by M. S. Parker
Neither of us said anything as I took her up two flights of stairs and then led her a few feet down the hall. My heart was in my throat when I stopped in front of the door and waited for her reaction.
“Bron, what–” She stopped mid-sentence as her gaze flicked from me to the door. Her eyes widened, and she turned to me. “What's going on?”
I gave her a sheepish smile and used my free hand to point at the lettering on the door. Du Murier Security Consulting.
“It's mine,” I said.
For the first time in a long time, I felt a surge of pride that wasn't laced with guilt. I'd been proud of my skills as a con man, but there'd always been a part of me that was ashamed of who I'd become. For the past year, I'd been using those skills for good, but knowing that I was only doing those good deeds as part of my punishment kept me from thoroughly enjoying myself. This, however, was mine, legal and free, and would rise or fall with me. The responsibility was terrifying and liberating at the same time.
Which was sort of how Karis made me feel, now that I thought about it.
“What do you mean, it's yours?” she asked.
I opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. I closed the door behind us and took a minute to appreciate what Karis was seeing for the first time.
The waiting room wasn't large, but it had a decent-sized window that let in plenty of natural light, a comfortable but inexpensive couch, and a pair of sturdy chairs. A small table held magazines and a plant of some kind that Benita had given me the other day. I was pretty sure I'd end up killing it, but I appreciated the thought behind it.
I stepped around Karis and walked over to the other door. “This is my office.”
She followed me inside. I'd gotten a nice, solid desk at a bargain, then spent enough on the chairs for them to be comfortable. I'd picked up a second-hand computer and bookcase to finish off the professional look, and hung my own artwork on the walls. None of the forgeries, of course. The Feds had confiscated all of those. These were my own original pieces. I'd never be good enough to create something that would put my name in the history books, but they were nice enough for my office.
Karis turned toward me. “When? How? When?”
I smiled at her struggle to find words and reached out and took her hand, running my thumb over her knuckles as much to calm my own nerves as soothe her. I could feel the tension radiating off of her and mentally cursed myself for causing it.
“We haven't really talked about what I was going to do once my mandatory work with the FBI was done,” I began. “With a criminal record and my complete lack of formal education, finding a decent job seemed impossible.”
Karis nodded. She and I had at least discussed that particular hurdle.
I continued, “About three months ago, Benita asked me about what I thought the future held. After some talking, she suggested that I look into setting up some sort of consulting firm.”
“So you talked to my partner about it, but not me?”
When she said it like that, I felt like a complete heel.
I squeezed her hand. “I wanted this to be a surprise for you. Maybe not the smartest thing, in hindsight, but my intentions were good.”
She raised an eyebrow, and I knew it was on the tip of her tongue to make some smart comment about the road to hell being paved with good intentions. She didn't say it though, but rather gestured for me to continue.
“Benita helped me with the logistics, but everything else was me. I'm going to be a security consultant for art galleries, private owners, anyone who wants to make sure that there aren't any holes that thieves can use. I already have three clients scheduled for next week. I'm also holding a seminar in the spring where I'll teach people tricks to spotting con artists.”
The words rushed out of me, as if the sheer speed of my explanation would convince Karis that I'd done something good here.
“I even had Benita looking through all the by-laws and things at the FBI to make sure the agency could hire me for consulting work without our relationship being an issue.” I brought Karis's hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. “I'm sorry if I worried you. After all we've been through, I just wanted to have a nice surprise for you.”
Her light blue-gray eyes were serious as she studied my face. Then she took a step toward me, and the last of the tension in my chest eased. She reached up with her free hand, cupping my cheek.
“I’m so proud of you.”
Warmth rushed through me at her words. Karis was my family, my lover, my everything, and all I wanted to do was please her. I knew how far I'd fallen, and that I could never completely atone for it, but I wanted to be the sort of man who worked every day to make myself more worthy of her. She said that my past didn't matter, that she loved me for the man I was, but she still made me want to be a better man.
“So you're not mad?” I asked, only half-teasing.
She sighed and shook her head. “Do you have any idea how scared I was when I woke up and saw you were gone? I thought something had happened to you.” She looked away. “I thought you'd left again.”
I turned her face back to mine. “Never,” I said firmly. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
She chuckled and wrapped her arms around my waist. As she rested her head on my shoulder, I held her tight. I'd never get over how perfectly we fit together. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Growing up, we'd always joked about being two halves of the same whole, and no matter what else life had thrown at us, it hadn't been able to change that. No one else even came close, and I knew no one else ever would.
“Next time you decide to surprise me,” she said. “At least leave me a note to let me know you're not off doing something crazy.”
“Deal.” I paused for a moment before adding, “If my next surprise isn't going to make you wait again, do I need to leave a note?”
