The tone of his voice sends a chill racing through me. Christ, what’s he going to do. I should say no, I almost do when Bastian gives me a pleading look, but then I remember what he did to me.
“Absolutely.”
I lower the gun and head for the door. As I shut it and start towards the kitchen, a scream rends the air.
Chapter Fifteen
Dante
My knuckles are bloody and hurting when I emerge from the study. I make my way to the kitchen, where I find Bel sitting at the breakfast bar. She glances up and takes in my injured hands with a spasmodic swallow.
“Are you . . .” she starts but trails off.
“The money is in your account,” I tell her a little tersely.
I don’t enjoy inflicting pain on others, unlike my brothers and father, so seeing a man lose control of himself while torturing him is an image I’m never getting out of my brain. It will eventually dull, though, just like past traumas inflicted by my family have for me.
Her brow draws together. “You got him to hand the money over?” She sounds surprised. I should be insulted that she thought I wouldn’t succeed, but I’m too mentally and physically drained.
“Yes, little bird.”
As I sink onto the nearest stool, she seizes my hand in hers and examines the cracked, bleeding skin. I can feel her trembling slightly beneath my touch and I wonder what she’s going to say, if she’ll have regrets about what we did.
She surprises me by saying, “What now?”
“Now, we pick a country with no extradition laws and disappear.”
I lean into her and kiss her softly, but with purpose. I want her to know she’s mine, and the way she moans against my mouth tells me she does.
“But your father—”
“Will get an anonymous tip that the man who stole his money is one Sebastian Dayton.”
“Will it come back to me?”
“No, little bird. They’ll not be able to follow the trail. Sebastian is clever, but I know a thing or two myself. I learnt from the best, after all.” I let out a huff of breath. Covering our trails was child’s play. Most of it I learnt from buying the farmhouse and hiding the paper trail with that acquisition, although Niko did teach me some things, too. “As far as my father will know, the money came here and then disappeared. He’ll never be able to pull the threads to find it. Truthfully, he won’t care to look too deeply. My father won’t care about the facts as long as he has someone to blame.”
She nods, her expression pensive.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Saving my life would be a good place to start, I suppose.”
My hand collars the back of her throat. “You saved mine just as much, Annabel. My father’s men would have killed me for sure.”
“Me too. I can’t believe he betrayed me like this.”
“You were a loose end, little bird. You knew too much about him and he needed the money trail to end with you, so he could disappear.”
It’s poetic justice that we’re planning on doing the same back to him— in my opinion anyway.
“So, where do you want to go?”
“Honestly, darlin’, I don’t care as long as it’s warm.”
She smiles at me. “We make a good team, Dante. Are you sure we should retire?”
I think she’s serious for a moment, but the grin on her face tells me otherwise. Still, I play along. “Was this not enough excitement for you?”
“More than enough,” she admits. “I prefer when I have the upper hand in situations.”
“I can imagine you do.”
She looks at me, her eyes soft. “Shall we get out of here?”
I push to my feet and take her hand in mine, pulling her off the stool. She slides into my arms, although I notice the slight wince as the movement tugs on her side. I would prefer to have a doctor look at it, but I don’t want to raise any flags about shootings at the hospital— we’re trying to fly under the radar, not light it up like a beacon. A gunshot wound, even if it is only a graze, will raise questions and bring attention we neither need nor want. I’m not a doctor, but I’ve cleaned a few gunshot wounds in my time and hers is barely a graze.
Brushing her hair back from her face, I peer down at her. She’s beautiful, soft and in this moment staring at me like I hang the moon on a stick.
How did we get here?
How did the thief become the lover?
I move my mouth to hers and slip my tongue inside when she parts her lips to grant me access. Our tongues duel for dominance as my hands slide up her spine. I wish we had time for me to show her exactly what she means to me, but we need to get going, fast.
With reluctance, I pull back from her and press a kiss to her forehead.
“Time to fly, my pretty little deceiver.”
She nods.
We spend a little time wiping the place down, hiding any evidence of our being here. I don’t know if we eradicate all our fingerprints, but we try. We then head out to the car and make our way to the airport.
Epilogue
Dante
Six months later . . .
I watch Bel from across the patio, her barely-there bikini making my dick swell in my shorts. The sun has left her with a healthy glow, her skin darker than it was six months ago, and her soft brown hair tumbles over her shoulders and down her back. She’s a picture of beauty and the urge to drag her over here and take her now is overwhelming.
She’s enjoying her escapades in the shallow end of the pool, though, and I’m enjoying watching her, so I keep my desires locked down. There will be time enough for that later.
It’s been six months since we put Sebastian Dayton’s head on the chopping block. I heard through the grapevine he met a sticky end, and that my father hasn’t been able to trace where he hid the money yet. Let’s hope it stays that way.
