Explicit Memory E-Book

Scarlett Finn

• Herausgeber: Moriona Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

"There’s no place for that here."
 
The past wants payback.
 
Coming face to face with the situation that brought Flick to her love in the first place, she learns more about the man who owns her heart.
 
When threats encroach, Flick vows to do whatever’s necessary to achieve her goal. Will that mean sacrificing their relationship?
 
Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.
 

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2014, 2022 Scarlett Finn

Published by Moriona Press 2022

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

First published in 2022

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. It may not be used to train AI software or for the creation of AI works.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.scarlettfinn.com

THE EXPLICIT SERIES

Explicit Instruction

Explicit Detail

Explicit Memory

Read them in order for maximized reading pleasure.

For other titles from Scarlett Finn, please read on after the story.

Click here if you’d like to leave a message for Scarlett.

Enjoy!

CONTENTS

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-NINE

FORTY

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-TWO

FORTY-THREE

FORTY-FOUR

FORTY-FIVE

FORTY-SIX

FORTY-SEVEN

FORTY-EIGHT

FORTY-NINE

FIFTY

FIFTY-ONE

FIFTY-TWO

FIFTY-THREE

FIFTY-FOUR

FIFTY-FIVE

FIFTY-SIX

FIFTY-SEVEN

EPILOGUE

ONE

“Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Flick answered her brother-in-law’s brother, her attention over his shoulder.

Coming back to her parents’ house, the Hughes’ family home, hadn’t been on her list of top ten burning desires. But her sister had reached out to include her. After being estranged from her family for over a year, snubbing the invitation wouldn’t have been right.

The Hughes family was old money and well established in society. Her mother, Beverly, loved to boast about the house, it was her pride and joy. Everything she wanted. An extravagant display of wealth and taste; the envy of many other wives in their circle.

“You weren’t at the wedding, though, were you?”

What was this guy’s name? In her defense, she wasn’t sure they’d ever been formally introduced. “No.”

“Are you married?”

Dusk had long since gone but outdoor lighting kept the patio abuzz with all those gathered to celebrate the wedding anniversaries of both her sisters. The eldest, Lucia, was married on the twenty-second, and the middle daughter Vivian on the twenty-fourth of the same month in different years. They’d chosen the twenty-third for their joint anniversary celebration.

Groups of people stood around chatting politely, sipping expensive champagne, admiring the gardens that had been re-designed especially for this occasion. She was less interested in the grounds and more interested in the folding glass door at the back of the house. The party’s gateway between the internal and external.

“No,” Flick said.

“I’m divorced myself.”

“I’m not in the market.”

The stuttering man with the receding hairline blanched. Her patience was wearing thin. It wasn’t his fault, she was preoccupied with the door for a reason and her impatient anticipation was reaching critical mass.

“Flick?”

Turning in the direction of her name, she saw Robert Morse, the man her father, her whole family, wanted her to marry.

“Hi,” she said.

Her brother in-law’s brother walked away, but this encounter with Robert didn’t offer any reprieve from the safety of the benign conversation she’d shared with the retreating man.

Robert’s suave demeanor remained the same. His perfectly coiffed brown hair and baby blue eyes were as she remembered. Hurting him hadn’t been fun, he wasn’t a bad guy. But knowing herself as she did now, it was clear that had been exactly the problem.

“Look at this,” Lucia said, rushing in at her side. “You two reunited.”

If it wouldn’t be considered impolite, she would’ve rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen many people tonight I haven’t seen in a year and a half.”

Since she left.

“Are you nostalgic?” Lucia asked.

Her tension level rose as Robert maintained eye contact. Was this about to get interesting or had her recent experiences set her on edge?

“Problem?” This new male voice came from the rear.

Relief was instant. She’d only taken her eyes off the doorway for a few seconds, but it wouldn’t have mattered. His arm lolled over her shoulder to rest along her clavicle, meaning his angle of approach was from behind. He hadn’t come from through the house. Of course not. She should’ve known better than to expect a conventional entrance from her lover.

“I don’t know if you ever met,” she said, knowing they hadn’t. “This is my sister Lucia, and Robert, who has only said one word to me tonight.”

“One word too many.”

Rushe was Rushe. No airs or graces. Certainly no feigned civility. He didn’t acknowledge either of the beautiful people before them any further. While he pressured her to walk backward, she smiled in farewell and let Rushe take her in the direction of the walled rose garden. Bringing her body around his, her love urged her back against the tree at the garden entrance.

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah,” he said, retrieving a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.

She took it from him and eagerly opened it to read the promised new birth certificate. “Jones?” she read and let her disappointment shine. “I get a new identity, and this is the name you give me? Why don’t I get your name?”

“Because, Kitten,” he said, removing the sheet of paper to tuck it away again. “There are folks out there who don’t like me. I don’t want anyone who looks for me to find you.”

“Maybe you could rescue me this time,” she said. “You know, for once.”

She teased because he let her. Also because the more she pushed, the further his brow came down, so the darker his eyes became. He growled at her and she sighed, letting her hands sink into his pockets now that she’d achieved her aim of riling him a little.

