27. Persistent Pain In My Ass
27
Persistent Pain In My Ass
ALICE
With an irritable huff, I rolled over and tossed my head onto the pillow for what had to be the hundredth time in the last few hours. Every inch of my body was restless with the need to act—to do something of value—which made attempting sleep a unique form of torture. This is why so many people live to run. Hell, if my mind didn’t settle, the treadmill downstairs was sounding more and more appealing. It could at least provide the momentary illusion of forward progress where there was none.
After their very direct attack on our family’s legacy, Thunderstrike was moving on Obsidian in a matter of hours. Their primary focus would be homed in on the Gilbert family within our city. I might not have been privy to every scrap of information Greyson’s men had on Neal and Odessa Gilbert, but I had enough to fear this going very wrong. What they’d shared with me was damning evidence of their involvement in laundering Obsidian ’s capital and ongoing connections with the organization’s higher-ups, the least of which was Noel’s ex’s family. I’d never imagined living a life where a man who nearly kills his partner in a scramble to keep control is the least of the evils. But they were all right there—under our noses, plastered over tabloids the people salivated to get their hands on. The devil in plain sight.
“ Breathe , beautiful,” Greyson ordered huskily. The man was even bossy about how I should rest. Somehow, that was annoying, adorable, and entirely on brand for him. “I’ve got you. Get some sleep.”
“ You’re awake,” I pointed out, earning a snort of amusement a beat before the mattress silently shifted below his weight as he rolled over to scoop me into his arms, dragging my body into the warm cocoon of his. With a sigh, I relaxed into the muscled embrace of my husband as he peppered kisses over my shoulder.
“My men are running point to keep my family safe when I can’t,” he said bitterly. “Of course, I’m awake.”
“What’s yours is mine, handsome.”
“Evidently, that includes apprehension.”
“It would seem so.”
“You need to rest.”
“ You need to rest,” I retorted petulantly. “Your strength was always your mind, Grey. Not your muscle. Your guys need you thinking clearly.”
“My part in this is done now that the feds are involved. Max doesn’t waste time when it counts. I like that about him.”
Did I preen a little knowing that my best friend had been an invaluable tool in dismantling the Gilbert’s fortress of stone? Duh . The man was about as brilliant as my husband. The two of them, plus Jax, had compiled a list that was concerning enough to demand that their contacts in the FBI take immediate action.
“They’re going in tonight?” I confirmed, chest tight with the idea of my storm cloud of a bodyguard out there risking his life to bring down a web of psychopaths alongside a handful of his guys, Detective Rivera, and local brass.
“Just waiting for the call that it’s done.” He shifted his weight a little, ribs nearly still against mine.
“Jax will be fine,” I assured, and he nodded against my back before pressing another kiss to my bare skin. “He’ll be back here glaring at us over morning coffee.”
“Yeah,” he agreed curtly, voice too tight to lend me any sense of comfort. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to say, but he was holding it close to his chest instead. For a moment, my selfish bitch of a heart was just unspeakably grateful I didn’t have to wait at home praying to get a call from Greyson. Then my stomach climbed up to lodge in my throat, because odds were there were partners waiting in this city. Waiting for loved ones that may or may not make it home. Judging by their assassination attempt, Obsidian was no less equipped than we were.
Eyes burning, I rotated in his arms so I could bury my face against his chest, inhaling his musk, soaking up his warmth as I reassured myself he was here. That we’d done everything we could to give our men the best chance at a clean sting and quick wrap-up. I just couldn’t shake this niggling sensation that we’d missed something critical. Like a worm burrowing its way into my brain, I fought back the discordant voices in my mind. This late in the game, all I could do was trust the process, give thanks my man was safely wrapped around me, and pray everyone fighting for us made it home safely.
“I can think of more enjoyable ways to pass the time,” he promised as his hands roamed south, earning a disbelieving giggle.
“You can’t be serious,” I teased.
“Am I ever not ?” he countered. I was about to say point taken, but his warm palm reached my clit, and I sucked down a breath instead.
“What do you want to do when this whole operation is over?” I breathed, laughing when he groaned and clamped his teeth down on my shoulder before answering.
“My Belle, I have my hand on your pussy, and you think I’m giving a single fucking thought to anything else?”
Grinning, I shook my head. “You’re trouble.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Now, answer the question.”
“Persistent pain in my ass,” he growled.
“Always. But you knew that when you married me.”
