Dirty Deeds
Page 20
She’s mad. Still, some professional instinct guides me to try to patch things up so I’m not leaving under the pall of job abandonment. “Ma’am, I had an emergency and I couldn’t call in or check emails for a while. I’m back now and trying to catch up.”
Jeanine stops her rant, greed tingeing her voice. Toss her a sniff about a headline, and she’d let me get away with murder. “Anything story-worthy?”
If only she knew, but she thinks I’m just a strip-club waitress looking for celebrity gossip. She has no idea about the depth of how things go at Petals, who Dominick is, or any of the things I’ve learned over the last few days. And this is a story I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Dominick’s shown me some trust. I’m not stupid enough to betray that.
“No, just a family emergency.”
It’s not really a lie because the people at Petals are my family now, and while it might take me awhile, I plan on regaining their trust, if that’s possible.
Jeanine sighs, annoyance making her drag it out longer than usual. “Unacceptable, Miss Postland. We have standards, the least of which is that you turn in quality work on time. Abandoning your job and your duties cannot stand. You’re fired,” she jeers, obviously enjoying the opportunity to shut me down. “I wish you all the best in your future waitressing endeavors.”
I’m not surprised. I figured this would be coming, even told Shane as much when we discussed it. But now that it’s real and actually happening, I thought I might be upset. But all I feel is relief . . . free. And it’s a bit funny that she thinks getting fired is such a big deal, considering I’m on the run from a hitman trying to kill me. Losing a crappy job is the least of my concerns.
Instead of laughing like I want, I clear my throat, but still, my voice is light, maybe even hinging on giggly when I respond. “I understand, Jeanine. If you could please have the HR department mail me my last check. My apologies. It’s been interesting working for you.”
It’s as close as I can get to telling her that she’s a shrew whom people mimic at the office. Hanging up, I let the laughter overtake me. “I’m fired!” I cheer as I throw my hands up and laugh uproariously. “Bwahahahaha, I’m actually fired!”
I’m still basically a prisoner for my own safety, but I truly feel free. No more lies—with Jeanine, with Dominick, with Allie, and most importantly, with Shane. Knowing I need to make one more call, I dial my mother, but only to tell her I’m fine, not filling her in on recent events.
Luckily, she wasn’t worried about me, saying she figured I was just busy with work and stuff. It’s hard to imagine, but it’s really only been days since this whole debacle started. It feels like so much longer. So much has happened. So much might happen still. And Mom never has really asked about my job. I think she’s still disappointed I didn’t become an accountant or a lawyer or get some nice office job where I could meet a ‘good man’.
Well, guess what, Mom? I’ve met, bedded, and laid claim to not just a good man, but an amazing man. And if I live another month, who knows where Shane and I will be? We’re moving so fast already.
I feel the smile spread wide across my face, the happiness bubbling out unbidden. I turn the phone off and lay down on the couch, eyes on the door as I wait for Shane to get back.
I have to trust that he and Dominick are going to come back. That I’ll be safe again. That I’ll have a chance to figure out what to do from here. That Shane and I will figure out a way to be together.
I don’t nap, but the time just sort of slips by. Still, when I hear the familiar heavy tread of his footsteps coming up the stairs, I’m waiting for him. “Angel, I’m—”
Shane doesn’t have a chance to finish his greeting as I throw myself across the little apartment, laughing and leaping into his arms to smother his face in kisses. With each smooch, relief and happiness course through me. He wraps his arms around me, picking me up higher and using my momentum to spin us in a circle as we kiss.
It feels like I haven’t seen him in forever, even though it’s only been a few hours. I was just so scared.
Pulling back, Shane looks deep into my eyes. “Damn, Angel. That’s a welcome home I could get used to.”
I smile, kissing him again, softly this time. “I missed you today. I was worried.”
Shane sets me down, cupping my face in his hands. “I told you, we’re gonna be okay. Today was a step in the right direction, and Dominick handled Sal like a boss.”
“A boss?” I ask, and Shane laughs.
