by W Winters
Sleep evades me. Day in and day out, exhaustion wears me down and begs for me to rest. Yet when I lay, my mind keeps me up, replaying every moment of my life that led to where my family is now. I can admit that after two years of taking on this business relatively on my own has made me paranoid. I’ve been screwed over by more people than I can trust. In fact, the only person other than my brothers who I trust implicitly is Seth. And I barely see any of them anymore.
So staring down at the results from the blood work, I don’t believe it.
Braelynn didn’t drug me. I simply fell asleep, in a strange place, without any protection whatsoever.
It’s as reckless as it is unbelievable.
Knock, knock, knock.
It’s a bit too early to be Braelynn, although perhaps she’s as eager to see me as I am her. Checking the cameras, I’m surprised by my disappointment that she didn’t come in early.
“Come in,” I call out as I click out of the results the doctor sent me, and over to the profile for Travis Marks.
The gray profile photo of a man with a smirk stares back at me. He’s a man who needs to die. What happened is his fault, I’m certain of it. His existence is problematic.
“Boss.” Nate greets me at the same time that Jase says, “We need to talk.”
The two of them beside one another is an intimidating sight. Nate’s scar on his chin adds to his severe and rugged countenance. My brother is taller but only by an inch or two, and Nate’s bulk more than makes up for it.
Marcus sent him to me two years ago as a part of our deal. His men. My rules. … so that he could escape. He didn’t tell me why he had to leave, only that something broken long ago needed to be fixed.
“You’re slipping,” Jase comments, a smirk on his lips as he drags the corner chair closer to my desk and Nate takes a seat.
A crease settles between my eyes. “How so?”
“Your door was unlocked last night. I walked right in and you weren’t here.” Jase appears proud of himself, but my dead stare has him thinking better of it.
“There’s no way in hell I left without locking it.”
My brother narrows his eyes, the severity of my response catching him off guard.
Nate’s cough interrupts the tension.
“That’s … it’s fine. It’s not why we came.”
My shoulders tense and I glance back to the computer, to the black and white photo of a man I wish was here so I could release this pressure building inside of me. Cracking my knuckles, I lean back in the chair and ask, “What’s going on?”
“You all right?” Jase asks as Nate states, “Someone else is with them.”
I glance at my brother, his expression questioning before focusing on Nate.
“Another informant?” Heat tingles at the back of my neck.
“No, someone … someone who also wants information.”
“What do you mean?”
Jase answers this time, “The cops are sending someone else information. Not us and not the feds.” He crosses an ankle over his knee. “Someone is lining their pockets and it isn’t us.”
Nate nods.
Fuck. The list of enemies grows every fucking day.
“We have a meeting with Carter tomorrow to work out the possibilities. Anyone who seems off.”
“We need the footage,” Nate requests.
“I’ve already gone through the tapes of every man who’s been with Scarlet in the past two years.”
“And?”
“She has her preferences but they’re all still cooperative.”
Jase seems to consider what it could mean. Is she meeting with men who she wants information on, or is one of them the man she’s giving the information to?
There are too many questions and not enough answers.
Nodding, I tell them, “I’ll bring the list tomorrow.”
Jase’s hands tap down in unison on the armrests. “All right then.”
Both Nate and he stand, adjusting their ties and buttoning their navy and dark gray suit jackets, respectively. Where Nate couldn’t possibly pass as a gentleman or someone born into wealth, Jase could fool the world with his charming smile. I wasn’t gifted with that perceived glamour. Slipping his hands into his pockets, Jase questions again, more casually although it’s anything but. He can’t hide the concern in his eyes. “Everything else okay?”
“Fine,” I answer.
“Where were you last night?” He shifts uncomfortably.
“Worried about me?” I smirk at him with my joking response.
His downturned expression makes me regret it. “I’m still your big brother.” As he cracks a grin, Nate and I chuckle. “You should come home for dinner Saturday … or Sunday.”
“I’m sure I can make it.”
“Good.” Jase gives an easy smile as he turns to leave and I reciprocate it.
“Hey Nate, stay for a moment.” Jase looks between us and gestures a goodbye before leaving. When the door’s closed, I ask Nate, “What happened to Braelynn’s ex-husband?
“I’m not sure, Boss … What happened to him?”
“I believe he got intoxicated and tripped on the train tracks.”
“That sounds tragic,” he comments. And the dark look we share speaks volumes.
“It is.” I murmur, “Such a senseless way to die.”
“And when did that happen?” He gives me an expectant look.
“I would have liked tonight, but let’s stick with his habits. He often goes out Thursday evenings.”
“Understood.” With his response, I exit out of the photo, and rid myself of the problem once and for all.
“Is that all, Boss?”
“Yes. Thank you, Nate.”
Just as he prepares to leave, there’s a knock at the office door.
Checking the cameras, my pulse races and a heat gathers along my skin. A different heat, the kind I crave. My little pet is early after all.
“When you leave, keep the door open for her, will you?”
Nate’s smile is knowing. “Of course.”
