“I have dreamt of this moment for years, Anna. I’m not letting you hide from me after we’ve gotten this far.” He lay next to her, drawing her into him. Her side pressed against his chest and his arm snaked underneath her head. Mavel pinched her left nipple and used his other hand to tug her panties down which she helped with by lifting her hips and bending her knees.
A smirk played on his lips when his hands parted her thighs enough to give him access. His fingers brushed past her dark curls. She squeezed her eyes shut as his feverish mouth captured hers.
Mavel found her sensitive spot and circled it. She bucked under his touch. It was as if her body burned from within. Every little sensation was amplified by the unison of his actions. To his quickening pace, her body hummed, dancing to his expert tune until she felt something growing inside of her with every stroke of his fingers.
Annalise cried out her pleasure, and Mavel broke the kiss, allowing her voice to fill the room. Rational thought was too far gone out of her mind. She no longer cared if anyone saw or heard her as her orgasm fried the logical circuits in her brain.
He moved his lips to her neck, sucking on her skin. It made goosebumps populate her right side in a single wave. The sudden cold quickly dissipated when he pushed two fingers inside of her, stretching her opening.
“Does it feel good, Anna?” he whispered into her ear, and she shivered at the way he said her name. It was intimate, fever-inducing, and loving at the same time. The word rolled off his tongue, and she couldn’t hold it any longer. Her walls clenched around his fingers in waves as she drifted over the edge again, falling into an explosion of heat.
When she returned to planet Earth, Mavel withdrew his fingers, and she whimpered at the sudden separation. He kissed her sweaty forehead and, the next thing she knew, she was straddling him.
She blinked a few times, uncertain as to what she was supposed to do.
“Don’t look so scared,” he said with a smile.
Annalise weakly smiled back, hesitation gnawing at the back of her mind.
Mavel shifted her until her chin rested on his chest. He planted a soft kiss on her nose when she heard his jeans being unzipped. Her body tensed around him, and he brushed the stray locks of hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ear.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
She felt foolish for doubting him. Mavel would never hurt her. He always did everything with her in mind.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Mavel used his hand to guide himself to her slick opening, making her gasp. He grasped her waist and pushed her back into a sitting position.
To keep another blush under control, she looked away. Her flushed cheeks turned tomato-red when she saw his thick length pressed against her.
Mavel took hold of his shaft with one hand. With the other, he held onto her hip and gently lowered her onto him.
At first, the tip slid into the strained opening, stretching her. She closed her eyes, trying to adjust to the new sensation.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
She did. After he sat up, he enveloped her in his arms. His lips found her neck as he sank all the way inside of her with a single tug on her hips, breaking the barrier that held her together.
Annalise cried out in pain, but he continued to move her up and down his length. The pain wore off and was quickly replaced by a different kind of pleasure that built with each thrust.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked.
She glanced at him. Sweat formed on his brow and his lips were fuller. She wanted to kiss them again and, at the same time, she wanted him to continue what he was doing.
She shook her head. “No.”
He flipped them over so that her back hit the cool sheets, and he was on top of her. Mavel sank his length all the way in, stretching her further than she thought was possible. With every masterful stroke, her breathing grew more laboured as if she was drowning in the desert heat. She grasped his shoulders, clutching them for support while his muscles danced beneath. His lips sought out hers and, as their tongues entwined, another edge neared, threatening her sanity.
“Please…” she whispered against his demanding lips.
He gave her a light peck. His hand gripped her right hip until his fingers dug into her skin. He quickened his pace.
Pain and pleasure merged into one. A scream escaped her as her climax took over. She felt her inner walls clenching around him as she arched into him. Wave after wave of heat swallowed her, extending to every nerve ending in her body. The feeling was so intense, she buried her nails in his shoulders, summoning a groan from him until he cursed under his breath and abruptly withdrew from her.
With her head still in the clouds, she frowned. His glistening chest and shoulders shook as he spilt himself on the sheets instead of inside of her.
“Why?” she managed in a hoarse voice.
Mavel chuckled and kissed her sweaty brow. He settled on the bed next to her, his chest heaving with his uneven breathing.
After a blissful minute, he drew her against him, draping one of her thighs across his legs. His thumb tickled her skin as he absently drew invisible circles on her thigh. “Even though you’ve had your quarterly birth control injection, I still won’t do that, Anna. This society will destroy you if you were to become pregnant with my child.”
His words sank in, and she scowled. “We could move to the Green District together. I—”
“And give up your job in Silver to work alongside the modded?” He shook his head. “We can’t do that, Anna. Not yet.”
Her heart squeezed. “Then what are we going to do?”
He stroked her hair, brushing a few damp strands away from her face. “For now, sleep.”
