Out of Time (Fall of the Morelli Crime Family #3)

15. Chapter 15

fifteen

Mark

L ooking at the way Bee was arguing with Lucas, you’d never guess that she was so nervous around him just a couple days ago.

“Don’t be an idiot. I can’t be seen with Mark at a police station or he’ll be even more of a target.”

“You were a witness to a shooting, Bianca. We need to take your statement.”

“You already have. But I’m not going down to the station. Who knows how many eyes are watching there?”

“Fine, then let’s go down to the FBI Headquarters. Everyone will be safe there.”

“Really. So you’re new to this case so there’s no way anyone knows you’re involved and no way you’re being watched, too?”

Lucas hesitated. She had him there.

“It’s still safer than just letting you go off alone.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. It was probably time for me to step in. “We’re around the corner from my apartment and if Theo followed us over to initiate a drive-by, he probably didn’t have time to break in and bug the place a second time, right? So why don’t we just go back there until we can get shit sorted out. Any problems with that?”

“None at all,” Bee said, slipping under my arm and wrapping herself around me. She really did love me.

It was a shock to my system, having someone who was in the same place as me emotionally, who wanted me as much as I wanted her. It felt so unnatural that the thought hadn’t even occurred to me until Bee said it explicitly. I was pathetic.

But Lucas was shrugging, so Bee and I headed back to my car, Lucas staying at the scene to supervise the fallout. He’d get some fancy-pants FBI crime scene techs to sweep the place, but they weren’t likely to find anything of use. We already noted the lack of cameras and expected the rounds to be generic. We had Bee’s description of the shooter and if there were any other witnesses, they would have shown their faces by now.

I made sure the hoodie was covering Bee’s face completely before we left the garage and sped back down the street to the still-open parking space near the front of my building. Because she was right: she really shouldn’t be seen with law enforcement until we put this case to rest.

My hope for turning Theo Gates was gone; if he was willing to shoot at us, it was unlikely we’d get him to rat out his boss, let alone go full-on mole for us. Anything he said at this point would only implicate himself for some pretty harsh crimes; he wasn’t an idiot, even if he was acting like one by working for the Morellis.

The despair hit hard as I walked around to the passenger side to open Bee’s door for her. I was finally feeling confident in Bee’s feelings for me, but if we couldn’t put her family behind bars soon, she would be in danger, no matter what she did or didn’t divulge to me about their operation.

The closer I got to her door, the more anxiety I felt. Bee wanted to make a go of it with me. That was what I wanted, so why did I dread it as much as I loved it?

That stupid fucking curse.

Dani dumped me before she died. She wanted the freedom to hang out with her friends and enjoy being young and single. Sierra felt suffocated, so she dumped me before she died. Natalie stood up for her needs when she felt I was too invested in the relationship, so she ended things just seconds before she died.

But I wouldn’t survive if I lost Bee now.

She had every opportunity to turn me down, to stop things before they got started for real. But Bee smiled so widely at me as she put her hand in mine so I could help her out of her seat. She wasn’t going to dump me, so that meant that she wouldn’t die on me, right?

I clung to her happiness, letting it pull me out of what would probably have been an epic bout of self-pity and shame spiraling. She made her choice, and I was lucky enough to reap the benefits of it. I would stop feeling sorry for myself and start living in the moment with my girl.

The certainty with which she held my hand, head up high even if her face was obscured, filled me with pride. Gone was the nervous, timid woman from days ago.

Being shot at sucked, but it usually had one of two outcomes. You become a shooting victim, wary and cautious verging on paranoid, or you become a survivor of a shooting, determined to keep going no matter what.

Bee was a survivor.

She was confident and determined, and it was so fucking hot. I was suddenly very grateful that Lucas stayed behind. We headed up the stairs, that damn OUT OF ORDER sign still on the elevator, Bee gripping my hand the whole way.

The confidence was sexy, and I wasted no time in unlocking my apartment door and opening it wide for Bee to enter before me. Her hips swayed as she made her way into the living room, and I locked the door, only a couple steps behind her as I deposited my badge and wallet on the kitchen counter.

“Sit with me?” she asked, pulling the hood off her head and dragging me down onto the couch beside her.

“If you insist.” I ensured my service weapon was in a safe position and set it on the side table, out of the way, but still easy to reach if something was to happen. Then I lifted my arm so she could snuggle against me. I could feel her curves pressed into my side, luxuriated in the feel of her soft body.

This smart, beautiful, alluring woman chose me, even when things were difficult. I wasn’t used to that. I was used to feeling desperate, clinging to women who wanted nothing more than to run away the harder I held on.

But Bee wasn’t going anywhere, even when I gave her an out. She was worried about me and my safety, even though her life was on the line, too. It was shocking, but I was beginning to believe it.