“Well, more like The Boss. It went well, and I think we prevented the war. Sal’s guys know what he did, how he tried to manipulate and lie and killed his own son. I don’t imagine them charging into Dominick’s territory after his display today. Hell, half of them probably want to work for Dominick now, and the other half pray they never have to see him again.”
I smile, trying to imagine Dominick as a monster who would make grown men shake in their boots, but I just can’t. Dominick is scary, no doubting that, but he’s civilized and has a code of honor. I can’t picture him getting rough and dirty.
“So, one crisis averted? One to go?”
Shane looks at me, then nods. “Yeah, Angel. For now, all we can do is stay here, wait for intel, and be safe. Dom even found a mole who let the hitman in. It was Nick.”
“Nick? Really?” I ask, disappointed. “He seemed like a nice guy.”
“Maybe he was, but it doesn’t matter,” Shane says, kissing my forehead once. “You’re what matters. We can relax for a bit. Chucky and Dom are both looking into the hitman issue, so we should know something soon, but for now, all we can do is wait.”
He lays his cheek against the top of my head, hugging me close. It’s sweet and comforting, but that’s not what I want. I don’t want to be babied and kept like a fragile doll he’s scared to break.
I want to celebrate that things are getting better—freedom from my job, hope that there won’t be a war—to celebrate this moment as the gift it is.
My cheek pressed to his chest, I reach down, letting my hand roam closer and closer to his waistband. “Well, that’s not all we can do . . .”
Shane looks down at me, and I bite my lip, waiting to see what he says, what he’ll do. He’s searching for something in my eyes, some sign that I’m really okay with everything that’s happening.
I can’t wait any longer for him to decide and force the issue by lifting up to my tiptoes and using his shoulders as leverage to press my mouth to his. I lick the seam of his lips, begging him to open for me as my free hand reaches down to cup him through his pants.
It’s all it takes to wipe away the last of his worries, and it’s the last moment I’m in charge. His tongue presses into my mouth, consuming me as he pulls my hair, tilting my face higher toward him.
A moan escapes me, and Shane answers with a growl. Holding me in his strong arms, he carries me across the room into the living room, but our mouths never break contact. Instead, he’s guided by some form of internal radar or something until he reaches the middle of the room. He sets me down, immediately ripping my long T-shirt over my head and slipping my panties to the floor.
I stand there, naked and wanting as he pulls his clothes off with almost unnatural speed. His cock is hard, reaching toward his belly button, and I can see a drop of clear precum on the head. I want it and unconsciously, I lick my lips as my knees start to bend.
Shane notices and smirks. “You want to taste me again, Angel? It’s yours. I’m yours.”
I drop all the way to my knees and look up at Shane from the floor. “Then give it to me.”
I stick my tongue out as Shane grasps his cock, guiding the tip to my outstretched tongue, and the flavor of the salty drop explodes across my tongue, making me whimper for more. I want to worship him, to show him that he’s my everything.
Shane slides a hand into my hair, holding me still, and slips his tip along my tongue, teasing me, teasing himself as he reads my eyes, nodding. I cover his shaft in little butterfly k
It’s all the permission I need to take back a bit of control, and I close my lips around him, letting my tongue dance around his slit before bobbing up and down along his shaft, setting a fierce pace.
I hollow my cheeks, sucking him hard and delighting at the sounds I’m drawing from him. I reach up, my fingers digging into the dimples on his powerful ass muscles as I pull him in all the way. He’s mine, and I’m his . . . his loving, worshipful woman who can take all he has.
All too soon, though, he pulls back, squeezing tight at the base of his shaft as he shakes his head. “Not yet. I want to come inside that sweet little pussy.”
I nod, smiling as Shane offers me a hand, helping me rise from his feet and then immediately turning me so that my back is to his front. The entire skin of my back is pressed against him as I look over my shoulder while he cups my breasts. He guides me toward the couch near the wall. It’s big, and when he pushes me over the high arm of the couch, my toes barely reach the floor while he gets me positioned the way he wants.