“Couldn’t you have gone with something slightly more exotic?”

“Don’t want you exotic,” he said. “Want you plain, boring, and very difficult to trace. Your family, and their money, make you a target.”

“Technically, so do you because there are people out to get you. Our job does too, we don’t always make many friends.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But you’re not gonna give up me or the job. I can only limit your vulnerability where you let me.”

Getting over her sulk, the more pressing discussion remained pending. “Did you see him?” she asked.

“I went to the hospital and copied some notes, but he’s still out of it. I didn’t go near his room. We don’t know who’s watching.”

“And Serendipity?”

Rushe shook his head. “She’s not there.”

“We have to find her,” she said. “Jansen was there for me when I needed him. He freed you. I would never have been able to—”

“You wouldn’t have been there in the first place if it wasn’t for him,” Rushe said.

“No, actually, you wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for him. Which means I would’ve walked into Dell’s—”

“Yeah, Kitten.”

She knew her point hit home by his snarl of discontent.

“You were never going to leave Serendipity out there alone.”

“She might be dead.”

“You’re preparing me,” she said.

Rushe could emotionally detach from everything, except her. Over the course of their relationship, she’d tried to follow his example, but she hadn’t managed it yet.

“Someone put Jansen in the hospital, and they’ve abducted his woman, Serendipity,” Rushe said. “We were just as complicit in fucking up their operation as them. You better be prepared because we’re next.”

“If they put you in the hospital and kidnap me—”

“They’re not gonna pull the same play twice, or if they were they’d have tried it by now,” Rushe said. “They want something else from us.”

The night never felt oppressive when Rushe was around, nothing did. He held the world away from her, at least the evil in it, and if he felt it pushing back all his senses went on hyper alert.

“What should we do now?” she asked on a sigh.

The act of bringing her wrists toward each other made her hands, which were still in his pockets, press to his member. It also squeezed her upper arms on either side of her breasts. Rushe’s attention slinked down to her cleavage, so she ensured to push forward and enhance his view as best she could.

“Move,” he said, grabbing her shoulder.

He tried to pull her forward, but she didn’t budge.

“You want to have sex in my parents’ garden?”

“I don’t give a fuck where.”

They had been separated for more than a day. At lunchtime yesterday, he’d dropped her off at the rear security-gated entrance of the Hughes home. His own destination had been the hospital where Jansen was laid up in critical condition. Right now it had to be closing in on midnight. The idea of a love-in sounded about perfect to her after the stresses of the day.

“My bedroom is upstairs,” she said.

Rushe slipped her hand from his jeans and linked their fingers to pull her toward the house. Unfortunately, they didn’t get that far because Lucia got in front of them. Rushe tried to avoid her but Charles Hughes, Flick’s father, approached from the other side, closing in on them in a pincer move. Although she didn’t expect Rushe to be happy about the interception, she was surprised he gave up so easily by coming to an abrupt halt.

When she collided with his back, she tried to skirt around him, but he got in her way, blocking her from something.

“Felicity, there’s someone you must meet,” her father said. “He just arrived back here a few minutes ago, and he’s eager to meet you.” Rushe gave her just enough space to show half of herself. Charles Hughes appeared outright disgusted by her love’s presence. “Who is this?”

“This is Flick’s boyfriend,” Lucia said. “I think.”

The glitter in Lucia’s eyes betrayed a fascination with this feral creature in their staid environment.

“Her what?”

“Who do you want me to meet, Father?” Flick asked.

If it were appropriate, she would personally introduce Rushe to every person there. She’d willingly fall to her knees in front of them all to prove their relationship too. But Rushe thought the fewer people who knew him, the better… and he wouldn’t share any of their intimacies with anyone.

“This is Antoine Mercier; he’s a client of Roger’s.”

She didn’t need to witness Rushe sizing up the dashing man who reeked of sophistication and arrogance, because she could sense the snarl.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Mercier,” she said, taking Rushe’s lead, not attempting to shake hands or make any physical contact.

“Call me Antoine,” he drawled, with an accent.

She frowned. “You’re European?”

“French,” he said.

Rushe remained static, not a single hair on his body moved, but she grew rigid. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Antoine was the same nationality as the family involved with the human traffickers. The same people who were no doubt responsible for recent events regarding Jansen and Serendipity. The lack of change in Antoine, despite her visible negative reaction, confirmed it.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Lucia said, taking Antoine’s arm. “His family has been here in the States for a decade, but he still has the accent.”

“Roger has been advising Antoine about some tech investment,” Charles said. “There’s a start-up company moving under the umbrella of a larger corporation. They have the prospect, I should say, there’s a window and Antoine has the money, but of course, he wants it to grow.”

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together,” Antoine said, covering Lucia’s hand with his while his eyes bored into her.

“Excuse me,” Charles said, and left the group.

“Lucia,” Flick said. “Will you show me the new water feature you had installed for tonight? I noticed it behind the buffet.”

“What about the—”

“Please,” Flick said, spreading a smile and reaching around Rushe toward her sister, without departing from the defense of her Rushe shield. “Let the men talk business.”

