Chapter Eleven
Carver couldn’t focus on the rest of the day, knowing Yasmin was out in the city with limited protection. Jake left him regular updates, but he wanted to see her, touch her, hold her close to him. Calm the fuck down, he reminded himself. Only a day had passed. She might need several days, weeks, months even. Did he even possess the patience to wait that long?
He drummed his fingers on the conference table. Sal and the others must have known he wasn’t in the best of moods because he didn’t say much as they talked about their upcoming shipments.
“We’ve gathered enough information on Holcomb,” Sal began.
That interested him. Carver sat up in his chair straight and looked at his second-in-command expectantly. Sal continued. “Holcomb worked alone, had no known allies, only the hotel security he bribed. After he left our organization, he owed people plenty of money.”
“So, the bastard just wanted to kill me out of desperation? You sure he’s not working for someone else?”
“Positive. I personally asked around, and no other family or organization took him in. We also found cocaine in his apartment.”
“Using or selling?”
“User, our guy at the morgue sent us photos of the needle marks on his arms.”
Carver stretched out his legs, relieved Holcomb’s assassination attempt hadn’t been complicated or part of some bigger plan. Then again, he knew from personal experience that those pushed to the edge of desperation were more dangerous than sane men. Holcomb’s bloodshot eyes last night had showed him the fucker had been serious about taking his life, without caring other people got injured in the process.
“I see, then case closed. Meeting’s over,” he announced.
Everyone else in the room left, save for Sal. Carver stood up and walked to the bulletproof floor-to-ceilings windows. and peered at the view of the city. Years ago, he’d set up shop in this building situated in the city’s financial district for a reason. In the public’s eye, he owned and ran couple of legitimate business while conducting his real money earners on the side. Carver didn’t need to. He could have relied on shipping weapons the entire time, but maybe part of him knew someday, he wanted to move from the illegal to the legal.
“Everything good with your woman?” Sal asked, appearing by his shoulder.
“Working on it. She wanted time alone. I have Jake and few guys following her.” Carver irritably tugged at his tie. Once it came undone, he jerked it out.
“She going to be a runner?”
He cracked his knuckles and counted to ten silently in his head to prevent himself from knocking Sal’s teeth out. One, Sal was one of the few people he trusted, who got him and wouldn’t stab him in the back. Two, he wanted those in his inner circle to like each other.
“No, she’s going to be a permanent part of my life,” he said with confidence. “My plans haven’t changed. Last night shook her up, that’s all.”
“I hope so. It’s not easy, being the kingpin’s future bride.”
“Bride.” He grinned. Carver supposed that was Sal’s way of apologizing, of doubting his woman was going to stick around. “I like the fucking sound of that. Someday, you’ll understand.”
Sal snorted. “Me? Nah. That relationship shit looks complicated.”
“Well, you say that now, but fate has a way of kicking you in the balls when you least expect it,” Carver said, remembering that rainy day a decade ago and Yasmin looking at his beat-up form on the ground with concern in her eyes. Fuck, he missed her and they’d only been a few hours apart. “I’ll head home early today. Anything comes up, ring me.”
“Will do, boss.”
****
An unexpected surprised waited for Carver back home. He frowned at the grin Jake flashed him.
“Something funny?” he asked, not in the mood for games. Carver planned on getting hammered, maybe distract himself with work and finally look at the numbers Benny sent him for the upcoming months’ shipments. Might as well do something productive, because he knew he’d keep thinking about her.
“She’s back,” was all Jake said, opening the front door for him.
An unnamed emotion leapt in his chest, making his heart beat a little faster. Hope. Relief. Strange how a man comfortable with spilling blood could be reduced to a nervous teenager. She had that effect on him. Darkness greeted him. Carver slipped out of his shoes and turned on the lights. No Yasmin, but he noticed the opened bedroom door. An invitation perhaps?
He entered the room and stopped in his tracks by the doorway. She waited for him, reclining on the center of the bed with nothing on, except matching black-lace underwear that barely concealed anything. Her breasts nearly spilled out of the sheer fabric, and it would be easy, ripping those straps around her waist so he could have access to her pussy.
A rumble of approval tore out of his chest. She blushed, and he remembered that in the beginning, she’s always been self-conscious, not entirely comfortable with her own body. He savored taking the time reminding her to him she was a goddess, fucking perfect.
“Hi, I didn’t know what time you’d be back,” she said, sitting up and rubbing at her arms. “I started getting cold. I’ve never worn anything so—um, this kind of thing for a man. Oh crap. Did that spoil the mood?”
Carver smirked and went to the side of the bed, sat down, and pulled her towards him. She spilled into his lap, a look of uncertainty on her face, but when he slipped one possessive hand up her left thigh, a small smile played on her lips.
“I can warm you right up, although I can promise you that these,” Carver began, tracing the underside of one bra before trailing his fingers lower, down the curve of her belly to the hem of her sexy underwear. She shivered. He continued, “Wouldn’t stay on you long.”
Carver’s dick thickened, straining against the zipper of his jeans as he closed one hand over the back of her neck and kissed her, enjoying the familiar taste of her. Yasmin planted her hands over his chest and kissed him back with a passion that rivaled his own. Carver reeled in the urge to rip that fragile black piece of cloth covering her cunt and sink his dick inside her, remind her who she belonged to.
Conversation came first. Sex didn’t solve everything, and while he was new at this, he wanted to learn, to grow with the woman he planned on spending the rest of his life with.
“You visited a cemetery,” he stated.
She groaned. “You want to start with that?”
He closed one hand over her waist, pulled her close, and pressed a kiss to her pulse. “Talk to me, angel.”
She shifted on his lap. “I did. I visited my mother. I hadn’t done that in ages. I guess I was just scared.”
“Scared, you?” he asked with a laugh. “You’re the exact opposite of that.”
The smile she wore seemed to light up her entire face. She circled her arms around his shoulders and sighed. “Before she passed away, she made me promise to look after my dad. I screwed that job up.”
“It’s not your responsibility to look after a drunk, a gambler who gives two fucks about you. You did your best, angel. Your mom would be proud.”
“I get that now, that only my father can help himself. I kept pushing him to go to his AA meetings, to see a therapist, but he’d always just use the money to buy more booze or skip out on those expensive sessions. You really think so? My mom—”
“Yes,” he answered, tightening his embrace when she laid her head against his chest. “Any mother would be fucking glad to have you as a daughter, but, angel, don’t you think it’s about time you focus on your own happiness?”
She bit her lower lip. “When I was there at her grave, I remembered she used to tell me one thing. When you find that one special person in the entire world, you don’t let go. If she were alive, she’d tell me to stick with my man, for better or worse.”
“Sounds like a marriage proposal to me,” he drawled, unable to keep the cockiness in his voice.
“Maybe,” she blurted. “Maybe it is.”
Pleasure filled him at her words, but it seemed she wasn’t done.
“Last night scared the hell out of me,” she admitted. “Not because I could’ve died but because I could have lost you, and that scares me more than anything else.”
“I want you to know that situations like these might happen, but I can take care of myself and I trust my men to have my back.”
“Carver, what’s our future going to be like?”
Fuck, but Carver never imagined someone showing so much concern for him. He didn’t like seeing her hurting. He’d always known Yasmin was too good for him, but he could spend the rest of his life making her happy. Whatever she wanted, he’d give it to her, even if meant slowly abandoning the only way of life he knew. With time, he could do it. For her, he’d do anything.