17. The First Lead
seventeen
The First Lead
By the time they left the courthouse, Mikey wanted nothing more than to spread his new wife over the nearest semi-suitable surface. So to say he was aggravated to receive news that Ramires had taken a turn and they were short on time if they wanted to get anything out of the man was an understatement. One of Cristiano’s so-called guesthouses, where he tended to keep the captives they hoped to keep alive for a while, was about the last place Mikey wanted to be on his wedding day.
Yet, there he was.
Ryōma met them in what passed for a front room, furnished and generally kept clean. He offered Mikey a grin. “Sorry to put a damper on your big day.”
Mikey grunted. “It’s not like we rushed the ceremony. He still breathing?”
“Congratulations, then,” Ryōma said, grinning wider for a beat before his expression sobered. “Breathing, yes. It’s a raspy, gurgling sound, you can’t miss it. Conscious is a different story. That comes and goes. I’ve been letting him rest.”
“Fantastic.”
Cristiano rolled his neck, stretching. “We should be able to keep him awake for a few minutes if we need to. But the sooner we start, the better.” He nodded to his friend. “You’re on guard duty.”
Mikey let his cousin take the lead into the back of the house. Interrogations weren’t usually his thing. He’d been brought in on this one because Ramires was rumored to be the Ink Blots’ tech brain and no one wanted to lose a lead because something he’d said had gone over their heads. Whether or not Ramires would say anything coherent, let alone start speaking in code, Mikey had no idea. He would have been fine sending one of his men for the job, even, if not for the one other detail he didn’t know how to put into words.
Ramires had tried to turn Brandi against him, and when that had failed, he’d taken a shot at her. He’d had a better line of fire on Cristiano, or the two men who’d shot him, but he’d aimed through a windshield—ignoring two guns already pointed at him—and pulled the trigger. Was it as simple as blind rage over the failure of his plan? Or was there some other reason Ramires had chosen to try and take Brandi out with him rather than any of the armed men flanking him?
Getting him talking was the only way to know. Mikey understood that. He also understood that of all the questions, that couldn’t be priority. No matter how angry it made him.
“There’s our patient,” Cristiano said as they stepped into a brightly lit room with a beeping heart monitor.
Mikey’s gaze swept over the room, taking in the furniture placement and making note of the man in the bed. The quilt was folded down to just above Ramires’s waist and his upper body was bare, revealing a seemingly random design of tattoos forever marred with scars from bullets and fresh incisions. His eyes were closed, but any rest he was getting was fitful if the rapid movement of his eyes beneath his lids were any indication.
Cris moved up to the supplies the doctor would have left behind and picked up a prepared syringe. “You want to wait out in the hall until I get him talking?”
Mikey scowled. “I’m not a kid.”
Cris paused and glanced over at him. “I know that.” His eyes crinkled with an invisible smile. “Didn’t want to assume what happened with Richardson wasn’t a fluke.”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re proud of me for fileting a man.”
“Of course I am.” Cris stepped up to the IV and carefully placed the needle into the attached port. “I have a whole new respect for you after witnessing that. Doesn’t matter if you only did it to protect a specific person or because he interrupted your day off. You had the nerve to see it through and did it like a fuckin’ pro.”
“I’m going to suggest to Big Brother that we retire you. The way you talk is starting to concern me.” Mikey let his gaze shift to the heart monitor in time to watch the rate spike.
Cris chuckled, set the syringe aside, and positioned himself so that he and Mikey would both be in Ramires’s line of sight. Not that that was hard in the small room.
There was a delayed second in which Gustavo Ramires stared blankly out at them, his eyes only half open. In an instant his demeanor changed and he jerked up, attempting to throw himself backward, only to be stopped by obvious pain and the oh-so-ironic shackles around his wrists. He let out a breathless grunt and collapsed onto the mattress. “Just … fucking … kill me.”
“Now, why would we do that, Gus?” Cris asked. He reached out and clamped a heavy hand onto Ramires’s ankle. “We’ve waited so long to meet you.”
Mikey walked around to the side of the bed, bringing himself approximately back into Ramires’s periphery. “You fucked up, Ramires. Tell me what the hell you wanted with my woman.”
Ramires made a sound like an attempt at a chuckle, his lips contorting. “Don’t you mean fiancée ? She’s not so good with secrets, that one.”
“That was yesterday,” Mikey said, rolling the metal he still wasn’t used to wearing between his fingers. “And if you thought mine and Brandi’s relationship is supposed to be a secret, then you’re the one who was misinformed.”