“Go on,” Antoine said.

TWO

Lucia took Flick’s hand, and she led her sister away. Rushe wanted to be alone with this new acquaintance, she could tell. Her love didn’t betray much in outward appearance, but she was getting better at reading, at anticipating, his maneuvers.

Lucia took her to the new garden feature but didn’t say much about it before her own inquisition began.

“He’s a brute,” her sister said.

“Who?” she asked, with her back to the wall she could observe the partygoers.

Her main focus was far removed from the masses, where Rushe and this new associate spoke.

“Your boyfriend,” Lucia said. “We didn’t realize when we sent you the invitation that you would bring a guest. What’s his name?”

“How well do you know Mercier?” she asked her sister, maintaining her fixation on Rushe.

Sometimes when there were new developments they had to act quickly. If Rushe needed her, then she wanted to be ready.

“Mercier?” Lucia scoffed. “His name is Antoine. Why would you address him by his last name?”

Habit. “Sorry, I forgot it,” she fibbed. “How long have you known him?”

“He’s been working with Roger for about a month. We were introduced two weeks ago when he began staying here.”

“Here?” she asked, losing the subject of her previous attention. “Why is he staying here?”

“He’s having his home built, and there was some sort of delay with construction. I don’t know the specifics.”

“And if he has all this money, why couldn’t he afford a hotel room?”

“That’s so impersonal, he’s European.”

“So?” she asked.

“They’re hospitable, aren’t they? Very family oriented. He was the one who encouraged Viv and me to get in touch with you. He thought this rift was ridiculous, you should be grateful to him. He places a great premium on family and couldn’t stay in a hotel all alone.”

She didn’t buy it for a second, and neither would Rushe. “So his family is staying here as well? Why didn’t I meet them last night?”

“His children live in France,” Lucia said, her attention floating across the crowd toward Antoine again. “But he and his wife are divorced.”

She didn’t like the way her sister sought out the men they’d left alone to talk. “I know you’re not looking at my boyfriend like that.”

“What? Oh, don’t be silly.”

Rushe might intrigue her sisters, but neither would be adventurous enough to attempt to tame the beast. To them, he was a wild cat in the zoo, beautiful to look at and admire but never to touch. Antoine, on the other hand, was the height of good breeding, definitely enough to turn the heads of societies darlings.

“You’re married,” she said.

“What has that got to do with anything?” Lucia snapped. “I admire the man, that’s all.”

“Just remember to admire him from afar,” Flick said. “Why didn’t I meet him last night?”

“He had business to deal with.”

“What business?”

“Now who’s interested,” Lucia said.

“Does my man look like the type to step out on?”

“Where did you find him?”

Few people would seek or discover love in the place that she had found it. “In the last place I ever would’ve looked,” she said.

“It’s not… serious, is it?”

“He’s died for me once, and he’d do it again,” she said. “Tell me everything you know about Antoine.”

“Why? What do you—?”

“You don’t think it’s odd that he showed up, and now he wants to live in your parents’ house?”

“Roger and I stay here all the time, Viv too,” Lucia said. “We all socialize and—”

“He’s not family,” she said. “Before a month ago, had any of you ever heard of Antoine Mercier?”

Lucia’s always sparkling eyes tapered. Before getting a response, Rushe and Antoine walked away from each other. She moved through the groups between them until they united. He immediately took her hand and hooked it into his back pocket.

“We’re leaving,” he said, leading her into the house and through the dining room.

“There’s a bedroom upstairs for us,” she said, struggling to keep up as they wound through the long hallways toward the exit. “He’s staying here. My family could be in danger.”

Rushe stopped in the entry lobby to spin on her. “Why do you say that?”

“He’s been working with Roger for a month,” she said. “He’s living in this house, and you know him. Who is he?”

“Exactly who you think he is.”

“The danger.”

“I don’t want you here,” Rushe said.

She slipped her hand deeper into his pocket. “Don’t let him see you riled, Lover. You know we have to be here to watch out for them. They have no idea who he really is, and if he gets control of them… We can’t risk their safety.”

“And what about yours?” he growled, thrusting her back against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. “You’re asking me to risk you.”

She recognized the darkness, the edge he teetered on so precariously. “We talked about this,” she whispered. “You have to let me be a part of your work, risks and all.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted on a hushed exhale.

“You’re capable of anything, Lover. I’ve known that since the night we met. As long as I’m with you I’m safe, Rushe.”

Footsteps preceded a new feminine tone. “Vivian, we won’t have…”

Rushe twisted toward her mother’s voice but kept his body on hers, her eternal defender. From how Beverly Hughes’ voice trailed away, she’d guess Rushe landed her with that nefarious glare. Her mother must have been calling back to her other daughter because at the moment she remained alone in the entryway.

“What is this?” Beverly asked her daughter, unable to tear her attention away from the alien creature in her lobby.

“We’re going to bed,” Flick said.

“We?” That did bring Beverly’s focus to her daughter. “You know this man?”

“No, we just met,” Flick sassed. “I’m a real slut now, ma.”

