K. Alex Walker's Blog, page 16

The Darkest Knight #6

THE WOMAN



Part II

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

RECAP

“You brought the baby. Good.”

Mo looked up from the bundle she was rocking in her arms at the same redheaded intruder from the other night. “I just want this to stop,” she said, her voice soft.

The woman nodded. “I understand. My name is Anna. And, you are Moana. Our people met your parents.”

Mo released what, on the outside, looked like a shuddering sigh but inside, she was fuming. “Yes. I know. That’s why I came back here. I knew you’d be here. I’d like a compromise.”

“The baby.” Anna pointed at the bundle. “That’s the only compromise.”

“He’s my only child. Please, anything else.”

Anna stepped forward. “I won’t leave without that bundle you’ve swaddled in your arms, Moana.”

Mo puffed up her chest and then released another sigh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She drew back the blanket on the bundle in her arms to reveal a pump-action shotgun. “As you wish, Anna.”

Read Episode 5 here.



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A blade appeared through the woman’s chest from behind. Her mouth gaped in horror as she stared at it before it was extracted, and she fell to the ground.

Giorgio wiped the blade on his pants.

“Thank God,” Mo said, peering over the raised nozzle. “I thought I’d have to fire this th—”

She pulled back on the trigger. Giorgio tipped his head to the side—she’d get on him about that later considering the bullet hadn’t come close to him—and a figure in the distance cried out before they went down.

The gun all but sprung from her arms onto the ground. The kickback left her shoulder and chest feeling like she’d been punched, her ears rang, and she smelled gunpowder, but her hubby was safe. All of it would fade in a moment.

He rushed toward her, pushed her aside, and swiped the machete across the chest of someone who’d been coming up behind her. Before that person had a chance to fall, he’d already removed a throwing knife from his belt and tossed it. It landed with a thud and a groan in the shadows.

Mo sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the fray of falling bodies emerging from the dark. When she heard a bullet ricochet off the beautiful brick walls they’d just had installed, she pulled a pistol from beneath her top, attached a silencer nozzle, and went searching for the coward trying to fire on Giorgio while it was clear the man was busy.

“Bez.” A strong hand gripped her shoulder. “Stay behind.”

She glanced down at Giorgio’s hand. “What are you doing?”

“Bez, is different now.”

She stepped around him and squeezed the trigger at someone who’d been trying to hide around the corner near the entryway. At least, there was no blood on the picture she’d hung there. She’d gotten it from a local author and the swirls and patterns created the perfect complement to the décor in their home.

“How is it different?” she asked, spinning to get a full 360° view of the room.

“Little fish,” he said. “I . . . did not realize.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Giorgio regressed into the shadows like a black car turning off its lights on a dark street. Mo crept to the bottom of the stairs. They’d had storage put in there, and it was where they kept Aleksi’s jogging stroller. If these people, whoever they were, thought they were going to drive her out of the first home she’d created with her family, they had another think coming.

The footsteps landed on the bottom of the stairs. She lifted the nozzle of her gun. She and Giorgio had been together for a few years now, but she still didn’t see when he left his hiding spot. Or how he’d managed to get behind the intruder with the heavy feet. Or how he could go from sneaking to snatching to ending in a matter of moments. It was amazing what the human body could do, especially when it was essentially a slave to a singular focus for most of its life—killing and destroying.

“What about ‘little fish’?” she whispered, carefully making her way over to him.

“Is first time I see you fight.” Giorgio’s head ticked around the room, brows narrowed. “I do not like feeling.”

“Let me try to translate.” She turned around and pressed her back against his. “This is the first time you’ve seen me fight since I had the baby.”

“Da.”

“And, even though you were pretty protective before, now that you realize you have us both in your life, you’ll do anything to make sure we’re unharmed.”

“Not as many words—”

“But am I right, though?”

She sensed his grin. “Da.”

Movement flashed from the corner of her eye, but it was a breeze blowing one of the trees they’d had planted in the backyard. It was where she sat with Aleksi on the nicer, cooler evenings. Giorgio had spoken her thoughts out loud. It was the first time she’d fought since bringing her rybka into the world and all she could see was his face. His smile. All she wanted was to keep seeing that face and smile for the rest of her life, along with the face, occasional smile, long dark hair, and eyebrow scar of the man behind her.

“What’s the feeling like?” she asked.

“What is thing I tell you always?”

The tree moved again. Then, she remembered how still the night had been outside when they pulled up.

“That you love me.”

“Da.”

Heat pricked the back of her neck. One more person was in the house, and this person wasn’t a lackey. She felt when Giorgio flexed, felt his triceps press against her back to indicate he sensed it too.

“That I’m pretty.”

“Nyet. Beautiful, Bez. What else. Bestsennyy.”

“Oh, priceless. Is that how you feel? Like you might lose something priceless?”

“Like losing world,” he clarified.

Something that felt like acid and lava erupted against her skin. It wasn’t until after the knife landed that she registered the sound of bullets, and that Giorgio had gone from standing behind her to directly in front of her.

She raised her gun and expended the clip in the direction the shots were coming from and heard a woman cry out. When the woman’s face emerged in the stream of moonlight coming through the large windows in the main room, she paused. This woman looked too much like Giorgio to not be related to him in some way.

Vater, you bastard.

Heavy breathing filled the air. Her face felt suddenly affixed to a block of ice. Air became a precious, dwindling commodity. None of the shots had ricocheted off the walls. They’d sunken into flesh. Her husband, warrior, king, best friend, and lover’s flesh.

“Is okay, Bez,” Giorgio said, staring down at her.

Mo slipped her hand over Giorgio’s watch, pressed her thumb against the watch face for a few seconds, and then slipped her fingers between his.

“You okay, big man?” She didn’t want to cry, but tears were in her voice. They weren’t on her face but sorrow was raining inside her body, squeezing and constricting every vein, artery, and pore.

He squeezed her hand. “Da.”

“Can you hold on for me, baby?”

“Da.”

She swiped two daggers from his body.

“Bez?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You are wife of beast. Do not forget.”

 The woman let the gun slide to the floor. Mo cleared her throat, rolled her neck, and blinked back her tears. It was one of the things Giorgio told her had endeared her to him, the fact that she was tough but allowed herself to be vulnerable. The very first night they met, she’d cried for him when she realized there was more to him than the monster everyone had thought him to be.

The woman rushed forward, a machete in hand. Each swing was precise and targeted, but as Mo blocked each one, she realized this woman probably was one of Vater’s numerous illegal and illegitimate offspring, but she didn’t grow up with Giorgio. She hadn’t been trained by Giorgio. She was only the sister of a weapon, not a weapon herself.

The woman sliced toward her neck and Mo stepped just out of the reach of the blade, but then she brought the dagger up toward the woman’s wrist. The sharp blade sliced tanned, Mediterranean skin before the woman pulled back.

Behind her, Giorgio’s breathing grew labored.

“Hold on for me, my love,” Mo said. “Please.”

She advanced this time, toward the woman. They didn’t have time to waste even with the distress signal she’d sent out. The woman, caught off-guard, stumbled backward, her wrist squirting blood. Mo quickly scanned the injury. She’d gotten the ulnar artery. If she could get the woman to open up her hand, she’d nick the radial artery as well. Maybe she’d just say, “fuck it” and jam the dagger into the woman’s neck. It wasn’t like they needed her for anything.

“He’s dying!” the woman screamed, pointing at Giorgio, her German accent just as strong as the redhead’s had been. “Those were not regular bullets. Vater’s precious Auserwahlte doesn’t have fifteen minutes left.”

