“Position your leg alongside my thighs,” Marc gently commanded. Bailey again didn’t hesitate as he straddled his legs left and right. Marc held Bailey’s waist and gently urged him to go up and down, up and down. It took a while before Bailey had the perfect rhythm, but then both men moved in unison. “You do that really well, baby,” Marc praised, he was panting hard now because he was so close, but he didn’t want to come, not yet. Marc wanted to enjoy Bailey for as long as possible.
When Bailey began to lose his rhythm, Marc pushed Bailey on his back, and then he flipped them to have Bailey underneath him. “Do you trust me?” Marc croaked. Bailey frowned, but then he nodded. “I trust you, Marc,” he whispered. “Just let me know if you don’t like what I’m doing, okay? I just need.” “Do it,” Bailey urged, and Marc did.
Marc grabbed Bailey’s hips and began to push into Bailey’s body, his thrusts were more forceful now, and Bailey was nearly going insane with ecstasy. “Wow, this feels so good,” Bailey panted as he grabbed Marc’s hair and pulled him down roughly for a heated kiss. Their lips found each other, and Bailey was nibbling, biting, and sucking Marc’s delicious full lips and tongue.
“So eager,” Marc remarked. “I want you so much. I love you, Marc. I love you,” panted Bailey, while Marc pushed in even deeper. Bailey, it seemed, was in ecstasy, and that was precisely how Marc wanted it to be. They were kissing, and Marc couldn’t help himself as he started pounding into Bailey using a lot of force. “Yes, oh yes. I’m coming; I can’t hold off any longer,” Bailey suddenly cried out, and the next second creamy, hot seed flowed between their bodies.
Bailey was curiously eyeing his ejaculation as the seed flow slowly got less and less. The sight was so erotic that Marc didn’t have a choice; he, too, was unable to hold on much longer. “Baby, I’m coming; I’m going to fill you with my juice. You’re mine, now you’re really truly mine,” Marc growled as Bailey felt the hot sperm fill his ass.
They lay for a while, on their back’s, side by side, panting, both catching their breaths. Suddenly Bailey turned his head. Marc did the same, and their eyes locked. Bailey smiled. “That was, well, amazing,” he finally said.
“I didn’t hurt you, or anything, because you would have told me, right?” Marc had to be sure that Bailey had enjoyed himself just as much as he had. “It was heaven; it felt special,” Bailey smiled.
Chapter Twenty Nine
“Is everything alright, baby?” Marc asked when he saw Bailey stare out the window. The man hadn’t said much during breakfast, and Marc was worried that Bailey regretted their lovemaking the previous night. Bailey looked up, and Marc saw the uncertainty in the man’s beautiful big green eyes. “I’m just nervous about meeting Mario Delossantos for the first time. I mean, not really the first time.”
“I know what you mean, baby, and know that no harm will come to you. You’re safe as long as I’m with you. Only Mario gets into our home; his bodyguards will stay outside where Lucas will keep an eye on them,” Marc assured. And by that, Bailey knew that Lucas had pointed a riffle on the two bodyguards. If they would so much as dance out of tune, Lucas would pull the trigger.
The doorbell chimed, and Marc went to open the front door. Mario greeted Marc with a smile, and Marc noticed that it was a genuine one. Marc blocked the entrance, preventing Mario from entering. Mario frowned, then he said, “Just talk to me, assassin.” Marc was surprised, but he managed to keep his expression neutral. “You’re good; I must give you that. And now you’re thinking, how much does he know? Well, Marcus Blake, let’s say that I know a lot, but not everything,” Mario informed him.
Marc knew that Mario held back on him, and he didn’t like it, but there was nothing he could do about that for now. “Shall we? I want to see my son,” Mario said, and he sounded friendly enough. Marc nodded and led the way into the living room, where Bailey was waiting.
