A Debt Owed-A Promise Made

by Destiny Blaine

  “I could come,” she said, jerking her arm with a faster rotation of her clit, the manual stimulation already taking its toll.

  Sliding away from her all at once, the man within came alive. “You’ll come when I come with you and not one second sooner.”

  * * * *

  Not even a minute later, her hand glided up and down Billy’s cock, taking in his enormous size. If she’d thought about positioning beforehand, she might have wondered why Dante had decided to take the back position but now she understood. Billy would’ve ripped her virgin ass apart if he’d taken her from behind.

  The idea of taking cock up the ass for the first time during a threesome was, on many levels, frightening. She’d never been into anal sex. She’d never had the desire to try it, but now, she couldn’t wait to feel Dante claiming her ass while Billy stroked her pussy.

  “You ready, baby?” Billy asked, guiding her as she sheathed him.

  Squirting lube into her palms, she rubbed her hands together then touched him again, massaging the oil into the rubber, making him slippery and wet. He lightly fingered her and she moaned, caressing his shaft and imagining all the magical moments ahead.

  “Are those lower wet lips ready to give me a more intimate kiss?” he asked, just as corny as ever. Without a moment to waste, he lowered himself to her cunt, striking out at her intimate core with numerous indulgent beats as his cock slid inside her pussy and the first claiming was complete. “Ah damn, I won’t last like this.”

  “I never thought you would,” she teased, tilting his chin toward hers.

  Drawing him into a passionate kiss, Brooklyn called the shots then, spreading her hips and welcoming her lover from behind, shivering when she felt the tip of Dante’s cock at her hole. She wanted to postpone the first impalement yet wished he’d hurry up and press forward. The initial thrust was like a brutal claiming and the first stretch of ownership felt as if she would be torn in two.

  “Oh God, Dante. Don’t.” She gasped, struggling for a breath as Billy thrust inside her pussy and Dante pulled out.

  “You’re okay, doll. Just enjoy yourself. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “Always nice to know the man has had plenty of experience coming in the rear entrance.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he said in a guttural voice.

  Before she knew what happened, Dante clasped his hand around the back of her neck, forcing her straight forward. Billy lost his balance, but went with it, dragging her body over his.

  Landing on Billy’s chest, she spread her legs and immediately enveloped him. His cock thrummed through her channel with eagerness and force. He fucked her with timed strokes, pushing his hips away from the bed as he met her body with his.

  Dante knelt behind them, dragging his penis over her globes and reassuring her with caresses across her hips. “Now?”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “Now or never.”

  “Now has a better ring to it,” Dante said.

  With no other words exchanged between them. Carnal noises resounded. The slapping of bodies set an erotic mood as the guttural and throaty cries filled the room. Some of them belonged to her. Others were distinctly Dante’s. Billy had a moan classified as his and his alone.

  The tingle of excitement brushed across her nipples as Billy kissed her breasts, nuzzling them as he drew her against him and pounded inside her. Dante slapped her bottom, spanking her until she not only cried out in pain, but groveled for more pleasure.

  Slapping her again, he rode her ass, impaling her with a hard cock. His rod jerked up and down as he paddled her behind until her bottom burned from the spanking as much as the unwavering penetration.

  Billy’s face twisted into one of pure male heat. He stopped abruptly, holding her against him as if he were fighting against some force of nature. Then, he cursed under his breath, grabbed her upper arms and pumped her up and down, screaming out with pleasure as his condom filled with his release. The evidence of his spill pulsed in the weighted hood of his worn protection.

  Dante grabbed hold of her hips. “Ah baby. My pretty baby.” Then, as her climax took hold, Dante poured his release into her body, fucking her ass like he had no desire to ever fuck her any other way, collapsing upon her back before she screamed out for mercy. And mercy arrived in the form of a hot splash of his release. Her cunt vibrated with her orgasm leaving her incredibly satisfied.