She rested her head on his arm. It was as if he knew exactly what she needed and when she needed it. Once she closed her eyes, sleep claimed her.
Sometime in the night, she wasn’t certain if it was a dream or reality, but the words he whispered into her ear made her smile. “I love you, Anna.”
Epilogue
That day, she slept like the dead. The only thing that ushered her out of her sleep was her wrist comms beeping until she accepted the call in a haze. “Yes?”
“Are you coming tonight?” Rios asked.
She sat up abruptly and rubbed her face into awareness. “Oh, right, the party. What’s the time now?”
He chuckled. “Are you still counting sheep? Didn’t you get enough rest at the hospital?”
Annalise blushed, thinking back to the previous night and Mavel. She glanced over her shoulder, but he was no longer there. He wasn’t in the room with her either.
“Storm?” Rios asked. “Hello?”
Annalise pushed her worry to the back of her mind. “Sorry, I got distracted. What was it?”
“Just wanted to tell you the drinks are on you, and I’ll see you there,” he added and ended the call.
She glared at her comms, even if it had no effect on the idiot who just called, and climbed out of bed. A hiss escaped her when her hips and thighs ached with every move she made. They hadn’t hurt this much since the Academy training days when their instructors chose to torture them by making the recruits run through the nearby mountains for hours. When she found some spare time, she vowed to utilise the gym facilities at the DPD.
Annalise checked her comms. She had about four hours to get ready and meet everyone at the Iron Carver. She ran into the bathroom and hopped in for a quick shower. Once she finished, she studied her distorted image in the fogged up mirror. With one swipe, she cleared enough steam to see her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her lips seemed fuller. She recalled Mavel’s kisses and sighed happily.
After towel-drying her body, she quickly changed into jeans and a tank top. Her hand hovered over the door handle. What reaction should I have when I see him again? What should I say? Putting on a smile, she ventured into the living area. To her dismay, Mavel wasn’t there either.
She glanc
ed over at the balcony and checked the kitchen. He wasn’t there either. Is he in his room? She edged closer to his door and knocked. “Mavel, are you in there?”
No response came. She tried a second time. Again, nothing happened. She gathered some courage and opened his door. The room was dark, so she clapped her hands.
The lights came on, pushing back the shadows. He wasn’t there either. Her heart sank as she shuffled backwards into the hallway. What exactly does this mean? Her mind didn’t want to process the possible answers. Mavel wouldn’t just leave without a word or an explanation. He cared about me, right?
She stumbled into the kitchen and consumed an already made cup of cold coffee on the kitchen island. A handwritten note lay next to the lone mug.
With a trembling hand, she unfolded the piece of paper.
Dearest Anna,
I couldn’t stay by your side, not when the world remains the same. I don’t want to see you tormented by our society which is why I had to leave.
At the City Hall, I met my real father for the first time. He was a kind man—a man who wanted to change the way things were in Divinity in a calm manner, but he was eliminated by the Falcon Group for trying. This is another reason I cannot stay by your side. You could be harmed while they chase me. You could die, and it would tear me apart. I cannot risk you.
So, please forget about me. Live the life you were supposed to live.
Mavel Steinberg
Her hand covered her sobs as she slid to the ground. Tears freely fell from her eyes and ran the length of her face. He left her without bothering to ask if she wanted to remain stuck in this Tower, surrounded by politics and greed. She would have gone with him if he had bothered to mention this last night.
She crumpled his note and threw it across the room. He left my side! What life was she supposed to live without him in the picture? Was she supposed to marry the man her parents chose without question?
“You should have just asked… Damn it!” she yelled and hit the ground with her shaking fists, sending a current of pain through her wrists.
She swiped at her tears. This had to be some kind of a sick joke. He would come back to her side in a day or two, wouldn’t he? She buried her face in her palms, letting out her frustration in the form of a muffled scream.
Once her outburst subsided, she stumbled into her bedroom. Her logical side was finally kicking in, even though she didn’t accept her situation. Mavel was on the run from Falcon. No matter how hurt she was by his disappearance, his staying by her side would get him captured or killed. She couldn’t allow for that to happen. Not when she fought so hard to get him out.
She glanced at her terminal. Falcon hadn’t taken everything. She still had the video of Dawson’s assault of Leila Green and the files related to Robert Fern’s death. If what Todd had said was the truth, then their blood was on Falcon’s hands. But, how to prove it?
Her comms beeped, reminding her that it was time for her to leave for the Red District to meet with the others. She was about to call Rios and cancel, but her finger froze over the call button. If she didn’t show up, the others would be suspicious.
Right now, she didn’t have time to nurse her wounded heart nor did she have the evidence to bring down Falcon. Sucking in a deep breath, she got ready. Everyone at the HPD would be waiting for her. Once again, she would be who she was meant to be all along—a good cop.
