Every Little Piece of Him

by Debra Kayn

  Through all the emotions resurrecting in him that he'd tried to kill and bury, his desire to have Iliana back with him grew stronger.

  He stayed in the office after the others left. Over the last month, he'd ran Stone Lair automatically, pushing through each day and doing what was necessary to keep an establishment the size of the Lair flowing in cash. He let things fall to Mac, and his manager kept things going.

  The two bands he'd brought in on the weekends kept people happy. But, they were no Iliana, who bewitched the customers and set the mood.

  But, calling her, asking her, wanting her, had nothing to do with business.

  His phone vibrated. Mac sent a text telling him he was coming up. Anders stepped out of the office, closing the door. His manager had picked up on the undercurrents surrounding the visits of the others. Though Mac knew nothing of his past.

  The door opened at the top of the stairs. Anders waved Mac in and walked to the living room.

  "The entertainment schedule has been fixed." Mac looked down at his phone. "Each group I canceled has been compensated double the amount due if they had continued in the original contract."

  "Good," said Anders.

  "The armored truck is due in an hour."

  Anders leaned his hip against the back of the couch. "Make sure you pull off three of our security crew and have them stand guard."

  The daily pickup of cash, mainly from the revenue from the casino, came with extra precautions.

  "Already done." Mac looked up. "I've also talked to Carmon at the gas station. The computer on one of the diesel pumps is not accepting cards. I've called for service but, in the meantime, you might see more trucks backed up."

  "Make sure they don't compromise the parking lot in front of the Lair. The customers need to come and go without any problems."

  "Of course." Mac put down his phone. "That's everything, so far today."

  "Good." He straightened. "Don't forget to send Iliana straight to me when she gets here. I'll be staying upstairs until it's necessary for me to go downstairs."

  "Will do, Mr. Stone." Mac dipped his chin and left via the stairs.

  Several minutes alone and the silence invaded his mood. He thrust his fingers in his hair and exhaled loudly. Since hearing Iliana's voice last night, his decision to bring her back to the Lair became more permanent in his mind.

  The only way she'd stay was if he committed himself to her. He'd wanted to keep that wall of separation between them, but it was impossible.

  He was miserable without her.

  "Fuck, what am I doing?" he whispered to the empty room.

  Mark almost died after getting shot. Quint's employee was murdered, probably mistaken for him. Iliana's motorhome was blown up. Now, they'd all received letters warning them that their days were numbered.

  What would happen next?

  Why couldn't they be left in peace? Hadn't they lost everything already?

  Joney was dead. They'd forever live with the blood on their hands.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He read the screen, and every cell in his body expanded and an urgency to have Iliana near him again pushed him toward the door.

  She'd arrived.

  He couldn't think of what would happen tonight or tomorrow or if she'd even stay with him. For now, he had her back in his life.

  The soft click of the downstairs door accelerated his heart rate. He opened the upstairs to her and waited.

  She stepped through the door downstairs, and he caught sight of her. His chest swelled. She was the reason why he fought against those wanting to destroy him.

  He wanted her, and he'd need to take out everyone who threatened to destroy his future to make damn sure he was around to love her.

  Chapter 18

  A standing ovation.

  The warmth of a bubble bath.

  The sweetness of frosted cinnamon rolls.

  New socks.

  Her family's pride in her.

  All the good and comforting feelings she'd ever experienced was nothing compared to the pleasure, the relief, and the completeness at seeing Anders again.

  She hurried the last three steps up the stairs, dropped her purse, and lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his thundering chest. His arms came around her. His hand cradled her head or held her hostage. She couldn't tell if she was shaking or he was vibrating.

  Having never had such a connection with another soul before in her life, she couldn't help but think that what she felt toward Anders was special, right, and unbreakable. How would she be able to leave him again, knowing what they had together was something she wanted for the rest of her life?

  He raised her face, capturing her lips. The flutters in her stomach flew free.

  "I want you," he mumbled against her lips.

  Grabbing his face, afraid he was going to pull away, she continued kissing him and said, "Yes."

  As if each of them realized at the same time what they needed, she stepped away gasping and kicked her shoes off frantically, pulling off her shirt, her jeans. With nothing else to remove, she went to him again.

  He swept her into the room, laying her down on the bear skin rug. She widened her legs, hooking her feet behind him.

  Anders tore his mouth off her. "Fuck."

  "What's wrong?" She panted, trailing her hands down his sides.

  "Condom," he muttered.

  She groaned, letting him go. He made her lose her mind. In her thrill of being with him again, she would've had sex with no protection.

  Anders reappeared, standing over her. She gazed up at his naked statuesque body.

  Her insides warmed. He was hard, sculpted, and beautifully rugged.

  She trailed her hand up his leg, loving the roughness of the hair covering his calf. Under her fingers, his skin indented. She stilled, fingering the oddity of his leg.

  Anders kneeled down, making her forget her curiosity. She reached for him, letting him settle between her thighs again.

  He lowered his head, taking her nipple into his mouth. Her back arched off the floor, and she caressed his hair. There were thirty-one days and thirty nights that she'd been away from him, and the one thing she'd learned was she never wanted to face another sunrise or sunset without him.

