So he left to take care of business—whatever that meant—and I spent the morning cleaning the inside of the cabin instead of worrying more about the fate of Vincent Ricci and myself. Something I have little control of at this point. Don’t ask me why, but I found some general household cleaners under the kitchen sink the other day, and since I’m not sure I can watch one more movie or read one more book this week, I went on a scrubbing, dusting, and scouring rampage. And damn did it ever feel good!
That’s how I got inspired to make this beef stew. Some domestic switch went off in my head and I needed to cook and clean. Because even if my life is the furthest fucking thing from normal as you can get, doing these things at least makes me feel normal.
The sound of the key turning in the locks, followed by the squeak of the door hinges opening and closing, makes me smile. I doubt Raze will notice the missing layer of dust on the mantle, or that the kitchen sink no longer has rust caked around the faucet, but just him being back improves my mood. He and I may have gotten off to a rough start—I mean, I still haven’t forgotten he’s a crazy, twisted mafia dude who played a part in my abduction—but things have changed between us. Not everyone is always what they seem.
“Did everything go okay? You were gone for a while,” I call out when Raze doesn’t say anything at first, not bothering to turn away from the potatoes, onions, carrots, and celery I’ve got laid out on the cutting board.
A few seconds longer of chopping, and he still hasn’t greeted me, so naturally, I’m curious about what he’s doing or why he’s ignoring me. Dropping the knife, I wipe my hands off on a nearby wadded-up paper towel then spin around to peer into the living room.
And that’s when time stops around me.
I blink hard. Once. Twice. Maybe a hundred times. Then, still not believing the image in front of me, I rub my eyes with the backs of my hands before focusing yet again on a man who looks exactly like Madden. I have to be hallucinating.
He’s staring straight ahead, looking at me the way only Madden Decker can look at me. Like he has tunnel vision past all of the bad shit and can only see the best parts of me. He knows about the light buried in my soul.
“Blake.” He inhales deeply as he says my name, like it’s the most important breath of his life. “It’s really you.”
I’m not sure why, but I look down at my body to ensure it really is me. I’ve got on fleece gray sweats, a solid red t-shirt, and matching fuzzy socks—all clothes Raze had brought in for me—but it’s definitely me underneath the layers of clothing. Then, I lift my focus back up to take him all in, looking even more gorgeous than I remember, dressed in black from head to toe.
“It is,” I whisper, still not sure this isn’t a dream. “But is it really you?”
Nodding, he hastily removes the baseball hat from his head and flashes me a smile so big, so full of love, that I swear my heart melts to liquid. “I had to grow my hair out this week, ‘cause I had to pretend I was Easton to get out of the house.”
Keeping the tears at bay is an impossible task. I don’t understand what is going on right now, and this entire thing is so incredibly fucked up. I’ve almost convinced myself the man I dream about every night is actually standing in the middle of the cabin.
“H-how did you find me? How did you get here? Are you taking me home? Where’s Raze? Oh, my God, did you kill him? Madden, we’ve gotta get out of here. They’ll come looking for us.” Once I ask the first question, I can’t stop the rambling. My brain is in freak-the-fuck-out mode, and I don’t know whether to laugh, scream, cry, or pass out.
Thankfully, Madden recognizes me teetering on the edge of lucidity, and in the blink of an eye, I’m crushed against his chest. Surrounded by him. Engulfed in him. Clinging to him. And then, and only then, I know it truly is him. My Madden came for me.
“Shh. Slow and steady, sweet girl.” He rests his cheek against the top of my head while rocking me against him. “I didn’t kill anyone to get here. Raze knows; he brought me in so I could see you.”
Tilting my neck back so our eyes meet, I crinkle my forehead, utterly dumbfounded. “Raze brought you here? Why? Did he tell you why they have me? Do you know Emer—”
His mouth slams down on mine in a commanding kiss, cutting me off before I can continue. My lips part for him instinctively, and our tongues stroke and caress each other’s, wild and untamed, making up for the days we’ve missed.