Mo stopped dead in her tracks. “What?”

“They are laced with a special toxin.”

“Fix it or I’ll kill you.”

The woman glanced back at Giorgio. “We need the baby.”

“I said cure him.”

Several masked intruders came pouring in through the entryway, guns raised, but they weren’t there for her and Giorgio. A feminine voice bellowed from one, in German, and Mo didn’t have to understand the language to know the bleeding woman had messed something up.

“I can cure him,” the bleeding woman offered. “But we need the baby. We need Aleksi.”

Mo raised a dagger. “Don’t let my son’s name come from your filthy fucking mouth again.”

The woman tried a smile but it was unsteady. She wavered on her feet. “Then you will come with us,” she said. “If you don’t, they’ll kill you, and we’ll get Aleksi either way.”

“Bez . . . ” Giorgio’s deep voice rumbled in the darkness. Even for a man who was on the verge of death, Mo still saw a few of the masked intruders cringe. He switched from English to Māori. “Go with them. I’ll come for you. You know I’ll come for you. What I can’t do, is lose you. Please, Mo.”

“Fine.” Mo dropped the daggers to the floor. She didn’t have time to think or fight or lament. The quicker a decision was made, the quicker Giorgio could get some help.

Four of the masked intruders came over to her, three to hold and one to, she realized, sedate her. She let them, but not before she verified that they’d gone over to help Giorgio. Aleksi was with Gage. There was no way in hell they would get him. Gage had protected her like some sort of big brother, Secret Service bodyguard when they were children. She could only imagine how that protection would extend to her son.

What looked like an old woman came shuffling into the room. She knelt over Giorgio and moved his hair away from his face, tucking one side behind his ear. Before she zoned out completely, Mo made a vow to kill the old woman, shove her the rest of the way into the grave where one of her feet already dangled. Nobody tucked her man’s hair but her.

“Do we take her?” a voice asked, muffled.

Mo felt her lids lift and lower, heavy like she was trying to blink underwater.

“Take her to the lab,” another voice said. “Then go get the baby.”

* * *

Julien Hunter stared at the screen in front of him, watching as a group of people wearing dark clothes and masks—with the exception of two—lifted Giorgio onto a gurney in the middle of the home he shared with Mo.

“Giorgio, your vitals are stabilizing,” he announced, the message resounding through four additional comm links—Dez’s, Huang’s, Gage’s, and Joel’s. Two faces popped up on the monitor screen behind him. “The old woman is Helmine Wagner, the ninety-something year old widow of Otto Wagner, who we now know was your biological father. The younger one, she goes by Sophia Bayeux. Not much information on her but she did spend some time on the circuit. Give me two fingers for, ‘I’m going to fuck them up right here,’ or one for, ‘I’m going to fuck them up when we get to their destination.’”

Giorgio lifted two fingers.

#7 – THE CHOSEN ONE



03/02/2020

When Mo opened her eyes, she felt something cold against her back. Her legs were numb and propped up in stirrups. Her arms were strapped along her sides. An oxygen mask covered her face and someone was visible down between her parted legs, pulling a long cotton swab from a plastic pouch.

“Are you familiar with the 1936 Olympics, Moana Grace Pozza?”

Mo and Giorgio are from the book, “Angels and Assassins: The Dark Knight.”

Available on Amazon.com

The Darkest Knight #5

THE WOMAN

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

Read Episode 4 here.



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“Has it been confirmed that it’s his child?” Helmine Wagner asked.

Anna, who used to be Helmine’s most skilled soldier, was sitting across from her, in the middle of her study, with bandages distorting the stretch of the black shirt the woman wore.

Another one of Helmine’s soldiers had been killed by the woman she heard was not only Giorgio’s child’s mother, but also his wife. The news had come as a surprise to her considering Giorgio had been trained out of close relationships. Anything resembling love or affection should have been virtually impossible for him to feel or show. They didn’t have any information on this deadly black woman, but that would change.

Soon.

“I took the sample,” Anna said, periodically gripping her chest to soothe the wound the black woman had etched there. “We should know shortly.”

Helmine sat straighter in a high-back chair that matched Anna’s. “You’ve seen the baby. Does he look like Giorgio?”

“It’s difficult to tell because he’s of mixed blood.” Anna scrunched her nose.

“What’s wrong?” Helmine asked, although she already knew.

“The black woman—”

“Killed one of my best men.”

“Helmine, this isn’t what Otto would have wanted.”

Helmine sneered. She’d created Otto Wagner, one of the most powerful businessmen in the world. A man who, when she met him, had been a boy with stupid, dismal dreams about being a carpenter in Europe.

She gave him decades as both his wife and business partner, but she never gave him what he wanted most—a houseful of beautiful, intelligent, and obedient children. Even before they’d married, she’d had no intention of doing so.

To prevent it, she’d had her fallopian tubes severed, a surgery her own mother had performed. A woman who would have been the greatest surgeon in the world if the world had been kind to her.

Fucking Otto was never something she desired, but she’d done her wifely duties. However, she could never fathom ruining her body and mind, and threatening her freedom and future for the sake of producing her useless late husband’s heir.

They both had come from good genetic stock with her fair hair and eyes like a Mediterranean coast and his darker features. Stupid, but handsome was how her mother had described him when they’d both decided, when she was fifteen, she would wed Otto and turn him into the magnate society wouldn’t have allowed her to be. At least, not back then.

When they found his body, it didn’t surprise her, and she found she didn’t care. What had surprised her was that it was determined it wasn’t Auserwahlte who’d killed him. It was Malachi, the baby born crippled who’d tried his entire life to change Otto’s mind about him. The baby who would have been eliminated if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d been born a twin. Malachi had even saved Otto’s life after her husband was nearly slaughtered by the beautiful child Otto had promised her would be hers to keep.

“My husband is dead, Anna,” Helmine reminded.

“But Helmine—”

“Know your history.” She spat on the ground near Anna’s feet, her saliva frothing on the expensive area rug. “You think your Einsteins and your Tolstoys are geniuses? Ask their wives. While their husbands were getting drunk and scratching their asses, the wives were the ones making magic.”

Anna’s face blanched. Before apologies began stumbling from her mouth, the door to the study opened. A young man appeared in the entryway and peered around Anna’s body to meet Helmine’s eyes.

He nodded.

Helmine beamed. “Good. The child’s paternity has been confirmed.”

Sophia Bayeux came stumbling into the room, shoving the man to the side as she pushed through the entryway. Blood dripped from a wound in her upper arm. She had her father’s face, Otto’s face, and was the only girl they’d kept from the births that had taken place in Russia.

Otto had taken to the dark-haired child with eyes as large and round as a Reichsmark. Though he never admitted it, Helmine knew it was because he fell for Sophia’s mother.

She kept the girl around because Sophia was skilled and hungry, always wanting to prove herself to a father who’d been taken with her regardless. They had the same heart, Sophia and Otto—tainted and selfish. There was only one person in the world they feared. Sophia because Otto had revered Giorgio and Otto because he’d been afraid his weakness for his “blessed” son would lead to his end. 

“I saw him,” Sophia said, her breaths coming in short. “I saw Giorgio.”

Helmine pushed up, batting away Anna’s assistance to help her nearly one-hundred-year-old body to her feet. “He let you go?”

Sophia shook her head. “I escaped.”

A smile spread across Helmine’s face. “Sophia, a hungry lion does not release its prey. Stupid girl, he has tricked you.”

