Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5) (31 page)

Sean’s head turned her way as she walked in, his serious gaze locking onto her and not letting go. The hard stare he aimed her way sparked a wave of unease, especially after their last few volatile encounters. As he moved toward the doors, the other men turned to watch having noticed her too.

The guard had her stop at the counter where another officer handed her a clunky brown envelope. She felt Sean’s disquieting presence through the glass and glanced his way.

“Miss Lewis.” The guard wrapped on the desk sharply with her knuckles.

Snapping to attention, Mara turned back. That wasn’t right.

“Your personal affects, Miss Lewis. I need you to sign that you have received what you came in with.”

“Mrs.,” she murmured vaguely as she peered into the envelope.

“Pardon?”

“It’s Mrs. O’Brien. I’m married.” Her gaze wandered to where Sean waited, shifting his weight and crossing his arms in obvious impatience.

“Sign here, please.”

Vaguely, she picked up her wallet and keys, and signed on the line the woman indicated.

“You’re free to go.”

A buzzing sounded as the door locks clicked. Her feet suddenly felt like she was wearing leaden shoes. When she didn’t move, Sean pushed the door open, holding it wide for her. She willed herself to move, but nothing happened, at least not with her feet. Instead, her head started to swim and her knees became weak.

“Are you ill,” the guard asked, her fingers once again curling around her arm as she started to crumple. It was unnecessary because strong arms were already sliding around her.

“Mara?”

Everything went off kilter before she was lifted and held against his chest.

“Does she need the nurse, sir?”

“She’ll be fine, as soon as she gets the hell out of here.” His tone was far from cordial to the guard making Mara want to cheer. If her head hadn’t been spinning, she might have done exactly that, or at least given a fist pump or a high five, something, because not only hadn’t the woman been particularly kind, she’d been unnecessarily rough. She could feel her fingers digging into her arm and was sure to have bruises.

Sean carried her out the door, with Cap and the general closing ranks around them. When he got to the front door, they paused while Cap spoke with someone right outside the door.

“I don’t know how they found out, but there’s media everywhere,” the someone outside and out of sight stated. “The car is waiting, but I suggest you move fast.”

Cap looked at Mara, a glower darkened his face as he warned, “Media and paparazzi. This won’t be pleasant.”

She felt, more than saw Sean nod, then they were moving once more. Jostled and bounced as he descended the stairs, he curled her against him. His hand came up to press her face against his chest, hiding her from the dozens of rapidly clicking and whirring cameras. He couldn’t keep the crowd from calling out to her.

“There she is!”

“Ms. O’Brien, will you answer some questions?”

“Why did you shoot Victor Mendoza? Was it a lover’s quarrel?”

“Mara, over here.”

“It’s rumored you were the old man’s lover too, is it true?”

“How did you get released? Did you agree to a plea?”

Of all the awful things they shouted, one lone accusation rose clearly over the jumble of the others. “Cop Killer!”

Too numb to react to the awful scene before now, her head came up at those words. Eyes on Sean, she asked sharply, “He’s dead?”

The cameras went crazy before he pushed her head firmly back down. “No, Tomas Diaz is very much alive. Keep your head down. We’re almost there.”

She couldn’t see more than the collar of his shirt. Abruptly he stopped and she was quite literally tossed into the back seat of a black SUV. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of the shouting, clamoring reporters pushing forward and the line of police and Rossi men holding them back. It was blocked out by Sean’s big body as he followed her inside. Doors slammed shut.

“Get us the hell out of here, Dex.” This came from Cap as he climbed in the front seat. The demand was unnecessary because the vehicle was already moving.

Sean’s hand at her cheek combed back her hair. “How are you doing, baby?”

The vehicle took a sharp turn and her stomach rolled. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shit,” came from up front.

Sean had a more action-oriented response. “Turn on the air, Dex. We can’t open the windows and for Christ’s sake try to keep it on four wheels. Cap, find me a puke bag or something.” Cool air hit her in the face as he pulled her towards the middle where the vent could reach her. “Deep breaths, Mara,” he urged.