Beverly’s jaw fell on a croak of indignation, but Rushe crouched to nuzzle his face in her hair. The action was cover meant to misdirect attention from the hand he scooped up under her dress to fondle her ass.

The enjoyment she got out of shocking her family was inexplicable. Vivian came in at Beverly’s back, prepared to speak and see what her mother gawped at. She stopped when she witnessed the unexpected show.

Her smile spread. She didn’t know how Rushe read her so well; they’d never been in her family’s company together. Playing his role as the animal, he sucked her neck until she gasped at the sting. Her love drew his mouth higher, tracing his teeth along her jaw.

“He gets testy if I don’t service him at least five times a day.”

“Felicity!”

“This is the guy with the hands!” Vivian exclaimed. “You said he did it himself!”

“That’s right,” she said, stroking a hand up his arm and down his chest.

Taking hold of Rushe’s belt buckle, she sashayed away from the wall and led him toward the staircase.

“You’re going to do it in our parents’ house?” Vivian gaped like a teenager.

“A bunch of times,” Rushe grumbled, and flopped his arms around her.

“Felicity!” Beverly exclaimed.

“Good night!” she called out and took Rushe up to her bedroom. As soon as the door closed, granting them seclusion, she turned out of her love’s arms. “Why is Antoine Mercier here with my family? This is about Jansen, tell me what they did to him, how he looks.”

She couldn’t bear to think of Rushe in pain. The idea he could go through the same ordeal as Jansen disturbed her.

“I didn’t go in,” Rushe said.

“Will he wake up?”

“I don’t know.”

The suspense was unbearable. She was used to things happening quickly, or at least being able to take action. With Antoine there, and connected with this debacle, things had gotten serious not only for her and her love, but her family as well.

“What about Serendipity? Give me the details.”

“She was last seen at work eight days ago,” he said. “No one’s seen her since then.”

“Eight… after I got the email.”

“You think if we’d mobilized quicker—”

“Don’t get defensive,” she said, recognizing where his tone was heading. “I made a statement. I’m not blaming you for anything. We couldn’t have foreseen this. It took us nearly three days to verify the facts of what happened to Jansen.”

“We don’t know the facts,” Rushe said, shoving her further into the room and turning on the lights to look around.

The space was vast, but basically empty. The bed and the nightstands stood against the head wall with a large window behind it. Looking at it now, Flick was reminded of her prison in Victor’s mansion.

She and Rushe met after a sequence of events leading her into the clutches of gangsters led by a man called Victor. In the end, she discovered the chain of command actually went higher than him, presumably to the bankrolling Merciers. Victor’s job was to capture women for his superiors to sell. Their trade was human trafficking, and she’d almost been a victim herself.

Rushe had gotten involved with Victor after Victor and his gang learned Jansen was an undercover cop sent to spy on them. When the game was up, Victor snatched Jansen’s girlfriend in an effort to force the cop to do his bidding. It worked. Serendipity was that girlfriend. When Jansen had no luck in locating or saving her, he hired Rushe through a third party to do it for him.

When Victor got paranoid about Flick’s relationship with Rushe, and of Rushe’s identity, Victor imprisoned her lover. On her journey to be sold, Jansen intercepted the shipment and saved her. Together they freed her lover and his. Many lives were lost in that operation, including Victor’s. Only the four of them and one other person walked out of that building alive. The other person was Simone, who she assumed was a relation of Antoine. The French woman was responsible for supervising Victor and looking after the women meant to be sold.

“They have Serendipity?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting on the bed to unlace his boots. “Mercier just confirmed it.”

“So what now?”

Rushe sat up to stare her down. “Sex.”

THREE

“You had it made here, Kitten,” Rushe said, drying his hands on the towel then throwing it back into the bathroom an hour or two later.

She lay on the soft white linen of the bed brushing her fingers up and down the black leather of Rushe’s loose belt lying across her abdomen.

“Don’t start that. There’s enough money in the bank that we could have a house if we wanted it, but we don’t.”

Rushe’s money might not equal Hughes proportions, but he was no slouch and would always be able to provide for her. While working for various clients through the years, he’d done some very risky jobs for some very wealthy people. Those contracts paid very well.

Rushe joined her on the bed, laying himself out then picking her up to drape over him, tossing the belt aside in the process.

“I’ve got something you can wrap those fingers around.”

“What does Mercier want?” she asked, rolling onto her front so they were chest to chest. “Money?”

“Don’t worry about—”

“We’re a team,” she said. “Remember what happened the last time you shut me out? Does he want money? How much of it? Is it a ransom? Will he let Serendipity go if—”

“He doesn’t want money from us. The Merciers are only mid-level. They don’t have great funds, not like your folks here. They do okay, but they’re not as affluent as they’d like people to believe. But it’s not our money they want.”

“Victor was selling those women for him, wasn’t he?”

While working for Victor, Rushe’s mission was to locate and liberate Serendipity. But he’d also played a covert role in freeing the kidnapped women meant to be sold to the highest bidder.

