Page 36 of In It for the Long Ride

When I looked back tears were spilling down her face and she looked so broken. I shot toward her and gathered her in my arms. It shocked the shit out of me when she didn’t fight it, she just wrapped her arms around me and held on like I was the only thing keeping her on Earth.

She sobbed and clung to me and I swear a piece of me died right there with her. I held her until it passed, stroking her long, wavy hair and for the first time since I was a kid… I fucking prayed.

For her.

Not in the selfish way, but for her peace. I was going to prison, there was no two ways about that. There were only a handful of ways something like this could come to an end. The mob was gonna kill us, or we were gonna kill them. Murder came with a life sentence in Illinois and the Feds were sitting back with their popcorn. Whoever ended this war would be the one the law made an example out of. The options were reduced to being in the grave or in a jail cell for the rest of my fucking life.

And I was okay with that…

As long as she never had to be this shattered again. For her happiness, I’d play that game.

I tipped her face up and pressed my lips to hers.

“I love you and I’m going to make this right for you. You need to believe me,” I teased my nose along her wet cheeks and kissed my forehead to hers as I gripped her hair and sought her mouth again.

Chapter 15

Daisy

I clungto his words and lost myself to the firm demands his mouth was making against mine. I returned his kisses and scrabbled my nails along his shoulders. He pulled away long enough to pluck his shirt over his head and the sudden abandonment of his lips left me gripping his neck and searching for them twice as greedily when he returned.

His hands slid down my back, pressing into my hips so I ground against him as we danced toward the bed. Just before we reached it, his hands slid over the curve of my ass and he hefted me off my feet. I snared his waist with my legs and a low moan escaped when his breath hit my throat and his mouth locked onto that sensitive little patch of flesh.

I tangled my fingers in his hair and held him close while I squirmed and huffed. Nothing had changed with the years, he still explored my body like he had a treasure to find. His beard scraped along my chest once he stripped me and his teeth captured the bud of my nipple.

He bent and the bed met my back. The mattress shifted with his weight.

“Carl,” I strained, but it turned into a throaty sound when he drew that nipple deeper into his mouth and looked up at me without lifting his head.

He nudged at my knees and thighs as he settled between them, his hands still roaming my body. He caressed my sides and hips, and veered the flat of his hand between my legs until he was cupping my pussy in one hand and locking his fist in my hair with the other, his weight shifting onto me.

Every protest died right there on my lips as I stared up at him like it was the first time I’d ever found myself so with him.

Everything tingled and throbbed and I couldn’t think straight. I’d forgotten all about our location. For a few little precious moments, it had just been us.

“There you are,” he whispered, like he could read my mind.

I blinked and sucked in another breath, but before I could grab his arms and press him back, his mouth was on me again. He kissed me until I was breathless. When our lips parted, I gasped and he snaked down to nip just beneath my breast.

“Carl,” I hissed, with a jerk.

His beard tickled across my belly, but those big hands were locked on my hips, pinning me in place. The lower he dropped, the harder I ached. I tipped my head back and tilted my pelvis forward. When he finally made it to the front of my jeans, I was grinding and pressing myself against him.

He wasn’t in any rush; he held his face there, inhaling my scent with his eyes closed and his lips brushing the fabric. It almost felt like he was praying to my pussy.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he rasped and raked his teeth lightly over my jean-clad pussy.

“Do it,” I whispered, letting go for just a moment.

He released one side of my hip, trailed my inner thigh and gripped it from behind in a possessive squeeze. Then that big palm roamed the back of my jeans and delivered a half-hearted swat to the bottom of my ass cheek.

I twitched and groaned.

“Don’t fuckin’ rush me, woman,” he growled, a half a second before his head turned and he bit my upper, inner thigh.

I gave a short yip and shifted, trying to get away from him.

Yep, nothing had changed, and this wasn’t happening!

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