And as I share his breath, as I savor his taste, all of my worries and concerns melt away. Vincent. Ish. Emerson. The Russians. All of it, gone. The only thing that matters is this man. This kiss. This moment in time.
“Talk later,” he mumbles against my mouth. “Us first. Been too long.”
I don’t dare argue. I want to us forever with him.
Threading his fingers through my hair, our tongues tangle in a dance of desperation as my heart pounds out a bass line of devastating pleas. His hips push me backward until I feel my back hit the wood-panel wall then his firm thigh nudges my legs open so that he’s pressed up against my pulsing center. I whimper into his mouth, powerless to deny myself the urge to rock against him as I feel his thick shaft begin to harden. I think I may be dreaming again, and if so, I don’t ever want to wake up.
As our mouths break apart for air, he falls to his knees in front of me and pulls off my socks, tossing them out of the way, then hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my sweats, peeking up at me through his thick lashes with the silent request. Nodding, I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and roll it anxiously as I watch him slide the pants down my thighs and calves.
Straightening his legs, he extends to his full height as he grabs the bottom hem of my shirt and hauls it over my head, allowing his fingertips to drag across my stomach and breasts in the process. Left in only my plain white cotton bra and matching panties, he takes a step back and allows his intense stare to roam up and down the length of my body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Blake. I was scared I’d never see you again,” he confesses as he quickly closes the distance between us and scoops me up in his arms. “Is there somewhere more private we can go?”
I latch onto his neck and nod my head in the direction of the only bedroom. “I can’t believe you’re really here,” I whisper, rubbing my nose against his stubbly cheek.
Madden carries me the few steps it takes to reach the bed then, as he leans down to lay us on top of the comforter, he catches my lips with his in a tender kiss. “Believe it, sweet girl. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth if I have to. Nothing can keep me away from you.”
“But what about—”
This time, two fingers cover my mouth to cut my question short. Smirking, he shakes his head while situating himself between my legs. “I said ‘talk later.’ There are other things I want to do with my mouth first.” He drops his lips to my throat and swirls his tongue over the delicate skin covering my pulse. “Please don’t ask me to stop.”
Intuitively, I lift my arms above my head to the headboard and relax the muscles in my neck, allowing my head to fall back onto the pillow. He now has complete control to do with me what he pleases. My trust in him is unwavering. My love for him, unbreakable.
As his lips begin to trail downward, across my collarbones, and then to my chest, I blurt out, “Wait!”
Popping his chin up to look at me, I lift my head and meet his curious gaze. He’s confused on why I stopped him, nervous I’m going to say something bad.
“I just wanted to tell you that I love you, too. I know you thought I was asleep when you’d whisper it to me at night, but I wasn’t. I was just scared to say it back.” Releasing the bedframe with one hand, I reach up and cup his face, stroking my thumb over his beautifully swollen lips. Swollen from our kisses. “But now, I don’t want to be scared anymore. I want to be brave. Brave for you. Because I love you. And no matter what happens, I always want you to know that.”
There aren’t words to properly describe the expression that settles on Madden’
s face at my confession, but a peaceful serenity soothes out the worried lines on his forehead as his eyes twinkle with exhilaration.
“That right there—what you just said—is worth every single ounce of pain and agony I’ve endured in the last two weeks and more.” His mouth finds mine yet again, this time in a soft, gentle kiss filled with nothing but adoration and love. “So fucking much more.”
SHE IS THE MOST BREATHTAKING sight I’ve ever seen. Laid out beneath me atop the sorry excuse for a mattress with her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, she peers up at me with unadulterated love and longing in her crystal blue eyes. I grab her wrist that’s near my face and drag her hand to my mouth, kissing her palm before guiding her arm back over her head, where the other one remains.
Lowering my mouth to her ear, I trail my nose around the outer shell, stopping to suck on the lobe when I reach the bottom. “Will you let me show you how much I love you now, sweet girl?” I rasp.
“Yes,” she answers with a small seductive smile before correcting herself. “Yes, sir.”