Helmine motioned for Anna to step forward to examine the cut. Anna retrieved a tweezer from her clothing, slipped a pair of glasses onto her nose, and leaned close to the gash.

“Who told you to seek him out?” Helmine asked, studying Anna as she worked.

Sophia tilted her chin, proud. “I went on my own.”

“You sought him out and you came back injured.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Sophia argued. “I’ll kill him for what he did to my father.” Her gaze briefly shot to Anna’s covered chest. “And I’ll kill his so-called son’s mother for what he did to Anna.”

“The paternity has been established,” Helmine revealed.

“I don’t care. I’m still going to kill that bitch. I don’t know what Vater saw in him—”

“He was beautiful, wasn’t he?” Helmine took a few steps back, eyes still on them. “The most gorgeous child to have ever been born. All that dark hair, eyes both clear and dark. Otto knew it just like I know—Giorgio is perfect. Your mother was a whore from Bayeux, France. His mother was one of the loveliest and deadliest women in Pozza, Italy.”

“Got it.” Anna held up a small device. “The Beast is tracking her.”

Sophia’s eyes narrowed and a growl tore from her throat. “I swear, on my life, I’m going to kill Giorgio Pozza.”

Helmine turned away from the girl. She wanted to strangle her. She wished she could strangle her but at her age, the effort would be futile. Anna would step in and peel her hands from Sophia’s neck. Sophia would then plot a revenge that she would, most likely, be able to carry out. The end of her life was coming anyhow, but she wouldn’t die before she held that baby. Not before she saw the boy she’d wanted since his birth but Otto had stolen and hid from her.

“We’re going to have to move sooner than we planned,” she told Anna. “Tonight.”

“We don’t know where they are,” Anna argued.

“Get a team together anyhow. Use his wife and child. He’ll come from hiding.”

Sophia yanked her arm away from Anna’s hold. “And what if he comes without the child?”

“Then we threaten his wife.” Helmine’s voice lowered to a rasp. “Under no circumstances do you hurt him or that baby. The wife, I think I like her from what I’ve heard, but don’t think twice about killing her if she tries to get in the way of us taking her child.”

* * *

Giorgio tugged Mo closer into his side when he felt her try to move away. He couldn’t sleep and even after making love to her twice more, seeing Aleksi, and then eating with Tayler, Gage, and Grey . . . he was still tense. On edge. The old compulsions had returned, like poison in his blood.

“You’re twitching.” Mo reached for his busy hand that had been moving for what felt like hours. “What’s going on, babe?”

“You want to leave bed?” he asked, drawing her close enough to smell the sweet scent of her hair, and for her curls to brush his chest the way he liked.

“No, I was going to get the baby.”

The sound of Aleksi’s crying came through, all of a sudden, like his ears had been switched back on. Aleksi was in a crib in their room and still, he hadn’t heard his own flesh and blood calling for him.

“Sleep, Bez.” He planted a kiss on top of her head. “I will calm him.”

She brushed a kiss along his jaw. “I used to be terrified of your voice. Now, I can’t get enough of it. And the minute Aleksi hears it, he calms right down. He loves you, you know?”

For that statement alone, he wanted to fuck her, but their baby was crying.

He, regretfully, eased away from her smooth, warm body. “Sleep, Bez.”

She stretched forward, planted a loud smack against his lips, and then buried herself back under the covers.

Giorgio walked over to Aleksi’s crib and lifted the small bundle into his arms. “Tell me, what is wrong, Little Pozza.”

Just like Mo said, the crying stopped, and he wondered if she was right. If his son loved him.

She loved him, and it was something he still couldn’t believe. Without a doubt, he loved them. It didn’t matter that he found he still didn’t fully understand the emotions she made him feel—happiness, laughter, frustration—but he knew that he needed her. He needed her in his life and by his side. He needed her warmth and her eyelashes, her brown skin and her painted toes, the sound of her voice and the way she said his name.

Need, for him, was love. At least, the start of how he was beginning to understand it.

He sat in the far corner of the room and turned on a lamp to see Aleksi’s face better. His heart swelled when, after squinting from the influx of light, Aleksi searched until their gazes connected and then rewarded him with the biggest smile.

“I have made mistake,” Giorgio said, staring into his son’s face. “I start family in middle of war, but mistake is not you, rybka. Is not our Bez, your mother and my wife. Mistake is war. We are in agreement, yes?”

Aleksi kicked his legs, blowing bubbles between his lips.

“Yes. Very good.” Giorgio grinned. “Your father, you will still him love after he kill?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Aleksi’s mouth.

“He will,” Mo said from the darkness. “Just like I do.”

“I said sleep, Bez.”

“I was trying to, but I can’t sleep when you’re talking all sweet to the baby.”

Giorgio’s phone went off. Mo reached across the bed, grabbed it, and held it up to her ear. “Hey, Julien,” she greeted. “Why are you up this late?”

Her face fell. Her head bobbed as she cleared tears from her throat. Giorgio stood, walked over and handed her Aleksi, and then took the phone from her hand.

“What is it?”

Julien sighed. “It’s Mo and Ari’s parents. They were attacked at their home in Australia.”

He liked her parents. They liked him. They never wanted him to touch knives again, but he liked them.

“They are dead?” Giorgio asked.

“No, but they’re pretty badly injured. Ari and I are heading out there tonight.”

“Okay.” He handed the phone back to Mo and walked straight to the closet to change.

He felt her watching him while she received updates on her parents. When he was finished, he went back to her.

“You won’t get me not to join you on this,” she said.

He nodded. “Da, we are in agreement. We are going back to our home. Tonight. They will be there.”

“Good.” Mo glanced down at their son. “I’m ready for this to be over.”

* * *

“You brought the baby. Good.”

Mo looked up from the bundle she was rocking in her arms at the same redheaded intruder from the other night. “I just want this to stop,” she said, her voice soft.

The woman nodded. “I understand. My name is Anna. And, you are Moana. Our people met your parents.”

Mo released what, on the outside, looked like a shuddering sigh but inside, she was fuming. “Yes. I know. That’s why I came back here. I knew you’d be here. I’d like a compromise.”

“The baby.” Anna pointed at the bundle. “That’s the only compromise.”

“He’s my only child. Please, anything else.”

Anna stepped forward. “I won’t leave without that bundle you’ve swaddled in your arms, Moana.”

Mo puffed up her chest and then released another sigh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She drew back the blanket on the bundle in her arms to reveal a pump-action shotgun. “As you wish, Anna.”

#6 – TO BE CONTINUED



02/24/2020

I hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine’s Day! 

Mo and Giorgio are from the book, “Angels and Assassins: The Dark Knight.”

Available on Amazon.com

The Darkest Knight #4

THE RETURN OF DAS BIEST

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

Read Episode 3 here.



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“Tayler!”

Gage stomped through the Malibu mansion he shared with his wife, calling her name despite both him and Giorgio already realizing neither Tayler nor Mo were there.

“Tay, answer me, love!”

They’d checked both houses, as well as both houses’ panic rooms, but it was clear no movement had been made at either location in over twenty-four hours. Their cell connection had also been blocked, and Julien was still on his way back home to the DC area. Until he landed, there would be no way to get in contact with Mo and Tayler to find out where they were hiding. There was also no way for them to reach out.

Gage stopped at the bottom of the staircase, released a harsh breath, and ticked his head back. “Your wife’s an assassin. My wife is freakishly good with firearms. I shouldn’t be worried.”

“She is wife, not, how you say . . . fuck-buddy,” Giorgio reminded. “So, we worry.”