  At the same time, she understood a deeper connection had formed. She’d developed an insatiable sexual appetite. One she couldn’t quickly disregard. She wanted more from Billy. She needed more from Dante. Her unquenchable desire for another threesome had quickly become a basic need.

  Chapter Eight

  “She’s in bed with both of them. We have to move tonight,” Braxton said, slamming the car door and taking his seat next to the lead investigator from another IOCAG division.

  “What do you mean she’s in bed with both of them?”

  Braxton’s head spun with images of what he’d just witnessed. Using binoculars, he’d perched in a tree and watched. The sexiest event he’d ever seen unfolded, a sex fest he would have given his right nut just to be part of, just to know how it felt to lay claim to Brooklyn’s sexy body again while bringing her so much pleasure.

  The act had driven him damn near insane.

  He stared through the glass at the pouring rain. He couldn’t take much more of this. His suspicions had been right. Brooklyn chose the rookie because he was a dirty agent. He was inside Dante’s camp and he’d apparently pulled some strings somewhere to end up in the very department responsible for bringing down Dante Mancini.

  “I let you go once. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “What the hell are you babbling about?” the other agent asked, glowering.

  Gaining some composure, Braxton stuffed the keys in the ignition. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

  “I beg to differ. Is your new guy banging the broad or what?”

  “You might say that.”

  “So she’s a slut and a half. We all know that. And she’s got a thing for mob guys. What is this kid…Italian?”

  “Yep,” Braxton replied, noncommittal. He’d already said too much. He needed to bite his tongue. He couldn’t trust anyone except the guys from his division, and only a few of them. If only Harry hadn’t been so taken with Brooklyn from the very beginning, he’d be there with him now.

  Braxton had needed Harry on this case, but he couldn’t fully trust him. Instead, he’d positioned him as Brooklyn’s handler, made him Brooklyn’s go-to guy when she needed to relay information.

  The only information she had to share at the moment was an intimate conversation between her and the two men she was banging. “How in the bloody hell did she end up fucking Dante and Billy at the same time?”

  “What?” the other agent screeched, grabbing his poncho from the backseat and exiting the car. “If that’s right, I gotta see this for myself!”

  “Fuck!” Braxton screamed, slamming his fist into the steering wheel. So much for keeping things to himself! He had been so angry, he’d been unable to keep his mouth shut.

  Perhaps it was understandable considering what he’d just witnessed. He was in shock. That’s what was wrong with him. He was in utter disbelief.

  The investigation was going to hell. Once again, the Mancini clan would come out on top. Brooklyn would lead them there. Once again, she was in bed with the enemy.

  * * * *

  “We’ve got a problem,” Harry said the second Brooklyn answered the phone.

  Pressing the speakerphone option, Brooklyn placed the small pocket device on the bathroom counter and dried her hair, briskly rubbing wet strands with a new Turkish towel.

  “I hope not, Harry. The last thing I need tonight is another problem,” she said, realizing the inside joke was one her men wouldn’t hear. They were passed out on the bed.

  “Well we’ve got one. Hope you’re dressed by now and finished with your f
riendly business. You got trouble headed your way in about an hour, maybe two if you’re lucky.”

  “What are you saying, Harry?”

  “Braxton is moving tonight. Whatever you, Dante, and Billy were up to tonight provoked him. He’s making his first play now and doesn’t see any reason for you to stop him. Apparently, he believes you’ll never see him coming.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Harry said, playfulness in his voice. “Oh and Brooklyn?”

  “Yeah, Harry?” She stared into the bathroom mirror. Taking a Q-tip from a nearby glass container, she moistened the end and ran it under her eyes, removing black mascara. “You’d better draw the shades. If I’m translating the data I’m receiving in real time, you got another peeping Tom looking in your window as we speak.”

  Brooklyn stopped primping, snapped the phone closed, and rushed into the bedroom. “Hurry! Get up!” she screamed, dragging the curtains across the rod as she walked across the room.

  “What? Why?” Billy yawned, stretched, and fell against the bed again.

