Marcus had pushed his self-control to the limit giving Mary an orgasm. His balls were on fire, and he had an erection that would win prizes. Of course, he had to admit he could do it again in a heartbeat, just the same way. Her sweet little cunt tasted better than anything. He could feast on it for hours, bringing her to the brink, backing off, then pushing her up again, all the while reveling in the taste of her exquisite juices and the smooth feel of her inner walls. And she was so damn responsive. For the first time in a long while, this wasn’t just about him getting his rocks off. This was a woman who woke all his long-dormant senses, who, just by being herself, pushed him to do more, give more.
Holy fuck. This was not what he’d expected, although he’d been fighting his growing attraction to her every night he sat in the pub. He hoped when the time came, he could walk away because she had her own life and his was…not much. No room for attachments or relationships. Maybe for a day or two, but not for the long haul. He just didn’t have it in him to give any more.
But that was for another day. He’d better shut off his brain or his shaft would go to sleep.
He looked at Mary, lying spread out on the quilt like a delicious feast, the pink lips of her pussy still glistening from her juices, so damn tempting he could come just from looking at her.
“Cup your breasts,” he told her.
Very slowly, she lifted her hands until her breasts rested in her palms. He had the distinct feeling none of the men she’d ever been with had pushed her the way he did. She was a delectable combination of hunger and uncertainty. She was watching him intently, waiting for whatever came next.
“Pinch your nipples. Hard. I want to see that nice dark rosy color they get.”
Without ever taking her eyes from him, she did as he asked.
Damn! He’d better get to business here, or his cock would take off without him. Reaching into his jeans. he pulled out a condom. He’d taken it out of his wallet that morning so it would be handier. Dropping it beside her, he knelt between her thighs and leaned forward, closing his lips around one of her nipples, sucking it in. He bit down on it gently then let it slide from his mouth. He was about to take the other one when Mary pushed herself up to her elbows and reached out with one hand to wrap her fingers around his cock.
Sweet Jesus!
He ground his teeth against the sweet torture as she slowly slid them up and down. God! He wanted her mouth on him, her tongue licking him from root to tip, but that would have to wait. He’d reached his limit. Reluctantly, he moved her hand away.
“Another time, sugar. Right now, I have to be inside you or the top of my head might come off.”
She gave a thready little laugh. “I’ll hold you to that.”
His fingers shook slightly as he unwrapped the condom and rolled it on. Again, he placed her legs on his shoulders, giving him maximum access to her, and nudged her opening with the head of his shaft. Little by little, he eased his way inside her. He was so swollen, and she was so unexpectedly tight, even after he’d brought her to orgasm with his mouth.
When he was fully seated, her inner muscles gripping him, he closed his eyes and inhaled, taking a moment to gather himself. He had to make this good for her, no matter how much control it took. And then he began to move, slowly at first then faster, her wet channel easing the passage of his cock. Back and forth, in and out, gradually picking up speed, watching her and taking his cues from her.
When she locked her ankles behind his neck and pulled him into her harder, he let go of all restraint. He pounded into her, harder and harder, and she met him stroke for stroke. The moment he felt her inner muscles flutter around him, he let go of his control and took them both over the edge. His entire body shuddered as he throbbed inside her tight pussy, her muscles clenching and milking him.
He had no idea how long it went on until at last he collapsed forward. Mary unwound her legs and he held her against him. He wasn’t sure if the intense heartbeat he heard was his or hers, and, at the moment, he didn’t much care. When he could breathe somewhat normally, he brushed a kiss over her lips and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. He studied her eyes, trying to read what she was thinking. Then he let out a long, slow breath.
“That was…” He searched for a word.
“Amazing,” she finished. “That’s the only word for it.”
“Yes. You’re right.”
He eased himself carefully from her body and grabbed a couple of the paper napkins to help him dispose of the condom. Then he rolled to his side and pulled her against him, wondering if his heart rate would ever slowdown to normal again or if he’d be able to draw a full breath. He tried to think of what to say to her, but words didn’t seem adequate to describe what had just happened.
“Mary,” he began, “I—”
“Ssh.” She touched his lips with the tips of her fingers. “Don’t say a word. It’s perfect just the way it is. How about eating our picnic, now? I think we can both use a little nourishment.”
He searched for any hidden meanings in her words or in her expression, but he found none. She was smiling, and, for the moment, that was enough for him. He’d worry about anything else later. Like the fact she might be passing messages from an illegal arms dealer to gangs and cartels.
“The picnic sounds good. Hope it didn’t get too warm.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. But I think we should put our clothes on first. I can’t believe we did this out here in the open.”
“It’s very private,” he assured her. “But clothes are a good idea, or I might need to do this all over again, and I don’t think we have time.”