“Fantastic point. When this is over, I’m taking you back to our island,” he said, a delightful smile lacing promise through his voice. He moved his mouth closer to my ear, my neck tickling with the heat of his words. “I’m finally going to fuck you on that beach and again in the shower with the glass wall overlooking the ocean—I’ll press you up against that window and make you scream my name.” Leisurely, he pressed a finger inside me and began a steady pump, arousal stirring in my center. “Make you come in every corner I’ve fantasized about since that first day I tasted you.”
“And then?” I pressed, already more breathless than I cared to admit. The idea of him hammering home with my breasts against the cold glass as I watched those cerulean waves was ridiculously tantalizing. Something about being pinned beneath the strength of this man undid me quicker than anything else.
In answer, he ground his palm over my clit as he curled his finger. “Then, I’m cracking open a bottle of Macallan and your favorite Riesling—what was that little Vineyard you loved so much in Massachusetts?”
“ Marion Cline ?” I gasped like an imbecile, thighs shaking with the pleasure he wrung from me as they clamped over his hand. A satisfied hum rumbled in his chest.
“Ahhh, yes. The one with the turret. We’ll open a Marion Cline Riesling. And then watch the sun go down until I can bend you over that sofa and memorize the sounds you make as you shatter under the night sky. Maybe we’ll sleep under the stars and pretend this world doesn’t exist.”
“S-sounds good,” I stammered, grinding against his palm in a desperate hunt for friction when he slipped his finger free to add a second. Greyson trailed his free hand up my thigh and under my silky nightgown until his hand found my breast, kneading it before giving the nipple a little tweak. He just clamped his teeth over the junction between my neck and shoulder when his phone rang, and we both sucked down a breath.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered, unwinding our limbs and bringing his fingers to his mouth to suck my juices from them before turning to grab his cell. He blew out a breath before confirming who was calling with his curt greeting. “Reynolds?” He was quiet for a long beat before blowing out a relieved-sounding sigh. “Casualties?” There was another pause as my ears strained to pick up every other word Jax rattled off in a blunt procession, but this time, he buried his face in my neck as he listened. “ Thank fuck. ” His entire body relaxed into mine; that one sign finally allowed me to inhale properly. “Well done, Jax. This is huge …That’s our biggest bust yet. Now, give the feds what they need and get your asses home.” His chuckle followed a very Peanuts’ teacher version of what I was ninety percent positive was I don’t take orders from you. “Fuck off. Get over here, and we’ll pour a drink to victory.” The instant they disconnected, he tossed his phone onto the floor and a peal of laughter tore from my throat as he flipped me onto my back.
Greyson
Alice’s squeal of laughter was better than music to my ears. Both Neal and Odessa were in custody, along with a lengthy list of their security personnel and a handful of executives. Better yet, nearly thirty victims had been recovered through various points in our city.
Alice was safe. At least from the immediate threat. The others would fall like dominoes if Jax and I had a say in it.
Safe .
My bride was safe.
“Greyson!” she yelped as I nipped my way down her neck, hands firm on her belly, making her squirm as I worked my way over her frame.
“We’re safe, baby. Jax gave the all-clear.”
“So, I don’t need my grumpy shadow anymore?”
Smirking, I bit down a little harder and growled, “Nice try, princess.”
“Dammit,” she breathed, but she was arching her spine, dropping her head to the mattress to expose her throat. Fucking hell. Cock growing painfully hard, I reached a hand up to bracket her neck, relishing in the little whimper the simple sign of ownership earned.
Mine .
This woman was mine. She showed it in her relentless pursuit of excellence and in her steadfast, righteous support through the trials Thunderstrike brought into our lives, right down to her vulnerability here in our room. She watched with bright doe eyes as I reared back to shuck off my pajamas, quick to comply when I told her, “Up on your knees for me, baby.”
Crushing her lips with mine, I beat back the fear, the questions, the absolute terror of the last week and relished in the feeling of her in my palms. Her soft waist, generous hips, and strong thighs. The breathy hitch of her inhale as my fingers found her slick pussy. “Always so responsive,” I noted.
It was as though her body was forged for me—quick to meld into my touch and just as apt to let me know when she was wanting. “That’s my good girl, my beautiful wife .”
A whimper escaped her, and I settled my hands on her waist, turning her around. Alice was always so quick to shift gears, to allow my hands to lead her where I wanted her. It was as though she got off on pleasing me, and that idea was enough to destroy even the strongest man. In tune with what I needed, she bent at the waist, quickly on her hands and knees for me as I closed the distance, bringing the creamy skin of her ass and thighs flush against me as I bunched the silk dress up around her waist.