“Getting married in this profession was probably the dumbest move I’ve ever made in my life.” Gage’s gaze continued to dart around as if the women would suddenly manifest. “I unnecessarily brought one of the most amazing people in the world into this dangerous bullshit. A million years from now, I still won’t deserve a woman like Tay.”

“Gage—”

“And then we had a fucking son. A child. Giorgio, we deal in the business of death. Why bring a child into this mess?”

“Ljubovʹ zla, poljubišʹ i kozla.”

Gage glanced his way. “I understood love, evil, and goat.”

“We do not control love,” Giorgio translated. “Is not something we can do, even with knife and gun. I did not want it, but my Bez is not normal woman.”

A smile cracked at the corner of Gage’s mouth.

“’Woman’ is dangerous,” Giorgio added. “But ‘mother’ is deadly.” They will protect. My Little Fish and your Grey.

Giorgio didn’t feel as calm as the front that he was putting on, but he needed to stay calm to clear his head. Gage hadn’t picked up on it yet, and Gage usually picked up on everything.

Somebody was in the house.

They’d followed them from the farmhouse where he and Bez lived.

Giorgio reached toward the wire at his waist and unclipped a throwing knife. The minute the shadow appeared at the sliding doors, he turned and released it. The figure gasped, grabbed its throat, and went stumbling to the floor.

A bullet sizzled past his ear, through the glass, and lodged itself into another body just stepping around the corner.

A person dressed in black appeared on the stairs behind Gage, and Gage stepped around them at the last minute, grabbed the back of their neck, and released the trigger of his pistol with the nozzle pressed against the person’s midsection. The body went rolling down to the bottom of the stairs.

“How many?” Giorgio asked.

“There’s a least one more.” Gage looked around. “Where you at, mate? And what the fuck did you think would happen here today?”

Giorgio tilted his head, listening . . . and then he heard it. A shaky exhale.

The stink of fear perfumed the air. He marched toward the kitchen and found their last visitor there, their gun raised, the nozzle shaking.

“They send child to do man’s work?” he asked. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

They were all wearing masks so he couldn’t tell if he was dealing with a man or woman. The space around their eyes was light, probably peach in color when they weren’t being pumped with adrenaline. The way they moved revealed their inexperience. Why someone would send anyone inexperienced after him, Bez, Gage, or Tayler was beyond comprehension. They’d probably been expecting some kind of negotiation, assuming he and Gage had come here because that was where the women would be.

The intruder released a shot. In the time it took for the shot to miss him, by a wide margin, he’d made his way over to them.

Giorgio grabbed the gun and swiped the butt across the intruder’s face. They dropped to the floor and he squatted over them, tugging the mask off over their head. When he did, he realized he was staring into a face that looked a lot like his own.

Vater’s face.

“Please, do not hurt me,” the woman begged, hands clasped. She looked to be around his age, maybe a year or two older.

“Do not hurt you?” He jammed a blade through her upper arm. “What, you think, I am charity? I fucking will kill you.”

It was bad enough to come after him before he had something to lose.

It was worse now that he had two.

Gage walked over to them and crouched. “Hi there, love.”

The muscles in the woman’s neck strained against the pain of the blade in her arm.

“Don’t worry, the big man won’t kill you,” Gage reassured. “But, if you could do me a favor and let whoever sent you know that if there’s so much as one more indiscretion by your little organization’s party, there’ll be no mercy.”

The woman nodded.

Giorgio studied her face again. The dark features were so similar to his own, he wanted to end her just for looking like Vater.

He pulled the blade from her arm. She cried out until the metal was fully expelled. He and Gage then stepped back, giving her clearance to stand up.

Blood dripped down her arm as she climbed to her feet, anxious gaze darting between them. “You are really letting me go?”

“You must want to die,” Gage said. “Do you not understand? He will kill you.”

“I know that.” Her eyes scanned Giorgio from head to toe. “I never thought I would see you, Auserwahlte. Or meet you.”

Giorgio took note of the strong German accent.

She switched to German. “Mother, she speaks of you often.”

“I do not give a fuck about your ‘mutter,’” he answered, in English.

The woman licked her lips and then darted toward the front door. Gage and Giorgio watched her go, watched her black BMW SUV pull away from the house and speed down the road.

Gage slapped his back. “Don’t worry, mate. She’ll head right on back where she came from and we’ll track her using that piece you put into her shoulder.”

His watch chirped. An address popped up.

“Is Julien?” Giorgio asked.

“Yeah. He found them.”

They started for the door.

“You and Bez,” Giorgio said, shaking his head. “Let me kill. Is simple.”

“But we couldn’t kill this one, mate! We needed her to run back to her hive so we could track where they are.”

“No need for track if we kill all.”

Gage laughed. “We’ll do it your way next time.”

 

* * * *

Tayler hopped up and ran to the door at the sound of the doorbell. “It’s them, Mo,” she said. “It’s the guys.”

When the door opened and Mo saw her hubby standing there, she was grateful Aleksi was asleep in the other room. If not, she would have probably been holding him and wouldn’t have been able to rush Giorgio like she did. Jump into his arms. Plant kisses all over his face, making sure to pay close attention to the bruised spots he hadn’t left with.

She’d had a safe house set up in Anaheim long before she and Giorgio had hooked back up, and she’d been two weeks away from getting rid of it.

Now that this happened, she would hold onto it forever.

“Hi, baby.” She kissed his forehead, his cheekbone, the tip of his nose. “I missed you.”

He tilted her chin down so their lips could come together, first soft with relief because, between everything that had happened the last few days, they’d come close to never seeing each other again. Then, her fingers tangled in the silky strands of his hair. Then, he was kissing her harder, deeper, tugging and pulling whimpers and moans from her throat she couldn’t control even if she wanted to.

He walked them through the house, kicking in doors until he found a room with a bed. When her back hit the soft mattress, he hovered over her.

“Where is our Little Fish?” he asked.

“Asleep.” She pulled his shirt over his head. “He missed his daddy.”

“And you, Bez?”

She grinned. “Oh, I missed his daddy too.”

He stripped off her panties with one hand and slid her dress up around her stomach. She used her feet to lower the waist on his jeans. With them barely around his thighs, impatient, he pushed his way inside her.

Mo clawed at Giorgio’s back as his hips moved, his pelvis crashing against hers, his cock stretching and filling her.

“Gio. My Gio.” She hooked her ankles at the base of his spine. “Never leave me again.”

She didn’t care how desperate it sounded.

“Never, Bez.” She loved the way his voice sounded as he drove into her, straining with lust. “Never, I will leave you.”

He dragged his tongue across her neck, trailing it up over her chin before plunging it into her mouth, tasting and licking. Flicking at the corners before he covered her mouth with his, inhaling her like he couldn’t get enough. It was making love and fucking all in one. It was the kind of sex that spoke for them, expressing how much she missed him and him her through each connection of their bodies.

His grunts caused heat to crawl over her skin. And, between those grunts were quiet moans that let her know she was breaking him.

Or maybe that she’d already broken him.

“Fuck, Bez.” He growled, pulled out of her, used a hand against her hip to turn her over, and then plunged inside her again.

One of his hands remained at her hip while the other tangled in the curls on her head.

Tears of happiness and relief sprung from her eyes. “Gio, ne ostanavlyvaysya! Please, don’t stop!”

“I did not teach you this, bad girl.” He tugged. Her head snapped backward. “Again.”

Her climax began to build. “Ne ostanavlyvaysya.”

“Again.”

“Ne ostanavlyvaysya.”