He worried that things between them might be uncomfortable now. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. But, unexpectedly, she set the tone, light and casual. They talked about everything and nothing while they ate. He worried she’d pepper him with questions about his past and his life, but apparently she didn’t want to divulge any details of hers, either. Which made him both happy and uneasy, worried she might be hiding something, the very thing he was after.
He just pushed it out of his mind and enjoyed the light conversation while they ate. But as they finished the brownies he’d bought for dessert, he thought he’d test the waters. He was folding the quilt and kind of tossed the question over his shoulder.
“So how long you planning to stick around in Baltimore?”
“I’m not sure. I guess until I’m ready to leave.”
“You must have a job to get back to and a home waiting for you.”
“Quit the job,” she told him, “and leased out the home. I like what I’m doing, so I’ll stay until I know it’s time for me to leave.”
Well, that didn’t answer anything for him.
“What about you?” She handed him the bag with their trash in it. “Don’t you have something waiting for you?”
Or somebody.
He heard the unspoken question.
“No. It’s just me. And I’m here until it’s time for me to leave.”
And that was the damn truth.
He handed her jacket to her. “Time to hit the road.”
She studied his face as if searching for some kind of answer. He wished he had one for her.
“Thanks for today,” she said at last.
He cupped her chin. “No thanks necessary. The pleasure was all mine.” And then, because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut, he added, “I want to do this again.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
“Well, all right, then.” He touched her lips, a brief kiss. “Meanwhile, I think we need to hit the road.”
On the ride back, with her lithe body snugged up against his, her arms around him, and her hands pressed against his abs, he kept remembering her naked, caught in the height of passion at the moment she came, and he knew he was in big trouble.
As they turned onto the block where the duplex was, he spotted a truck in Mitchell’s driveway, a big black dual cab with jacked-up wheels. Against his stomach, Mary’s hands tightened into fists.
Marcus pulled into her driveway and turned off the bike, waiting for her to hop off. But she just sat there for a moment, hanging onto him.
“What is it?” he asked. “You don’t like your landlord’s truck?” When she didn’t answer, he half turned on the seat. “What is it?”
She finally dismounted, but she stood there staring at the vehicle.
“That’s not his,” she finally said.
Every nerve in Marcus’s body went on alert as possibilities slammed into him. Did it belong to a gang member? A cartel member? If Mitchell was home, where was his car? If he wasn’t, what were these guys, whoever they were, doing inside? Was she worried because she didn’t know who they were, or because she did?
“Okay.” He made his voice as neutral as possible. “Whose is it?”
“I don’t know. They came by one night just as I was getting home, and—”
“At one in the morning?” he interrupted. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. They wanted to know where Carl was.” She shrugged. “I told them I had no idea.”
“And they just left?” He was trying to listen for nuances in her voice, to determine if she was telling a story to throw suspicion away from herself or if she really hadn’t a clue what was going on.
“They wanted to leave a message for him to call Bruno, but I told them I never see him. They should leave it on the door.”
“And?”
“And the guy—I guess it was Bruno—said they had no paper with them. I ran in the house, wrote the note, raced out to tape it to the door, and ran back inside. They drove away just as I got back inside my place.”
She was either really freaked or one of the coolest customers he’d met in a long time. So the question now was what were these guys doing here in the middle of the day?
“Go inside,” he told her. “Lock the door and wait for me.”
She bit her lip. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. Just take a look and see if anything seems off.”
“But wouldn’t they have Carl’s permission to be here?” she asked.
“Not if Carl’s dead.”
She lost every bit of color in her face. “Marcus, I don’t think—”
“Go inside and lock the door. Go on. I’ll be right there.”
She gave him another long look then let herself inside. He waited until he heard the click of the lock before walking around her side of the duplex to the back. He opened the little gate into the yard and looked across to the other side. Two men who could only be gang members of some kind, wearing colors and sporting neck tattoos, were just walking back toward the far side of the duplex.
Marcus turned quickly and hurried back to the front, getting to his motorcycle just as they came around to the truck. He pretended to fiddle with the saddlebags while watching them from beneath lowered eyelids. One of them climbed into the passenger side of the truck, but the other one stopped and stared at him.
“Hey!” he called. “You know the chick who lives in that side of the duplex?”
“Since I’m in her driveway, I’d say that’s a yes.” Marcus put as much menace into his voice as he could. “Why?”
“We need her to give Mitchell a message.”
“I don’t think she’s in the message business. Anyway, we’re leaving.”
“Maybe she can leave a note like she did the other time.”
Marcus shook his head. “She won’t have time. We’re leaving right away.”
The man stared at him then shrugged. “Okay, well, if she sees him, tell him to call Bruno.”
