Boss: Complete Box Set: A Mob BDSM Romance (22 page)

I think back to the first day I met Brent. “The box I delivered to you—“

“Contained proof that Ionas was dead—his signet ring and…pictures. He prided himself on doing me a favor I never asked for, and in return, I had no choice but to launder money for him. After I got over my initial shock, I was happy to repay the favor.”

The bedsheet slips down my chest. I grab it and pull it all the way to beneath my chin. I’m suddenly so cold that I can’t stop shaking. Georgios has been such a huge part of my life, and it feels like it will never end. My connection to him, both my own and Brent’s, will never break. I want that man out of my life. God, how I hate him.

“Talk to me. Erica.” Brent’s voice is thick with concern, and I suppose I’m quietly panicking. He knows, of course, because he reads my body and expressions with fine-tuned expertise. In my heart, I know why Brent wanted me so much in the early days.

Neither of us could know how things would grow between us, but it doesn’t erase the fact that he used me in the beginning.

“I was a pawn, I know that. But why? What was your end game?”

He clenches his eyes and that involuntary admission of truth pains me.

“I knew you were his, seeing as you were the one who brought me the proof. I wanted to rattle him, to let him know that I could take things from him, learn his secrets. Show him that I was growing powerful enough that perhaps we could renegotiate. To get out.”

Brent cups my face with one big palm. “I flaunted you in front of him, yes. I wanted him to see what I had. But damn it, from the moment you opened that sassy mouth and I saw the fire in your eyes, I knew I had to keep you for myself.”

That night seemed so long ago, yet I clearly recall my fear and disgust at seeing Georgios there. The seeds of curiosity over Brent’s connection to him were planted the moment I became trapped between them both. And now I finally know.

“Taunting him backfired,” I say quietly.

He plays with a lock of my hair, but it doesn’t soothe me. “Yes. It only made him want you more.”

At some point, Georgios began to forget about me. Once he’d released me from my obligation to him, he’d kept his distance. Why else would he not renew the term of my service to him? Just because I was ready to go didn’t mean he had to let me. It wasn’t until Brent had brought me to that party that the revolting Greek remembered that I’d been his. That I was good.

And that I knew more than he wanted Brent to find out.

“Tell me what happened today.” Brent nuzzles my neck and places a soft kiss behind my ear. My body is still aching from the force of our fucking, but that simple press of his lips makes me wet all over again. I’d gotten out of talking about it with the police for now, but I owe Brent the story.

I tell him everything. How Asshole was holding me for Georgios, how I tried to fake my death and somehow managed to swim for my life. It would have been so easy to roll over and surrender, to just give up and let Georgios have has way with me. Instead, I fought and am lying in the arms of the man I love. Despite the missteps. Despite the blatant mistakes. Despite it all, I love him.

I do.

And he needs to know.

Brent places a tender kiss on my lips. He holds my head to his chest and smooths my hair. He murmurs apologies and kisses my lips. I don’t want him feeling guilty or responsible. Instead, I want him to hear me.

I want to say those three hot words so badly, but they stick inside my mouth.

“Erica, I haven’t worked for him in a long time. I swear it. The more I helped him, the dirtier the work he wanted me to do. I backed off, little by little. That dinner—that was the end of our professional relationship.”

“But, the expense reports? I saw them. Someone put a flash drive in my bag.”

“I did. I meant to intercept you before you opened it so we could talk about it, so I could tell you everything. Those expenditures are residual from contracts I had with Georgios in the past. I wanted you to see that I don’t have any current involvement with him.”

Just like that, it’s over.

This must be what people mean in movies when they say everything got wrapped up with a pretty bow. All the misunderstandings and questions and loose ends. Everything. It really is like a weight lifts up, off my chest, and I can breathe! Jesus, how long has it been since I’ve really taken a breath?

Weeks. Days. Hours.

“Brent, I—”

“Please say that you forgive me, Erica.”