  Arousal hit her as the sadness she'd suffered through waned. Anders lifted his head, his gaze landing on her. She trembled, understanding the look of desperation staring her in the face.

  "Love me," she whispered.

  His gaze heated and he nodded, reaching down between them and placing the head of his cock at her entrance. She lifted her legs.

  Anders slid his cock into her pussy. The full sensation feeding her need to be close to him.

  Instead of pumping into her, he held himself fully seated inside of her. "Live with me. Sing for me."

  Her body shook, and she nodded emphatically, pinned down by him.

  There was nothing pressing her to further her career and everything pressuring her to stay with Anders. She could sing anywhere, but there was only one of him.

  "Yes." She stroked his face. "Yes. Yes."

  Anders answered her by almost pulling out of her and plunging back in. She moaned in pleasure, unable to contain her joy.

  There was no taking it slowly after making the decision to move in permanently with Anders. She frantically touched him, clinging to his undulating body.

  Her heightened pleasure rose fast and swift, sweeping her into the frantic need to celebrate her happiness with Anders.

  He pushed up on his hands, thrusting long and deep. She grabbed his forearms, bracing herself as she arched against him.

  Their harsh breathing filled the room.

  The softness of the bear skin rug caressed her back.

  She moaned, caught up in all the pleasure, and her body convulsed in orgasm. Anders groaned, planting himself deep inside of her before lowering his upper body, and kissing her.

  He rolled with her. She clung to him, press
ing her cheek to his chest. The difference in her after shedding the last month made her giddy.

  She sighed and tilted her head without losing her position against him. "Please, tell me you're serious."

  "I'm serious about you. I want you to live with me. You can sing here..." He kissed her forehead and whispered, "I don't want to spend another minute without you."

  She closed her eyes and squeezed him, emotions tightening her throat. There were many things she'd need to do. None of them mattered at the moment.

  Chapter 19

  After two of the best weeks of his life, Anders leaned back on the blanket spread out on the ground and watched Iliana sing from the top of the mountain. He enjoyed his cigar while she looked out over the canyon, enthralled with the acoustics, he was left to enjoy the simple joy she brought into his life.

  She fit into the Lair, picking up the weekends to sing for the customers. He broke up his working hours with having her close. They made love whenever the urge hit and spent time enjoying each other's company regardless if he was sampling the food she cooked in his private quarters, or she laughed at the way he needed to wear glasses when he poured over the books, making sure Stone Lair succeeded.

  Iliana stopped singing and grinned over her shoulder at him. His chest warmed at the delight she got from the echoes coming back to her ears after bouncing off the rock walls of the mountain.

  The innocence that poured from her took the clouds away from him. Since she came back for him, his troubles had stopped. Mark healed at home. No other threats came.

  He stubbed his cigar out. Old and bitter enough to understand that the lull wouldn't last, he remained on guard for what waited around the corner—or at the bottom of the mountain—ready to destroy his world.

  "I could've saved thousands of dollars on equipment if I brought all your customers up to the top of the mountain to hear me sing instead of in the Lair." She returned to the blanket and sat down beside him, kissing him softly. "I've never been someone who spent much time outdoors. Not like this with the wilderness surrounding me. I can't get enough."

  "Hm..." He sat up and pulled her over until he could cradle her upper body in his arms.

  "Do you come up here a lot?" she asked.

  He gazed around him, spotting the crude cross he and the others had erected in honor of Joney when they'd first arrived in Montana. "As much as I can."

  "Why?" She raised her brows.

  He held her close. She was always asking questions, trying to get to the truth about how he lived his life. He gave her all he could without compromising himself.

  "There's no cell service up here." He shrugged. "Mac can't find me."

  She shook her head and laughed. "Gorgeous and smart. No wonder I can't resist you."

  Often, she'd say the funniest things. Something no other woman had given him.

  He straightened his back and gazed out at the sky. For the last hour, he'd watched the clouds darken. Rain would soon hit them.

  "We should get back down the mountain," he said.

  She wrapped her arms around his upper body. "Do we have to?"

  "The roads get dangerous when it rains."

  "I don't want to go." She let go of him and sat up, looking into the distance. "Fall is here. Did you notice all the Tamarack trees have turned yellow?"

  "It won't be long, and the snow will arrive."

  She whipped her gaze back to him. "Which reminds me, I need to go back to my parents soon and bring all my clothes to the Lair."

  "We can have a truck pick up everything you own." He stood.

  "I don't think I need to do that." She held out her hand and let him pull her to her feet. "Most of my belongings aren't things we could use here. Childhood things and memorabilia over the years from singing. When I moved into the motorhome, I didn't have to go out and buy furniture, of course. So, all I have are items from growing up, which I don't need. Mom can throw them away or shove them into a box and put them in the attic. What I really need is the rest of my clothes and a few other small things."

  They hadn't talked about what she could do with the motorhome. No longer needing to travel around from gig to gig, she could sell the RV and try to recoup the money she'd put into it.