I don’t miss Braelynn’s wide eyes of surprise as Nate opens the door. “Braelynn,” he greets her and she flushes. “Have a good night.” He keeps his distance, professional but friendly. His gaze moves to mine with an easy nod before the door closes, leaving her alone with me.
Her movements are nervous as she tucks a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear.
“You look beautiful tonight,” I tell her, my voice softer and deeper than anticipated. Coated in the sinful thoughts that filter into my mind.
Of me fisting her perfectly curled hair, of me smearing that lipstick with a brutal kiss. Of me ripping that loose lace blouse off of her, lifting her skirt up and fucking her against the wall. We haven’t made use of most of the surfaces in here. I aim to change that as quickly as possible. I want memories of her everywhere I look.
“Thank you,” she whispers and questions, “should I—”
“I know I left in a bit of a rush last night,” I interrupt her and push my chair out, patting my lap. “Come here.”
She’s quick to come to me, removing her heels to settle down in my lap. Her deep brown eyes never leave mine like they’re searching for something.
With both hands braced on my shoulders, she faces me with an expectantly look. My right hand settles on her hip, my left brushes her hair back from her face and I stare down at those bloodred lips of hers.
“I have problems sleeping, so when I woke up it was …” I lift my gaze to hers to complete the thought, “… alarming.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“You’re apologizing because I fell asleep and then scared the shit out of you?” I shake my head at her. She’s sweet and innocent. She has compassion and empathy where I do not. The last thing I want to do is tarnish it. I want to keep her like this for as long as I can.
“I’m sorry you were alarmed.”
“It’s not your fault. I think you know by now, I ha
ve issues. I’m not a good man, but I’ll do what I can to be good to you.”
My admission rewards me with a shy flush from my good sweet girl.
“You’re better now?”
Leaning back, I move my hand under her, readjusting and pulling my cock out.
“I will be shortly.”
As she tries to maneuver herself to remove her undergarment, I reach up, smirking when I feel the lace. My thumb easily pushes through them, shredding them and rewarding me with a gasp from my sweet girl.
Leaning forward, I silence it with a kiss, stealing the air from her and massaging her tongue with mine. With my hands up her skirt, my fingers move to her hot center and toy with her, rubbing her clit, slipping my fingers through her slit and then back up until she moans in my mouth.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders and I revel in how greedy her touch is.
With my lips still against hers, I murmur, “Already wet for me.”
“I want you,” she whispers back with a sincerity and need I didn’t realize I was desperate for.
In one swift move I position her how I need and impale her on my cock.
She falls forward, moaning my name and clinging to me as I wrap one hand around her shoulder, my arm bracing her back and holding her steady while I fuck her.
Her moans are drawn out and her warm breath travels down my back as she bites down on the curve of my neck in an attempt to silence herself.
A cold sweat breaks out along my skin and I relish in it. Nothing else matters as I murmur into her ear that I need her more than I need anything or anyone.
Her nails dig into my skin as she holds on. She’s close. I know she is as she tightens around my cock, writhing in my arms.
As she calls out my name, her neck arching and her release taking over, I devour her lips with mine and that’s what does it. Capturing her kiss, I come undone with her.
Braelynn
The mall is busy and humming with people as Scarlet and I stroll through the wide, tiled hallway. I’ve always loved the mall. The crowds, the food court, the shops and sales. It’s full of life. This particular mall is one of my favorites. It has high ceilings and a second floor with endless stores to shop and get lost in.
“We’re here,” Scarlet says with a grin. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I take another sip of my latte and smile back at her over the cup. “Hell yes I am.”
We enter an excessively large home goods store, one of my favorite places to shop, and both of us grab carts from a row near the door. We wander through each aisle, picking up items and putting them back down. More than a few go into my cart. A new set of dish towels. A pretty shower curtain. It’s freeing to be able to put my own touches on my place. I can decorate however I want and it wasn’t until this moment that the realization hits me. I’ve never had a place of my own. I’ve never truly been on my own.
“What do you think of this?” I ask Scarlet, holding up a welcome mat.
“Oh my God, ‘Take off your shoes and bring in the booze?’ It’s cute,” she says. “It’s so you. Get it.”
I toss it into the cart with a smile that won’t quit. It comes with another new feeling too. Declan pays me so well that I don’t have to calculate the cost down to the penny and hunt for a coupon. I still have a coupon, though. I wouldn’t come to this store without one.
I might be saving up, but I would rather be frugal and save where I can.
We turn onto the bedding aisle and I let out a cheerful sigh.
“I’m so happy for you, Braelynn,” Scarlet says. I told her about the fitted sheet. We’re actually here on that mission, although the two hours we spent wandering while chatting and my already half-full cart would say otherwise, and it feels damn good. The aisle is exactly how I pictured it would be. Sheets in all colors and materials.
I let my fingers trail down the row of them as I search for the perfect sheets.
“I think I’m going to get a whole set.” The fitted sheet was a small dream. I imagined just one piece of cloth. Enough to make my bed comfortable and not much more. With the check deposited, and a cushion already in savings, I have plenty to get a full set.