“Mercier works for his uncle, Jerome, he has no kids of his own,” Rushe said. “Jerome is Simone’s uncle too.”

Simone had been at Victor’s side throughout the job, watching the gangster’s every move to report back to her family, the sponsors of the operation. The refined woman’s task might have been to supervise and chronicle, but she actually spent more of her time seducing Victor’s men.

Though Rushe was technically one of those men, Simone’s attempts to seduce him were never successful. Not that she boasted about that truth to anyone. It suited Rushe’s cause to let the other men in the posse believe he was as beguiled with her as they were.

“She’s out there? But I thought the police—”

“They had nothing on her,” Rushe said. “Nothing physical anyway. I don’t know what information Jansen fed back about her. She probably played the victim. I don’t know the details of the investigation. I’ll find them out, but it will take time. Other than the testimony of the freed women…”

“But Jansen’s a cop. He knew what was going on.”

“Jansen had his own mess.”

She pushed her hands to his chest, propping up her weight. “His superiors found out that Victor kidnapped Serendipity?”

“Yeah,” Rushe said. “Looks that way.”

Jansen’s original assignment had been to infiltrate the gang and gather information on the crook and his cohorts. But once Victor had control of the woman he loved, the cop was stuck and fed all sorts of inaccurate and false information to his superiors to ensure Serendipity’s safety. Rushe might have been called in to save the day, but after Flick got involved, she had been used against him just like Serendipity was against Jansen.

“What happened?” she asked.

Rushe grumbled. His hand landed on her crown, losing his fingers in her hair, he pushed her head down onto his chest.

“He was suspended,” Rushe said. “Pending investigation.”

“But that was months ago, what—”

She tried to lift her head, but he pressured it in place, keeping her pressed to him. She loved the warmth of his skin, the resistance of his muscles, and the pound of his heart that lived encased in the inky resonance of his deep, gravelly voice.

“He went rogue, got obsessed with getting the guys involved in Victor’s game, involved in endangering his woman. Jansen’s a fucking asshole.”

“Would you have done anything differently?” she asked. “They held her for months.” She turned her face toward him until her lips met skin. “He loves her, Rushe. I know how much you hate loving me. I know it makes you weak. Is that what they want?”

His hand froze, still knotted in her hair. “What?”

“They blame us for Victor’s death. They financed the operation, but you and Jansen… and me… we stopped it from getting off the ground. What’s more, we probably sent a whole team of cops to sniff around.”

“Jansen’s the cop, and I told you then that was his problem.”

The boom of his voice vibrated against her cheek. “Is that what they want, Lover? Do they want me? They’ve already taken Jansen’s girl.”

“Do you think I would hand you over?”

“No,” she said, insulted by the offense in his tone. “That’s what scares me, Rushe. I love you, and I’ve seen you go through enough for me.”

“I’ve endured nothing for you,” he said. “I’ve been taking shit all my life.”

“Without you, I have nothing.”

“Flick—”

“You have the job, you’re great at it. You have purpose.”

“I don’t like this talk,” he said.

“You know if it comes down to a choice… the smart money—”

“Enough!” Casting her body away from his, Rushe pinned her down, snatching her wrists in his fists. “What the fuck do you think you’re going to say? Why in the fuck would you—”

“Because we find ourselves in these life and death situations without ever having discussed a course of action. You’re the master of forethought, why wouldn’t you—”

“I know exactly what to do,” he said.

“Sacrifice yourself every time, is that your plan? I don’t need you to prove your love to me. I know you love me. I face that truth every day and it makes me happy. You’re the one who has a problem with it. If it’s your plan to get yourself hurt in order to validate your feelings, then your plan sucks!”

“You’re gonna learn, Kitten,” he said. “You’re gonna learn to do what you’re told. I get between you and danger, always.”

“What is it they want? What does Antoine want?”

“There’s a guy, Theo Silver. Everyone calls him Silver.”

“What about him?”

“He needs some work done,” Rushe said. “Mercier will be in touch with him. I have a debt to settle.”

“Who is Theo Silver? What does he want with my lover?”

Moving to his side, his hand coasted over her breast when his form drifted away. He grasped, massaging the flesh toward himself and away. The motion attracted a grumble, and his face delved into her hair.

“Don’t worry about that.” He pinched her nipple, and her calf drifted between his legs. “Your lover has his own wants.”

“No sex until we talk,” she whispered.

His lips slithered down her body until he kissed her nipple. Lapping it once, he pinched it again, rolling the peak between his fingertips.

“Your tits… you have incredible cans.”

Circling her again, he coated one breast then the other in long, lingering kisses.

“You’re making out with my breasts,” she said on a smile and combed her fingers through his hair. “We have to talk. This is important. But it’s been a long day and I’m tired. I’d forgotten how much energy it required to sit up straight all day and smirk at everyone.”

“Go to sleep,” he said, suckling one pebble then the other.

“If I go to sleep, I’ll wake up sore because you’ll still be feasting on me.”

“Your breasts are mine. I can do whatever the fuck I want with them.”