  "My sister has mentioned borrowing the motorhome. She and Tom like to go to the state parks and camp during their free time. Usually, they use a tent, which is pretty rough." She folded the blanket and tucked it under her arm. "I'm thinking about asking her if she wants to buy it from me, and since she's my sister, even making payments to me would be better than letting it sit and depreciate in value."

  Problem solved. The fewer options she had to sway her to leave him, the better he'd feel about her staying.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the Hummer. Tonight, he wanted to treat her to a night at the casino. Last weekend, she'd admitted to having never gambled before, and she was curious about how people became addicted.

  By all her many questions, he could tell she wanted to learn how to play the games. With a casino at his fingertips, letting her have fun and the freedom to blow his money would give her a night she'd never forget.

  Rounding the first switchback on the mountain, a raindrop hit the windshield. He stopped on the old dirt road as more rain came down.

  "What's wrong?" asked Iliana.

  He pressed the brake, put the Hummer in Neutral, and reached down for the floor shifter. "I'm going to put it in four-wheel drive."

  "It's barely started to rain."

  He put the truck back into gear and kept the speed down. "Rain comes off the mountain and runs down the road, creating streams that can cause a washout. If we get a real downpour, it can make it dangerous, fast."

  "Let's hope it doesn't rain more than it is." She reached over and rubbed his thigh.

  He wouldn't let anything happen to her. If the way down the mountain put them at risk, he'd stop and wait the storm out.

  Along the next switchback, he turned the windshield wipers on. The tires on the Hummer continued to grip the many rocks scattered on the road.

  Iliana's hand left him, and she grabbed on to the seat cushion underneath her as the vehicle bumped up and down, tilting her sideways over the terrain. Confident he'd make it down before the water started making crevices in the soil, he concentrated on the road.

  "What's that?" The urgency in Iliana's voice filled the truck.

  He glanced at her, then quickly looked out the windshield, spotting a dark shape across the road. Pumping the brakes to slow them down, he crept up to the object, recognizing what blocked their path.

  "A tree came down." He put the Hummer in Park and engaged the emergency brake.

  "It's too big to move," she said.

  "I've got a chainsaw in the back. I'll cut it up, and we can be on our way." He shut off the engine. "Stay inside."

  "You don't need any help?"

  He shook his head. "I'll have us off the mountain in just a few."

  Opening the door, he braced against the wind coming in on the north side. Getting the chainsaw out of the case, it started right up. Living in the Bitterroot Mountains, he had an arsenal of tools in his rig for moments when a tree fell, a creek flooded, or snow piled up, and he got stuck.

  He used four-wheel drive as often as he drove in two-wheel drive. But, then again, he preferred to escape into the woods and enjoy the solitude than deal with employees and customers on his free time.

  Rain soaked the shoulders of his shirt. The only thing he hadn't remembered to do was bring his coat.

  He walked to the downed tree and cut two limbs so that he could reach the trunk. After making the first cut, his wet shirt stuck to his back.

  Pushing his way through the branches, he lowered the blade three feet down from the first cut. A chunk of bark six inches from the blade flew off the tree. Confused, he lifted the bar. He hadn't even touched the trunk.

  His arm swung out on its own, ripping his hand off the front guide bar of the chainsaw. Pressure
pushed against his bicep, followed by burning. He lifted his elbow and gazed down at his shirt. As the pain intensified, the cloth at his upper arm became red.

  What the fuck?

  He killed the engine on the chainsaw, hearing the echo of a gun blast over the pounding rain.

  Without taking the time to find the shooter, he hustled back to the Hummer, tossed the chainsaw over the driver's seat, and slammed the door, starting the engine.

  "Hold on, Il." He shoved the vehicle into Drive.

  "What's—Oh, my God. You're bleeding." She unhooked her seatbelt.

  "Buckle up," he roared, putting his foot on the accelerator. "Now."

  He couldn't stop. There was someone shooting at him. He needed to get her off the mountain and back to the safety of Stone Lair.

  Iliana barely clicked the belt around her, and the Hummer smashed into the fallen tree. He shifted into Reverse, and the tires spun, pulling off the branches stuck under the frame. Taking another run forward, he gassed the Hummer, making solid contact and pushed the tree six feet.

  There still wasn't enough room to make it around the trunk of the tree. The angle of the pine and the edge of the mountain made it impossible to drive over the blockage.

  "What's happening?" Iliana strained against the seatbelt, bracing her hands on the dash.

  The fear in her voice radiated through him. "We need to get off the mountain."

  "Did you cut your arm with the chain—?"

  The Hummer rammed into the tree, stealing the rest of Iliana's question. He never let up on the accelerator. The tires spun against the weight of the tree, pushing it forward, inch by inch until he had enough room to get part of the Hummer through and he could drive over the portion he cut on the ground.

  He turned the steering wheel, watching the edge of the road. There was a two-hundred-foot drop-off. If he slid over the side of the mountain, they'd never survive.

  His back axle jarred the vehicle as he gained clearance of the tree. He navigated the mountain, putting all his concentration on the road, the pouring rain, and keeping his gaze ahead of him, hoping that nobody waited to ambush them.