Ramires’s chest heaved. “Your bad taste, De Salvo.”
Mikey’s eyes narrowed.
Ramires arched up as if he were in pain, sucking in a sharp breath, arms attempting to flail.
Mikey looked down and saw Cris pressing a small, sturdy bludgeon into their captive’s knee. It must have been one of the tools that had been left behind.
“You don’t have a clear understanding of this situation, Gus,” Cris said. “We could still get you the medical help you need. You could still live through this—but only if you talk, real fast, real honest.” He dragged the heavy end of the weapon down Ramires’s shin and tapped in warning over the man’s ankle. “How ‘bout we start with the hard stuff, so the rest of this conversation gets easier? We want Coughlan. Where do we find him, and what do you know about who he keeps with him?”
Right. Mikey was upset about Brandi’s abduction, but that had only been a small piece of a larger puzzle. This was the biggest chance they’d ever had to solve that puzzle. He needed to not lose sight of that.
Ramires pulled in a breath and laughed forcefully. The sound was wet, raspy, and increasingly phlegmy, but he laughed until he couldn’t any longer. “Y-you dumb fucks,” he said, gasping for breath, “are dead. You got that?” He rolled his head to smirk sloppily at Mikey, revealing that his eyes had begun to glass over already. “Too bad … for your … bitch.” His chest deflated with the final word he’d clearly fought to push out and his pupils disappeared behind his half-mast lids.
The heart monitor screamed a moment later.
“Fuck,” Cris said. He let the tool fall to the bed and moved to silence the machine.
“Goddammit,” Mikey said with a grunt, taking a step back from the bed. “Is that really all he had in him?”
“Doc did say he didn’t have much left,” Cris replied. He faced the bed and folded his arms across his chest. “This was probably a waste of our time. I doubt he was really even aware of what we were saying.”
Mikey cursed again and turned away. “I’m going home. Call me if there’s something actually useful to do.” He had not followed Cris halfway across Newark, in the opposite direction of anywhere he remotely wanted to be, for a waste of his time.
Logically, he knew this kind of shit happened. Especially for the men who did the ugly work. He even recognized he was the one with the fraying temper. None of that understanding pacified him as he ducked back behind the wheel of his car and swung into traffic. He called Brandi from the road, the action simultaneously reminding him that she needed a proper replacement phone, too.
“Hey,” she greeted. “You can’t possibly be done already.”
“Wasn’t worth the drive,” he replied. “Where are you?” She was supposed to have gotten a ride home, but his family was always liable to have changed things on him. For that matter, so was his wife.
His chest tightened. He hadn’t thought that word would mean much to him, but he was already seeing where he’d been wrong.
“Home,” Brandi said. “Your mom stayed for a few minutes and made sure to say she loves the way the flowers brighten the place up.”
He switched lanes and thought he felt some of the tension slip away. “But she left?”
“I just stepped back inside from watching her drive out.”
Mikey drew a deliberate breath, having to make an effort not to over accelerate. “I’m five minutes away. Pick a room and wait for me.”
He thought he heard her breath hitch before she asked, “Whatever room I choose?”
“Whatever room, kitten.”
“See you soon, husband.” The line clicked and he felt his lips twist in a feral grin.
Brandi didn’t even hesitate to make her way to Mikey’s office. It was where he spent the most time, and would probably continue to do so. She wanted to leave a mark of her own, of some kind, in this space. And she couldn’t think of any better answer to that urge than marriage consummation sex.
He didn’t have a bed in the office, and they’d already fooled around on the sofa in the den more than once, but this would be different. She wasn’t entirely sure how he’d tie her up, but he’d told her only to worry about choosing the room. So that was all she was going to dwell on.
She smoothed her hands down the front of her makeshift wedding gown and let her gaze linger on the beautiful diamond shining on her finger. This feeling fluttering in her stomach was not at all what she’d expected after she’d agreed to marry Michele De Salvo. She recognized the sensation as excitement.
“Love should make you happy.” Felicity’s words from that morning whispered through her mind as she waited.
Was she happy? She wiggled the ring against her skin. It was too soon to say for sure. She’d definitely been less happy. And she sure as hell couldn’t deny her attraction. She was perched on the edge of a sofa in a half-lit office, waiting for a man who’d originally only promised her protection to arrive and hopefully fuck her senseless for crying out loud.
She heard him moments before he strode into the room, his loafers practically echoing in the hall. Her heart leaped to her chest and she found herself wondering what expression settled on her face when she drank in the sight of him. He was more or less as he’d been at the courthouse, though he’d discarded his tie and his blazer and undone the top button of his dress shirt.