Bringing her leg higher, she elevated her thigh to his groin and began to undulate. Then, elevating her ass, she twisted to grind herself into him. He grunted and grabbed her hip to hold her down flat, so his mouth could continue its worship.

“I wanna play with your dick.”

Seizing her hand, he coiled her fingers around the length of him, but she released him to slap her hands onto his shoulders and push him onto his back. He let her throw a leg over him to mount his torso, because she kept her breasts on his face. He hummed out his pleasure and tested her with his teeth.

A joyous shriek leaped from her. “I can only sleep on top of you.”

“You stay right where you are, Kitten.”

He held her in place. “Rushe!”

“My girls.”

“Smothered to death,” she said, shimmying herself against him. He buried his face in her cleavage and rolled her to her back, parting her legs with his. “Talk, then sex.”

In typical Rushe grouch fashion, he exhaled and flopped onto his back. He tucked her under his arm, ensuring she stayed plastered to the height of him.

“Silver is a pimp,” he said, threading his fingers into her hair.

“And Mercier knows him?”

“By association.” His fingers trailed down her spine and back up, then down again. “Silver doesn’t hang out on street corners.”

“You know him?”

“He has a reputation,” Rushe said.

“Do you know Antoine?”

“I did research on Victor, and on the Mercier family. It’s how I know their finances aren’t that hot.”

“Antoine and Simone are cousins, and he’s here, so does that mean…?” Her first impression of Simone was that she was superior. Her opinion had only gone downhill from there. “Are we going to…? Will we see her?”

“I don’t know,” Rushe said. “If you want me to set you up—”

“We work together,” she said. “Antoine knew you, downstairs. You knew him too.”

“Mercier was at the meeting…”

“In Dell’s,” she said, in a moment of clarity.

“He worked as a liaison with Victor.”

“Why is he here? Why infiltrate my family?”

“Because you care about them,” Rushe said, drumming his fingers on the vertebrae above her ass in the groove of her back.

“I got that email ten days ago,” she said. “He’s been working with Roger for a month; he’s been staying here for two weeks. Antoine orchestrated this.”

FOUR

In a rage, she tried to shove up.

Rushe got hold of her and slammed her onto her back again. “You gonna run into his bedroom, Kitten?”

“He’s using my family as pawns. They should be made aware of—”

“What did Lucia say?”

“About what?” she asked.

“You got all that info; you didn’t say nothing about danger?”

“I tried to point out it was odd, but…”

“Their world isn’t like ours,” Rushe said.

Nudging her nose to his jaw, she kissed his stubble. Something as simple as acknowledging they came from the same world highlighted just how far they’d come as a couple.

She’d once been as naive as her sister. Declaring to her family that Mercier was a criminal would be met with indignation. The sad fact was, given she’d been estranged from her family for close to a year and a half, she could never claim to be a typical, or respected, member of the Hughes family. Most probably she’d be laughed out of the room if she made such a claim to them.

The idea of a criminal in their midst was so outlandish it would be impossible, as far as her father was concerned. He prided himself on being an excellent judge of character. A criminal, in their opinion, looked like Rushe. Though they wouldn’t be far wrong by many definitions.

“So what does he want?”

“Mercier wants to make us wait.”

“Does he know you?” she asked. “If he thinks he can make you sweat it out, he’s misjudged his opponent.”

“He didn’t know if I’d come here to your parents’ house with you,” Rushe said. “That’s my bet. They didn’t make plans for us because he can’t anticipate our actions yet.”

“So we wait… until he tells us… until he has a job for us.”

“Not us, me. They don’t know we work together.”

“I’m just your bitch,” she said. “Letting them continue to believe that could be useful for us further down the road.”

Rushe’s arms came around her, clamping her body to his. “Let me foresee the problems. Open your legs.”

She had said sex after talking. “What do you want to do to me?”

“My dirty ‘ho, you want me to spell it out?”

“I want you to talk to me,” she whispered. “Tell me about your dick.”

“You love my dick.”

“I do.”

“It’s gonna fill that pussy,” he said. Taking her hand, he slid it down between her legs. “You’re gonna get it all juiced up for me.”

Rushe had stretched her sexual boundaries until the elastic snapped from the pressure. Now, as she slid the length of her index finger up and down her clit, she was flooded with the power he gave her.

Shifting to the end of the bed, her love grabbed her knees and forced them wide; those bullet eyes of his fastened their sights on her center.

“Faster,” he ordered. “I wanna hear you moan, Kitten. Stroke my pussy. I want you ready. Your empty little cunt wants to be filled up with my fat cock… that hot little pussy gets so wet when I talk.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I want to glide in. You want my cock in there, you gotta make me want it.”

She increased her pace, recalling every time they’d had sex, and thinking about the solid mass of him widening her to fit him. About the times Rushe forged into her with such passion and fury. Those memories now made her hips rise into her own caress. Rushe’s growl proceeded her panting exhale.

“Rushe.”

“Not yet, Kitten. You’re gonna take me hard.”

Her eyes drifted closed when his hand ran down her shin to her foot. Cocking her leg he positioned her foot against his balls, pushing her toes up against his dick.