“I’m sorry I made you hate me, Sean.” Miserable, she wanted to cry, but as she so often did, she choked back the tears.

“I don’t hate you, Mara,” he whispered as he pulled her against his chest.

“Everyone else does,” she whined, sounding pathetic to her own ears. “Why should you be any different?” Lost in self-pity and misery, she fell silent after that and with Sean beside her, cradling her in his arms, and Dex and Cap murmuring quietly in the front seat, she drifted off to sleep. The first she’d had in days.

Chapter Twenty-one

The soft linen was fragrant beneath her cheek, the bed plush and comfortable. This was not the Flea Bag Inn ala Laredo or general holding in the county lock up. The muscled arm weighing heavy across her waist didn’t belong to Big Alice—yes, while there hadn’t been a Bertha, Alice had been all too real—a 6-foot tall, tattooed behemoth of a woman who had eyed her contemptuously for the six interminable hours she’d been behind bars. And the warm, lightly haired chest pressing into her back along with the stiff erection that prodded her thigh, surely didn’t belong to any of the other scarier than hell women housed along with her in the Laredo jail. Thank god.

The obviously aroused, very male body behind her stirred, stretching long and slow like a cat. She wished she’d been facing him, to see him before he awakened, something she had enjoyed, but had rarely gotten to do while they were together. When she had, what a glorious sight it had been. In his last minutes of sleep, she’d soak in every detail of his masculine beauty until upon waking, his blue eyes would open, instantly alert and acutely aware, without the least residual of sleep. A leftover instinct from his Green Beret days she was certain. She’d missed sleeping and waking beside him.

As he moved closer, pressing fully against her back, his scent surrounded her, familiar and soothing with subtle hints of citrus and cypress. Turning her head slightly, she inhaled. He was using the Twilight Woods body wash she’d bought for him when they were together. One day, he’d commented positively on the scented candle she had burning. When she returned to the out of the way store where she’d purchased it, she’d been pleased to find a line of body wash and soaps for men in the same scent. She’d scooped it up, loving how it smelled on him. It became a staple in their shower stall.

That he continued to use it, having to make a special trip to buy it, spoke volumes. As did her burning the same scented candle in her apartment every night. Self-imposed torture, yes, it also comforted her, making her feel he was a part of her life. She closed her eyes as a wave of emotions swept through her, bittersweet as they were.

“You’re awake, Mara. We need to talk.” Sean’s tone, husky from sleep, stirred her like no other.

“Where are we?”

“A safe house in Galveston.”

His words took a moment to penetrate. Putting her lust aside, she allowed the reality of her situation to creep into her consciousness. She was still on the run, not from the law, but Victor and his thugs who could have only one goal when it came to the key witness who could single handedly take them all down, shutting her up permanently.

While they’d sped away from the Laredo jailhouse shortly after dark, he’d mentioned taking her somewhere safe, but she’d been so on edge, she supposed it didn’t sink in, like so much in the past few days. Taking in the slate blue walls with white trim, the white furniture and the cloudlike bed beneath her, it was impossible to believe this was the FBI’s doing.

“The FBI set this up?”

He huffed a low laugh. “Hardly. If they had, the mattress would be lumpy, the paper on the walls peeling, and the Gulf of Mexico sure wouldn’t be outside our bedroom window. This is a safe house Rossi style. We’ll stay here, keeping under the radar until the guys have time to beef up security enough for us to go home.”

“So are there agents outside or something?”

“No.”

“Then who…”

His hand lifted from her waist and caught her chin, turning her face up to his as he rose on an elbow. “You’re looking at him.”

“But—”

“I’m your handler for this op, Mara. That means I’ll die to keep you safe. It also means you follow my orders without question. Is that clear?”

His air of authority made her feel safe and roused her simultaneously. She answered back in a breathless whisper. “As crystal, Sir.”

Sean shifted, rolling her to her back as his eyes flashed. He settled on top of her, his lips coming down fiercely. This was no slow warm up, instead his kiss seared at once with intensity. His mouth opened wide over hers, his tongue invading and taking possession. It was exactly as she remembered, the memory of it had sustained her, filled her dreams and fueled her fantasies every day since she’d left. She gave herself to him, freely, eagerly and without reservation. They were both panting when he lifted his head long minutes later.