  “That was Harry on the phone,” she said, sitting next to Dante and shaking him. Trying to wake Dante was like trying to shake the dead. “Honey, get up.”

  “What’d he say?” Billy asked.

  “We’ve had company tonight.”

  Billy rose to his elbow and turned on his side. “Who was here? How’d they get beyond the front gates?”

  “Dante!” she screamed in his face and he still didn’t budge. “Harry called. Braxton has been watching us tonight. They’re making their move now and I have no idea how they breached Dante’s security.” Her mind quickly returned to the day before. “On second thought, Dante’s guards have been slack lately.”

  “Is he all right?” Billy asked, leaning over Dante.

  “Yes,” she said, rushing into the bathroom. Filling a cup with water, she returned to the bed, dipped her fingers in the water and splashed him. “Dante, it’s time to get up.”

  “Oh for the love of God,” Billy said, grabbing the cup from her hand. “If you want a man to wake up after he’s fucked half the night away, there’s only one way to do it.” Billy dumped the water in his face.

  “What the hell!” Dante flung the covers away from his body and glared at his perpetrator. “Was that absolutely necessary?” After the initial shock, Dante calmly wiped his eyes.

  Billy rose from the bed, snatched his clothes from the floor, and headed to the bathroom. “We have to go.”

  “Do you know what time it is?” Dante asked, fiddling with his cell. “It’s two in the morning. Where the hell do you want to go at this hour?”

  “Anywhere but hell—thank you very much—which is where we’re headed if you don’t listen to your woman. We’ve had company. Apparently the show we gave Braxton was enough to ruffle the chief’s feathers, too.”

  “Has he been drinking?” Dante asked, the color washing out of his face. “We’re not ready. This can’t be right.”

  “I spoke to Harry. We’ve screwed up, Dante, and we underestimated Braxton,” Brooklyn said, realizing what this sudden change meant. “You’ll have to go without me.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I don’t like it, Harry,” Dante said, taking Ariela’s small body in his arms as soon as they met at a private airstrip.

  He’d been so disoriented when he’d awoke, he’d let Brooklyn call the shots. She’d told him where to meet Harry, arranged for a taxi to take her downtown to meet with the boys from IOCAG, and assured him she’d find him. They’d shared a quick and tearful goodbye. Now here he was leaving the country while his woman remained behind cleaning up the mess.

  This wasn’t supposed to go down like this.

  Brooklyn’s mother marched by him, shooting Billy a sideways glance in passing. “I told Brooklyn. I told her when I saw him on our doorstep the very first time. He’s nothin’ but pure trouble. That’s what I said to her. Turns out I was right, hmm? He caused this.” She stormed back and stood in front of Dante. “Didn’t you? You’re on this plane bound for nowhere and my little girl is stuck in an interrogation room trying to prove her innocence. We’re leaving her behind to fight a war she didn’t start. You and your people did this. Your brother—God rest his murderous soul—you and him. You people did this to my baby. You took away her life and what does she have now?”

  Dante took Mrs. Costello’s right arm and steered her toward the plane while holding fast to Ariela. “Mom, could you please—”

  “Don’t you Mom, me.” Mrs. Costello’s eyes were like smoking red coals aflame with rage. “I am not your mother. I am not in any shape, form, or fashion, your family. Do you hear me Dante Mancini? Do you?”

  Dante sighed. She’d spout off for another minute or two, but then she’d come around and apologize. Right now, out of respect for Brooklyn, he’d ignore her. Thirty thousand feet in the air and an hour or so later, he couldn’t make any promises.

  Ariela squirmed in his arms. “Uncle Dante?”

  “Shh,” he whispered, holding her closer. “It’s all right, sweetheart. Rest. We’ll be flying soon and Uncle Dante will tell you a bedtime story.”

  “Where’s my momma?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering as she tried to stay awake long enough to hear his reply.

  “She’ll be along soon.”