Dante Black and Cara Ellsworth disappeared the same day we paid Bastian a visit. We didn’t quite head straight to the airport. I put in a few anonymous tips about where my father could find Sebastian tied up and waiting for him, and Bel took us to the guy who creates her fake identities. With new names and new passports, we flew out of the UK three days later. It was a stressful time, but looking back now, I can almost forget it happened.
Within a week, we were settled in this paradise. And it really is a paradise. The sky is a deep blue that matches the sea and the heat is perfect. It took a little longer to buy the house, which is, despite the money we do have, modest. We didn’t want to draw too much attention or bring too many questions from curious locals. It’s a good-sized three-bedroom property with a pool and a double garage. It’s something we could afford as Jonas and Jen Matthews— our new pseudonyms. I miss Dante at times, but I prefer breathing, which this allows.
In private, Bel still calls me by my real name.
Usually when my cock is buried in her.
Bel turns and as she does, she gives me a radiant smile that has my dick swelling to critical levels. I need her. Now.
I push up from the sun lounger and stalk towards her, one thought on my mind. She glances up as I approach, her smile still soft and when I lift her in my arms, her legs wrap around my hips instinctively.
I devour her mouth, taking what I need, what she’ll give, and I’ve learnt with Bel, she’ll give whatever I demand. My hands stroke over her back as I walk us both into the bedroom and lower her onto the bed like she’s the most precious thing in the world. To me, she is. She brings out all my protective urges, my need to take care of her. No other woman has ever done that.
I go immediately to her breasts, shoving her bikini top up to reveal the pert dark nipples. Then, I go to work, sucking and laving my tongue over the buds until they harden. I split my attention between both the left and right, until she’s squirming beneath me, her breath coming out in little sharp pants. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see she’s fisting the sheets. Good. I want to leave my wanton little vixen begging me for release.
My free hand goes wandering under the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She’s wet, soaked in fact, so my fingers slide easily into her. Her back arches as I push deep, pushing my fingers further inside her pussy. I love feeling her sleek, silky warmth and my cock wants to be inside her now, but I remain patient, knowing I need to make this good for her too. If I get inside her, all bets are off. So, I continue to build her up to fever pitch, working her breasts and pussy in tandem.
It doesn’t take my girl long to get there and she comes hard and fast, her panting and moaning making my cock painfully hard and my balls tight. I don’t waste any more time, pulling my shorts down and fisting my dick in my hand. I rub the tip through her wetness, coating the end with a mix of her juices and my precum before I push inside her. She gasps and writhes as I fill her, her still contracting pussy trying to milk my dick. It takes me a moment to adjust before I start to move in her. I set a steady pace, my hands resting on the mattress at her sides as I push and pull, in and out of her.
She keeps her eyes locked to mine as I keep my rhythm, and I see the love shining back at me. And God, do I love her. I want her in every way imaginable. We’re the perfect fit. Two damaged souls, who just wanted acceptance.
I watch as she goes over the edge for a second time and I follow her a couple of strokes later. My pace slows but I don’t stop, even though it hurts a little. I fuck her through both our orgasms, all while peppering kisses down her neck.
I collapse onto her for a moment, my arms jellied, and then roll us both, so I’m beneath her now. We both moan as my dick slides out of her slick heat. I don’t want to lose her, but my cock is starting to soften anyway.
Her warm body snuggles against me, and she lets out a contented sigh. We lie in silence for a long time, until she says, “Are you happy?”
The question surprises me, so I brush her hair from her face, trying to see her expression.
“Of course I am. Darlin’, why do you ask?”
Is she not happy?
“I just wondered. You gave up a lot to be with me.”
This makes me snort. “I would give up everything, but Bel, I didn’t give up anything.”
“You had a cushy life. You can never return to that, or your family.”
“A family that tried to end my life,” I remind her.
“Good point . . .”
I kiss the side of her head. “I love you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, but here. Don’t doubt it for a second.”
And that is the truth. I love her with everything I have.
Stroking her hair, I say, “You’re mine, Bel. Always. You’re mine.”
“Even though I tricked you?”
“We both tricked each other,” I counter.
“True.” She snuggles against my chest, her fingers tracing patterns over my pecs. “I love you too.”
THE END
Acknowledgments
As usual, I have so many people to thank. Firstly, my friends and family. I wouldn’t be here writing and publishing without your belief in me. Thank you for buying my books, and championing me in every little way you can. I love you all.
I have to say a huge shout out to my author tribe: SE Roberts— you always champion my work and I’m a better writer because of you. Annabella Stone— girl, you keep me sane, which is ironic, right?
Thank you to Elizabeth for taking a chance on me and letting me be a part of this project. I loved every minute of writing this story.
Allisyn. You are always my biggest cheerleader. Thank you for your unending support and for always doing the fastest beta reading on the planet!
Pat, thank you for always telling me ‘I’ve got this’ and when I feel like I’m falling down the hole. Lynne, thank you for your friendship and for being a huge support. Stracey, I love you girl. Your support means the world to me.
