by Chris Taylor
She grinned. “Seven minutes from Waverton to Town Hall. It’s great. I love it.”
“I hope you won’t mind too much leaving it behind?”
For a moment, she pretended to consider his question and then answered. “Mm, let me see. You know what? I think I’m prepared to rough it in your little shack by the water.” She shrugged. “It’s kind of grown on me.”
“Are we back to that mold thing again?” Will teased.
Smiling, she stepped away from him and walked the short distance to her bedroom.
* * *
Savannah strolled past the broom closet and Dylan gritted his teeth. He was still in shock that his sister had brought a man home. And not just any man—she’d brought home William Rutledge, the son of the advertising mogul.
Dylan had recognized him straight away. He looked just like he had in the photos. And here he was, following Savannah into her bedroom.
What the fuck? He shook his head in confusion and swallowed a sigh. The door to Savannah’s bedroom stood open. The broom closet was diagonally opposite. There was no way he could sneak out without being seen. With his jaw clenched tight, he settled in to wait.
* * *
Will followed Savannah into her bedroom. By the time he got there, she’d stripped off the borrowed T-shirt and board shorts and wore nothing but her bra. His heart thumped.
Seemingly oblivious to his presence, she strolled across the room to a chest of drawers and bent low to pull out the bottom one. He was treated to a view of her naked rear end. She bent over and he caught a hint of the soft pink lips of her sex.
He sucked in his breath. Blood thundered through his veins and centered in his cock. He was amazed he could get hard so quickly after the marathon sessions of sex they’d enjoyed over the past couple of days.
“I beg to differ about the view. It’s every bit as good as the view I have from my condominium.” His voice was thick with need. He stepped forward and ran a finger along her exposed slit, feeling her liquid warmth envelop it. “In fact, I think it’s even better.”
He probed her deeper with his fingers. Savannah gasped and stood slowly upright.
“Mm, that feels very nice.” She leaned back against him. His free hand came around to play with her breasts. Fiddling one-handed with the clasp of her bra, he eventually gave up and pulled the garment over her head. It dropped to the floor.
Within moments, his cock was thick and hard and throbbing. He pressed it up against the soft cheek of her ass. His fingers continued working rhythmically inside her. He now knew just how she liked it. A thrum of satisfaction surged through him when she pressed down onto his hand and breathlessly pleaded for more.
Standing on tip toes, she drove herself up and down on his fingers. Within minutes, her movements became frantic. Mewling noises of need escaped her tightly compressed lips.
Kneading her breasts with one hand, he murmured soft words of encouragement and did his best to ignore the painful throbbing between his legs. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me, babe.”
Moments later, she fell over the edge and collapsed against him. He eased his fingers out of her. Turning her around to face him, he kissed her before picking her up in his arms and laying her down on the four-poster bed that dominated the room.
* * *
Dylan listened to the sound of them fucking and curled up his lip. Of all the times to be caught hiding in Savannah’s condo, it had to be the one and only time she brought a man home. From the sounds coming from the bedroom, the pair of them were well and truly occupied.
He could do it now. He could whack both of them. They wouldn’t even know what had happened. Unless something went wrong. Unless Rutledge saw him before he had a chance to kill him.
Dylan suddenly remembered he hadn’t brought a weapon and cursed under his breath. He hadn’t thought he’d need one because he towered over his sister and weighed nearly double. Once he had his hands around her throat, it would only be a matter of minutes before she was dead.
He hadn’t counted on her having company—and definitely not company who looked like he could handle himself. Muscles bulged across the man’s arms and shoulders. He was taller than Dylan and easily outweighed him. Rutledge would be no soft target.
With a sigh of resignation, Dylan cracked open the door to the broom closet and slipped into the hall. The sounds from the bedroom continued, camouflaging the slight noise the front door made when he swung it open.
Closing it behind him, he jogged down the short flight of stairs and into the yard below. His sister lived to see another day. Determination surged through him. The third time, she wouldn’t be so lucky. He’d make sure of it.
* * *
Savannah lay spread-eagled across the bed, her legs opened wide. Sheathing his cock with a condom from his wallet, Will positioned himself between her legs and plunged into her slick center. He groaned in ecstasy when her tight walls hugged him close. He thrust hard once, twice. The third time he spurted his release and collapsed on top of her, spent.
“We have to stop doing this,” he mumbled when he’d recovered the power of speech. He rolled onto his side and grinned at her. “It’s not normal. I’m sure it’s not. I know I’ve never done it this much before. Do you think we might do ourselves an injury?”
A blush crept across her cheeks. She lowered her gaze. “I am beginning to feel a little sore down there. It’s probably just as well you’re going out this afternoon.”
He was immediately concerned. “Did I hurt you? Why didn’t you say something?”
She shrugged and looked away. “I’m okay. I’m not used to all the friction, I think. And it was worth it.”
He grinned again. “Okay, I’ll try and leave you alone for the rest of the day. Good thing I have work to do. At least the job will take my mind off trying to get you naked.”
“Yes, good thing.” She smiled back at him.
