by Brynne Asher
“You need me?” I whisper, because even though we’ve only been together weeks, somehow I know.
“Abby.” He murmurs his first word. As always when he calls me by my real name, it touches me in a place that hasn’t seen light in an eternity. His eyes smolder, and whatever torment that’s living inside him, burns deep.
“Take what you need, Crew.”
His eyes flare and for the first time since we stepped inside the barrel room, they fall away from mine. They rake over my body, his other hand coming softly to my hip, whispering feather-light up my side, circling my nipple. He never looks away from his touch, giving me more goosebumps and heating me simultaneously.
His fingers between my legs start to move with intent and purpose. If standing naked in the barrel room wasn’t titillating, his fingers are. He twists my nipple hard enough for me to beg him not to quit.
But I know him by now. He’ll give me what he wants and I’ll never be left wanting.
“Crew,” I moan, closing my eyes. My body’s tingling from him and the cool, moist air combined.
All of a sudden I lose his touch. When I open my eyes, his t-shirt is coming off and lands with my dress on the concrete floor. He rips his jeans open and pulls out his beautiful, rock-hard cock.
Before I know it, I’m up and we’re turning. Wrapping myself around him, I hold him close. He’s warm and I press my hips in, rubbing my throbbing clit against his hard length. With his hands at my bottom, he lifts me before pulling me down with force. And there he is, filling me up.
I let out a whimper at the same time he groans into the side of my head.
Still without uttering a word, he lays me down on the table in the middle of the barrel room used for tastings. He doesn’t start moving like I want him to, he stands up straight scooting my ass to the edge where he remains planted deep. Putting my heels to the edge of the table where I’m spread wide, his hands start to move on me.
I try and press my hips in, to find purchase on his cock, but he gives my hip a squeeze in warning. The other hand goes between my legs, where he’s looking down his body to where we’re connected. When he starts working my clit, he barely slides in and out.
I’m not cold anymore. I’m warm, breathing hard and trying my best to move against him, but he’s holding me still.
When I start to lose control, I grab the edges of the table, hearing my moans and cries echo through the spacious room, bouncing off my barrels of wine.
His strong arm slides under me, around my lower back and up, where he cradles my head. His warm chest is tight against me when he starts to really move.
I don’t think he’s ever moved like this, not taking the time to work up to anything. I told him to take what he needed and he is. His arm around my waist is pulling me down as he slams into me. I’ve wrapped my legs around his waist to hold tight, and I need to.
He’s holding nothing back, his breathing and groans are all I hear—his face buried in the side of my hair.
Minutes later when he slams into me one last time, his whole body tenses around me. Together we’re warm, the cool temperature of the room not affecting us at all.
I slide a hand up from his powerful back, into his hair and pull lightly. Still coming down from his orgasm, he lifts his head to look at me.
“You okay?” I ask.
He closes his eyes and presses into me again. “I was pissed.”
I smirk. “I might have to piss you off more often.”
I still don’t know what’s wrong with him, but whatever it was must’ve faded because he smirks back and raises a brow. “Baby, if I were pissed at you, that would’ve gone differently.”
I doubt I fixed whatever was wrong before, but I am happy he’s not wearing his tormented face any longer and challenge, “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And how’s that?” I go on.
The hand around my waist pulls away and he smacks my ass, but not hard.
“Hey!” I yell and try to move, but he has me pinned.
“But it would’ve ended the same way. You would’ve liked it.” His smirk turns into a cocky smile.
I frown deeply and let my eyes go big. “I doubt it.”
I get another light smack. “I’ll show you sometime.”
“Crew, stop it.” I can’t help but smile from his change of demeanor.
His cocky smile turns into a devilish grin.
“What were you upset about?” I change the subject since he will not be spanking me.
He loses the smile as he closes his eyes, dropping his face into my hair. Taking a deep breath, he mutters into the side of my head, “Work.” Leaning up, he keeps talking. “You were right. I needed you.”
My face softens. “I’m sorry. You want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head. “I’m good now.”
I give him a squeeze. “I’m glad you needed me for a change. Do you have to go back?”
He shakes his head and kisses me softly. “I’m hungry and want a full night with you. Let’s get outta here, we didn’t even lock the door.”
But we didn’t think about the door or get out of there. He kissed me again, and then again, both deeply and then tenderly, before he finally let me up to get dressed.
Then, as I walked naked to our pile of clothes in my barrel room, I made a mental note to clean the tasting table tomorrow.
Chapter 20 – Messages
Marc Whittaker –
The lights finally flip on. I’ve knocked and rang the bell three times. A curtain moves at the sidelight before an alarm is disengaged and the deadbolt flipped.
When Sheldon opens the door of his Falls Church home, he growls angrily, “Why in the fuck are you on my doorstep in the middle of the night?”
I ignore him and barge in, forcing him to step aside in his robe.
“You alone?” I ask, waiting for him to shut the door.
It’s his turn to ignore me, and since he’s not whispering, I assume he’s alone.
My eyes track around the room before looking back at him questioningly. I point my finger downward, turn it in a circle and raise my brows in question, silently asking if it’s safe to speak.