“I thought about you,” she whispered. “Last night, I was thinking about your cock.”

His hand slapped hers away from its task. At the moment she opened her eyes, his body braced above her. “You touched my pussy?”

“Rushe,” she exhaled, witnessing the raw anger in him.

“Did you?”

“Maybe.”

“You broke the rules,” he snarled, his lips remaining completely still.

Flipping to his back, he lay beside her and scooped his hand under her head. “Wrap your lips round my cock.” A tickling shimmer trickled up her waist to her ribcage. “You show me that you’re sorry, suck it.”

Using his strength, he got her face into his lap and as he pushed her downward, she immediately opened wide to accommodate him. The bold head of his dick reached deep. She inhaled to let him push further into the confines of her throat. Rushe released his pressure when she took him as far as she could, then he let her draw up and down.

“Eager little slut, you can’t wait to get my dick in your throat.”

Dipping down she took him in, then sucked him out. Kissing the emerging beads from the tip of him, she worked her hand up and down, her eyes drifted to his.

“Don’t want your hand, Kit,” he said, tugging her wrist to remove it. Taking a handful of her hair, he brought her face over his daunting organ. “You want it? You want to suck it?”

“Yes,” she said, and opened her mouth to take him.

He raised her head before she could reach him. “Say it.”

“I want to suck it.”

“What do you want to suck?” he asked. “Look at me.”

Rolling her eyes upward, she did as she was told. “Your dick. I want to suck your dick.”

“When you get my dick in your mouth, you’re gonna suck it like you mean it. Show me you’re sorry. No one touches my pussy without permission.”

“Sorry, sir,” she said.

On his huffing exhale, she knew she had him. Rushe released her head, letting her face fall against him. She tasted the length of him with her tongue, circled his head, and sucked him into her mouth again. Up and down, she sucked until her cheeks burned.

Then suddenly, he snatched her hips from the bed and yanked her body away to reposition them. She did her best to keep performing for him while he turned to throw her leg over his shoulder. Now that she straddled his face, he lifted his head to kiss her clit.

She whimpered and her own attention diverted, but he spanked her. “This is for my pleasure, slut. You keep working. Earn your place at my side.”

Doing as told, she did her best to keep up the action. It wasn’t easy. His tongue probed into her then flickered over her.

“Rushe,” she wheezed out, her mouth still full of him.

“Your sweet pussy juice, you’re gonna come all over my tongue… You suck my cock into your throat.”

Closing her eyes, she did just that. Working him with her hand, she fondled his balls, and tried to ignore the awareness growing in her.

“Rushe,” she said again, increasing her pace as his tongue moved faster on her and shoved inside. “Oh, God!”

Orgasm enveloped her at the same moment his hot milk sprayed her mouth. With barely any presence of mind, she swallowed, licking the last remnants from him before she flopped onto him, her cheek landing on his groin.

“You’re cruel,” she whispered with a broad smile.

He slapped her ass again. “Yeah, punishment by orgasm.”

“I’d have asked permission if I had a way to get in touch with you.”

“If you had a way to get in touch with me, I’d have abandoned the job last night and come here to be with you.”

The promise of sex always existed between them. Words were as potent as the physical where they were concerned.

“I missed you.”

“You never feel right when we’re not together,” he said, caressing her legs. “Neither do I.”

That was a hell of an admission from the man who needed no one. Tipping her head closer, she traced her nose up his length, and down, letting the tip of her tongue join in until she got to his head, and puckering her lips, she kissed him.

“You still hungry?” he asked.

“Showing my appreciation.”

“He feels appreciated, believe me.”

Her smile widened as she closed her eyes. “I love him. I love you.”

“You sleeping down there? I might get cozy with your pussy again.”

“That’s the hope,” she said on a sigh.

His hair tickled her thigh, indicating he’d elevated his head again.

In the next second, he enticed her clit through his lips. “Sweet nectar.”

She snapped her legs down and together, bringing her to an almost kneeling position on his abdomen. “I was kidding,” she said, smiling.

Twisting her body around, she tucked her head under his chin and linked their fingers on the bed at his sides. When she closed her legs to nestle between his she deliberately caught his member between her thighs, causing it to fill with blood again.

“Rushe.”

“I’ll give you a five minute break, no more than that,” he grumbled, greatly put out by the idea she might want to rest.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” she said, bringing her head up so she could look him in the eye. “You do trust me now, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

Though Rushe was capable of lying to her, she didn’t see any hint of deception. They’d been through a lot and nearly lost each other more than once, but he was her priority. Could he be ready to accept that?

FIVE

Breakfast in the Hughes house traditionally offered everyone a chance to reflect on the previous night’s events, and to inform others of all plans for the day ahead. Put another way, it served as an opportunity to bitch and boast.

Although she’d expected Rushe to be hesitant about joining the family around the table, he wasn’t. While traversing the hallway on their way to the breakfast room she tried, and failed, to interlink their fingers. Instead, Rushe hooked her digits into his back pocket, and curled his own hand around the back of her neck to direct her into the room.