Then he climbed into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine so it roared like a beast, backed out of the driveway, and took off. Marcus watched them until they reached the end of the street and turned off to the next one before he went inside. Mary wasn’t anywhere downstairs, so he climbed to the second floor where he heard the shower running.
He was leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom when she came out, one towel wrapped around her head, one around her body. She stopped short when she saw him.
“Is everything okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because your face looks like a thundercloud.”
She began taking lingerie out of a dresser drawer. Marcus had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from touching the delicate items. Or worse, from touching her.
“Were those the guys who came around that night? The ones next door just now?”
“Marcus.” She stood holding a hot pink bra and something too insubstantial to cover any part of her body. “I only saw the truck today, not them. Are they gone?”
“Yeah. They wanted you to tell your landlord to contact Bruno.”
“Same thing they said that night.” She walked back into the bathroom, dropped her towel, and began smoothing lotion into her skin.
Marcus gritted his teeth and sent stern messages to his cock. “I told them we don’t deliver messages. I want to know if they bother you again.”
Or if you have something to do with them I should know about.
“Okay. Fine. You can program your number into my cell.” She looked up and grinned. “How fast could you get here?”
“Faster than you think.” He paused. “Even better if I was staying here.”
The smile left her face, and she studied him for a long time.
“Marcus, what’s happening here?”
He shrugged. “Damned if I know. I’m just sure I don’t want you alone in case they come around again.”
“We’ll discuss it. Now, I have to get ready for work.”
“Then you’d better put some damn clothes on, or you’ll be a lot later than you want.”
He left her staring at him, openmouthed, and clumped down the stairs.
He really needed to get his shit together. The last thing he needed was some kind of emotional connection to her. He didn’t do that with anyone, certainly not with a possible suspect.
Fuck!
He was standing in her living room, waiting and watching out the window in case the truck returned, when his phone rang. He looked at the readout. Grey.
“Yeah?”
“Hello to you, too,” Grey said. “What’s got a burr up your butt?”
“Nothing. It’s…nothing. What’s up?”
“We got word via the snitch that a new shipment is on the way, but the gang is having a hard time connecting with Mitchell. He sent them word it was coming, but they haven’t been able to get the details from him.”
Marcus scratched his head. “I wonder if that’s why those two scumbags were hanging around the duplex looking for him.”
“What two scumbags?” Grey was instantly alert.
Marcus explained about the truck in the driveway and the two men scoping out the duplex.
“They didn’t ask for Mary?”
“No. Just asked if she could pass along a message for them. Tell him to call Bruno.”
Grey was silent for a moment. “You think that’s some kind of code?”
“Can’t say. It could mean where the hell’s the shipment, or it could be nothing more than a straight message.” He sighed. “I’ll tell you, Grey. More and more I’m thinking she’s not involved.”
“If you were anyone else,” Grey said, “I’ll say I hope you’re not thinking with your dick. But that’s not who you are.”
I wasn’t before. If you only knew what’s happened.
“I’ve watched her until my eyes could fall out,” he protested, “and I haven’t seen anything that even smacks of her passing info. Plus, she always works the bar, and mostly the people who sit there are longtime patrons. Besides, Pat Collins, the patriarch himself, holds court at the bar every night, and he’d spot anything out of whack.”
“I’m not ready to write her off yet,” Grey told him. “The snitch is positive a shipment’s due and somehow that info has to be exchanged. Keep your eyes glued to her.”
“Will do.” But he was going to watch a few other things, too. Other possibilities for the exchange of information.
He had just disconnected the call and shoved the cell back in his pocket when Mary came down the stairs, hair pulled into a ponytail, wearing black jeans and a Pat’s Irish Pub T-shirt. He had noticed that even at work she wore a minimum of makeup, which he thought was good. She didn’t need any.
She grabbed her purse and pulled the strap across her body. “Ready?”
“Your carriage awaits. Don’t forget your jacket.”
“Do you really think you’re going to dump me on the road?” she teased. “After today, I trust your driving anywhere.”
“Jacket,” he insisted, and stood there until she pulled it on.
Outside, he waited while she locked the door before helping her with her helmet. When he pulled out of the driveway, he cruised the block slowly, looking to see if that tricked-out black truck was lurking anywhere, but there was no sign of it. Still, he stayed alert on the ride to the pub, even as the feel of Mary’s hands pressed against his abdomen threatened to distract him from business.
After he took her to work, before he got her tire fixed, he’d do as much scouting around the duplex as he could. Tonight, he told himself, he’d pay attention to other things. It was a Friday night, so the pub would be crowded, and he had some ideas of other ways the information could be passed along. Tonight, he’d pay attention to them.