Jerking his chin, he’s no less frustrated when he answers, “I did a sweep today, and you know I have cameras on the house.”
Wanting to get this done quickly and get out, I lay it out there. “It’s been over two weeks since you went to see her. They’ve been watching her close for months and are not happy her patterns have suddenly changed. She rarely leaves her property, and when she does, she’s not once been by herself.”
“Why do they want her by herself?” he demands, glaring at me.
Tipping my head, I shrug nonchalantly. I keep my cool, unlike Sheldon, who’s been wound tight and on edge since his demons from the past were dug up a couple months back. “Who said they want her by herself? I just noted that they noticed a change.”
“They don’t just notice shit like that,” he seethes.
“They’re suspicious.”
“They don’t need to be. She’s probably tied up in her business. I doubt her patterns have changed that much and they know she has the new boyfriend,” he says.
“They’ve changed enough,” I state.
“It’s a coincidence at best,” he throws back.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I offer before telling him the real reason for my visit. “They haven’t said it outright, but they’re becoming leery about you. I’m here to relay a message. You don’t need to worry about the upcoming delivery. I’ll be handling it. They wanted you to know they’ll reach out if they need you.”
His face tightens and I can see it in his eyes—realization with a splash of shock, and maybe, a bit of fear mixed in. He regroups quickly when determination takes over, his voice firm when he says, “I’ll speak with them tomorrow. We’ll see who makes the next delivery, Whittaker.”
I tip my head to him in invitation. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear from you.
Convince them who you’re loyal to, just like you did all those years ago when your friend, Wes, was suspicious. We all know the last straw was when he stumbled upon you stealing nuclear weapon designs. Even though you did your best to put him off, he was a threat that needed to be eliminated. Now you’re trying to protect his daughter—they’re not okay with that.”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” he growls. “Don’t come here again or beckon me—I don’t care what time of day it is. If they have a message, they can contact me directly. I earned their trust all these years. I don’t know what kind of shit you’re feeding them, but nothing’s changed.”
“They see it for themselves, Sheldon. I’m not feeding them anything. Watch yourself. Some might just think you’re losing your touch, coming to the end of your career.” With that, I turn to reach for the door. When I look back, he hasn’t moved from his spot. “See you at the Pentagon, Sheldon.”
Descending his steps in the dark of night, I quickly walk around the block to my car. I cross the street and walk one more block west. Assured I’m not being followed—I double back to my car. As I do, I pull my secure phone from my back pocket and hit call.
When it’s answered, I speak quietly. “He said he’ll be in touch, and like we thought, he was defensive.”
I listen for a directive, and exactly as I assumed, I’ll be making the next delivery. Sheldon O’Rourke has lost his position, even if the powers that be needed my help seeing it. They’ll be making plans soon for a changing of the guard. I can tell it’s coming—I just hope it’s soon. Then again, I might not know until after it happens.
Ending the call within seconds, I toss my phone on the passenger seat and head back to Arlington. I’ve got a big couple of days at work and need to get some sleep to be sharp. Creating access to something I’ve never had access to will need careful planning.
*****
Crew –
I got a text less than a minute ago from Rhonda—the first one I’ve gotten since the day I learned about Addison’s past. There’s no doubt I’d be right where I am now if that hadn’t happened, although it might’ve taken longer. In some demented way, I’m grateful for the catapult.
I grab the prepaid phone I keep with me and go to the hallway outside Addison’s room. I’m tense because I don’t like talking to Carson. I prefer Asa be his contact. I’m never happy to get these texts, but especially in the middle of the night, so I bite out his name when he answers. “Carson. What now?”
He doesn’t waste any time, either. “Whittaker visited O’Rourke minutes ago. They think the house is clean and spoke openly. Then Whittaker made a call to London after he left. This is good, we’re closing in on their European contacts. I wanted you to know we’re getting close, but until then, they’ve got eyes on your neighbor.”
Looking back through her bedroom door, my eyes trained to adjust to the dark, I see her sprawled on the far side of the bed. Her back is bare and the sheet’s barely covering her ass.
He keeps talking. “Sounds like they’ve been watching her for a while. They’ve noticed a change in pattern. She hasn’t been out by herself in a few weeks.”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Yeah. But good news, you’re just the boyfriend,” he says, and when he does, I swear he’s fucking smiling. “They aren’t looking into you, not that they would find anything, you’re practically invisible besides clicking away on a keyboard for years creating accounting programs.’”
I shake my head. I’m not worried about me—I can take care of myself. But this means they’ve been watchin’ her a while.
Not waiting for me to respond, he keeps going. “Just want you to know you should continue to keep your girlfriend on a short leash, your instincts were right. Then again, they usually are.”
“Is that it?” I’m frustrated with this and don’t like being on this call for any longer than needed.
“No. Looks like O’Rourke’s being cut out. I’m corresponding about this as we speak. We need to move before they eliminate anyone they no longer have a use for. I’m putting a closer tail on him starting tomorrow. We want him alive.”
Good. The faster this shit’s done, the better.