My amazing group admins: Valerie, Michelle, and Debra. All your hard work allows me to focus on writing. I appreciate what you do so much, and I’m grateful for your friendships. You three are amazing ladies and I’m so lucky to have met you. I thank my lucky stars every day. Thank you for promoting my books and for being generally wonderful.
And lastly, to all my girls in the clubhouse . . . this book is for you. You guys are amazing. Your antics crack me up every day. From your crazy campaigns, to your hilarious posts about my characters, you keep me putting pen to paper. I adore you all. Thank you for taking a chance on this little-known girl from the UK and loving my books as much as you do. I love you all.
Also by Jessica Ames
Match Me Perfect
Pretty Little Deceiver (Web of Lies Anthology)
Stranded Hearts (Love, Unexpected 2020)
LOST SAXONS
Snared Rider
Safe Rider
Secret Rider
Claimed Rider
Renewed Rider
Forbidden Rider
Christmas Rider
About the Author
Jessica Ames lives in a small market town in the Midlands, England. She lives with her dog and when she’s not writing, she’s playing with crochet hooks.
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Betrayal
Leah Negron
Prologue
“Damnit, Marie. Why do you always do this? I don’t care that you and Ryan are crazy in love with each other. I wish you two would go be happy and just leave me alone. Why is it every single time Ryan makes a new friend or an old friend comes in from out of town, I get stuck going on a blind date with the schmuck? Why does he always feel like he has to fix them up to go on a double date with you two? Oh, wait a minute, it’s not them you two are fixing up, is it? You think I can’t find my own dates to be miserable with? Do I need to name off the last half dozen creeps you two have hooked me up with as a refresher as to why I do not want to go out with this guy?”
I stomped off before she could even reply to what I just said. Damn, why didn’t I see it sooner? I should have guessed that I am the sad sack they want to fix up. Why can’t they understand that after John died, a piece of me went with him? I’m just not ready to get my heart broken again. Maybe in time, but now is not that time. Especially with the newest loser on the list. God help me, I wonder what’s wrong with this one?
I don’t understand why they can’t get how hard this is for me. John was my whole world. We dated for almost three years when he surprised me with an engagement party. The stinker told me it was just a night out with our friends because we hadn’t all gone out in a few months. He really pulled a fast one on me that night.
Marie and John had spent weeks planning the party. How in the world those two were able to keep a secret for that long, I will never know. We went to Peter Luger’s in New York City for dinner. Afterward, we went to one of our favorite clubs. Somehow John had managed to get the DJ to play our favorite song, Perfect Symphony by Ed Sheeran and Andrea Bocelli. While we were slow-dancing, John sang the song softly to me as our friends surrounded us. Before I knew what was happening, there was a spotlight on us as John sank to one knee. The music still played but in a softer tone.
John took both of my hands in his, then began to pour his heart out to me. He looked me straight in the eyes as he pulled a little box from Tiffany’s out of his pocket. Opening it, the lights sparkled off the diamond engagement ring that was inside. Taking the ring out of the box, he took my left hand in his, placing the ring at the tip of my finger, then he asked me to be his wife for the rest of our lives. Through tears and laughter, I shook my head and yelled “yes” at the top of my lungs at the same time.
The whole place erupted with cheers and applause. We spent the next thirty minutes listening to toasts from our friends and congratulations from the other guests at the club that night. We continued to dance late into the night before we fin
ally decided to go home. A few of our friends had left earlier, but most of them were still partying hard when we left. All I could think about was wanting to get home so we could spend the rest of the night making love to each other over and over again. Ryan and Marie had driven us, so John had called an Uber to drive us from the Big Apple back home to Bayonne.
The last thing I remember was entering the Holland Tunnel heading back to Jersey. John and I were in the back seat, making out like a couple of teenagers. The tunnel always fascinated me at night, the lights flickering almost like fireflies because of the speeds that everyone drives. We had just stopped kissing long enough to catch our breaths when I told John how very much I loved him. Before he could respond, the Uber driver yelled for us to hang on as he slammed on the brakes, trying to avoid the accident that just happened in front of us.
It was almost a month later when I woke up in the hospital. My mom and Marie were chatting as they sat vigil at my bedside. I tried to say something, but there were tubes in my mouth keeping me from speaking. I started to panic, grabbing at the tubes, trying to yank them out. Mom spotted me first and grabbed my hands as Marie ran out of the room, screaming for the doctors and nurses that I was finally awake. Mom calmed me enough to keep me from pulling out all of the lines and tubes. As she looked at me, I searched her face as if I was asking her where John was. Why isn’t John here with me?
A couple of doctors and nurses came rushing in to take care of me. The doctor who spoke to me, I later learned, had been taking care of me since I had been admitted to the hospital. Dr. Cortez tried to keep me calm, so he talked to me as he was examining me.
Web of Lies Page 11