Will frowned, remembering her earlier resistance. “You’re sure you’re all right with me leaving you?” His eyes probed hers.
Her gaze slid away, but she smiled with reassurance. “Of course, I am. You’re just doing your job. I understand.”
“Is it okay if I drop you off at my place about two? That’ll give me a few hours to meet with Pete and get the lowdown before I have to be at the brothel.”
“Actually, I might stay here tonight, if that’s okay with you? I presume you’re going to be home late?”
He nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, it’s gonna be another late one. But you don’t have to stay here. I’d be more than happy to come home in the wee hours and find you warming my bed.” He grinned at her.
“As tempting as that sounds, I think I might spend the night here and get a head start on the packing. You’re still happy for me to move in, aren’t you?”
He pulled her close. “You bet. The sooner, the better. Tomorrow wouldn’t be too early.”
Savannah leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Will held her head with one hand and deepened the kiss, slanting his lips over her mouth. Fierce emotion scorched his soul.
“I-I love you, Savannah.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “You do? Are you sure? I-I mean, just because we’ve had fantastic sex and I’ve agreed to move in with you doesn’t mean—”
Will made an impatient sound in the back of his throat. “Would you be quiet? I just told you I love you. Can’t you simply accept it and tell me you love me back?”
Savannah blushed and dropped her gaze. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think—”
Will cut her off again, suddenly needing her confirmation.
“Savannah, I’m dying here. Do you love me, or not?”
“Of course I do. I never imagined loving anyone like I love you. I’m still trying to get my head around it all. It feels so…so…” She shrugged helplessly, unable to find the words.
“I know exactly what you mean. I feel it, too.” He took her hand and placed it against the bare skin of his chest,
right over his heart. “You’re in here. Way deep inside. I’m not sure how it happened, but just so you know, I’m never gonna let you go.”
CHAPTER 25
Saturday evening
It was a little after eight-thirty when Will arrived outside the Black Opal. It was too early for many of the club’s regular patrons, but the surveillance guys had reported the place was abuzz with extra security. Something was definitely going down.
A Tactical Response Group, or TRG taskforce, had been hastily assembled earlier in the day and now waited in cars strategically parked along the street outside the brothel. As soon as Will gave the signal, armed law enforcement officers would raid the building.
Striding to the entrance, he cast a casual glance around him. The usual bouncers were outside the closed front door, but three more guards stood off in the shadows to his left. A quick glance to his right identified two others who leaned against the end of the building, smoking and talking quietly.
Will gave the doormen a brief nod and greeted them with a smile. “Evening, fellas.”
“Good evening, sir,” the taller of the two responded, stepping forward to open the door.
“Busy night?” Will asked, keeping his voice conversational.
“Not so far,” the other one replied. “But it’s a bit early, yet. You wait until midnight; the place will be pumping.”
“Sounds good.” Will stepped through the doorway and into the foyer. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness and then made his way over to the bar. He took a seat on one of the barstools and ordered a scotch. From his vantage point, he surveyed the room.
The crowd was comprised of a few small groups of men at separate tables. Another man sat on his own near the stage, talking into a cell phone and taking intermittent sips from a glass of dark liquid that had been placed in front of him.
The stage was silent and empty, but a couple of scantily clad Asian girls worked the room, carrying trays of drinks from the bar and occasionally stopping to engage the men in conversation. As far as he could tell, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
In fact, given the meager scattering of patrons, the increased security presence seemed way out of place. His curiosity was aroused. Their intelligence appeared to be spot-on, but the action sure as hell wasn’t happening in here. It was time to take a closer look outside. A lot of old houses had bunkers built beneath them during the war. It was possible Maranoa had access to one of them. It was the only thing that made sense. The inside of the building sure as hell wasn’t large enough to store the quantity of drugs it appeared they were talking about. It would also explain why drugs weren’t found in the last raid.
An unfamiliar barman sat a drink before him. Will fished out his wallet and handed over a few bills. “Listen, mate. I’ve left my phone out in the car. Do you mind keeping an eye on my drink for a minute?”
The man eyed him in silence and then gave him a brief nod.
“Thanks. Won’t be long.”
Will returned the way he’d come, stepping outside and straight into one of the bouncers.
“Oomph!” The full force of Will’s shoulder jabbed into the bouncer’s back. He grunted and fell forward. The ploy worked as Will had hoped. Within seconds, a second bouncer strode up to see what the fuss was about.
Will held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “Sorry, mate, just coming out to get my phone from the car. I didn’t see him behind the door.”
Successfully setting up a valid reason for him to be once again outside, Will sauntered from the brothel and headed toward his parked car. As soon as he was out of sight, he crossed to the other side of the road. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way past the brothel again and sought out a path to the rear of the building.
The sliver of moon provided little assistance as he picked his way over the rough ground, but it also made it easier for him to stay hidden. Ducking behind some shrubbery overhanging the fence that adjoined the brothel, he discovered a narrow pathway that ran between the two buildings.