“You got more?” I go on.
“No. Hopefully we won’t talk again,” he reiterates my thoughts.
I look away from Addison and back to the large square hallway that’s open to the bottom floor with two bedrooms on the opposite side, but see nothing when I change the subject. “You offer a job to Grady, you’ll answer to me. Do not pull him back in.”
I get nothing.
Silence.
We have no business being on this line sitting in silence.
“Don’t make me have to step in, Carson. You know I will. Do not give him an assignment,” I threaten.
“You’re all independent contractors. You know I can’t speak to you about anyone else.” Carson’s voice is tight, controlled, all business.
“Cut him out,” I demand. “I don’t care what he wants.”
“Crew,” he starts before lowering his voice. “An offer’s being made tomorrow. They’ve got a job that fits his skillset. It’s already in the works.”
I close my eyes and drop my head. I cannot fucking believe this.
“Vega—” I hear, but before he has a chance to say anything else, I disconnect. Then quietly, like I learned how to move so long ago, I walk down the two flights of stairs in Addison’s huge-ass house without making a sound, to her garage where I left my tools. I need to decimate this fucking phone.
When I get back to bed, I lay next to Addison, a place I’ve become addicted to being over the last few weeks. There’s no denying it, I don’t want to be anywhere else but right here.
I don’t roll to her, I don’t let myself bury my face in her hair, touch her, giving myself what I want, what I’ve fucking earned.
I stare at her ceiling the rest of the night while she sleeps, wondering what the fuck I’m gonna do. Or if I can’t do anything, how to make sure Grady doesn’t step so close to the edge, that this time he doesn’t come back.
As I stare into the darkness for hours and contemplate, I’ve never been more pissed at my friend.
Chapter 21 – The Heavy
Crew –
Grady’s avoided me all day, and now that the guys are with the language instructor, he’s escaped to his barn. He didn’t need to work hard avoiding me since I’ve done the same to him. There’s no point in asking Asa to pull any strings, if I couldn’t put a stop to him going back, he can’t either.
If I can’t keep him from going, it makes me fucking sick to my stomach to think about what I might have to do. I can’t get it out of my head—it’s left a rock in my gut all day.
We’re heading into fall where the mornings and evenings are cooler, but some days the humidity can still be a bitch. It’s my first fall back in Virginia since I left the Secret Service. As much as I’ve come to like my property, it’s nothing compared to Addison’s. The views from her home and business have got to be the best in the region, and set against the rolling acres of her vines, it almost makes me like wine.
But what sets her property over the edge is all her.
My two-hundred and seventy-acre refuge I couldn’t wait to settle on has become nothing but a place of work for me. When I’m here, I want nothing but to be there, with Addison.
That’s where I’m headed because it’s poker night. It’s entertaining, to say the least, and her group of strange friends is starting to grow on me. I can tell they care about her, and they not only seem like good people, I know for a fact they are. I’ve run extensive backgrounds on every single one of them since she’s fixed them in her life, and damn it if she didn’t give each one of them new keys after I spent the time changing her locks to keep them out. She promised she told them to knock and only use the key if she wasn’t home. She was clearly happy she got her way, even if she tried to appease me while doing it.
A long time ago, I might’ve th
ought about my future, before my dad was killed. But since then, not once. I’ve never let my mind wander to what I’d want in life, let alone in a woman. If I had, I can’t say I’d ever wish to have one with a backbone like hers. On top of that, she’s strong, independent, and smart. Now that I have her, I wouldn’t want her any other way. Especially since she gives it all over to me when I want it.
In bed, her barrel room, my desk, and just this morning, her kitchen. The possibilities are endless.
Obsessed might be a strong word, but if this isn’t an obsession, it’s gotta be something more. I’ve barely come to terms with being obsessed, anything more is too much to comprehend right now. Whatever “normal” we’ve created—given both our fucked-up pasts—seems to work, so I’m going with it.
All that makes me pissed at Grady even more, because that rock in my gut is twisting and turning, causing a pain I’ve never experienced. I don’t have a choice—I’m being forced to take action no matter how much I don’t want to or how it’ll affect Addison.
Climbing out of my truck, I grab the six-pack of beer and head to her kitchen door. It’s late, I’m sure they’ve already started.
No one’s in the kitchen but I hear them living it up in the Ordinary. I know I should eat despite the turning in my stomach. Heaping a plate full of food, I head to the poker game.
When I clear the entrance to the Ordinary, Addison’s head is thrown back and she’s laughing along with the others. Well, everyone but Mary. She’s glaring at Addison with a look that could kill. Scowling, she has dark circles under her eyes, and her normally big hair is pulled back into a tie. I think I see what’s going on as Evan leans back in his chair and smirks at her. Stretching his arm around her, they’re sitting closer than normal as he starts to play with her hair.
“Would you mind lowering your voice when laughing at me?” Mary tries to shrug Evan off as she growls at Addison. “You’re not helping my headache.”
“Oops, I forgot about the hangover. Most people don’t get drunk on their first date.” Addison smirks at her friend before catching my eye.