“Damn, Angel,” Shane says, his voice raspy and heavy with need. “You look so pretty like this, ass up in the air so I can see your wet little pussy, so ready for my cock. Only one thing could make it better.”
I’m squirming, needy, so when he bends down, I expect a nice lick to my soaked core. But that’s not what Shane does, my mouthy, possessive man.
He swipes a thumb through my folds and bites low on my ass, right at the meaty part above my thighs, and the sharp prick of pain blends with the pleasure as he strokes me. I cry out, arching my back for more, but Shane stands, and I look over my shoulder.
He’s licking his thumb, sucking my juices from his skin and moaning at the flavor. “Always so sweet . . . but I think I’m turning you into a dirty girl, Angel.”
“A naughty angel for my devil with a heart of gold. I am a dirty girl, Shane . . . your dirty girl.”
The words set him off, and with a growl, he slams into me balls-deep and immediately begins pumping in and out, hard and fast. I reach back, wanting to feel him piston into me, my nails scratching along the skin of his hips. I can’t see them, but I know I’m marking him too, little pink lines proclaiming him as mine. I dream that maybe those marks will be permanent, maybe something that we can share.
Shane grabs one of my hands, pulling it to my lower back and locking it in place with a tight grip. His other hand twists tightly into my hair, and I’m at his mercy, pinned down and getting fucked. Even to myself, the word sounds filthy, and that turns me on even more. I mewl, whining as I beg him.
“Yes Shane . . . fuck me . . . please . . .”
He pulls me tighter, his voice a low, growling demand. “What did you say?”
I don’t know if he likes it or hates it, and right now, I don’t care because it’s all I can manage to say. “Fuck me, Shane. Fuck. Me. Hard.”
He leans over me, covering my back with his body and pressing me into the couch arm, one hand still trapped between us. “Mmm, my fucking dirty Angel.” He strokes into me again and again, filling and stretching me as I whimper, begging for more. “Come for me.”
He suckles the flesh along my shoulder into his mouth, marking me once again, and I feel pushed harder than ever. His cock is so deep, and I cry out in pleasure and pain.
The moment stretches, both of us on the precipice forever, riding that edge before I fall off, crashing into my orgasm, and Shane comes too, ropes of his hot cum filling me. It drives me more, my pleasure drawing out like a rope too, going on and on as I scream hoarsely. I’m calling out his name and swearing that I’m his as his deep bellow accompanies my cries in a symphony as we finish together.
Chapter 26
Shane
We spend the rest of the evening in the apartment, relaxing. For several hours, we can hear the music booming below us as the club carries on business as usual. We’d done the same, continuing our rounds of talking and lovemaking, pausing to eat and chat before our passions overtake us again.
Around two in the morning, Maggie mentions going downstairs to see Allie, but after the run-in with the Rivaldis, I’m uneasy. “Angel, I know Dominick seems to think this is all handled, and I’m hopeful he’s right, but sometimes, a cornered animal is the meanest, and I’m nervous Sal is going to be desperate enough to do something crazy.”
“But what about Allie and Dom and . . . well, everyone downstairs?”
I nod, hugging her tightly. “I know. But I can’t protect them all. I can protect you, though, and it’d make me feel a lot better if you had Allie come up here rather than us go downstairs.”
She agrees, and Allie’s actually willing to hang out a bit before she heads home so we can all grab some shut eye. Waking up at noon, Maggie and I eat a simple breakfast of Golden Grahams and tea before sneaking downstairs carefully to check in with Dominick.
I knock on his door, my usual two raps, and from inside, I hear him. “Come in, Shane.”
We enter, and he turns around from his desk, smirking that he knew simply by my knock. “Please, sit.”
He motions to the chairs sitting in front of his desk, and we sink into them. I notice Maggie has her knees pulled to her chest again, her arms wrapped around her legs. It makes me worry, but I know it’ll take her awhile to feel comfortable in Dominick’s presence now. “Thanks. Just wanted to check in.”
Dom nods, stroking his chin. “So you’ve heard.”