My cock goes wild at the sound of those words leaving her mouth, and within seconds, my clothes, along with her bra and panties, are in a messy pile on the floor. I reposition myself in between her spread thighs, my body hovering inches over hers.
I palm one of her perfect breasts as my lips find the other. Kissing, flicking, and teasing. Kneading, tweaking, and caressing. Her back bows up off the bed as I continue the tantalizing ministrations, and I’m afraid I may come just by watching her writhe under my touch.
“Please, Madden," she moans. “Please . . . I need you.”
Her begging my name may be the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, an enticing song of desperation and desire, and it takes every bit of willpower I have not to sink deep inside of her with one greedy thrust. Primed for the taking, her naked body sprawled out is nearly my undoing. But I force myself to slow down.
Descending down her tight body, I use my shoulders against her inner thighs to keep them spread wide. My mouth shadows my hand's pattern, taunting and teasing as I slip between her soft petals and flit across her swollen bundle of nerves. Up and down, back and forth, my fingers and tongue torment her relentlessly as I revel in the feel, smell, and taste of her arousal.
"Inside," she pants, her knuckles turning white as she squeezes the slats in the headboard. "I need you inside me now, Madden."
My entire body trembles with anticipation as I glide back up her frame, lining my throbbing head up with her drenched slit. I can’t deny either of us any longer. I need to feel the connection to her as much as she needs it from me.
Fully consumed by all things Blake, I slowly work my way inside of her tight core. With each sweet inch I get closer to be being fully buried, I can feel her body stretch to accommodate my girth. And it’s fucking heaven.
Careful not to pin her with my weight, I prop myself up on my elbows so that my face is directly above hers as I begin to stroke my steeled shaft in and out of her warm, welcoming center. Gradually. Deliberately. Lovingly.
“I love you so much,” I murmur against her mouth, my rhythm steadily increasing. “I’ll never stop.”
Letting go of the bed, she wraps both her arms and legs around me, her heels digging into my ass as her fingers twist in my thick, unkempt hair. Our bodies are pressed so tightly together I’m not sure where I end and she begins. Yet I still feel the need for her to be closer. We move as one. We breathe as one. And we love as one.
Our climaxes build together, fueling one another as we race toward the peak of ecstasy. I’m not sure if it’s her release that triggers mine, or vice versa, but either way, when we fly off the cliff into our blissful nirvana, we’re there together. Our fingers interlaced. Our lips locked. And our hearts fused together. Forever.
“So let me make sure I get this straight.” Blake places a bowl of some delicious smelling stew in front of me then slides onto the other chair at the dinette I’ve moved close to me. “You just walked into Capo’s Car Creations, unarmed, and asked to speak to Vincent?”
After I had my wicked way with her twice more, Blake suddenly remembered all the food she’d left out to prepare when I’d arrived, so we reluctantly left the bed and moved into the kitchen for her to cook. I’m happy to see she’s being well fed and that there aren’t any new scars on her sides. I’ve spent countless hours not only worried about her physical safety, but also her mental state. Seeing her look ‘normal’ eases a tiny bit of my concern.
At her request, I’ve recounted every possible detail I can remember from the time I realized she was missing until the moment I walked through the door to the cabin several hours ago, and she’s done the same. Nothing she reveals to me surprises me much, but I’m thrilled to find out she hasn’t been mistreated once. And although I’d rather not discuss it at all in our limited time together, I understand it’s a necessary evil.
Nodding once, I grimace along with my confession. “Yeah, I realize it wasn’t the best thought-out plan, but I was out-of-my-mind crazy, Blake. I had to do something.”
“Please eat your food before it gets cold.” She stares at my spoon until I pick it up then returns to the original conversation. “What were you gonna do if he was there? Demand he release me? Challenge him to a fist fight?”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly after taking a bite. “I’m sure it’s a blessing he wasn’t there and that I was only left to deal with Tony the Tiger. He may have gotten the best of me that day, but if I ever see him again . . .”