Karis pulled back so she could look up at me, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Like, if I had another surprise for you now, do I need to write you a note first?” I was surprised she hadn't noticed my heart trying to break through my ribcage.
“Why?” She suddenly looked suspicious.
Keeping my eyes locked with hers, I slowly lowered myself to one knee.
Chapter Five
Karis
Shit.
Blood rushed in my ears as my pulse began to pound. Every cell in my body was humming, crackling with electricity.
And my brain was completely refusing to cooperate by processing the variety of possible reasons that Bron could have for being down on one knee. Because the most obvious one couldn't possibly be right.
Bron's fingers tightened around mine even as his free hand moved to his pocket. A moment later, he pulled out a ring.
Not just any ring either. I knew that ring.
“That night,” his voice cracked, wavered, then steadied, “the thieves didn't get my parents' rings. They've been sitting in evidence ever since. Benita helped me get them out because I didn't want to propose to you with anything other than my mother's engagement ring.”
My heart squeezed. Some women might not have appreciated not being given a shiny new diamond, but I wasn't most women. I knew what that ring meant to him, and it was that thought that calmed me, centered me.
His eyes met mine. “Karis, I've been in love with you since before I knew what love was. You've been my best friend, my lover, and now I want you to be my wife. You're my family, my everything, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
Yes wanted to leap from my mouth, but I let him finish. I knew he wanted to get it all out. He'd planned this whole thing with Benita so it would be perfect, and I wasn't going to take that away from him. This proposal, our marriage, it was for both of us. A partnership, like everything else we'd done.
I put my free hand on his cheek. “Yes, Bron, I would love to marry you.”
He slid the ring onto my finger, his face shining. “Looks like it was made for you.”
/>
It felt like it too.
I bent over and pressed my lips to his, closing my eyes as he nipped at my bottom lip. His hands slid around my hips to squeeze my ass before sliding back around to start working on unbuttoning my pants.
I straightened, but his fingers kept moving. I ran my hands through his hair, then tipped his head back to look up at me.
“What are you doing?”
He gave me that same charming grin he used to give me when we were kids. He'd been wearing it more and more lately, and I loved it every time I saw it.
“I’m christening my new office with my fiancée.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.” He shook his head as he pulled my pants down to my ankles.
I kicked off my sensible heels and stepped out of one leg, then the other. His fingers slid back up my legs, leaving trails of heat across my skin. The warmth flooded the rest of me as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled those off as well.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I almost kicked myself for asking the question. I didn't want him to stop, but the logical part of my mind said we probably should before things got out of hand.
“The door's closed and locked.” He pressed his lips lightly against my thigh. “But the place isn't sound-proofed, so no screaming.”
I might've considered telling him that he was over-estimating his skills, but I knew he wasn't. The weekend he'd gotten out of prison, I'd actually lost my voice because he'd made me scream so much. Benita had teased me mercilessly for months.
“Be good.”
And then his mouth was on me, and all coherent thought fled. His hands held me tight as his tongue circled and teased my clit. When he lifted one leg to open me up to him, I moaned. Burying my fingers in his silky hair, I encouraged him to all the right places. Not that he needed anyone to guide him. The man knew what he was doing.
The first time I came, I barely managed to keep myself from falling over. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and before I could process what he was doing, I was stretched out on the floor, my shirt and bra having vanished at some point, and his mouth was doing wonderful things to my breast. While his teeth and tongue were busy on my throbbing nipple, one hand slid between my legs, fingers teasing, then sliding inside.
I ran my hands over his back and frowned as I realized he was still clothed. I started tugging at the soft cotton fabric but gave up as soon as he curled his fingers and began rubbing against that spot inside me. Then it was only pleasure and electricity and heat as I writhed under his touch.
“Shh.” His hand covered my mouth, muffling my cries as I came again.
Everything went a little hazy, the edges of the world soft, and I floated there, knowing I was safe here with him.
When I came down enough to open my eyes, Bron was stretched out next to me, watching me. As I slid my gaze down his body, I saw that his clothes were gone and that he was slowly stroking his cock. My pussy clenched, the desire nearly painful in its intensity. He was gorgeous, all hard, lean muscle, fine features.
And he was mine.
“Damn,” he growled. “I love it when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I asked as I rolled onto my side until we were face-to-face.
“Like you want me as much as I want you.”
I reached down and covered his hand with mine, stroking the thick, hard shaft with him, feeling it swell under our touch.
“I always want you, Bron,” I said. “From the moment I first understood what these feelings were, it was you. When I saw you again in that alley, I didn't know what you'd been through, the man you'd become, but I still wanted you.”
I inched my body closer and hooked my leg over his waist. My eyes stayed locked on his as I positioned him at my entrance. I shifted my hips, shivering as the head of his cock brushed against me.
“It doesn't matter what I'm doing, where I am, or even if I'm pissed at you, I still want you. Love you. Need you.”