I furrow my brow, confused. I came down for a general check-in and to see if there was a way for Maggie and me to safely stretch our legs. “Heard? Heard what?”
Dominick leans back in his chair, relaxing. “Have you been in contact with . . .” He seems to be searching for a word, an uncommon occurrence for a man who uses words like sharp knives. “Your handlers?”
I look to Maggie and then shake my head. “I don’t really have one. An unofficial contact, but making official contact is . . . dramatic.”
Dominick smiles, seemingly laughing inside. “Perhaps you should check in with them. At least your unofficial contact.”
He doesn’t seem inclined to give me privacy for the call, so I reach into my pocket and speed-dial Chucky, putting the phone to my ear.
The line connects with silence, and I talk first, keeping Chucky’s name out of it lest Dominick get curious for more information. It may be a nickname, but I wouldn’t put it past Dom to find out Chucky’s real name and entire history in less than forty-eight hours if he was motivated to do so. “Hey, man. It’s Shane.”
Chucky sounds excited, panting as he greets me. “Damn, dude, you must have balls of fucking steel! Everyone here is talking about how Dominick walked into Sal’s house, in the middle of a fucking wake, told all his shit to the whole damn crew, including the Colombians, and then beat the shit out of a traitor. And you just stood there, sweet as you please, with no reaction.”
Interesting. Guess they didn’t hear about my kicking the shit out of Nick on my way out. Probably a good thing, considering everything else. I never actually met the man the FBI put in the Rivaldi family, but he must not have been present. The FBI wouldn’t ignore my beating the fuck out of Nick like that. The boot to the gut on a downed man was definitely past ‘appropriate use of force.’
“Yeah,” I reply airily, though, trying to play it off. “That’s pretty much what happened.”
“Weren’t you shitting your pants that Dominick was going to kill you?” Chucky asks, still panting a little. “I mean, I know you’re in Dom’s custody, but it would’ve been real fucking easy for him to say he was taking you to Sal’s and then dump your body in the river. Probably even keep the girl for himself.”
I look at Dominick, considering what happened in the car yesterday, and make up my mind. “No, if he wanted me dead, I would be. He’s a man of his word and said he’d help, so I trusted him to follow through.”
Chucky whoops like a teenager at a pop concert, and I have to pull my phone away for a moment to wince. “That’s some top-notch loyalty there, man. Not sure I’d trust anyone that that much, even if they were player one in the game.”
“It’s not a game, man. Any other updates? Word on the hitman?” I ask, getting irritated at Chucky’s casualness considering this is my life. Maggie’s life.
Chucky whistles, obviously surprised. “You haven’t heard about the hitman?”
There’s something to Chucky’s tone, a weirdness I can’t place. I look to Dominick, who’s eyes are crinkling a bit . . . in amusement? “No, I haven’t heard. What is it?”
“Sal Rivaldi woke up this morning to find the hitman dead . . . in his living room . . . sitting up in his fucking throne of a chair . . . and none of the guards saw a thing.” Chucky delivers the details with dramatic pauses for effect, and it works.
“So, he’s dead?” I ask, a little disappointed. The bastard almost killed my woman and put a groove in my left bicep that’s going to leave a wicked scar. I wanted to at least get a little bit of a receipt on that.
Chucky laughs darkly, obviously pleased, although I know if he found a dead body in his living room, someone would need to call an ambulance for his heart attack. “Yeah, you could fucking say that. That’s not even the best part, though.” I wait, knowing Chucky will tell me when he’s ready. Finally, he laughs. “The best part is that on the coffee table were a handful of bullet cases, presumed to be the brass from Carlos’s shooting, and an invoice . . . for the repairs to Petals’s private room!” Chucky is wheezing, laughter taking his breath away, and I can’t help but smile. Dominick is a twisted, manipulative son of a bitch and a damn scary motherfucker.
I like him. Too bad we officially have to be enemies when this is all said and done.
Chucky is winding down, getting himself under control while I study Dom, who’s openly grinning now. “You know, I gotta ask. Everyone knows Dominick either did it or had it done, but you’re the inside guy. You know anything?”
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