my lip and smile nodding yes, my hands clasped together over my chest as my body ramps up with anticipation. I’m dying to find out how un-boring things can get. “I am taking that as a challenge, Mrs. Castillo. Let me know in an hour or so how bored you are.” An hour, holy shit, I am in for it! He has turned to face me, one knee bent up closest against the back of the couch and I’ve been pulled into his lap, legs wrapped around his waist. When he leans to brush the pad of his thumb across my lower lip, his stiff cock presses against my pulsing sweet spot. My body reacts like the north end of a magnet held close to the south end, arching against him, yearning, desperately craving more of him. His thumb slips between my lips while his body reacts to mine, identically thrusting forward with its own need. He slides his thumb out of my mouth and drags it along my cheek until his long fingers slink around the back of my neck, guiding my body up to sit chest to chest.
The first touch of his soft full lips against mine is tender, but elicits a familiar electric shock that shoots straight to the hot wet center of my body. I need him inside of me and yet I know it’s out of the question. I’m seriously going to spontaneously combust before I have these babies. He feels my need and his kiss reflects it when he slips his tongue between my lips and every nerve ending in my body zings to life. My hands pull at his jeans and I feel a growl from deep in his chest vibrate through me.
“Arms up.” His command is obeyed and my sweater is stripped over my head and then his own. Our mouths return to each other, crashing frantically, our tongues darting in and out. Unable to get close enough our bodies tremble with a need that can’t be satisfied completely, a race with no end. My bra has been unhooked and I work my arms out of it, tossing it aside. I press my sensitive breasts against the soft patch of hair on his chiseled chest. The heat of our bodies combine, detonating the bomb that’s fuse was lit with a single smirk.
“I fucking can’t get enough of you, never enough,” he pants into my neck, pulling my hair over my other shoulder for better access. I tilt my head to the side offering him more, everything, anything he wants, it’s his without question, without hesitation, no holds barred. I am all his and only his. A moan escapes my lips and the sound is intoxicating, fueling the fire between us while he nips and sucks his way down my neck to my breast. He teases my pebbled nipple with the tip of his tongue, lingering, kissing a trail back and forth between them causing a slow burning torture.
Suddenly he stops and pushes me to arm's length. I’ve had my eyes closed, actually more like rolled back into my skull in ecstasy but now I lazily open them to see what has him pausing. I loll my head forward and find him gazing at me, his sharp green eyes nearly black with need as he feasts on my body, taking in every curve, every swell and dip, memorizing every inch of me as if he hasn’t done this before. Slowing our progression to appreciate my body, I smile knowingly, he’s anticipating the changes my body will go through and quite possibly thinking this may be one of the last times he sees me looking the only way he has ever known me to look, petite, curvy, attractive.
He silently shakes his head as if in disbelief. “You get more beautiful every day. This lip is fuller.” He caresses my bottom lip and kisses it softly before dragging his fingers over my throat and across to my shoulder.
“Right here, you used to be sharp and now you’re soft.” He feathers all of his fingers down my arm to my hand where he holds it for a moment, turning it over to place a kiss in my palm. “These hands are like satin and so skilled at meeting my needs.” I blush and look away but he gently takes my chin turning me back to him.
“Don’t look away, baby, you need to openly accept my compliments because I will never lie to you and every word I say to you is gospel truth.”
When he has captured my attention fully, he continues with his observations, laying his hand over my left breast he closes his eyes. “Your heart beats sixty two times a minute when you sleep, one hundred and ten when you come for me, and seventy times an hour at rest.” His hand travels to my flat belly and his lip trembles, his eyes fill with emotion as he takes a shaky breath before continuing. “And here… here you grow, giving me two miracles I never thought would exist. You are simply exquisite, my Imani.”
A choked cry shudders from my lips and gooseflesh covers every inch of my body even through the heat that is blazing between us. I’m speechless. What does a woman say to that? He must have coined the term ‘knowing someone inside and out’ because he knows my heart, my body, and my soul like no other person ever has or could.
“Come here, baby.” Our pace has slowed to sweet and tender, our kisses careful and romantic as he presses his fingertips
against my shoulders, sliding them down my back to reconnect our bodies seductively, sensually, lovingly. My own hands caress his shoulders and back, dipping and rising between his well-defined muscles. I am lowered to my back and Marcus drags the throw slowly from my legs, allowing it to pool on the floor next to the couch. He begins to kiss my tummy while gathering my leggings and panties on either side of my hips. I lift to help him slide them off and he follows his hands with kisses on my apex, thighs, knees, and finally the arch of my foot evoking tiny gasps and whimpers along the way until I am bare and draped over his body, humming with desire.
When he’s had a moment to devour me with his eyes again, he unfolds his leg and stands, and now it’s my turn to do the same to him. His solid cock springs from his jeans when the buttons are undone, and I watch him with adoration as he steps out of them. He allows me a moment to admire his beautiful body that is bathed in the light of the fire behind him.
His gorgeous body will not change a bit while mine stretches and contorts to house two human beings. “I love you.” Three simple, meaningful words are all I can give him, his gift for expressing his feelings for me is not one I have been blessed with and I pray he knows he means just as much to me as I do to him.
I reach for his hand and pull him closer to me but stop him before he can lie down with me. I sit up and find myself intentionally exactly at eye level with his impressive silky erection, this wasn’t in his plan but I’ve been yearning to reciprocate all the pleasure he’s been giving me for the last few days while getting nada in return.
“Oh God, Imani,” he moans as I look up at him through my eyelashes and taste him for the first time in what feels like forever.
“You’re so fucking sexy with your mouth wrapped around my cock.” His hands have found an anchor in my hair but he allows me to keep my own pace, never forcing himself any deeper than I allow, and holding back so much, protecting me from what could easily be a disaster with too much thrust. I sheath my teeth with my lips taking him as far into my mouth as I can before far away warning bells cause me to draw back but it’s more than enough. His moans thrill me, knowing it’s me that takes him to the edge of ecstasy is empowering and so, so satisfying for both of us.