The door clicked behind him as his bright, burning blue eyes locked onto hers. “Interesting choice.”
Brandi smiled. “This room still needs the most … me .”
He didn’t bother glancing around as he continued toward her, already reaching for his belt. “Does it?” He let his gaze rove over her. “Stand up, kitten.”
She stood without argument, her body warming at the mere nearness of his and that roughened tone in his voice.
“What are you wearing under that?”
“A thong, sir,” Brandi answered. Her voice softened without conscious intention, but she didn’t try to correct herself.
He rumbled in a way that could only be appreciative. “Untie the top and let it fall. Let me see those gorgeous tits.”
Brandi complied immediately, goosebumps that had nothing to do with the comfortable temperature in the room raising on her skin as the top portion of the gown tumbled down. She would have worn a strapless bra, but the back of the dress dipped too low for the only one she owned. She had felt self-conscious about it for a moment, earlier, but the look in Mikey’s eyes as she stood before him technically topless made her feel entirely different. Beautiful and wanted.
He groaned and stepped closer, taking her breasts in both hands and molding them with surprising gentleness. He bent forward and ran his lips and tongue along each, one boob at a time, lavishing attention on her nipples until she was breathless. “Such fucking perfect tits,” he said, as if talking to himself. His thumbs circled her areola and his eyes locked onto hers. “You belong to me, from this moment forward. Every fucking inch of you is mine. Understand?”
Her lips parted, but it took her a second to find her voice. “Y-yes, sir.”
Mikey released her chest to wrap an arm around her back, wedged another hand into her hair, and hauled her up to his lips for a deep, searing kiss. He may have branded her very soul as his tongue stroked across hers.
She was breathless and unreasonably hot when he retreated. She wanted desperately for him to throw her down and have his way with her until her brain went blank. “Sir, please—”
He trailed his kisses along her jaw, until his lips were beneath her ear, and murmured, “I know what you need, kitten.” His hands swept over her back and he straightened. “Arms behind your back,” he said as he reached again for his belt, this time ripping it from the loops at his waist entirely.
Heat flashed through her and Brandi folded her arms behind herself quickly.
Mikey leaned around her, letting her breasts press into and drag against his shirt-covered front while he wound his belt around her wrists. Once the leather was to his liking, he stroked his fingers up her arms, down her sides, and over her boobs one more time. His thumbs teased her nipples and he smirked at her gasp.
Then he let go, turned, and in quick movements he had freed himself from his slacks and taken a seat on the sofa. His cock stood at attention, precum glistening like a pearl at the tip. He patted his thigh. “Come here and straddle me,” he said. “I’ll help you balance. I want you to ride me with that dress on.”
Brandi licked her lips and did as he asked. With her hands bound she needed his help sliding the skirt up her legs, and there was no doubt in her mind he’d wanted it that way. He dragged his hands—and the material—sensually up her thighs slow enough to make her moan as they worked her legs into position on either side of his.
With one hand on her hip, Mikey held her over him and reached between her thighs. He teased the scrap of her thong before slipping his fingers beneath it and stroking over her slit. He groaned. “So fucking wet.” He pushed two fingers into her, only halfway. She shuddered and he grinned wider. “Tell me whose pussy this is. Tell me who it aches for.”
Brandi gasped, her fingers reaching for open air at her back. “It—it’s my husband’s pussy. It aches for you, sir.”
Mikey growled, moving his hand to pull her thong properly aside, and then he tugged her down as his hips snapped up. He punched the air out of her as he filled her almost viciously, grinding her down against his pelvis with both hands anchored at the curve of her waist. “That’s my good girl,” he finally said. She swore she felt him twitch inside her. “My wife’s pussy aches for her husband’s cock.” He leaned forward, hands sliding over the skin at her back, and dragged his lips over her jaw. “Fuck, kitten. You like this as much as I do.”
She couldn’t deny it. He’d barley moved and she was teetering on the brink, yet at the same time, she was nowhere near ready to be done.
Mikey stretched out a hand and latched on to her bound wrists, using the hold to arch her back as he started rocking his hips. “You’re the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.” He held her with his other hand only tight enough to help her meet his slapping thrusts and stars began to burst behind her eyes.
He tugged her down onto him, dragging against her at the perfect angle, and Brandi felt the first tremor roll through her. There was no way she would be able to resist coming if he did that a second time.