We start to wander slowly down the aisle, and I see one and then another that I like. One’s an abstract peony in soft muted colors, the other an off-white with a texture to it. “I want to look at them all before I decide,” I tell Scarlet, although it’s more me to myself so I don’t grab every single one that strikes my fancy.
“Do you work today?” she asks.
“Yes,” I murmur, running a sample of a flannel set between my fingers. It’s very soft, and it would probably be too hot for my place. Flannel sheets aren’t necessarily year-round sheets. More of a winter item. A bit expensive, I think to myself … but then I remember. I can have any set of sheets I want.
“You working every day now?” Scarlet hands me another set to look at. I take my time with it. My shift isn’t until this evening, every night at six, so there’s absolutely no rush. I nod to her, and she smiles. “He must really like you.”
“It’s intense,” I find myself admitting. It doesn’t seem like a good thing or a bad thing to say, just a neutral description of how Declan is. “He’s intense.”
“I think everybody at The Club would agree with you,” Scarlet murmurs. “All the Cross brothers are like that. They’re all broody, my way or no way … is he like, all gruff all the time?”
A bit of nervousness creeps into my thoughts. “I know he’s trying with me.” I think of him coming into my apartment with takeout and insisting on talking. It had to be hard for him.
Men like Declan don’t have the chance to grow up talking about emotions and apologizing, hell a lot of people don’t live with that simple comfort. I know I’m one of the luckier ones only because of my mother. But men like Declan? Hell no. They grow up focusing on survival above everything else. Simply living to see the next day. I know it wasn’t easy for him to sit with me and say he was sorry for how things had gone … and then do it again the next day. “It takes a lot for a man like him, but he’s working at it.”
“So you two are really involved, then?”
I don’t answer her. Mostly because I’m not exactly sure and I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to be given an answer that pops the bubble of content that I’m in. We look through several more sets of sheets. I’m excited to choose one, but at the same time … I’m wondering something else. I’m wondering where Declan sleeps. I wonder what his bedroom is like, and whether he likes sheets in a dark hue or a light one. If he likes a comforter that’s big and fluffy or heavy. These are the simple things about a person that are impossible to know unless you actually go to his house and sleep in his bed.
I know there’s a sofa by the bookshelves that pulls out in his office, right near the full bath and I know he’s stayed in his office more than once. But that’s not his home. I have no idea what his home looks like.
“You not going to answer?”
“What?” I peek up and Scarlet’s fists are on her hip, pushing in the baggy cream sweater she wears. Even with it not being formfitting, she looks small under the sweater. With black leggings she appears casual and laid back, unlike her raised brow.
“I asked if you guys were really involved,” she questions with a knowing smirk.
“Yeah … we’re … involved more than just sex, I think.”
“Like he could take you home one day and show you off at a family dinner?”
My stomach flutters at the thought of that. “Does it scare you?” Scarlet questions when I don’t answer.
I remain silent. I don’t want to talk about the things that scare me. I run my fingertips over a set of sheets with a high thread count and then I look at the price tag. My eyes go wide. I’ve never spent that much money on sheets.
“What’s going on, Braelynn? If you won’t tell me, let me see your phone.”
“There’s nothing on it.” We reach the end of the aisle and tur
n around. There’s a whole other side to choose from. The sheets on this side are pricey at this end and will get cheaper as we go back down. Pink? No, maybe not, though it is a gorgeous pale color. It’s quite girly and I’m not sure I want my first place to look … childish. And it could absolutely come off childish if I go with pink. So the sheets go back and I keep looking. I don’t want anything satin. I would feel like I was about to slide off the bed.
“No dick pics?”
I choke on a sip of my latte and have to pat my chest to get the coughing to stop. I can’t imagine what kind of pictures Declan would send to me … or take of me. The things we do together don’t lend themselves to cute selfies that you share with your friends. Scarlet laughs at me. “Okay, no pics. Let me see the messages, then. How is he texting you?”
I unlock my phone, find his name in the list of messages, and hand it over to her. My heart races. This is something I’m used to doing with girlfriends. We all hand around our phones and analyze the texts that men send to us. But this feels different. It’s Declan, and Scarlet works for him too. “It’s simple,” I tell her, as if in apology. I’m not really apologizing. He’s not a man who goes on and on in texts.
“Love is in the details,” she says, shaking her hair back away from her face. “You keep looking at the sheets and let me look at these.”
I try to go back to shopping, but I can’t stop stealing glances at her and gauging her expression. I want to know if she sees something that I missed in the messages Declan has sent me.
The way I feel for him obscures a lot. It’s confirmation bias, we see what we want to see. I’m sure I do. There’s a constant lurking fear of his world and all the darkness that lies there, but as soon as I see his name on the screen, heat overwhelms me. I want him to text me so much that I could have missed red flags. Scarlet scrolls and scrolls, not giving away anything although at one point she narrows her eyes. I lift another set of sheets off the shelves and close my eyes. I try to imagine slipping into bed between them, but instead something else pops into my head. Declan, his arms crossed over his chest and a half grin on his face, looking down at these sheets. On my bed. Maybe he would turn back the covers and run his hand over them too. What did you buy these for, little pet? he would ask.