Her damn nightgowns would be the death of me. It was all I could imagine any moment my schedule had a brief gap. One minute, I was dismissing a meeting or hanging up the phone, but when my eyes closed, it was Alice on her knees for me in that deep blue V-neck. Alice , splayed across our bed, gold silk draped over her chest as her lips parted. Alice , one blush strap askew, her pert breast and dusky nipple entirely erect as she threw her head back, and I dove to suck her peaked flesh into my mouth.
She was my obsession. And someone thought they could threaten her to get to me. There was a creeping sense of terror that Neal Gilbert wouldn’t be the last motherfucker to set their sights on my wife. But it crashed against the stubborn determination that we’d always keep her safe. But for now, I just needed to worship the woman who’d stolen my focus as she robbed me of my heart.
I reached down to run the head of my dick over her slick entrance, teasing her clit and relishing in the sound of her mewled response. She leaned back into me, and I didn’t hesitate. In one harsh thrust, I bottomed out inside her wet heat, holding her hips as I fought to keep control of my impending release. Her tight channel had barely gripped my cock, and I was already dripping pre-cum inside her. The sensation of Alice riding me bare would never lose its novelty. The woman gripped my dick tighter with every desperate claiming thrust. With every squeeze of her hips.
“ Greyson ,” she gasped as my hips snapped forward again. She could say my name like a plea a million times in this life, and it would never be enough.
Safe . She was safe. And she was mine.
Collapsing onto her forearms, Alice bowed her head into her hands, her silky chocolate strands melting into a pool in her palms as my pace increased. The soft window light cast shadows over her delectable curves—an incendiary beauty, like she’d combust, and I’d thank her as she took me to the next life.
“Please,” she begged, although she didn’t specify what she needed. More friction? For me to drive into her harder? Some combination of the two?
With my broad palms on her ass, I squeezed into her soft flesh, snapping my hips deeper with each movement. Bit by bit, piece by piece, I would dismantle the walls she’d built around herself, demanding she let me in. Some animal need to possess every inch of her, to know every curve and wall took over my body, urging me to deliver a kind of pleasure she’d never known before me. Would only know with me.
Alice’s cry had my dick weeping against her walls, but it still wasn’t enough. I slid free of her channel to gather her arousal, sliding it up to the pleated rim of her perfect ass. Sliding my cock back into her center, I circled that forbidden temptation with my thumb, lubing the skin before hesitantly pressing against that ring of resistance.
Alice moaned . The sound alone nearly had me spraying my load inside her.
Head thrown back, she sucked down breath like her life depended on it, and then arched her back, leaning into me and lifting that delectable ass in offering.
“You are so fucking sexy,” I snarled, stilling inside her. I gently pressed into her tight ring of muscle, hesitating when she gasped. Her walls nearly yanked my orgasm free as they clamped down around my dick. Before I could ask her anything, she was arching into me again, urging me on, begging for more.
“ Please , Greyson,” she mewled, nodding her head in encouragement.
“Damn, baby. You want me to fill you up?”
“Please,” she begged again, more desperately this time. Gingerly, I slunk deeper inside her tight little ass, a shudder rocking through me, my dick twitching eagerly as her ravenous moan encouraged my newfound exploration. I slid my other hand down her spine and back to her hip. God damn, she was fucking perfect for me. Returning to our previous pace, I savored every thrust, every moan and cry of ecstasy as she filled our room with her pleasure. Her walls fluttered around my cock, ass tight as I slowly eased my thumb in and out at a gentle rhythm. Mine. Alice was mine. And I would destroy any motherfucker stupid enough to set sights on her.
None of it mattered in the end. Not the business. Not the operation. Not the life I’d known for thirty-five years before she said yes to my insane proposition in her kitchen.
Just this.
Us.
Her .
In the end, the only thing that I would take to my grave was my memory of Alessandra Hart.
My wife.
When she shattered around me, the heat beneath my skin became an inferno, and I followed her over the edge with a roar.
The room at the end of the hall had long collected dust, painfully vacant, like a reminder of my life. Not anymore. Never again, if I had anything to say about it.