Mario froze when he saw Bailey standing in the living room. The men stared at each other; it was Mario who broke the silence. “Hello, Bailey. How are you?” Mario spoke in a soft, gentle tone. “I’m not sure how I should feel. Are you here to kill me?” Bailey’s voice was firm and steady, much to Marc’s joy.
“No, Bailey, I’m not here to kill you. You are my flesh and blood. I came here to meet you, talk to you, get to know you,” Mario said, looking expectantly at his son. Marc was curious about how Bailey would react when meeting Mario Delossantos, his father.
Mario raised one perfect eyebrow. “I guess that you have questions for me,” he said. Bailey nodded because the man was right; he had questions for him, many questions. “I’m curious as to why you want to meet me. Why now? Why not three years ago?” “Would you have believed me, three years ago, after you handed me over to the police?” Mario replied. Marc eyed Mario sharply, and he noticed that the man didn’t look nor sounded angry.
Bailey considered his father, then he said, “No, probably not.” “You must know by now why your mother left me and why she only got to take you and Brendan with her,” Mario’s expression softened. It was evident that he still mourned Emily.
Bailey frowned. “And why is that?” he questioned. Bailey knew because he had read his mother’s diary, but Mario didn’t need to know that. “I assume that, by now, you at least read a part of your mother’s diary,” Mario said matter-of-factly.
Bailey’s eyes grew wide. “How do you know about my mother’s diary?” “Because I was the one who sent it to you,” Mario said in a calm voice. “You did?” “Sit down, baby,” Marc gently pushed Bailey in the love seat and sat down beside him. “Concentrate on your breathing,” Marc gently urged when he noticed that Bailey’s breathing was too fast. He didn’t want him to hyperventilate.
Mario didn’t say anything; instead, he was watching Marc’s interaction with Bailey. Mario couldn’t hear what Marc was saying to Bailey, but whatever it was, it worked because Bailey’s breathing slowed to normal again. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to upset you, my son. I assumed that you knew that it was me who had sent you the diary,” Mario sounded apologetic.
Bailey glared at Mario, had the man called him, son, just now? He didn’t like that because, to Bailey, Mario was a stranger. Byron came into the living room carrying a tray with hot beverages and cinnamon rolls. He introduced himself to Mario, handed Bailey his tea, and then he sat down.
“I brought your men outside coffee and rolls, too,” Byron informed the mafia boss. Mario looked surprised and thanked Byron for his thoughtfulness. Then, Mario focussed on Bailey again. “I loved your mother very much. I could have forced her to stay, but I didn’t. However, I did force her to leave Robert and Fabian behind, and believe me when I tell you that I regret that decision to this day,” Mario said in a soft voice.
“Yeah, well, it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” Bailey said, and he sounded bitter. Mario pressed his lips together; it is evident that he hadn’t expected this reaction from Bailey. To be honest, Marc hadn’t either. Bailey was a reasonable man, always listened before he came to a conclusion. Now it seemed that he wasn’t planning on making this easy on Mario, and Marc couldn’t blame him.
Mario sighed deeply. “I can only apologize so often and hope for your forgiveness one day. One of the reason’s that I’m here today is that I know that someone is after you, and I came here to offer my protection.” The mob boss looked at Marc; he said, “They killed one of my sons, and I want them dead.”
That statement got Bailey’s attention. “So, it really wasn’t you who killed Brendan by placing a bomb under my car?” Bailey said. Mario frowned. “Of course not. You are my son; you are a Delossantos, whether you like it or not. No matter what you think of me, I would never go after my children.” Mario sounded upset. “I’m sorry, but l hope that you can see it from my point of view. I handed the cops the footage that should have landed you in jail. I didn’t know that you’re my father. So, it’s only logical that I assumed that you found me and wanted to kill me. By placing a bomb under my car, you hope
d that you achieved that goal, but instead, it was Brendan who got killed,” Bailey sobbed.
