“Atta girl.”
As soon as the orgasm begins waning, I pull my fingers from her, flip her over so I can see her next one for myself, and shove them back inside her. My cock is a like a rock, but she won’t accept me inside her until getting her answers. And really, the selfish part of me that wants her tochoose meprefers that.
For now…her back arches off the bed and her eyes clamp shut, her body accepting the immediate force of what I again am offering. But through her panting, through her desire, her eyes peel open and lock me into place with a spell.
“It wasn’t—not ’cause you’re in jail. That wasn’t…Cade, it’s okay.”
Acceptance.What a strange notion.
I drop to my knees for her, exactly how she did for me. The only woman I’ll ever be on my knees for. The only woman I’ll love, honour, and cherish—and whatever the rest of those marriage vows are. The only woman I’d take a bullet for or return to jail to keep safe.
It’s been so long since tasting anything genuinely sweet. Even artificial sugar was difficult to come by. The chocolates she oncebrought me may have been it. Something I rectify immediately as my tongue skates up her pussy, tangling with her clit while my fingers continue moving inside her.
She releases a garble of noises that don’t make much sense. But I understand them to mean,I’m yours.Maybe I’m delusional, though.
“You taste so fucking good,” I groan into her thigh. Certainly nothing to go without again.
My tongue flicks her clit while my fingers thrust, enticing her closer to the edge. Her feet reposition on my shoulders, and isn’t that just a perfect little position as she careens off the edge while I’m there to catch her.
As her pussy slows its contractions, my hand slides from her, and then I get to my feet. Her eyes are a mixture of sky blue and sapphire, heavy with lust and heady as the most potent drug. I want to fuck her so badly, but I instead kneel between her thighs and press my mouth to hers.
“You can’t fake that desire. You did so good for me.”
Right on time, she fists my collar and pushes me away. “A deal’s a deal. I came—twice. Time for you to tell me who you really are.”
FOURTEEN
ASPEN
Cade stares downat me with a million stories running through his eyes. Whether he tells me the truth or not will be what’s important.
He slides off the bed but tucks the blanket over me. I’m half-dressed, bare from the waist down, and the space between my thighs is wetter than I’ve ever gotten.
“The flowers were left on orders from a man named Victor. He runs the Vendettas—a street gang. He did so because his brother, Gunnar, is in prison, and I’m behind his captivity. They’re seeking vengeance, but when you visited me last year, Gunnar must have clocked you as potentially important. By your second visit, I inadvertently made it so, and he got word to his brother.” His jaw ticks. “I’d say I’m sorry for it, but it was inevitable. The flowers were a threat to you, and the threat on you was a warning to me.”
My stomach drops. “Wait…a gang?” When he nods, everything else comes crashing down. “Will they hurt me?”
Death flashes through his eyes, right to his fists. A shade he’s never directed at me before. “I’m the target, but I’m not countingit out, which is why Bones has been hanging around. And he’ll continue to do so until I find Victor, who’s wisely hiding, and put this to rest.”
Bones. Okay. That’s another answer.
None of this leaves me satisfied, how I assumed I’d feel when learning the truth. I figured it might help process today—this morning—but it doesn’t. Instead, the idea of ever leaving this room terrifies me. Visiting a prison inmate once involved stepping beyond the boundaries, buta gang?
“They’re targeting you because you helped put him in jail too?”
He steps back, which I appreciate. The fists don’t unfold, though, nor does the rest of him. He’s all hard lines and sharp edges, a bite as cold as frost when he replies, “That…and because I’m the head of the Fangs. Another gang.”
Oh my god.
I’d always known there was more to Cade. A person doesn’t end up in prison if they’re boring. But a gang isn’t what I envisioned. I barely understand what it means, having my entire experience taken from movies and TV. Crime, I imagine, though. He’s a criminal, and who knows what he’s done.
Towhomhe’s done it to.
“For a while, we were both battling for dominion on the streets. A long time ago, street wars between us and them were frequent. Eleven years ago, they conceded all territory to us after being forced out of the area, ending the war when the Corsettis, a family of mobsters based out of Montreal, stepped in. With their own rise in control, they were organizing all criminal groups they could track down. At that point, we were technically at odds with them, dealing on territory they claimed. They gave us an ultimatum: either we ceased operations immediately and disbanded, they’d send the cops our way and the law could shut us down, or we worked for them. We deal their shit exclusivelyand do whatever orders filter down to us—local jobs essentially—and hand over forty percent of profits. Otherwise, they leave us alone to run the area how we see fit. It’s a win-win. I took the deal for my crew—Victor didn’t.”
Mobsters. Criminals. Drugs.Everything gets filed under little mental categories as I process what it means, and how I’m positioned beneath him, a place without power.
“What I didn’t know is how vindictive the Vendettas can be. When they left the area, Victor had someone watching us, who somehow learned about the bank I was planning to rob. It would have been a payday of a lifetime, but when Victor somehow figured it out, he called the cops. By the time I was in place, they were on their way. Just as I heard the sirens, Gunnar stepped out from behind a car. Moron was filming my downfall for his brother, so when the cops landed on scene, I grabbed him. We’re both marked with symbols they’ve been tracking for years.” He flashes his wrist, revealing the F tattoo etched there. “They drew their own conclusions—that he’d been doing the job alongside me. I’d been lucky, it being the first offence they caught me on, and the fact I was barely inside the bank when they arrived. They tried me for ten years for attempted robbery with a firearm, but Gunnar got fifteen. He came strapped with two weapons, and his assumed role in the robbery broke the parole he was apparently out on for prior convictions. That’s it, Aspen. That’s all of me. Who and what I am, why I was in prison, and what happened today.”