“I love you.” I blurt the words and quickly repeat them because I’m not even sure that I said them the first time. They come out faster the second time, more unintelligible. Brent cups my face, his thumb sweeping across my lips as if he wants me to stop talking. I said the wrong thing…I shouldn’t have told him, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Brent, I—“

“I love you, too.” His eyes are wide, shell-shocked, but the smile that tugs his lips is full and genuine and real. “I swear, Erica, I didn’t know I could love again like this. But you make me feel so much. So damn much.”

Stunned, I search his face. Tears shimmer in his eyes, and my own prick with tears in response. I lean into his arms and he wraps me up. My heart soars as he holds me against his chest so I feel his heartbeat against my cheek. Softly, we lay together, quietly breathing.

I absorb the strength of his love with every beat of his heart.

As the night ticks on, I refuse to go to sleep. I don’t want to miss a second of the joy and love pumping between us. I hold him as tightly as I’m able because I refuse to let go. He strokes my hair with one hand, his other arm holding the length of me along the length of him.

Tomorrow, we’ll have to deal with the mess. But tonight, neither of us is letting go.

“
W
ell
, it’s settled then. I’ll make the call.”

Brent looks at me over the top of his newspaper. It’s like a cozy scene from a chick flick. Me, in my white cami and boxer shorts, with my hair in a messy bun. Him, in a pair of sleep bottoms with his spectacular bare chest on display. He’s reading the New York Times. I’m sipping orange juice and eating fruit from a crystal bowl while the sun glitters through the kitchen window over both of us.

The conversation we just had is akin to James Bond throwing up all over our cozy breakfast. But Brent’s right. It
is
settled. There’s nothing left for us to do. Oddly, I feel fine with what we’re about to do. More than fine…relieved, actually. His expression is relaxed without a single hard edge to make me worry we’re making the wrong choice. Instead of getting up to make the call, Brent reaches for my hand and entwines our fingers.

Nothing has ever felt more right in my life.

My uprooted, twisted, and soon to be non-existent life.

The cops came last night, not just one, but four of them, along with a detective and two agents from the FBI at one a.m. Instead of sleeping after making love and reveling in our newly discovered feelings for each other, Brent and I stayed up talking. Planning. Worrying. He’d never been so open with me before. His emotions played on his face and the truths coming out of him were raw and genuine.

His involvement with the Greek mob went deep, and Brent knew details and nuances about their operation that made him a very expendable man.

He knew
too
much about them. If he wasn’t working with them, he was dead. He’d been on a countdown since the night of the dinner. Since me. My botched kidnapping would likely be the impetus that set our inevitable murders into effect. They wouldn’t stop until we were both dead.

He turned over two flash drives of evidence against the mob to the FBI, along with photos and files he had stashed in his safe. Essentially, he’d put our lives in strangers’ hands and hoped their legal and protective power could save us.

Brent’s thumb sweeps the back of my hand. I give him a smile of encouragement and with that, he gets up, folds his paper and walks barefoot to the kitchen counter for his phone. The sun sparkles over the immaculate lawn outside the window. Dew still clings there, shimmering like diamonds. It’s a beautiful morning—the perfect day to start a new life.

“Agent Brickside, please.” Brent is calm, his voice unwavering. “Agent, Brent Masters. Yes. Yes, we’ve decided.”

He looks at me, the slightest question in his eyes. My chest fills up that he’s seeking my approval. He’s my Dom, but I’m his partner first. That’s love. I give a single nod and he smiles. I don’t have to cease to exist in order to have a lifetime with this man. I never really existed before him. Brent stands beside me and slips an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side.

“Yes, we’ll enter the witness protection program.”

M
r. and Mrs. Lacy and Simon Peters
.

That’s us.

Brent, er, Simon, unzips the back of my gauzy white wedding dress and takes his time slipping the narrow straps off my shoulders. Half an hour ago, our alter-egos got married on a Mexican beach with just the Padre and a couple of women I’d met in the village as witnesses.

