“I’m her hired gun and cat wrangler.” I smirk.
Her brows raise but thankfully, she doesn’t contradict me.
“You, young lady, need to stop this foolishness and go home to bed.”
My thoughts exactly.
“What about my kitty? I want him back.” The woman pads over to my car and when she looks in the back seat, Chloe bares its teeth and claws.
“Sorry. She’s a witness.” Sam slips between the door and the woman.
“Huh?” When her mouth drops open, more green stuff crumbles to the pavement.
Sam opens the door and puts the carrier in her lap. “I’m taking her into protective custody.”
“You will do no such thing.” The woman reaches through the window and when Sam rolls it up, her father sighs.
“If you want the cat, you’ll need to come downtown and file a complaint.”
“In the morning, you can be sure I will.” With a huff, she stomps her huge croc-a-slippers into the house and slams the door.
Her father scratches his head, approaches, and glances at the hole in my side door.
“You got a lot of enemies, son?”
“Enough. But probably not in this neighborhood.”
“Hmmph.” He takes a few photos with his camera, goes back to his car, then returns. “You sleeping with her, Sutcliff?”
“The cat?”
His fists clench. “No, my daughter, wiseass.”
“If I was, and I’m not sayin’ either way, I believe that would be between me and her.” I keep my face neutral so as not to piss him off any more than he already is.
Scowling deeper, he jots down my license. “You work for Patten, right?”
“Yes sir.”
He hands me the keys to his car. “You will drive her straight home.”
“I will sir, and thank you sir.”
Sam breaks into hysterics once we get out of range. “Seriously? Yes sir?”
“Yes ma’am.” I snicker and then I can’t help but laugh with her. “Your dad is scary as fuck.”
“He’s a teddy bear.” She snickers at my disbelief. “Really. He is.”
Chapter 10
Sam
I laugh and tell jokes about my dad all the way to Bensonhurst because I don’t want Sebastian to know that bullet scared the fuck out of me. I’ve never been shot at before and frankly, think it’s overrated.
I picture a new banner for my website. Sam Russo, Private Dick and Pet Detective. Does not piss herself when fired upon.
“Y’all look kind of pale. You okay?” Suds’ large hand rests on my knee and tries to stop it from shaking.
“How come you’re so calm? You ever been shot at before?”
He snickers and glances out his peripheral vision. “I was in the service, sugar. That little bit of buckshot don’t even count.”
The cat meows pitifully in her lap which reminds me of our mission. “Should we drop him off with Frankie and collect your money?”
“Chloe does sound sad. What if she likes it here better?”
“Highly unlikely, but you can tell the mister how you plan to stop by and make sure this little girl is being treated right. So, where does the hitman live?”
“I’m not sure. I’m going to text Pete to arrange a drop off.”
When he raises his brows, I add. “Well, you wouldn’t expect a killer to give me his address, would you?”
“Good gawd almighty, Sam. No, no. Of course not.” Muttering to himself, he focuses on the expressway leading us back into Brooklyn. Thankfully, at this hour it’s pretty quiet.
“Pete’s not answering. Shit.”
“Good.” Suds drives around my block a few times all the while cursing Brooklyn’s parking. He finally settles for a spot close to an intersection and near a hydrant.
“Hold on.” I hand him the cat carrier, reach into my purse, and pull out my dad’s business card.
After placing it prominently on the dash, I lead the way to my apartment with one of Suds’ hands solidly at my back, the other carrying Chloe.
I forgot to warn him the driveway flood lights have a sensor and he draws his weapon, points, and kneels when they blind him.
Chloe meows pitifully and my hopes of getting past Joey are dashed when the baby cries. As we walk in, he holds little Kimmy on his hip and jabs an index finger in my direction.
“We got a curfew here, Sammy.” He holds up his phone from the table, so I can read the time, then his mouth drops open when Suds pops in behind me.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” While my cousin frowns, his baby holds out her hands to me.
“Language Joey.” I grab Kimmy and jiggle her up and down until she laughs.