Chief rose from his seat at the table and lifted his pint of cider into the air. He tugged his pink shirt over his belly with his free hand. “I want to officially welcome Detective Annalise Storm into our division. I know I can be a hardass, but I do it because I want each and every one of you guys to stay with me for as long as possible.”
A cheer erupted from everyone around the table.
Annalise managed a smile, and Rios waved for the Chief to sit back down. Next, he lifted his half-empty pint into the air. “To my new friend, I am sure we’ll make a great ménage à trois.”
Des elbowed him in the side. “I doubt she’ll sleep with you, Rios. You’re running out of pickup lines.”
Laughter broke out from the group, and Annalise joined in. She just had to smile and laugh and the emptiness in her heart was bound to go away. The pain was only temporary, or so her best friend, Monique, would have said if she was there.
Rios sat back down, loosening the top two buttons of his shirt.
After him, Jamen rose, making the metal buckles of his leather jacket jingle. He planted his hand on her shoulder.
Annalise looked up, confused.
Smirking, he addressed everyone at the table. “Storm has a lot to learn as a detective. She doesn’t ask enough questions, makes rash decisions, and death seems to follow her.”
“Wow, Jamen, I don’t think you should apply for a Supreme Judge position any time soon. Your speeches suck,” Rios said, and Des nodded.
Jamen rolled his eyes. “Let me finish, idiot. What I meant to say is that it’s our job to face the death of Divinity’s citizens on a daily basis. It is also our duty to try to keep those numbers to the minimum. In time, I’m sure you’ll make a good detective, Storm.”
Chief and the others clapped. As if on automation, Annalise joined in.
“I couldn’t have said better myself,” Chief added.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Des replied.
Chief chuckled, and everyone’s attention turned to Calla who sat behind the table as quietly as Annalise.
The flare sighed and downed the rest of her glowing orange cocktail. She slammed her glass down. “I don’t see a reason why I have to welcome her.” Calla stood and stormed off.
“I’ll be right back.” Jamen ran after her.
Chief cleared his throat. “Don’t mind her. She had been through a lot, and Jamen is the only person who understands her.”
His words piqued Annalise’s interest. “What did happen to her?”
“I’m sure one day she or Jamen will tell you.”
“Makes sense.”
Rios clasped his hands together in mock excitement. “We should play a drinking game!”
Des draped her arm over his shoulder and grinned. “I’ll drink you under the table.”
“That’s fine,” he winked at Annalise, “since I’m not paying.”
Unable to hold it in, Annalise burst out laughing. No matter how hollow her heart felt, these people—this team—managed to make her smile.
“You two, go get us more drinks,” Chief ordered to Rios and Des.
They both slid off their stools and sauntered to the bar.
Chief studied her with his measuring stare. He ran his fingers through his thinning grey hair. “Look, Storm, I can see you are not in the best of moods.”
“No, I’m fine.”
He shook his head. “The amount of shit you had to wade through on your first case is unusual. I thought it was an easy matter of beast possession. You know, obvious suspect, obvious crime. I was wrong. I should have chosen a better case for you, maybe then—”
“Chief, the case is not the issue. What’s done is done. I just have to sort out my feelings.”
“Good. I want you at your desk tomorrow morning,” he replied with a soft smile.
“Does that mean I’m getting a new partner?”
“Yes. He’ll report to my office at nine. Be on time.”
She returned his smile with one of her own. “Yes, sir.”
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About the Author
“Lover of cake, life, and writing.”
May was born in the little Eastern country called Ukraine where winters are harsh and summers are too sunny. Having moved to Ireland at the age of twelve, she learned to appreciate the temperate climate.
In her spare time, aside from writing, she likes to daydream of character murder (hopefully, it
is the bad guys), plotting the next mystery, watching TV series, or simply diving into books.
May is a fan of fantastical, gruesome, horror, and a sucker for romance.
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Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my editor, C. J. Laurence, for being a good friend and a butcher of text.
I also would like to thank everyone on my launch team: Y. Arcangel, L. Adams, M. Greenhill, J. Rubin, A.I. Diaz, L.W. Stuart, R.S. Kovach, M. Appkova, A. Simons, G. Cabezut, F. Loqman, N. Burger, S.G. Benson, K. Oyatedor, E. Hyder, J. Lyons, K. A. Blount, T. Archer, S. Royal, L. Santiago, J. Stark, A. Santos, R.J. Cieplinski, T. Oja, D. Goelz, K. Jacques, I. Galvez, M.J. Quinn, R.C. Kisiel, C. McDonnell, M. Hayes, S. Mason.
Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1) Page 20