“I swear that I’m not after you, nor was I after Brendan. You both are my sons, for God’s sake!” Mario did his best not to yell his frustration. “How should I know? I didn’t know you, and I still don’t know you. Yes, I know that your name is Mario Delossantos and that you are the head of the mafia Delossantos family. You killed your brother-in-law and deprived my mother of her two other sons. Hell, one of them was my twin brother. That’s all I know!” Bailey yelled and sobbed.
“You need to calm down, baby. Your father is here to help and to talk to you. Can’t you cut him some slack? Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt? He is your father, like it or not, baby” Marc spoke in a soothing tone because Bailey was very upset.
It was in the afternoon when Bailey agreed to give his father a chance to explain himself for the things he had done. Bailey had so many unanswered questions. Marc had allowed the two bodyguards in the house as well, and Lucas was present too, as was Keith and, of course, Byron.
Keith had locked Vintage Treasures early because he knew that Mario was visiting Bailey. The former FBI agent wanted to meet the man for himself so that he could form his own opinion. Keith had heard a lot about the mob boss, so he was curious as well as interested in the man. Plus, he wanted to be at the house to protect Bailey if necessary.
“Keith Aldridge. We meet, finally,’ said Mario. Keith frowned. “I don’t understand. Do you know me? Because I certainly don’t know you,” he replied. Mario smiled when he said, “I was the one who hired you to protect my two sons.”
The silence in the room was deafening; one could hear a pin drop to the floor. Keith seemed flabbergasted, Byron looked skeptical, Marc eyed Mario intently, and Bailey opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say, so he closed it again.
“Did I hear that correctly? You are the one who hired me to protect Brendan and Bailey?” Keith sounded breathless like he had run the marathon. “Yes, I did because you were the best candidate for the job,” Mario said. “Well, I couldn’t protect Brendan,” Keith whispered. “That wasn’t your fault,” Bailey softly said.
Keith sighed; he knew that it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have prevented it, but that didn’t change the fact that he still felt guilty. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think that you could have prevented it from happening,” said Mario, and to Bailey and Keith’s astonishment, the man stood and lightly squeezed Keith’s shoulder.
“You lost me,” Bailey eyed Mario intently, “You hired Keith to protect Brendan and me? Why?” Mario leaned forward, folded his hands, and rested his elbows on his knees. He was searching for the right words; finally, he said, “There were rumors that someone had put a price on your head. And that someone still seems active, they want you dead at any cost. That’s why I hired Keith because he is one of the best.”
“Did that someone killed Fabian as well?” Bailey questioned. Before Mario could answer, Marc said, “Do you know who ordered the hit on Brendan and Bailey?” Mario shook his head. “No, if I knew, then that person would be six feet under,” The mob boss replied, and this time his tone let Marc know that the man was full of rage. Well, he could understand because someone had killed his son, and Mario wanted his revenge. That raised another question, and Marc knew that he had to talk to Mario about killing Fabian.
Chapter Thirty
“We need to talk,” Marc began; he knew that he didn’t have another option. Plus, the man knew about his activities as an assassin, but did he know that Marc had killed Fabian? It was almost midnight, and Bailey had gone to bed in Marc’s bedroom this time. Byron was in his study to do some more research, and Keith had said goodnight as well. It was just Marc, Lucas, and Mario because the mob boss had sent his two bodyguards back to the hotel. The two had been reluctant but had done as was commanded.
Mario eyed Marc intently; he said, “Then talk.” Marc nodded. “I want to know how you know of my activities? There’s only one person who knows my true identity, and Lucas wouldn’t betray me, ever,” Marc began. Lucas nodded. “That’s right; I would never betray Marc; it’s not who I am.” Marc believed him because he had no reason not to trust him. “I believe and therefore trust you with my life,” Marc replied. Lucas nodded, but Marc saw the anger in the man’s eyes. “Honor among assassins, I like that,” said Mario.
“Together, we will deal with the one who betrayed me,” Marc promised because not only had that person broken the code of honor among the assassins, but they had also implied that Lucas was the culprit.