Suds holds up my dad’s keychain with NYPD on it. “Her dad gave me his car, told me to take her straight home.”
The cat meows and Kimmy squirms to get down. “Kiddy, kiddy.”
“Is that Frankie’s?” While Joey looks down at the carrier, Suds nods and I hold the baby low so she can look but not touch.
Joe grabs the handle. “I’ll take her to him. Consider this month’s rent paid.”
“And if Frankie wants to tip me?” I grab the carrier back.
“Forget abouddit. It’s mine for helping youz out.” I hesitate but Suds grabs the plastic case and places it on the kitchen table.
“Deal.” Then, my bodyguard grabs my arm and pulls me up the stairs.
“Hey! I was still negotiating.” I glance down where Joey waves and snickers below.
“No screwing around, you two. Vinny’s rules.”
Suds mutters something vile about my relatives and when we get to the railing at the top of the stairs he stares at the metal gate, the only barrier between us and the stairway. His eyes burn in frustration and I totally get it. This isn’t how I imagined our night ending, either.
“Your apartment has no back wall? What the fuck, Sam?”
“Shsh. You’ll wake Rose and Mia. I have to work in the morning, anyhow.”
He opens my refrigerator, grabs a beer, and holds it up. “This okay to drink?”
I nod as he takes a deep swig then hands it to me. “Work, huh. Another missing cat? Dog? Ferret?”
“No, none of that.” I don’t want him to know I’m washing hair at Aunt Marion’s salon. I mean, I have some pride.
“Samantha… Tell me about this other job. Maybe it has to do with why we were shot at.” He pushes me against the wall, his hard body pressed to mine, his thigh between my legs. “I have ways of making you talk.”
“Joey said no sex.”
“What happens upstairs, stays upstairs.”
“He’ll hear us.”
“Not if you don’t scream.” His mouth covers mine and my knees melt.
If I thought I could resist him, I was so, so wrong. Moaning, I slip my fingers under his ears and clasp my hands behind his neck to hold his head down, lips on mine.
When I open my mouth, he slips in his tongue and lifts his knee to press up into my already wet want. We kiss, the heat rising about a hundred degrees while downstairs, the cat cries, bringing me to my senses.
“Shit. My bedroom.” Rose or Mia might wake up and find us humping against the fridge.
Awkward.
I grab his hand, walk us to the center door which is my bedroom. The mattress lies on the floor and he smiles wolfishly as I lower down.
He throws off his shirt, his holster comes next, followed by his boots, which I can’t help but notice have two knives inside.
My curtain-less window lets in light from the bodega down the street and his abs shine. How could I have forgotten how truly amazing his body is. It’s only been a couple weeks since we made love but it feels like a lot longer.
My throat goes dry as I kick off my sneakers and shimmy out of my jeans. In just his black jockey’s he lowers onto the bed.
He pulls my shirt over my head, removes my bra, and slips off my undies.
While down there, he spreads my legs
apart and kisses my upper thighs, then my center spot until I moan.
Chuckling, he puts a finger to my lips and whispers, “Shsh. You want your Uncle Vinny to kill me?”
His mouth moves up my body, pausing at my breasts which he takes in his hands, and squeezes so he can nibble at one tight tip, then the other.
When he sucks, I hiss when a taut nerve pulls at my clit, and liquid pools.
Playing me like some master musician, he kisses at a pulse point in my neck while pulling my hair to hold me in place.
He nibbles my ear. “This is not revenge sex. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” This is post-trauma sex, but I don’t have the brain right now to clarify. It’s still not the same as making love.
I reach for the hard silkiness of his cock and wrap my fingers around him. A strangled noise sounds deep within him but hopefully not loud enough for anyone to hear.
His right hand slides down my shoulders, under my arms, and down my waist. There, he takes a detour to my belly button and straight into my short curls.
His fingertip finds my wet want covering my swollen nub and he swells inside my fist. My thumb finds his precum and he groans into my mouth.