Warmth swirled inside her. He fucked her harder until she released, a surge of ecstasy that caused her nipples to tighten and her sex to throb. That forced her body to buck and bend and a pealing cry from her throat she knew Tayler and Gage were too busy themselves to care about.

“Oh God.” Her entire body shook. “Oh . . . baby.”

He tilted her back against his chest and pressed kisses along her spine. “Lyubimaya moya. My love. My Bez. Mine.”

“Did you come?”

He groaned a response.

“Oh no, we can’t have that.”

She lowered again, her forehead nearly touching the mattress, and started pushing her body back against his. Doing to him what he’d done to her.

“Fuck.” His hands massaged her hips and ass. “Beautiful, Bez.”

He grabbed her hips, taking back control.

She slipped her hand between her legs and her second orgasm, even stronger than the first, crashed at the same time she heard his deep, sexy groan. Like hell would she only get pleasure and not give it. Like hell would she not take every chance she could to bring that sound out of her man.

She collapsed onto the mattress, flipped over, and motioned for him to climb on top of her.

“Your clothes, Bez,” he said, pointing with his chin.

She pulled off her dress and he stepped the rest of the way out of his jeans and underwear. Then, he lowered onto her, warm against warm, his ear pressed against her heartbeat. In a minute, he would move to avoid crushing her under his weight. Until that happened, she basked in the sensation of her arms around him and her fingers in his hair.

“Tonight, is family,” he said. “Tomorrow, you will not stop me.”

She kissed the top of his head. “They threatened our child. I’m not stopping shit.”

#5 – THE WOMAN



02/17/2020



Sneak Preview

“He let you go? A hungry lion does not release its prey. Stupid girl, he has tricked you.”

Mo and Giorgio are from the book, “Angels and Assassins: The Dark Knight.”

Available on Amazon.com

The Darkest Knight #3

THE AMBUSH

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

[image error]

Giorgio dragged Joel by the gear strapped to his chest out of the way of falling debris, and then tossed him over his shoulder. Joel hung with his arms and legs dangling, unconscious, as they maneuvered through the crumbling building. They hadn’t seen the attack coming. The area, supposedly, had been secured, but Julien picked up the RPG headed their way at the last minute. At this point, Giorgio didn’t know if the entire team had been able to escape the roof and walls caving in on them.

To make matters worse, his comm links weren’t working, his sat phone was destroyed, and he wasn’t sure if the liquid running down his arm was his blood or Joel’s.

For the last several months, Julien had been telling Central, the singular unit responsible for the coordination of their missions, that all signs pointed to Central being compromised. Central had assured them of no such thing, citing that their missions were completely sealed above even country leader security clearances.

However, they’d been compromised before.

It was how Gage’s parents and younger brothers had been killed.

Giorgio navigated through the building’s dark hallways. Their objectives had included landing them right in the middle of the Syrian Civil War. With the millions who’d been displaced since the start of the war, they’d been contracted to lend some help to the rebel groups who had boots on the ground in the middle of the conflict as well as to help with civilian rescue.

Four hours after getting to their rendezvous point, they’d been attacked, which told him everything he needed to know.

This wasn’t about war. This was about them.

Another loud blast shook the floor. Cracks in the walls brought in extra light, but it was pointless if he didn’t have eyes outside. The entire building could be surrounded.

Gage’s voice suddenly came through the device in his ear: “Big man, you there?”

Giorgio stopped when he came to a large room that looked like, once upon a time, it had been a ballroom of some sort. The remnants of a massive chandelier sat in the middle of the destroyed opening. Once polished marbled floors were now cratered and crumbled. The only structures that remained virtually completely intact were the archways opening up to the grand space.

He lowered Joel to the ground and tapped to respond. “Da. I hear you.”

“Thank God, mate.” Gage’s voice was muffled by static, but his relief was still evident. “You alone?”

“I have agent.”

“I’m with Huang and Dez.”

Joel groaned, and Giorgio checked his arm where he’d felt the blood. There was a wound there, probably from the piece of metal he’d felt go through him after the first blast, but it wasn’t serious. It wouldn’t be enough to stop him from going home to Bez and Little Fish.

Gage’s relief transformed to urgency. “We’re trying to find Julien. He was the closest to everything. Ari would kill me if…Jesus. How the fuck did this even happen?”

The blasts gave way to the sound of automatic weapons.

Giorgio brought Mo’s face to mind and allowed her image to linger. “You are where? I am southeast. Is room like Cinderella. In story, where she dance with prince.”

Godmother Irina had told him Russian fairy tales. Vater had made it verboten and instead ordered her to tell only the ones written by die Brüder Grimm—The Grimm brothers—because of the brothers’ German heritage.

She’d ended up telling him both but had used English when teaching him about the Grimm tales, which was how he’d started learning the language. Now, he told the stories to Aleksi. All except for Baba Yaga. His Bez didn’t like Baba Yaga.

“Oh, the ballroom,” Gage said. “We’re close. I remember from looking at the building layout that there’s some kind of bunker near there. You know it’s rare for us to go somewhere where we can’t plan a subterranean exit strategy.”

Gage’s voice picked up like he was running. By now, the rest of the team would have heard the bullets. Julien was alone and, even if he was uninjured, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against that many assault rifles. If anything happened to her husband, Little Ari would kill them, especially since he’d promised her he would protect Julien right before their very first assignment.

Joel darted up to sit, his body jackknifing, reached for the gun strapped at his waist and aimed it in Giorgio’s direction.

Giorgio didn’t flinch. “U tebja vsë v porjadke?”

They’d been around him long enough to know when he was asking if they were okay.

“Fuck.” Joel glanced around, his face covered in caked dirt and dried blood. “Fuck. What happened?”

“Bomb.” Giorgio tilted his head to indicate the blasts had come from the air. “You are not critical, da?”

Joel pushed to his feet, arms and legs shaking, and leaned against one of the columns that opened up to the ballroom for support. The gun dangled at his side. “I don’t think so.”

Footsteps caused them both to turn around. Gage, Dez, and Huang appeared, clothes torn with gashes across their heads and crimson stains of varying sizes on their bodies. When the trio looked up and saw them, they smiled like they were all the picture of perfect health.

“On the way, I heard from Julien,” Gage said, nearly out of breath. “He’s in the bunker. We’re not far from it.”

Gage led the way. Joel had taken some kind of projectile to the leg, which he hadn’t realized until he’d tried to take a step, so Giorgio continued to carry him through the halls until they came to an opening in the floor that had once been covered by heavy rocks. Had it not been for the explosion, they would have never been able to get through it in their current states.

They lowered into the hole, Dez and Huang helping Joel to the ground. Giorgio brought up the rear, and they followed the narrow path until the first sliver of light came through.

A figure appeared in the stream of light, gun raised. Then, the person fell to their hands and knees, and Julien’s low and quiet, “Thank God” echoed throughout the narrow cavern.

The end of the tunnel led to the middle of a wooded area several kilometers from the turmoil at the falling building. Outside, close to a dozen jeeps were lined up around the exterior of the building. Some had men sitting in the back, their forearms leaned against mounted guns. Black flags waved in the wind from the front of the vehicles.

“We have to keep going,” Julien said. “I don’t have any way to jam their signals, nothing. We’re pretty much sitting ducks right now.”

Now that they could see him, they could see the bloodstains still visible in his dark shirt. His blond hair was matted to one side of his face. His breathing was labored and his eyes bloodshot red.

“I’m okay,” he said before anyone had a chance to ask. “Nothing serious. I already checked. Just hurts like hell. It’s not like I look worse than any of you.”