Her silverware clinks against the bowl as she throws it down, shaking her head. “No! You are not doing anything else crazy or stupid. I’m already responsible for you being involved in this nightmare of mine. I won’t be able to live with myself if something else happens to you.”
“But I can’t live with myself without you, sweet girl.” Reaching out, I grab her arms and drag her over to sit in my lap. I need to feel her against me as much as possible. Thankfully, she doesn’t balk, and instead, slides her food and drink next to mine.
“Raze told me this morning that Vincent has come out of hiding and been in contact with Pakhan,” she says in a hushed voice.
“Pak-who?”
“Pakhan. Anatoli Kabinov. It’s like the Russian’s equivalent to the Godfather,” she explains matter-of-factly. “Anyway, Raze told me that talks have started, so hopefully we can all just get on with this soon, and I’ll be free to move on afterward.”
I sigh as I rest my temple against hers, trying my best to fight back the trepidation threatening to consume me. “I don’t like this plan, Blake. First, I don’t understand if they’re using you to lure Vincent to wherever, why can’t one of them kill him? Why does it have to be you?”
She doesn’t offer up an answer, so I assume that means she doesn’t have a good one. Then I bring up my next point, which is the one that concerns me the most. “And do you seriously think that after all of this—with everything you now know about their organization and this job—that Kabinov is really just gonna let you walk away? Free and clear?”
Skepticism washes over her face as she contemplates my questions, and it’s not that I have any alternatives or suggestions, but I’m afraid the stress and trauma of the entire situation is hindering her ability to think this through.
“Raze gave me his word that he’d keep me safe. He won’t let anyone hurt me,” she contends stubbornly.
Dropping my face to the side of her neck, I nuzzle the smooth, soft skin as I pepper kisses all around. “Look, I understand this Raze guy has been good to you, and I know he’s the one solely responsible for my being here right now . . . God, I can’t tell you how much this means to me. But his loyalty is to his family, sweet girl. If shit hits the fan when this all goes down, I have a hard time believing he’s going to choose you over one of his own.”
She doesn’t reply, and rather than pressuring her to speak, I start to feed her the hearty soup with her spoon. I love taking care of this woman, providing an
y and every thing she needs or wants, and it’s killing me that I can’t fix this situation. Other than alerting the FBI or Doherty to her broad whereabouts, which I’m afraid would lead to serious repercussions for all of us once the Kabinovs and Riccis found out, I have no solutions.
I’m trying not to dwell on it, but the reality remains that unless Blake or I can get her out of this mess—and quick-like—there’s a very real possibility this may be our last time together. The thought of that makes me manic, suicidal even, because I don’t want to live the rest of this life without her. I have to save her. She’s my Blake. I simply don’t work without her.
After both of our bowls are empty, she slides off my thighs and rinses our dishes out in the sink. Then, pulling a thermos down from one of the small cabinets, she fills it with the stew. I can do nothing but sit and watch her. I’m so fucking overwhelmed by her, especially now that I know the life she’s had to endure.
“He lied to his family to get you here today. They’d kill him if they knew he put the knowledge of our whereabouts in jeopardy,” she says lowly, keeping her gaze lowered on the counter. “I don’t know why he did it, but he did. So until I have a viable option to get me out of this mess without lingering consequences, I’m taking his word for the truth.”
Slowly lifting her chin, she brings her eyes up to meet mine. “Now, I’m not supposed to leave this cabin for any reason unless he tells me it’s okay, so I’d appreciate it if you’d take this out to him so he doesn’t have to starve, in addition to freezing, while spending the night in his truck. Then, I want you to come back inside, and allow me to show you again how much I love you. As many times as I can before you have to leave.”
I stand up without hesitation and grab the thermos, kissing the tip of her nose before delivering the food to the man who’s responsible for keeping the love of my life safe in the middle of a mafia war. Perplexed at first, he grumbles a thank you once he realizes what I’m handing him then hastily rolls the window up to keep the cold out of the truck.