The first inch of him slipped into me, and he sucked in a breath.
“I love you, Bron.”
Another inch. Another sharp intake of air.
“And I plan on wanting you, needing you, and loving you for the rest of my life.”
This time, I was the one who gasped as he thrust forward and buried the rest of his cock deep inside me. It didn't matter how many times we did this, I always loved that first penetration. The way my body stretched to accommodate his. The way we fit together so perfectly.
He said my name, and then we were rocking against each other, bodies pressed together, locked together. I didn't care where we were, only that we were together. I rolled him onto his back, gripping his chest as I rode him. His hands covered my breasts, teasing my already-hard nipples with his thumbs.
“So beautiful,” he said. “You know what I want?”
“What?” I rested for a moment, letting myself enjoy the feel of his firm chest under my hands, the fullness between my legs.
“I'd love to record you.” He ran his hand up my throat, rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip.
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
He gave me a grin that would've made me wet if I hadn't already been soaking. “Come on, babe, don't you think it'd be hot? Recording us like this, then watching it later.”
I laughed, and he groaned as the vibrations went straight through me and onto him.
“Shit like that never comes out as hot as people think it does,” I said.
His eyes darkened. “It would with you.”
Damn, I loved when his voice got all low and growly like that. I leaned back, put my hands on his thighs so that my back arched, pushing my breasts out.
“Tell me.”
His hands ran up and down my legs, between them, fingers teasing and touching as he began to talk.
“I want to record you touching yourself so I can watch you slide those long fingers inside that hot little pussy of yours.”
Okay, I wasn't so sure about the recording thing, but hearing him talk about it was definitely doing it for me.
“Then you'll go down on me so you can see how fucking gorgeous you look when you take all of me. Watch yourself swallow my cock, lips stretched wide around me.”
I began to move faster, higher, as his words painted pictures in my mind. The arousal that had been coiling tight inside me, building toward another explosion, sharpened with every syllable.
“I want to see what it looks like when I take you from behind, you on all fours in front of me, you up with your back to my chest and my hand between your legs. The way your tits move with every thrust.”
My eyes closed, a shudder running through me as Bron ran his thumb over my swollen clit.
“Eventually, I'll want you on top, facing away from me, so you can spread your legs wide, zoom in on my cock going into that tight pussy of yours. Then, after you come, I'll take your ass.”
I swore under my breath as an orgasm ripped through me. Every muscle stiffened, then went limp. I started to fall forward, but he sat up, catching me in his arms. He pressed his lips against my ear, still talking as he thrust up into me.
“Watch you come with my cock in your ass, and my fingers in your pussy. And then we'll watch them all. Over and over.” His teeth latched on to my earlobe, tugged. “Maybe think of a few new tricks.”
I clung to him as he rode me now, racing toward his own release. Each stroke, every little bit of friction, all of it was pushing me higher, sending new waves of pleasure over me, prolonging my climax until it was all I knew.
“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes.”
I wasn't sure if I was giving agreement to his suggestion of recording us, or simply repeating the only word I could form at the moment, but it didn't matter. Only him and me. Us.
He ground out my name as he exploded inside me, his arms tightening until it was hard to breathe. But I didn't want him to let me go. I never wanted him to let me go.
/> Even as I thought it, I felt the cool ring of metal on my finger. His promise that he would never leave me again. Only death would part us, and that would be a long way off. We had decades of future stretching out in front of us, filled with friends and family. With a home and children. Fighting and making up. Crying and making love. All of the things I'd always wanted, but only wanted with him.
It wasn't until some time later, as the two of us began to search for our clothes that I realized I had an important question that I needed to ask before things went any further, especially with the thought of children still hovering in my mind.
“What's our last name going to be?”
Bron paused in the middle of retrieving his shirt. “What?”
“Our last name,” I said. “When we get married, will our last name be Du Murier or Murray?”
He frowned for a moment and then grinned. “Neither.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “What do you mean neither?”
He came over and gave me a hard, thorough kiss. “How about Melendez?”
My eyebrows went up. “What?”
“Bron and Karis Melendez,” he said, his eyes dancing. “It's not traditional, but neither are we. Besides, I like the sound of it.”
So did I.
“Melendez it is.”
Before we went home, we christened the desk in his office and the couch in his waiting room. No point in not being thorough. Though, as I reminded him during the taxi ride, just to be on the safe side, we should probably make it a yearly thing. I wasn't entirely sure what it made safe, but it sounded good.
“Agreed,” Bron said. “On one condition.”
I looked up at him with the question on my face.
He leaned over and put his lips close to my ear. “We talk about getting a camera.”
I flushed and pressed my thighs together. “Hey, mister,” I called to the cabbie. “Change of plans. Stop by the first electronics store you see. We have to buy something.”
The End
Also by M. S. Parker
Con Man Box Set