Mario cleared his throat, and when he had Lucas and Marc’s attention, he said, “I can’t tell you, and not because I don’t want to, but I don’t know who it was that betrayed you. Two weeks ago, I received a large package, in it was the diary of my late wife, and information about, well, your activities.” Mario paused and eyed Marc intently.
“Think, Marc, think hard. Do you really haven’t any idea of who has sent me this crucial information about you?” Mario urged. An irritated Marc shook his head. “Honest to God, I have no idea.” Marc, Mario, and Lucas all turned to the living door when they heard someone gasping.
“Bailey, please, come back!” Marc called after his lover, but Bailey ran upstairs and into the guestroom he had occupied before moving into Marc’s bedroom just a few hours ago. Well, Mario had to wait because Bailey was much more important. Marc went after Bailey, and he hoped and prayed that the man wouldn’t leave the mansion. If Bailey wanted to go, then Marc wasn’t stopping him. He didn’t do kidnapping.
Bailey sat on the edge of the bed and was confused about what he had overheard. Was Marc really an assassin? Had he heard that correctly? And Lucas was a hitman too? So, many questions ran through Bailey’s head, and it made him dizzy.
“Bailey? Open the door, please?” Marc urged, but there was no reply. Marc tried for several minutes, but Bailey didn’t respond. Then a thought hit Marc, was Bailey still in his room? Marc hoped that Bailey hadn’t escaped through the window. The guestroom that Bailey had occupied had a balcony, so it should be easy for the man to escape.
“Bailey? If you are there, then open the door, I need to know if you’re still here,” Marc said, and he tried to keep the frustration out of his tone. Still, no answer. For a moment, Marc debated what to do. He didn’t exactly know how much Bailey had heard, but guessing by the man’s behavior, Marc would say that Bailey heard almost everything.
“I’m opening the door now, Bailey,” Marc said and tried to put the key into the lock. When the key didn’t go in all the way, Marc knew that Bailey not only had locked the door, but he had left the key in the lock as well. Marc had to admit that the man was clever, and although he liked that very much, no so at this moment.
“Bailey? I’m worried now. Open the door, please,” Marc said. The assassin waited for a moment, and just when he wanted to kick in the door, he heard movement. He heard the door being unlocked, and then Bailey’s pale face appeared. “Baby, please, let me explain.
“What’s there to explain? You are a hired killer, which means that you are murdering people for money; there’s nothing to explain about that,” Bailey said in a voice that was full of emotions. Marc heard the anger, the sorrow, and the pain in them. He shook his head and said, “There’s a lot to explain because, on the contrary of what you might think, I’m not a cold-blooded killer who murders people for money.”
Bailey had only slightly opened the door, and Marc could have forced his way in if he had wanted to, but he didn’t. Bailey had to let Marc voluntarily into his room. Marc knew that all too well. Bailey had been through so much in such a short amount of time; the man was fragile, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Marc knew that he had to tread carefully. Plus, their relationship was so fresh, and Marc didn’t know Bailey that well. And there was no way that he could predict how the man would react if he told him the truth about how he had earned his living.
Marc patiently waited until Bai
ley had decided if he wanted to give Marc the chance to explain himself. It seemed like forever when finally, Bailey opened the door and let Marc in. In front of the window stood a table and two chairs, Marc sat in one, and Bailey took the other. Bailey stared a Marc for a full minute, then he said in a soft yet firm tone, “Start explaining why you kill people for money.”
Marc sighed, this would get much harder than he had anticipated, but he didn’t want to lose Bailey because the man already had become very important to him. Marc opened his mouth, and then he closed it again. Bailey observed the man that he loved so much. Had he been so wrong? Had he fallen in love with a mass murderer? Did he owe it to the man to give him the chance to explain his actions? He hoped, against his better judgment, that he had heard it all wrong.
Assassins the Florist Book One Part One Page 17