Her father held prominence at the head of the table, flanked by Roger and Antoine. Martin sat facing Lucia and beside his wife, her other sister, Vivian. Beverly was seated opposite, with an empty chair at her side. All of those present silenced and turned to examine her and Rushe when they entered, but her lover didn’t pause for so much as a heartbeat.

He strode across the room and upon reaching the table, he urged her forward, yanked out the chair next to Beverly, sat, and pulled her down into his lap.

“Good… morning,” Beverly Hughes managed to say.

“Morning,” Flick said.

Rushe’s hand skimmed down her spine to her ass. Scooping his hand underneath, he gave her a boost. “Fruit,” Rushe said.

She stood and bent over the table to reach the dish of fruit salad in the center of the spread. As she ladled it into one of the individual bowls, her love grasped her hips to jerk her ass into his direct line of sight.

With his proprietary squeeze, a smile formed on Flick’s lips. “What does everyone have planned for today?” she asked.

On scanning the dumbstruck faces at the table, she stuck on Antoine. The European wasn’t amused or shocked, but his astute eyes were fixed on hers. She sat down on Rushe’s thigh and forked a slice of peach into his mouth.

Something about the act was so sensual that she forgot all about Antoine. Rushe must’ve sensed her discomfort, though she didn’t know how. His gaze remained glued to hers as he took the fork and tossed it down on the table.

If Flick had been able to think of anything else, she might have noted her family had never been so silent. But Rushe parted his lips just enough to give her a silent command.

Blindly selecting another segment with her fingers, she took it up to his mouth. Her lover dipped forward to take both the fruit and her fingertips in the process.

“This is highly irregular, Felicity,” Charles Hughes declared, breaking the trance between her and her love.

Turning his head, Rushe planted a glare on her father. She pushed the bowl to the table and draped her arms around his neck. But his head moved again, and she knew Antoine was getting that same scowl.

With a sigh, her cheek rested on her arm, which remained on his shoulder. Somehow, even in that space Rushe had asserted his dominance over every other man. He was the alpha. She would never know how he sized up a room and took control with such ease, but he’d done it again.

After that encounter with the family, they hadn’t lingered over their meal. It wasn’t much later when she was sat on the end of their bed, stroking her hands down her thighs, awaiting her love’s re-entry to the bedroom.

“I’m not going to the spa with my sisters,” Flick called to Rushe in their bathroom.

“I’m not staying here,” Rushe called back.

Pointing her toes, she scrutinized her legs. “I’ll put out.”

“Généreux de votre part.”

Antoine came into view in the open bedroom doorway at the same instant Rushe materialized.

“Get outta here,” her love said, marching to be equidistance between her and the trespasser, blocking her from Antoine Mercier’s line of sight.

“She is très sexy, une belle femme.”

“Fuck off or give me the information, messenger boy.”

“You are not proud of your woman?” Antoine asked.

“He’s très proud, believe me,” Flick said.

“Spirited.”

Antoine sauntered into the room, prompting Rushe to move in toward him. If Mercier tried to challenge Rushe’s superiority, he was going to lose.

But Serendipity was still in trouble. The only way they had a chance of helping her was to play Antoine’s game, at least for now.

“Say your piece and get out of here,” she said, getting to her feet.

“I am not the one going somewhere, ma chère.”

Antoine handed Rushe a folded slip of paper, which her love opened and read. Blinking his attention back up to Antoine, the two men locked focus.

“Oui?” Antoine asked.

Rushe nodded once.

She approached her lover, and though he would be aware of her, she tucked her hand into his back pocket to indicate her proximity. Out of nothing more than provocation, Mercier lingered over checking out her figure. Rushe growled and took a step toward the Frenchman, so Antoine slunk back and disappeared from their turf.

“Lover?” she asked, grazing her lips on his upper arm.

“We’re leaving.”

This was an order, a command to be obeyed. The specifics of where they were going or why eluded her, but he was taking her along for the ride. She wouldn’t argue. No matter the destination or motivation, she wanted to be at Rushe’s flank, and for now at least, he was allowing her to be there.

SIX

The car would be untraceable, and their luggage sparse, but Rushe would have everything they could possibly need. During their last adventure, Rushe almost lost his life. There had been no time to recover from that ordeal, either physically or emotionally. Nevertheless, as they drove on for hours, the steely resolve encompassing Rushe intensified. He was ready for anything.

“What do they want us to do?” she asked, for what had to be the tenth time.

Rushe still didn’t answer.

Her reluctance to leave her family was appeased when Rushe made it clear Antoine was there to maintain the threat, but physical harm was unlikely. Antoine had ingratiated himself with the Hughes family and wanted that friendship to continue. The longer he was there, maintaining the association, the longer he could have Rushe do his bidding. The life of privilege and luxury he was living in the Hughes home would appeal to him as well.

She could’ve stayed with her family, but Rushe wanted her at his side, and she’d fought for that honor. She wasn’t going to give up the chance.

Antoine had resided with her family for two weeks and had been part of their lives for a month. If it had been his intention to indiscriminately hurt them, he’d had ample opportunity to do it.