Bee was breaking away from her family. She destroyed that betrayal of a watch her father gifted her so he could spy on her. She came to me over and over. She was fucking shot at and somehow was still at my side. Cuddling.

I looked down at her, and this beautiful woman was already looking up at me, a soft smile on her lips. She always seemed so soft, so sweet, so feminine. But I could see her head standing tall on her neck, back straight and self-assured.

Instead of the gentle femininity of a someone still finding herself, Bee was radiating the beautiful womanly confidence of someone who knew her place in the world. I could see the fire in her eyes and the power in her soul.

Some stupid little curse wasn’t going to do her in.

I put a finger under her chin, holding her face up toward mine, and leaned my lips into hers. And that beautiful, breathy sigh she let out was like coming home, like we were finally right where we were meant to be.

Her hands came up to touch me, one palm on my neck with her fingers in my hair and the other on my chest. And man, it felt good to have her hands on me without feeling like I needed to stop her. I kissed her slowly, savoring, reacquainting myself with the taste of her mouth and the feel of her in my arms. I swept her up onto my lap, ready to enjoy the feel of her again after six fucking weeks of missing her desperately.

Letting go of all my baggage and worry and self-doubt was fucking freeing. It felt like the first night, but with the conviction that came with feeling how right everything was with Bee times a thousand. I understood her deeply, intimately, almost from the second I met her, but with the added knowledge of her life, the family she grew up with…

It seemed impossible that she was still here with me, loving me despite everything. Bee was everything for me, and I wouldn’t waste any more of the time I had with her. I didn’t feel the uncertainty or fear for the future when I had my hands on her skin and felt her fingers raking through my hair.

We kissed for what felt like an eternity, until eventually her hands shifted to my shoulders so she could adjust herself to straddle me. I took it as my cue to savor her in a different way.

My hands slid across her body to her back, holding her up against me as my lips moved down her throat. She hummed in appreciation, tilting her head to the side so I had more room to lavish her with affection.

I paused my explorations to remove the hoodie, and she took a page out of my book to grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it up my chest. I raised my arms so she could take it off fully.

And then I let out a moan because this woman leaned forward and started kissing my chest and rubbing my nipples. No one had ever taken the time to play with my fucking nipples before.

Only for the briefest second did I let the doubt creep in, remembering the fear that Henry Cavill and I were inadequate for her, but no. Bee loved me, and even if I doubted that—which I didn’t—she was literally all over me, excited to touch me, and the fire in her eyes when she met mine let me know she was just as into this as I was.

I let my fingers creep under the back of her shirt, feeling her soft skin and pressing her harder against me. She moaned as she rubbed up against Henry Cavill through my jeans, and he reached for her, missing the feel of her warmth. I guided her face back to mine, tongue meeting hers in languid strokes that quickly became urgent.

Time to be clear about my intentions.

“Bee, I’d really like to touch you. May I?”

“Yes please.”

“In places inappropriate for public,” I clarified.

“Same,” she said, a wicked look in her eyes as she led my hand under the hem of her skirt.

“As you wish,” I said.

I put the rest of the fears and worries out of my head and felt my way past her panties to her pussy. She was already wet and ready for me.

She bucked against me as I felt her clit, gasped as I slipped a finger inside her, taking it out just enough to smooth that beautiful wetness around, then added a second finger.

They say that kissing can be the best foreplay, and I fully believed that, because Bee was hot and ready, eagerly moving with me, moaning into my mouth as I worked her up and held her tight as she rode the waves of her first orgasm. Thank god.

She laid her head against my shoulder as she recovered, and I twisted my hand free to lick my fingers. Delicious.

She lifted her head to kiss me again, but I halted her so I could help her out of her borrowed shirt first, then laid her back so I could pull her skirt and panties down her legs. Her hands went to my belt, and I let her rip it open, let her pop open the button of my jeans and slide the zipper down. I even let her use her cute little toes to push the jeans down my hips. I wasn’t ready to make love to her yet, but if my girl wanted to get me undressed, then I was more than happy to free Henry Cavill from his denim-clad prison.

But we were just getting started. I hadn’t even made her scream yet.

She pulled my cock all the way free from my boxers, and her hands felt so good, so warm and soft and beautiful as they slid up and down my length. I sat back before I blew my load too early, taking a moment to pull my jeans all the way off.

Then I stood and offered her my hand, ever the gentleman, to guide her back to my bedroom, enjoying the wiggle of her ass while her hips swayed in front of me.

I was determined to make it clear in her mind and my own that I didn’t have any worries about this aspect of our relationship. For every one orgasm I got, I wanted her to have three so I never had to doubt that Henry and I could satisfy this gorgeous creature. I put on my game face, remembered my goal, and followed behind her.

One down, two to go.