The walls were now covered in mounted charcoal sketches and splashes of color over canvas. Alice spent her evenings unwinding in a collection of acrylics and pastels, and sketches she swore were trash, but that had me mesmerized. One piece at a time, she’d made the room hers—her easel and stool by the windows overlooking the ocean. The oversized fuzzy chair in the corner with an equally fluffy blanket and her books now filling the wall of shelves.
Our week was full of end-of-summer wrap-ups and the beginning of fourth-quarter clients, in addition to the clean-up after Thunderstrike delivered retribution on my behalf. As satisfying as it likely would have been to pay a visit to the Gilbert’s in their new cinderblock home, I didn’t need to validate why their threats had been effective.
They knew. Just as they knew who’d put them in there, and if they had a fraction as many brain cells as dollars seized by the U.S. government, they also knew I’d put them down if it came to that, without hesitation.
We’d filled our evenings with entertaining the Rhodes—boating, touring the city, and a match of football on the Emerald Bay field.
So, it was more than a little heartwarming to follow a comedic trail of her possessions through the foyer and down the hallway when I got back Friday evening. Like a nod to our normal routine, her shoes were halfheartedly discarded feet apart, followed by her blazer draped over an armchair beside the one painting she’d purchased for the hallway. By the time I crept through the cracked open door, I’d collected her discarded jewelry from a sofa table my assistant acquired at an auction a few years back.
With her music blaring—Hozier, if my memory served me well—and her eyes trained on the canvas on its stand, she focused with a statue’s stillness. With a firefly’s grace, she flitted forward to swirl a brush across the blue before stepping back and canting her head. She almost moved to the melody, like a well-rehearsed dance, as she nonchalantly added more color to the painting. I studied it then, smiling as I recognized the undeniable beginning of our island. The beach where our lives were irreparably altered.
“It’s perfect,” I said softly, smirking as she jumped and faced me.
“Christ, Grey. Make a noise .”
“I did. Several, actually. You just didn’t hear me.”
“In the zone, I guess.”
“Our beach?” When she nodded her confirmation, color flushed her cheeks. I would never tire of seeing her blush for me. “You ready for tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” she sighed, the sound a bit jittery. “I don’t know why I’m nervous; it’s not me playing on that field.”
“Because you want your brother to be successful. That’s admirable if you ask me.”
“Pax has fought so hard for this.”
“I know.”
“The Wolves got him two Super Bowl rings.”
“Doesn’t mean he can’t lead the Bombers to their first in decades.”
She smiled at that, rubbing the back of her hand over her face and leaving a smear of teal across her cheek. Laughing, I closed the distance to wipe her face clean.
“That’s for you,” she said, nodding to the painting.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I thought it could go in our room.”
“Finally get rid of that heartless, modern catastrophe you hate so much?”
This smile she didn’t bother to hide. “ Maybe ,” she replied, her arched brow and spark of challenge in her eyes making me laugh.
“Thank you. The other bores me to tears, anyway.”
“As it should,” she declared snootily before raising a hand to cup my face, stroking her thumb over my cheekbone and leaving a damp trail in her wake. Her eyes widened as I deadpanned, a nervous giggle rising up her throat as I lunged.
Paxton Rhodes threw for five hundred and nine passing yards his first game on the Emerald Bay field, and the packed arena lost their minds. And with good reason—another fifty yards would’ve made history.
With each throw, the fans grew more feral. By the time he shot a canon of a pass to none other than Dallas Miller for the game-winning touchdown, the team was just as ecstatic, rushing the field in celebration.
Royce, who’d spent most of the game shooting concerned daggers at his phone as he checked on Miranda, actually leaped to his feet beside me as Miller crossed the end zone. He turned to me with his hands up for dual high-fives.
“Holy shit, man!”
“Is it too soon to say we’re back?” I boasted. He shook his head, blond hair swaying. But there was a disconnect in his eyes as if he wasn’t really with us. Worry creased his brow.
I didn’t get to ask any questions, because Alice and her siblings instantly reduced to hysteria—hugging and bouncing about.
Oliver’s grin met mine over her shoulder as she rocked back and forth in an Elora-Leighton sandwich. The girls yelled with more ferocity than the cruelest of coaches the entire game, and Elora had the mouth of a sailor on her. Hell, all six of them did.
Fitting, I supposed.
“I hate that Miranda missed this,” he lamented, shaking his head. His wife had stayed home, not feeling well. This close to her due date, they’d decided it was better to get some rest. I couldn’t blame them.
“She doing any better?” I asked as Rhyett and Maverick both patted my back when they stepped behind me, making a beeline for the doorway. This was certainly the busiest the Hart family box had ever been, shy of the occasional corporate networking event.