Our kisses grow more passionate as we bring each other to the brink.
When he places himself at my core, I hiss, “On the pill. Clean.”
“Ditto.”
He slowly slides into me, allowing me time to adjust to his huge size. “We good?”
I nod. It’s so damn good I can’t speak and the orgasm I’m about to have is teetering on the edge of heaven.
It’s the kind of torture that a woman can only dream about.
He waits, in this pushup, all his muscles tensed until I open my eyes.
“That’s right, darlin’. I need to see you when you cum.”
I squirm and arch, trying to find my nirvana and he grins. “What’s your hurry?”
He makes a few little circles inside of me, not quite hitting the bullseye.
“Move, dammit.” I wrap my heels around his thighs, dig my nails into his back, and buck.
“Yes ma’am.” He drops down onto his elbows so my butt is back on the bed and thrusts deep.
His core caresses my nub and I’m so close to cumming but I try to hold back until he’s ready as well.
He grows thicker and when I moan, he puts his mouth over mine. His back muscles grow taut, his movements grow wilder, and I hang on for the ride.
We crash together, sweat lubricating us, as we fight to hold onto sanity. Suddenly, his finger slides between us, he presses, and I shoot to the stars.
He follows with a primal grunt which satisfies something so deep, I can’t begin to describe it. Exhausted, we fall onto the mattress and sleep.
A few hours later, my alarm goes off and I groan.
Chapter 11
Suds
As I lie awake in her bed totally sated, I think back on the first time I had sex with Sam. Damn, the woman blew my mind. This time, it’s life-altering because now I know what happened in DC was no accident or some weird frame of mind. Samantha is it, the one I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with.
I don’t dare fall asleep so relax and enjoy the sound of her light snoring. It feels right with her nose nestled into my chest and her hair all mussed up under my chin.
When she moans and turns, I move to let her use my bicep as a pillow and spoon behind her. If she wasn’t so tired, we could have another go at it but she says she needs to work in the morning.
God knows what she’s got herself into this time but for sure, she’s pissed someone off enough to shoot at her. Who the hell would dare fire a weapon at Vinny’s niece? He or she must have a death wish. Until we figure it out, I’m sticking close.
When her alarm goes off, I’ve rested enough to get through another day but I’ll need real sleep soon or I’ll crash.
“Hey.” My gorgeous woman turns and opens her eyes partway.
“Hey yourself,” I pull her hair away from her face so I can kiss her.
It starts out as a good morning kiss but soon heats up to something that will lead to her being late for work until someone knocks on her door.
A female calls out. “Hurry up, sleepyhead or you’ll be late.”
Sam breaks away from my mouth. “Coming.”
“Late night?” A second, higher voice joins in.
Moaning, Sam pulls out of my grasp and shouts loudly as she searches her dresser. “Yeah. I finally caught Chloe. Joey’s going to do the handoff.”
“He’ll take your money.” This comes from the first voice.
“I know but he says it will cover my rent.” Sam grabs a t-shirt and undies and stares aghast when the bedroom door opens.
“Oh shit.” A pretty olive-skinned roommate turns bright red and slams it shut. “Sorry.”
Good thing I was covered in a sheet or she would’ve gotten an eyeful.
Her voice comes from under the door. “Nice to meet you, whoever you are. I’m Rose, the sinner. My sister is Saint Mia.”
“Nice, Rose, real nice.” The higher voice sounds from the bathroom.
Figuring morning sex is now no longer part of our agenda, I kiss Sam and search her bedroom floor for my clothes.
Once I’m dressed, I give a warning. “Are y’all decent out there? Can I come out?”
When two feminine affirmatives sound, I pull the pillow away from Sam’s face and kiss her again. “It’s going to be fine. They were bound to find out.”
“Okay, but so you know, this was almost-getting-killed-sex. It doesn’t count.”
“Are we going to categorize all of our fucks, or just the first few? I may need to take notes because I don’t want to mess this up.”