“I can get us an extraction,” Huang piped up.

“How far?” Dez asked. “We’re more than likely still inside these guys’ perimeter. Whoever the hell they are.”

“Not far, but it will be tricky without any tech.” Huang tipped his chin in Gage’s direction. “We only have your gut right now, so let’s hope it can still pick up landmines and attack dogs and shit.”

“Didn’t your lady tell you to stop cussing?” Joel asked, breaths still heavy.

Gage studied Joel’s frame. It was usually a good sign whenever he was still trying to provide comedic relief, but it was obvious the man was in serious pain.

He ticked his head. “Let’s go.”

They walked through the woods until they came up to a two-lane road. A jeep with a matching black flag had been perched, alone, as some kind of blockade, but Gage made easy work of sniping the driver and shooter.

*

Almost forty-eight hours later, they were in a location not known even to Central.

Huang had arranged for a clandestine extraction to a luxury villa in Mykonos. Gage and Dez had done what they could to patch everyone up since none of the injuries were serious enough to risk trusting an outside party coming in. Luckily, none of Joel’s wounds had included damage to any major organs or blood vessels, but he was still in a world of pain.

They were brought a large dinner of dolma, eggplant moussaka, Greek salad, souvlaki, baklava, and wine, but none of them could eat. Not when, in those forty-eight hours, they hadn’t made contact with their families. It also didn’t help that Julien had forgotten to cut off communication with Ari, so she’d likely overheard when the projectile hit the building.

Giorgio left his untouched plate, grabbed a tablet, and relocated from the main house to the roof deck overlooking the blue Mediterranean waters of the Aegean Sea.

“I got it a secure line,” Julien suddenly yelled throughout the house. “We’ll only have a few minutes, but that should be enough to do a quick check-in.”

Giorgio only heard one half of the sentence. He was already staring at the screen in his hand, waiting. When his Bez’s face appeared, he felt an unusual sensation in his chest. He didn’t recognize it, but he knew it had something to do with missing her.

“Gio? Gio! Oh God.” Tears filled her eyes. “Baby, are you okay?”

He searched her face. Her eyes had somehow gotten browner, more beautiful. It seemed impossible for anything about her to become more beautiful. “I am okay. There was problem. Is not safe here so we will come home.”

The right side of her mouth pulled into a dismal smile. “It’s never safe where you guys are so, if you’re coming home, it must be really bad.”

He took in the unfamiliar scenery behind her. She was sitting on a bed, but it was neither at their house or Gage’s. “Bez, where is Aleksi?”

She lowered the screen to where their son was cradled in her arms. “He’s right here. He’s asleep.”

The feeling in Giorgio’s chest returned. “He is beautiful, Bez.”

 “Yes.” She lifted the screen back up to her face. “He is.”

“Ja skučaju po tebe.”

“I miss you too, baby.”

“Now, you will tell me.”

Surprise flashed over her face. The injuries she could see on his face were bad enough which was why she was withholding something from him; she didn’t want to add to his current pain. But she was his wife, his partner. His reason. Nothing he’d been through was more important than their safety.

“A woman showed up here looking for Auserwahlte,” she revealed. “She said she’d be back. For Aleksi.”

Giorgio’s grip nearly cracked the device’s screen. “And who the fuck is this woman?”

She adjusted so he could see both her and Aleksi in the frame. He still didn’t recognize the backdrop. “I’ve never seen her before but she spoke with a German accent. She got away. I’m sorry. But, it’s only because—”

“No excuses, Bez. You are safe. This is only thing that matter.”

She nodded, the tears creating streams over her cheekbones. “You don’t look good, baby. How bad is it?”

“I am coming home to you, Bez, èto jasno?”

“Yes.” She nodded again, wiping at her eyes. “Loud and clear.”

“If I have no heart,” he thumped his chest, “it does not matter. You and rybka, you are more important than my life, èto jasno?”

She hated when he said things like that because, just as important as her life was to him, so was his life to her. But she’d blessed him with much more than he’d ever be able to return.

“Bez.” He growled her name. “If there is problem, you do not keep from me. Even if you can handle, we handle together.”

The video stuttered signaling they were losing the connection.

“Gi-o?”

“Bez, I am here.”

Her fingers tapped the screen. “F-uck. Not n-now. Pl-ease.”

“Bez, you are where?”

“If y-ou can still h-ear me, w-e are at t—”

The screen went blank.

Giorgio cursed and tossed the tablet, the throbbing in his muscles nothing compared to the rage he felt that someone connected to Vater thought they could threaten his son.

#4 – The Return of das Biest



02/10/2020



Sneak Preview

“’Woman’ is dangerous,” Giorgio added. “But ‘mother’ is deadly.”

Mo and Giorgio are from the book, “Angels and Assassins: The Dark Knight.”

Available on Amazon.com

The Darkest Knight #2

THE CHOSEN ONE

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

[image error]

“Das Biest is a father. You have heard?”

The woman around the table looked up from her poached pears. “A child?”

“A boy.”

“How do you know?”

“I hear things. The black woman is the child’s mother. Do you want me to—”

“Yes. Go, now.”

* * * * *

Giorgio let his hand fall from the passenger side of the door handle.

Gage looked at him from over the top of the car, forehead wrinkled. “Something wrong, mate?” he asked. “You forget something?”

“Da.” Giorgio looked back toward the farmhouse, the first place he’d truly ever had to call home.

He’d done a lot between the time he’d officially moved in with his Bez and Aleksi’s birth. While she’d told him she’d loved the house the way it was, it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been a home. Not until he’d painted the inside, every wall and piece of trim, the colors she’d wanted. Not until he’d broken down walls to find the brick hidden underneath to leave them exposed the way she’d seen on a home renovation TV show. Whatever furniture she wanted, he bought. If he couldn’t find it, he found a way to have it made.

His Bez assumed she’d given him a home by agreeing to be his wife and having his son, but it was much more than that. She’d given him things he didn’t think he would ever have, things he never thought he’d deserved. And she’d made him see just how much he did.

“I forget my wife,” he said, stalking back toward the front door.

Gage followed. “Mate, you know we can’t stay. It’s not time yet. We have a plan to stick to.”

Giorgio ignored him. There was no way he was going to leave them behind, not Mo and Aleksi. Anyone but them.

He pushed the front door open. A woman was standing in the foyer. On the floor in front of her, his Bez was shielding Aleksi with her body.

He started to reach for his machete, but before he had a chance to brandish it, the woman released four silent slugs into his chest.

Mo dashed up in bed. She reached behind the headboard for the pistol she kept strapped there. The Pozzas were a family of knives, but ever since she found out she was pregnant, she’d decided to add a little more heat to the mix.

The house was silent. There was no Giorgio getting shot in the entryway, no woman in the house. She checked the baby monitor to find Aleksi in his crib, awake but unharmed.

“Oh, God.” She set the gun beside her on the bed and let her face fall into her hands. “It was a dream, Mo. Just a dream.”

Tayler and Grey were due to join them in the morning, and she couldn’t wait. Although Gage wasn’t her brother, they’d grown up together. As far as she was concerned, his wife and child were her sister and nephew.

She pushed to her feet, stretched her arms over her head, and made her way down to Aleksi’s room. He was a good baby; he only cried when he was hungry for the most part. He was already a lot like his father, quiet and mysterious. They had the same dark eyes and dark hair, but Aleksi had blond strands interspersed that were most visible in sunlight. He had her nose and ears and, depending on his mood, a mix of both their smiles.