“Before we go further, there’s an important point to discuss. One of many, but this one takes priority.”

Somewhat dazed and more than a little disappointed, she blinked up at him. Distracted, she stared at his mouth. He was saying something, but she was preoccupied with his lips, full and wet, glistening with the proof of their shared passion.

“Mara, focus.”

Trying with difficulty to pay attention, she breathed deep but his scent enveloped her and made her efforts ineffective.

“Mara, did you hear me?”

“Yes, priorities,” was her breathy reply.

He cleared his throat, shifting beneath her, the hard length of him against her thigh told her he wasn’t entirely focused on the point of discussion either.

“I said you’re with me now and in the future. We’re married and I’ve decided we’re staying that way.”

That got her full attention. “But the divorce papers—”

“—Are in the shredder in my office.”

“So you’ve made this decision.”

“You got a problem with that?”

Secretly she rejoiced. After all she’d done, and all they’d been through, she hadn’t imagined a reconciliation was possible. With her history, she was skeptical, cynical even. She pushed back, testing his resolve.

“That’s not how things work in the real world, Sean.”

“How’s the real world been working out for you this past year, Mara?”

She grimaced. “Obviously, not great.”

“Exactly. This will be a fresh start for us, a clean slate, but things are going to be different this time around. I’m taking full control. We’re not going to be weekend players anymore, I want it 24/7.”

Stunned, her jaw dropped. “You want a slave?” Never had they gone so deep in the lifestyle.

“No. I’m not going to demand you greet me at the door naked and on your knees, or that you lick my boots. What I’m talking about is full-time D/s in our daily lives not only at the club. I’m in charge, no questions asked. There will be rules. If you break the rules, there will be punishment.”

Warmth and hope rushed through, as well as fear that this was all an elusive dream that would vanish upon waking. She stared up at her take-charge husband. Lord, how she’d missed him. Her nerves were on edge from the emotional roller coaster ride she’d been on. Unwittingly, the imp inside her surfaced.

She pushed up on an elbow, deliberately looking around the room. Leaning on a hip, she peered over the side of the bed.

“What are you looking for?”

She peeked at him over her shoulder. “Your club. You sound like a Neanderthal, but this doesn’t look like a cave.”

With notable speed, his hand came down sharply on her backside.

“Ow!”

Her hand flew back to rub away the sting, but Sean caught her wrist. Rolling her to her back, he came over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. Blue fire blazed down at her.

“Settle, Mara. Now is not the time for sass. I’m serious.”

He knew her so well.

She nodded, trying to turn away, but his hand captured her chin, compelling her to meet his eyes.

“I have no choice?”

“None.”

Again, her heart filled with joy, but the pain of her past, particularly the last year, leaving him and living without him, couldn’t be discounted. All the “better to have loved and lost bullshit” was exactly that. She couldn’t go through losing him again; it would destroy her.

Torn between protecting her ravaged heart and surrendering fully to him, she asked, “What if I don’t agree?”

“Do you love me?”

She stiffened. “What?”

“You heard me. In Cap’s office that day, you said you left me because you loved me. Have those feelings changed?”

She closed her eyes, her brow creasing. She’d said a lot in Cap’s office, none of which had been meant for Sean’s ears.

“Open your eyes and look at me, Mara.”

Her lashes lifted.

“I asked if your feelings have changed. I want an answer.”

Her tongue seemed almost paralyzed, the emotions so powerful, she was near to choking. Unable to make a verbal reply, she shook her head.

“Neither have mine. I think about you constantly. My body craves yours like a man lost in the desert craves water. I hunger for your touch, yearn to see you smile and hear your laughter, all of which have been absent from my life for far too long. I want you back, Mara, and this time, I’ll do what it takes to keep you.”

“How can you want me after all I’ve done?”

“Because I love you.”

Hearing the words at last, tears blurred her vision. His thumb swept over her cheek, a familiar gesture from a better time. Needing that gentle touch, she turned her face into the caress.