While I grin, she throws a pillow at me. I figure she needs coffee so make myself useful in the kitchen.
Her two roommates go wide-eyed. The shyer of the two blushes so I figure she must be Saint Mia. They both bear some resemblance to Sam.
“Suds.” I shake their hands. “We got in real late so I stayed.”
“Riigght.” Rose laughs. “We’ll go with that.”
“Cheerios?” Mia holds up the box.
“No, just coffee.”
Sam joins us, her hair still wet from a fast shower and Mia’s mouth drops open. “You can’t go out with wet hair! You could die.”
Sam rolls her eyes. “Stop quoting Nonna. There is no truth to the old wives tale what-so-ever. Wet hair does not lead to death.”
Rose snickers. “It does if Aunt Marion sees you looking all sex-fucked, especially without makeup.”
When I raise my brows in question, the older and darker of the two cousins explains. “We work at my mom’s hair salon and she’s a stickler for looking professional.”
Whoa now. So that’s the other job Sam’s been talking about? Now I need to rethink the whole bullet in the car thing. I try to get Sam’s attention but she’s already halfway out the door.
At the bottom landing, they all say in unison, “Bye Joey. Bye Kimmy.”
The baby waves and before the man can give me any grief, I follow the girls down the stairs and out into the street.
While they run, I jog to catch up with Sam. “Do you cut men’s hair?”
“Sure she does.” Rose answers for her, Sam grows redder, and she speeds up.
I catch her arm and get her to stop for one goddamn minute.
“Are we good?” I hope to God I wasn’t too rough on her last night
She frowns, her pretty lips in a pout. “I wasn’t ready for you to know I was working at the salon.”
“Why the hell not? I want to know everything about you.” I catch her chin in my hand so she can’t look away from me but her eyes still turn to the sidewalk.
“Because it’s such a huge step down from where I want to be, what I used to be…” Her big brown eyes drip a couple of tears which she angrily wipes away.
The other girls are halfway down the block so I kiss her nose and take her into my a
rms. “Ah, Sugar. It won’t be for long. Already Slate wants you back for more work.”
She brightens. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I laugh as I take her hand and break into a run. “We might’ve had a couple other things on our mind.”
“Like the cat?”
“Ah-huh. Yeah. The cat.”
Her smile gets all sexy, no doubt thinking about last night and everything is cool until I walk inside the salon where five gray-haired ladies stop and stare with their jaws all but hitting the floor.
I’m used to women staring so I wink and put a palm to my dark mop. “Hi ladies. I need a trim off the top.”
“Dibs on washing his hair.” Rose grabs my arm and drags me to the back of the parlor but Sam pushes her aside.
“Don’t mess with me, I’m armed.” Grinning, she pushes on my back and has me sit down in front of a pink sink.
When she taps the empty tip jar I cross my arms and shake my head. “I’ll only leave a tip, if you’re good.”
“Oh, I’m good, Suds,” She purrs. “Real good.”
She clicks something underneath my chair and the back reclines until my neck hits porcelain. Lifting my head, she twists it a little, then sets it back down.
When she sprays my head, she asks, “Is the water too hot?”
Hell, yeah, this is too hot. With all these women around, it’s way too damn hot.
Her fingertips dig into my scalp and I moan. Holy shit, my cock goes hard and my heart beats fast as she massages my head, shampoos, and rinses. Disappointment lingers until another bottle appears and she does it all over again. Without a doubt, that was the sexiest hair washing I’ve ever had.
Towel dried, I’m led to where Rose stands by a chair, scissors in hand. “How much you want cut off?”
I’m about to direct her when my phone pings.
Funnin’ over I turn to Sam, stand, and grab her hand. “It’s Slate. He says we need to go now.”
“Sorry Aunt Marion.” Sam throws her apron in a closet while I dig out my wallet and place five twenties on the counter.
“Thank you. Nice to meet y’all.” Outside, I call Slate. “What’s up?”
Suds and Sam Page 6