For two months, I was Lacy Cochran, assistant to internet marketer, Simon Peters. Those were parts of our new identities, and with the Fed’s help, we relocated to a touristy village on the Mexican coast. For a man who had his entire empire erased, Brent didn’t have any trouble making a few “anonymous” connections, which helped him become a highly sought after casino consultant. Now he was high rolling, quietly and mostly online, by sharing his extensive knowledge of everything casino.

That, and the safeguards Brent had put on a hidden bank account (that even I didn’t know about!) gave us access to millions without once having to use our old identities. Everything was turning around. We relaxed as the threat of the Greek mob faded into distant memory.

And then he proposed. Thirty-six hours ago, to be exact, Brent got down on one knee and asked me to become Mrs. Simon Peters. I never did say the word “yes.” I couldn’t get it out through the tears and sobbing on his shoulder and jumping up and down. But he knew, just like I knew that it was a yes and would always be a yes. We went into town that day to get my summery dress with blue embroidered flowers on the bodice and a white shirt and khakis for him. It was so simple, but so perfect as we held hands, faced each other, and said vows.

“Mrs. Peters.” Brent’s firm voice pulls me back to the moment. “You’re daydreaming.”

My cheeks flush hot. “I’m delightfully overwhelmed.”

“Well then.” He strips the dress off me and tosses it to the side. His eyes rake my nakedness and my skin comes to life. “Be overwhelmed on your knees.”

I sink down easily when he presses lightly on the top of my head. I spread my legs and put my palms on my knees in a position of complete submission. Brent makes a sexy, appreciative sound and trails a hand over my hair before he walks away. A moment later, he kneels in front of me. Surprised, I look up. He’s never lowered himself to my level before. That’s not how this works.

He’s holding a square, white box and lifts the top. My breath catches in my throat. A diamond and gold choker lies on a velvet insert. Carefully, Brent removes it, unclasps it and slips it around my throat. My fingers hold the gift against my skin as he fastens it.

A new collar, on our wedding day. It’s like getting a second wedding ring, and the meaning is just as strong. He’s bound me so completely to him now, and I’m willing. So very willing to be his. Liz may have been his first love, but it seems like her shadow has finally slipped away. It’s my turn to love him, to care for him. To be his everything. And I accept the responsibility with an open heart.

“My God, you’re beautiful.” Brent traces the collar before helping me to my feet. His lips brush against mine, soft and innocent. His hand finds mine and he leads me to the sliding door. My heart ticks up as he opens it and leads us to the beach. It’s not a private beach per say, and it’s definitely not a nude beach, but right now it feels like it should be both. There’s a half wall on each side of us, creating a sort of privacy barrier, though anyone walking directly in front of us on the beach could see us.

He wraps an arm under my breasts and presses his front against my back. His other hand slides between my legs, his middle finger diving between my pussy lips and finding my clit. I suck in a breath and reach around to hold onto him. My body is facing the beach. I spread my legs to give him better access, my nipples peak painfully. Anyone could see me like this, open and receiving pleasure from my Dom, my husband, and I don’t care.

“Touch your tits,” he growls in my ear. His finger makes slow, torturous circles around my needy clit. Pleasure and want flood my pussy, and I grind back against him. His erection is long and thick, trapped inside his shorts and God, how I want to let it free.

I rub my nipples and cup my breasts. The added sensation makes me moan and squirm against Brent’s solid body. His expert fingers work me, bringing me to the brink of orgasm. My inner muscles clench and I bear down into his touch, desperate for release. With a slight chuckle, he spins me and lays me back against a lounge chair near the privacy wall. In an instant, he’s on his knees, parting my thighs with an urgent sweep of his hands.

He drops to his knees and licks between my thighs. Crying out, I grope huge handfuls of his hair and hold him to me. His tongue glides along my seam, not breaching my entrance, though I desperately need him to. His lips kiss along my needy flesh, the tip of his tongue pressing ever so slightly between my folds. I buck and cry out when he pulls back for a moment before resuming taunting me with his tongue.

With a gentle thrust, his fingers plunge into me. At the same time, Brent licks my clit hard, fast, relentlessly. My thighs shake, my skin slick with sweat as heat and pleasure burst through me. My orgasm comes on like a fucking freight train, barreling through me. I’m crying out, completely unable to help it. The sun is hot on breasts as wave after wave of pleasure go through me.