He also had her heart.

She’d never been more in love, could have never imagined being this much in love, with both the guys in her life.

It was odd, however, that he was awake in his crib in the middle of the night and not crying until the noise made her breasts ache.

She stepped into the room. “Little ryb—what the fuck?”

A woman, much like the one in her dream, stood over Aleksi’s crib. She was completely dressed in black, from the knitted cap on her head to the combat boots on her feet. Considering she hadn’t been on any of the cameras placed in the baby’s room, the woman had to have entered sometime between her checking the monitor and walking down the hall.

Mo grabbed a blade from the back of the changing table to her left. “Please step away from my baby,” she ordered. “I don’t want him to get your blood on his new onesie.”

The woman didn’t look up. When she spoke, her accent was heavy.

German.

“This is really the son of Auserwahlte? Our Chosen One?”

Mo began to calculate in her head the best way to slit the woman’s neck without any harm coming to Aleksi. “I won’t ask you again. Step, the fuck, away from my son.”

The woman tilted her head, studying Aleksi. When she finally looked up, a scar slashed across her face from the inside corner of her right eye to the left corner of her mouth. “He does not look like him. But, I suppose, that is because of you. You are a black woman, so that changes some things about his face. Your race is a fascinating one, however. You are a beautiful but savage people.”

Fuck this.

Mo started forward but was grabbed around the waist by someone behind her. The person was strong and, from the way the body felt, male.

“The baby comes with us,” the woman said.

Mo released the blade into the man’s thigh, pulled it out, switched it to her other hand, and jammed it back into his neck. A deep groan sounded behind her as the man fell.

The woman’s eyes rounded. “Who are you?”

Mo stepped toward the woman, swinging the blade. They were the same height and currently, she had the element of surprise on her side. They’d researched Giorgio, enough to find out he had a son, but not enough to find out who he’d had the son with. It was a handicap on their part. What kind of woman, other than her, would das Biest have a child with?

The woman brandished her own knife but was too late to block the blow. Mo slashed her blade across the woman’s face, giving her a matching scar, an X that completed the morbid artwork.

The nursery lights were dim, but she could tell the woman was slightly older—maybe in her early fifties. Her skin was pale and a shock of copper hair peeked from beneath her cap. Her eyes were a stark, cold gray, like the Russian winters Giorgio had told her about.

Mo slashed again, this time narrowly missing the woman’s throat, but she was able to change their positions so that she was now blocking Aleksi’s crib, and the woman was in the entryway, dabbing at her face in shock. There was a pistol strapped underneath Aleksi’s crib—which didn’t make her feel like the best mother—and she knew she’d be able to grab it and put a bullet in the woman before she had a chance to escape.

At least, she would have been able to before she’d had a life more valuable than her own to consider.

“I swear, if you come back to this house, I’m going to kill you,” she warned.

Whoever this woman was and whoever she represented, they’d been watching the house. When the men went on their missions, they were the only ones who knew. It wasn’t a coincidence they’d shown up the same night Giorgio had left.

“You think that will be enough to stop us from getting to him?” The woman jutted her chin in Aleksi’s direction. “He belongs to us. Auserwahlte belongs to us.”

Mo’s grip on the blade’s handle tightened. “Try and take my baby, bitch.”

The woman smirked. “Okay.”

Mo tossed the blade, narrowly missing the woman’s chest as she disappeared from the doorway. She didn’t hear a door open or shut, so she pressed a few buttons on Aleksi’s monitor, turning on all the lights in the house and slamming the door to the nursery.

She lifted him from his crib, went to his closet, and continued past the cartoon elephant wallpaper through a hidden doorway that led to a panic room. All the guys’ places had one, but she’d never expected to have to use the one at Giorgio Pozza’s.

The minute the door shut behind her, Aleksi started to cry.

She lowered into a chair and let down the strap on her nightgown. While he fed, she made a call first to Tayler to let her know there was a change of plans. And then, she made the call she never thought she would have to make, to Aleksi’s soon-to-be pissed Papa.

#3 – Ambush



02/03/2020



Sneak Preview

Giorgio cursed and tossed the tablet, the throbbing in his muscles nothing compared to the rage he felt that someone connected to Vater thought they could threaten his son.

Mo and Giorgio are from the book, “Angels and Assassins: The Dark Knight.”

Available on Amazon.com

My heart is with the nine people who lost their lives yesterday, including NBA Legend Kobe Bryant and his daughter, Gigi, a legend in the making.

The Darkest Knight #1

ALEKSI

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

[image error]

“One day, you will be great warrior, rybka.”

“Little fish?” Mo leaned against the doorjamb in the nursery entryway. Giorgio was on his back next to their son, Aleksi, who was wiggling on his belly on the room’s carpeted floor. Giorgio’s jean clad knees were bent while Aleksi garbled next to him, kicking his legs in his footed onesie.

“Your Russian is good, Bez.” Giorgio looked down his chest at her in the doorway. “And he is like fish. Look. His mouth.”

She crossed into the room and lay on the carpet on other side of their son. “What were you telling him?”

“Is, how you say, ‘no girls allowed.’”

Mo laughed, holding her stomach. “Girls rule and boys drool, Gio.”

“Is true. Always drooling, our little one.”

She turned onto her side at the same as he did. There was concern and sorrow on his gorgeous face, anger in those shark’s eyes. Giorgio and the group had been called out after they’d been blessed with four uninterrupted months with their son since his birth. Now, he was set to leave for the airport in less than ten minutes.

“Is impossible, lyubimaya moya.”

“I know. It’s hard now, with the baby.” A blush crawled up her face like ivy on a brick building. A man known around the world as das Biest was calling her “his love.”

“You think to leave you, Bez, is easy?” His brow rose, pushing the scar that slashed through it into his hairline. “I do not like to be away from you.”

Mo played with one of Aleksi’s little feet, keeping a count in her head of how much more tummy time he had left. “I know this.” She put on her best a Russian accent. “I try to make better.”

He smiled. “You want other baby.”

“Not so soon.”

“Your mouth saying Russian words, using Russian tongue . . . it will give you other baby.”

Mo gently flipped Aleksi onto his back. “There you go, little fish.”

Giorgio’s gaze fell to their son and lingered. She watched him and allowed the moment to imprint in her memories like the clay footprint they'd made of Aleksi's foot not long after he was born. With each trip the men took, it increased the likelihood of them not returning, and although Giorgio was one of the most skilled people she knew, if not the most, he wasn’t invincible. He wasn’t impenetrable. One wrong move, one lucky insurgent or missile or bullet could take him away forever. And she was completely uninterested in a life where he didn't exist by her side as her husband and son's father.

She swiped the back of her hand over her eyes. “I hate when you leave.”

He rose, lifting Aleksi in his arms, kneeled in front of her and took her chin. He slanted his mouth over hers but she could barely engage in the kiss. Her lips trembled and tears gushed from her eyes. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, and they remained frozen in place until the doorbell rang downstairs.

“You are strong." He leaned back and touched a kiss to the soft, wispy strands of hair on top of Aleksi's head. "The two of you."

They went downstairs to let Gage in.

Mo drew Gage in for a hug the minute he stepped into the entryway, more than just in greeting. She knew he needed as much comfort as she did. "Hey, Gage. How are Tayler and Grey?”

Gage cleared his throat, his green eyes misting over. "Managing."

"And you?"

“Not good, love."

She gave Gage another long, tight hug and then turned around to find Giorgio looking down at Aleksi, his lips moving but his words inaudible. Then, he touched his forehead to his son's, graced him with another kiss too tender than the monster people often took him for, and handed him to Mo.