Concern lined Royce’s eyes as he shook his head. “She said she was going to try and nap, but I haven’t heard from her since.”
“Get your ass home,” I barked. “Go check on your girls.”
“Still determined it’s a girl?”
“If I’ve learned anything in the last few months, it’s that Alice is always right.”
“Hold on,” that familiar voice had me grinning as my eyes closed. Alice was miming a whiteboard eraser, complete with squeaking sound effects, when I turned to face her sly smirk. “Back up and say that again; I didn’t have a recorder going.”
“ Busted ,” Royce muttered, looking greener by the minute.
Tucking Alice under my arm, I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Love you, baby. You know you’re brilliant; don’t pretend otherwise. Congratulations today, by the way.”
“Congratulations to you , Mr. Owner,” she countered playfully. “My brothers are gonna hang back with Ollie for the press conference, but me and the girls were thinking about heading home to make sure everything is ready for the afterparty. You wanna come with?”
“I’m actually gonna head home too,” Royce said, anxious eyes flicking between the two of us. His pallor had sympathy nausea unsettling my gut.
“You look a little seasick,” Alice noted. “Which is rather unfortunate on solid land.”
He grunted an attempt at a laugh before grimacing and admitting, “I feel like shit. Would it be a terrible inconvenience if I caught a ride home? I’ll have somebody come grab the G-wagon.”
My wife wrinkled her nose but shook her head. “You’re on the way, anyways. I’m sure my brothers can handle your car.”
Nodding, he fished his keys from his pocket and tossed them to her. “Just…not the kid. He scares me.” We both smirked, eyeing Maverick. “Thanks, Alice. I uhh…” He swallowed like that muscle was all that kept the bile down.
“Why don’t you go wait by the car?” my wife suggested. Royce just nodded, holding a hand up to keep us at bay as he backed away.
“ Yeah ,” he managed to grunt. “Good plan.”
“See you in a few.” A sympathetic smile crept over her beautiful features as she watched him exit in a hurry. Wrapping her arms around my waist, she muttered, “ Yikes . You going to come with, Mr. Hart?”
Before I could answer, Mattie threw her arms around Alice’s waist and buried her face against her stomach. “ Please take me with you!!” Their nanny had no-showed after Carly made sure to stake her baseless claim to Oliver and their kids last night. The only time Cruella bothered to show up was if someone deigned to give the three of them attention befitting any creature larger than a flea.
Ollie had brought them both along, and while Beau seemed ecstatic at the prospect of going out on the field, four hours of football and pre-game was evidently more than our Mattie could tolerate, based on the desperation in her voice and her little arms locking around my wife. “Please! Leigh says she’ll paint my nails for the party.”
“Oh, will she now?” Oliver grumbled, arching a brow at Leighton, who just flashed a mischievous smile, daring him to challenge her. My brother obviously valued his balls intact and was wise enough not to take the bait.
“Oh, come on, Dad, I’m ten ,” she stated with a teenager’s scowl on her face.
“Just for tonight,” he allotted. “ If your aunt is okay taking you home.”
Grinning, Alice’s amused eyes met mine. “Fine by me. Can you convince Uncle Grey to join us?”
“ Please, Uncle Grey?” Mattie begged, batting her eyes in an adorably awkward attempt to win me over. Before I could answer, I spotted Luke, who leaned against the threshold. He dipped his chin, and I sighed.
Squeezing Mattie and Alice each in one arm, I said, “You three go. I’ll be right behind you. I’ve just got something to take care of.”
Narrowing her eyes with comedic accusation, Alice teased, “Nothing too exciting, I hope.”
“Nah, just a friend,” I assured, nodding to Luke as he moved into the space, weaving through Rhodes siblings as they funneled out into the hallway. She sighed theatrically but pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“Five minutes, max , Mr. Hart,” she demanded, tone mimicking scolding.
Laughing, I kissed the top of her head before unwinding my hold on her, then tracking the three of them as they headed out hand-in-hand, turning sideways dramatically to fit through the doorway. A smirking Jax stalked after them.
“Hart,” Luke said by way of greeting.
“Rivera,” I returned, studying the cautious purse to his lips. He seemed to sense my scrutiny, quick to poker up. “What can I do for you?”
“I got a question for you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“Fuck,” I growled. “ What now? ”
“How well do you know Royce Ashcroft?”