  The little girl nodded her head and fell limp in his arms again. Dante motioned for Billy. “Help Mrs. Costello on the plane and keep an eye on her. Please. Do it now. We need to be in the air in less than fifteen.”

  Billy looked troubled. “You really don’t think she can make it?”

  Dante shook his head. “There’s no way. If Braxton suspects we’re leaving the country, he’ll have her detained until he’s sure we’ve left without her.”

  “Harry?” Billy looked to the older man for some sort of reassurance. That was the trouble with the Mancini family, they never listened to him.

  What part of the equation didn’t they understand? Dante was trained in intelligence. He wasn’t a mob guy turned snitch. Educated at Stanford, he’d worked for the CIA, worked as a secret agent for Interpol, and had more training in weapons than Brooklyn had ever held in her hand. And she was commended the world over for her special skills.

  No, he wasn’t another thug pushing drugs like much of the Mancini clan. He didn’t reside over territories, blackmailing storeowners and laundering money through front businesses.

  He was straight. And at the moment? He was pissed.

  “If you leave her behind, I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear me, Dante?”

  “Mrs. Costello, please board the plane.”

  Satisfied, apparently, when he hadn’t referred to her as Mom, she reluctantly climbed the metal stairwell and pursued the opening of the aircraft. Handing off Ariela to Harry, Dante made a quick decision. “I hate to admit it but this is one time when my future mother-in-law is right.”

  “What are you doing?” Harry asked.

  “I’m going back for Brooklyn.”

  “You can’t do that,” Billy protested. “They’ll never let you leave the States alive.”

  “And why would I want to leave at all if I don’t have Brooklyn by my side?”

  Mrs. Costello stopped before ducking her head and entering the plane. They locked in a knowing gaze. Holding her head high, she straightened her back, standing as tall as her five-foot-four frame would allow. Then, she ducked out of sight, apparently satisfied with a fight won, a battle she shouldn’t have had to pick in the first place.

  “I have a family, Dante,” Harry told him.

  “You’ll be well compensated,” he assured him.

  “Why can’t you talk to your bosses? Why can’t they make this all go away? What kind of government leaves one of their own in their time of need?”

  Dante took a moment to debate the reply he supplied. Finally, he said, “One that cut me loose a long time ago. I don’t exist in their world anymore, Harry.”

&nbs
p; “What are you saying?”

  Billy dragged his palms down his face and groaned. “This just keeps getting better and better.” He stalked the plane. Then, he stopped. “Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to tell me? Anything I need to know before I give up my life in order to pursue the one you’ve decided is more appealing than my own?”

  “Yeah,” Dante replied. “I think Brooklyn has a thing for you, too. It’s that Mancini in you. She can’t get enough of us.”

  “I’m not laughing, Dante.”

  “Neither am I,” he said, returning his focus to Harry. “Please. For Brooklyn.”

  Harry reached in his pocket. He pulled out a business card and pressed the square paper in his hand. “You call my wife and tell her I’ll be home soon. Call from one of the payphones at Penn Station. We trace the calls and if she sees the trace from there she’ll believe you. Tell her I love her and it’s for Brooklyn. She’ll rest a little easier then.”

  Dante didn’t know how. Brooklyn had lured poor Harry into one mess after the next since they’d met twenty years prior. He saw no reason to burden Harry’s wife with any of this.

  “Promise me, Dante. You give me your word and I’ll give you mine. Give my family rest assurance and I’ll take care of yours until we meet again.”

  “Well since you put it like that, I’ll drive by your place and deliver the message myself.” Dante kissed Ariela atop her head. “Tell her a bedtime story if she wakes up during takeoff. She doesn’t like to fly.”

  Harry nodded then quickly boarded the plane. Ten minutes later, they were in the air. Dante watched until the lean aircraft became a small dot of flickering red lights and disappeared out of sight. Then, he hurried to his car where Mrs. Walker was waiting. “We have one stop to make before we go to Brooklyn’s.”

  “I thought you were going downtown,” Mrs. Walker said, frowning.

  “There’s something I need to take care of first.”