“Turn over.” He flips me onto my knees on the lounge, but I’m barely aware. His zipper drops and I have the brief thought that I should be pleasuring him in some way. But he slides the engorged tip of his cock along my soaked pussy, and I forget about any submissive role I’m not filling. He’s taking me along for a delicious ride. My center is sensitive from climax, but the feel of his tip working in and out and dragging up and down along my seam flames my lust all over again.

He sinks into my pussy and I drop lower on my forearms at the deep pleasure. He withdraws and uses his fingers to drag my wetness across my perineum, to my ass, circling the rim and gently teasing his fingers inside, thoroughly lubing me with my own juices.

“Hold on, love.”

My fingers grip the lounge’s edge, the rest of my body relaxing on instinct. I want this so bad. Brent rims my ass with his cock and then slowly, so fucking slowly, enters. I throw my head back as he slides deeper, my ass spasming the intensity and incredible pleasure. Suddenly, I’m pressing back against him, wanting it so bad, needing him to fuck my ass. His cock seats fully and I can’t breathe.

“Fuck, fuck!” Brent groans as he grabs a handful of my hair and yanks my head back. My back arches, my ass pressed firmly against his abdomen. Carefully, he pulls back and thrusts and the focused intensity of his dick inside me melts into a mindfuck of pleasure. I’m not sure how I’m breathing, how I’m functioning at all. His giant cock hits all the right nerves, all the places that make my entire body quiver.

He reaches around and finds my clit. His other hand pulls hard on my hair, keeping my back in the perfect arch. Suddenly, he’s rubbing and fucking me, rubbing and fucking, and I lose all sense of reality. The sounds I’m making don’t even sound human. They’re loud, and I don’t care. I can’t stop. Delicious pressure and pleasure keep building and building and I’m going to fucking come apart.

“Do you like it? Tell me.” Brent’s voice is raw and lusty.

I struggle to find my voice. “Yes, yes I like it,” I gasp.

His hand tightens in my hair. “What do you like?”

I’m seconds away from playing tennis with the stars. “I like it…when you fill me up, Sir. Oh God, I love it!”

He groans and releases my hair. I’m on the edge, looking over. My ass is so full, my clit begging and fighting for release. The first slap on my ass comes as a complete surprise. I yelp, and it turns into a moan as he works my clit harder. Faster. Oh God, fucking my ass like he owns it, as the next slap comes.

“More, please Sir, more!”

Another. My ass cheek burns, but each spank makes the tension higher, tighter. Brent’s hand comes down hard, his palm imprinting me and launching me into another orgasm so strong, I feel like I’m going to black out. My head spins, my body soars. Brent wraps an arm around my chest and supports me. I feel him growing even harder—I didn’t realize such a thing was possible—just a moment before he comes, holding my hips firmly and loosing a sexy as hell groan from deep in his throat. His motions slowly ebb, and he almost drapes his body across mine, almost collapsing us both.

His chest rises and falls hard as he struggles to catch his breath. We sit like that for long minutes and it takes me that long to remember that we’re outside. It’s a little late for modesty now.

Pulling back from me with a sleepy smile, Brent cleans me off with his shirt and helps me up. His arms wrap around me, his lips consuming mine until I’m dizzy again.

“Come on, Mrs. Peters.”

I’ll never get tired of hearing that I’m his wife. He leads me into the shower, takes his time washing me. I’m exhausted by the time I dress in a slip and lie in bed, and it’s only two in the afternoon.

Brent pads around barefoot in only his shorts with his dark, wet hair slicked back. He has just leaned down to kiss me when there’s a knock at the door. We weren’t expecting anyone. Then again, with our new, low-key identities, we never really do. Since we gave the housekeeper the day off in light of our wedding, I move to get up and answer the door, but he stops me.

“Just stay here.”