He trod carefully and did his best to minimize the crunching sound of the gravel and rocks beneath his boots. He halted and listened for the guards. He heard nothing but the sound of his own intermittent breathing and the adrenaline-charged pumping of his heart.
Rounding the end of the building, he found himself in a medium-sized backyard. Apart from a single tiny patch of dirt directly beneath the solitary tree, the ground had been concreted right up to the high wooden fence that completely surrounded the property.
One way to save on mowing.
In the meager moonlight, and with assistance from a light that glowed above the back door, he made out an old rotary clothesline that stood in the cracked concrete about thirty feet from the back door.
A large blue dumpster sat in the far corner, deep in the shadows. He took a quick look around to make sure the way was clear and then jogged over to it.
At first, he thought it was empty, but when the moon came out from behind a cloud, he noticed a bundle of old newspapers caught on the bottom. Leaning over the rusted metal side of the dumpster, he grabbed hold of the thin nylon rope that tied them together and hauled them out.
The first thing he noticed was the rectangular-shaped piece that was missing from the middle. The lines of the cut were clean and had been made with a sharp instrument—more than likely a box cutter. The rectangular hole measured about the size of a tissue box and had been cut right through the entire bundle of papers.
Holding them up to the faint moonlight, he saw it was the Daily Mirror. The date on the top page was January twentieth—a few days ago. He flicked through the bundle, pulling pages randomly from the thin nylon that bound them.
Same thing. Each one was a copy of the Daily Mirror. Each one was dated January twentieth.
Having nowhere to stow the bundle, he carefully tore off the front page from one of the papers and folded it until it fit inside his shirt pocket and then scanned the back fence for an opening. The rocky path he’d traversed between the buildings was far too narrow to allow for a garbage truck, or any vehicle for that matter. There had to be a gate in the fence somewhere.
Voices coming from the direction of the brothel caught his attention. He cast around for somewhere to hide. With nothing but the dumpster to conceal him, he scooted back to it and crouched low in the shadows.
He raised himself until he could see above the heavy rusted metal. A pair of security guards rounded the building. With flashlights in their hands, it was obvious they were doing a routine patrol.
Will waited until they’d disappeared and then stepped out from behind the dumpster and walked stealthily behind them. It was risky, but as long as he was quiet, it wasn’t likely they would turn and retrace their steps. More likely was the chance that another patrol was close behind the first. Tonight, for whatever reason, Vince wanted the building secure.
The investigation was on the verge of a breakthrough. The last thing Will needed was to be discovered and forced to answer awkward questions about why he was loitering at the back of the building. The search for a gate in the back fence would have to wait, along with his search for the cellar.
Making it safely back onto the street and knowing he’d been away longer than anyone would expect his supposed errand to take, he quickly formulated an excuse. Pulling out the cell phone that had been in his pants pocket all along, he dialed Savannah’s number just as he came within earshot of the bouncers. He couldn’t help the genuine smile that tugged at his lips when she answered.
“Hi, babe. How are you? I’m at the Club. I’ll be home in an hour or two.”
She reassured him she was fine. When she added that she missed him, he wanted nothing more than to head over to her condominium and leave Maranoa and the investigation far behind him.
Instead, he told her he loved her and ended the call. The bouncer grinned and opened the front door for him, a knowing glint in his eye.
“Got to keep the missus happy,” Will quipped. He dropped
the phone back into his pocket and made his way inside.
* * *
Savannah ended the call, relieved that she’d had the foresight to turn her phone to vibrate before she’d left home. She strained to make out the uneven path ahead of her. It was almost ten o’clock. Will was already inside. He thought she was home, packing boxes.
A shard of guilt sliced through her. She hated to deceive him, but he hadn’t given her a choice. She simply had to know if her brother was involved. And if so, she had to help him get out of this scrape before he totally ruined his life.
Deep down, she knew it had been Dylan she’d seen and heard during her previous visit. What was more, she had a sinking feeling he was the man Malee and Angel had referred to as “Billy.”
Despite her earlier confidence, she didn’t really have a plan on how to get into the brothel if the back door was locked, other than to once again prevail upon the stupidity of the security guards and hope like hell they weren’t the same two she’d spoken to during her last attempt.
Fear at the possibility she might come face to face with Maranoa again threatened to choke her. Will said Maranoa wanted to have sex with her. He was a dangerous criminal, a murderer—or at the very least, a man who condoned it. Her discovery at the brothel could result in consequences too awful to contemplate, but she could hardly walk away without knowing the truth. If Dylan was involved with Maranoa, she had to get him away from the place and talk sense into him, before he was discovered by the police. There would be no leniency from the judge this time around.
She thought about Will and bit her lip. He’d be furious when he discovered she was here—and rightly so. The dangers were indisputable and he’d made it clear he didn’t want her anywhere near the place.
The sound of the back door opening interrupted her thoughts. A security guard strode through the doorway and down the steps. She stifled a gasp of alarm and plastered herself against the wall, silently cursing the light that spilled across the concrete, reaching out for her.
The man walked across the backyard and disappeared into the shadows. A moment later, she heard him sigh and seconds after that, the unmistakable sound of him urinating.