Mikey tugged abruptly at the leather around her wrists, releasing them without warning, and yanked her upright. He slammed his mouth to hers and allowed her to plunge her fingers into his hair greedily. They kissed as he continued pumping into her, the slightly altered angle just enough to keep her from falling for another precious moment. Then he twisted them around and laid her down on the sofa, hefting one of her legs up high and allowing himself to drive deeper than before inside her.
Brandi cried out, her nails biting into his shoulders through the shirt he still wore.
“Come for me, kitten,” Mikey finally whispered, his lips teasing her skin. “And scream my name when you do.”
Her breath faltered for a single second at the instruction, but when his cock slammed into her again, she had no choice. His name tore from her lips as her body arched and clenched around his, her vision going white as blissful heat overwhelmed her senses.
The echo of Mikey’s roar drew her back to earth. He was still breathing heavily above her, still fully sheathed inside her. “Fuck, kitten. That was beautiful.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth, shifting himself enough to let her leg down to a comfortable height without crushing her with his weight.
Brandi wound her arms around his torso and held on as tightly as her post-orgasmic muscles would allow. “Now you’ll … think of me … in here, too.”
He snorted. “Now I have a reason to sleep in my actual bed.” He lowered his lips to her neck. “Might be hell on my workload, though.” His tongue darted out, teasing the hollow of her throat. “Think I want to strip you out of this dress and go again. Anywhere else you want to make more memories in?”
She laughed even as another wave of desire lashed through her. “It’s a big house,” she heard herself whisper. “There are lots of rooms that need—”
Something that sounded suspiciously like a phone interrupted her words and drew a low, not-sexy growl from the man above her. A very firm reminder that it was the middle of the workday and they had originally intended to actually be contributing adults that afternoon.
With a sigh that sounded like a half grunt, Mikey dislodged himself from her and tugged the strap of her thong back into place over her center. For what good it would do. His fingers were messy when he pulled his hand out, and before he could ask, Brandi grabbed his hand and pulled both digits into her mouth to lick them clean. Just because he had to answer the phone didn’t mean her mouth had to be free.
He gave her a heated look as he dug his phone out of the cushion it had fallen behind and caught the call. “What?” His tone was much too clipped to be one of his respected elder brothers. Then again, she doubted they would be calling so soon unless it was a dire emergency.
Brandi released his hand when she was done with her self-assigned project and reached to resecure her dress top, but Mikey caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. Okay… He wanted to stare at her boobs while he was on the phone. Or maybe he thought they didn’t have to stop after all?
“Forward all of it to me,” he said to whoever he was speaking to. “I’ll go through it when I get back into the office.” He set the phone on the opposite arm of the sofa, on speaker, and pulled her to her feet.
Brandi raised a brow at him silently as a male voice she didn’t recognize spoke through the phone.
“Right, of course. I just thought you would want to know right away, ‘cause there’s a number here that looks like it might still be active. It’s labeled ‘boss,’ but it’s definitely not a Jersey number, you know?”
Mikey had turned her while the other male was speaking and set about re-tying her dress for her, answering her confusion on that, but his hands stilled for a single moment at the caller’s words. “Isolate everything related to that number and prioritize getting that information to me,” he said sharply. “I want everything you can get off the system, but that takes precedence, do you understand?” He finished securing the halter, his movements staying gentle despite the harsher tone that had slipped into his voice.
Brandi gave him her best curious look when she faced him again, noting he’d tucked himself away. He pulled her into his chest as if hugging her with one arm, lifting the phone with the other.
“Yes, sir. I’ll get it to you as fast as I can,” the voice said before disconnecting.
“What was that?” Brandi asked after the phone landed on the couch again.
“That,” Mikey said, releasing a heavy breath, “was the lead you gave us. Tech team’s finally gotten into the onboard computer from Ramires’s car.” He smiled at her. The expression was a strange combination of excitement and wariness, but she recognized that it was genuine all the same. “Even if the line’s no good now, it’s the most we’ve had since his name came up last year. And that’s all thanks to you, kitten.” His hands came up to cup her cheeks and he kissed her without warning.
The kiss was different somehow. Warmer and gentler, yet in no way less sincere. Something about it brought tears to her eyes. Brandi kissed him back, trying to match his energy, and then it was over and his hands lowered to her hips.
“So, I take it we’re going back to the office, then?”
“Necessary evil,” Mikey said. He gave her a squeeze. “Go change.” His gaze darkened in a way that made her skin tingle. “But don’t you dare wash up.”
Brandi grinned, leaned up onto her toes, and pressed her lips to his ear. “Yes, sir.”