A flicker of alarm goes through me. I can’t lie. Worry about the mob is still there, it’s just easier to ignore than it was before. What if someone’s found us? Brent’s soothing voice wafts back to me from the front room, but it’s not enough. I have to make sure for myself that no one is waiting on the other side to kill him.

I go into the front room and stop dead.

It’s the security guard from Brent’s old house—the guy who told me to never talk to strangers and who always seemed to be watching me too closely. He and Brent clasp hands and Brent all but pulls him into the villa. The guard looks at me and smiles like an old friend. I look between him and Brent, confused and still a little concerned.

“Eduard, you remember my wife, Lacy?”

They share a knowing look and Eduard nods. “Of course. Lacy.”

Turning back to Brent, he hands him a plain brown cardboard box. My mind flies back to another box, one I handed Brent, all those years ago. Brent’s face grows serious as he opens it and slowly, rifles through whatever’s inside.

He lowers the box and closes his eyes. “Thank God.”

“I knew you would be pleased.” Eduard crosses his hands in front of him. “I’m happy to have been of help in this.”

Brent frowns, obviously confused. He hands me the box as he asks the guard, “What kind of help?”

Brent’s arm slips around me as I look inside. And go cold. Pictures, several of them, are stacked neatly inside. All of Georgios’ corpse. His face and body crossed with the neat incisions of autopsy. Nausea hits me but it quickly goes away as I realize,
really
realize, that Georgios is dead.

All the pain of the past year gels together and just…leaves. Nathalie and Liz are vindicated. Finally, there’s been some justice for the role that this horrible man played in our lives.

“Heart attack,” Eduard says. “That’s what the coroner said. After you and Erica left the country, I signed on with Georgios’ security team. But only,” he quickly added, “to monitor whether or not the mob would be able to track you down. I was valuable to them, giving them false leads on where I thought you might have gone.”

I shut the box and handed it back to Brent. I didn’t want anything else to do with what was inside, ever.

“Georgios was very vocal about his abnormal heart rhythm, so I took advantage of it. Some wet footprints leading to his room in the night. A sink that overflowed for no reason. Erica’s name written on the bathroom mirror. All childish pranks that made a very superstitious man believe the ghost of a drowned young woman was haunting him.”

“You gave him a heart attack!” I burst. I’m actually rather impressed.

Eduard shrugged, his expression completely unconcerned. “He was an evil man.”

He reached into his inner jacket pocket and produced a white badge. Eduard O’Hern, FBI, retired Intelligence Security Division.

“Explains how you found us.” Brent said.

“Yes. I understand that you’ve found yourself in business again and would like to offer my security services. If you’re in need.”

New names, new lives, new country. It doesn’t matter. I want whatever it takes to keep Brent safe, always.

“Yes,” I say and look at Brent. “We need you.”

“Excellent.” Eduard suddenly turns and out stretches an arm. I see a flash of red approach the doorway and there she is! My mouth goes dry, my eye wide as I stare. Stunned.

“I hope you don’t mind. I’ve brought my fiancé. She was peeking in a shop down the street.”

Brent barks a laugh and reaches for the woman, and suddenly he’s hugging her and she’s hugging me and tears are flowing down my face.

Donetta!

It turns out after Brent’s disappearance, she tracked Eduard down. She knew if anyone knew where her boss was, where
I
was, it was him. In a move I can’t help but be proud of, she waited on his doorstep day and night until he told her Mr. Masters was safe. And by the time he trusted her enough to tell her that, they’d fallen in love.

We could go back, but why? Everything I ever cared about is here now. I pull my husband into my arms and kiss his sexy mouth.

“I love you.”

He wipes my tears with a sweep of his thumbs. His voice is low and only for me. “You’re everything to me. Everything! Do you understand?”

I slide my arms around his neck and nuzzle beneath his ear. Everything we’ve been through has culminated to this one, incredible moment. I understand perfectly. And I can’t wait to see what the future brings with my loved ones by my side.

“Say it.” He demands with a playful pinch on my ass.

I’ll always say it. Until my last breath.

“Yes, Sir.”

~
T
HE END
~