"I'll be in the car," Gage said, motioning to the open front door. "We don't have much time, but take your time, big man."

She cradled Aleksi against her chest and rocked him, swaying gently from side to side while Giorgio watched Gage leave over her head. When Giorgio’s gaze lowered and their eyes connected, her tears returned, in abundance. 

"Is painful.”

She nodded, could barely speak. "Mhm."

"I am sorry."

"It's not your fault, Gio." She firmed her chin. "Plus, you're gonna come back."

"Da. I will not leave you. For my life, I will not leave you."

He lowered his mouth to hers. Her hand first cradled the side of his face and then slipped into the hairs at his nape. This time, she tried her best to will her mouth to move, to indulge in the sweetness that was her beast, her lover, her husband. He nibbled on her bottom lip, the index finger on one hand still swiping tears while his other hand held her as close to him as she could get while holding their son.

When they parted, it was like she'd been harpooned through her heart, the weapon now, slowly, being removed.

“You will be safe, Bez?”

She nodded. “I will."

"I will check for you. Until you are sick to hear from me."

A laugh sputtered between her lips. "I could never get sick of hearing from you, baby."

He kissed her forehead. "You will go to Tayler?"

"She's coming here with Grey."

"Tell me how you feel, Bez."

She gave him the best smile she could. "I love you, Gio. With every single part of me."

"And is still not more than how I feel, for you and for our little fish." He took her hand placed it over his heart. "This where you live, Bez."

He kissed her again and moved to the door where he stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her in the morning sun in her black tank top and pajama bottoms, Aleksi kicking and babbling in his father's direction.

"Ya lyublyu tebya, Mo."

“I love you too, Gio.”

When he started off, she closed her eyes. In the event something happened, her last image of him was not going to be his back as he walked away.

#2 – The Chosen One



01/27/2020



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“Das Biest is a father. You have heard?”

The woman around the table looked up from her poached pears. “A child?”

“A boy.”

“How do you know?”

“I hear things. The black woman is the child’s mother.”

The Darkest Knight – Online Series

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My "After The End" online series returns in one week with the newest installment: The Darkest Knight.

“You think to leave you, Bez, is easy?” His brow rose, pushing the scar that slashed through it into his hairline. “I do not like to be away from you.”

Mo played with one of Aleksi’s little feet, keeping a count in her head of how much more tummy time he had left. She put on her best a Russian accent.

“I know this. I try to make better.”

He smiled. “You want other baby.”

“Not so soon.”

“Your mouth saying Russian words, using Russian tongue . . . it will give you other baby.”

The Gatekeeper is LIVE!

Excuse the double image post. Seems like WordPress wasn’t prepared for 2020 lol.

Something different pulled her, hard, this time in the opposite direction, jerking her soggy, soaking, and sandy body from beneath the earth and up against it. Through her blurred lenses, she saw the face of a man—angry green eyes, thick brows pinched in the middle, waves of dark hair soaked straight around his face. The tresses dangled well below his shoulders. 

His voice was deep, and his tone reminded her of the thorns in those wild rosebushes. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

Tia almost pulled away from him in favor of the pit. “What?”

His gaze roamed her face. He made no attempt to release her, and she clung to him like a cat in a tree. What the island lacked in large predators, he made up for with the way he growled out each sentence. 

“Do you even know where you are?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m on the island of Tauati.”

“Why are you here?”

“Sir, I just need help. Please.” Between the fogged glasses and the near-blindness she’d been born with in her left eye, he was slowly disappearing from sight. “If you help me to my phone over there, I’ll call my crew and get out of your hair.” 

His torso was bare. A dark blue ‘ie lavalava, a Polynesian traditional patterned wrap, was tied around his waist, clinging to thighs that felt like tree trunks. Tribal tattoos decorated his chest, shoulder, part of his neck, and created a sleeve down his arm, extending to his fingers.

“I should leave you out here to teach you a lesson.” 

It was what he said, but he tightened his hold against her. 

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The Rules of The Game: Episode 008

Read Episode 007 Here!

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

The End



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There was something about husband sex.

Sommer couldn’t explain it, but there’d been something different about the way Austin felt moving inside her ever since the first night of their honeymoon even though they’d had a one-year-old by the time they’d gotten married. She’d assumed that, by now, things would have changed—and they had. They had careers, a household to run, and two small children so, of course, things weren’t as spontaneous as they used to be.

But the sex was still magnificent.

Austin’s hips stopped thrusting, and he trailed a path of kisses down the middle of her back. “You feel so damn good, baby.”

She steadied her grip on the wall behind the headboard. After everything had died down, they’d taken a much-needed trip to the Bahamas.

Matt’s phone had been clutch in getting her case to move forward. Instead of going directly to him, Giselle had brought the team owners in on the matter. She’d threatened that if they didn’t take swift action, she would go public with the information and reveal that they’d known what was going on and decided to hide it. The information leaked anyhow because there’d been audio included in the video of Austin beating Matt’s ass, which had led to a few other women coming forward. Apparently, Sommer wasn’t the only one he’d ever harassed in his career. Matt was subsequently released from the team and the last she heard, he was in Canada trying to get some playing time in the league there.

The team hadn’t needed him in the first place so, after a close call in the playoffs, they made it all the way to the NFC Championship, won, and Austin was able to bring another ring to the city of Dallas.

He lowered and latched onto her clit from behind, forcing a hiss between her teeth. Sommer pulled her hands away from the wall and grabbed the headboard, needing something to grip and hold on to as his tongue and lips sucked her into a frenzy.

He pressed a kiss against the sticky lips between her legs. “Flip over for me, beautiful.”

She managed, somehow, to maneuver onto her back despite her brain not currently functioning at an optimal level. He was poised over her, harder than brick, thick dick in his large hands, stroking as he let his gaze roam the entire length of her body.

“Please, Austin.”

He smiled, golden eyes going even brighter in the Caribbean sunlight streaming through the windows. She still loved those strong shoulders, that Superman chest. The way his waist tapered, the rows of taut abs down his middle, and the powerful thighs that made him one of the league’s best play extenders. The ESPN Body issue where he was featured was one of their top-selling releases.

“Please what, baby?”

Just looking at his body made her reach between her legs to stroke her aching clit. “I want you.”

He lifted her hand, pulling it away from the wet, engorged flesh, and buried his face between her thighs.

Sommer’s back arched. She grabbed the sheets to steady herself against the onslaught of his soft, soft tongue flicking her clit, but it only caused her hips to lift instead. He lifted his head, licked his lips, and parted her further.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm.” He glanced up at her, winked. “I’m never going to get enough of you, you know that, right?”

She wondered if he recognized how dark his voice had gotten, how thick each syllable left his mouth. His dick was straining, practically begging for him to fuck her. He dragged his tongue over her clit in a long lick and slipped his fingers into her body.

“Austin.” Sommer licked her lips, nearly on the verge of tears. “Don’t do the thing.”

He sucked and then circled the bud, wrapping it around his tongue.

“Austin, you know I can’t handle—”

He started doing the thing.

She grabbed the full, silky strands of his hair as he pushed his tongue inside her, licked the entire length of her slit. The swell of orgasm started from somewhere deep inside her, drawing nearer each time the tip of his tongue flicked the tip of her clit.

“Austin…” Her grip tightened. Her hips undulated. “Oh, my god.”

She cried out as the swell built, on the cusp of release. Then, right as she started to come, he sunk his dick deep inside her.

“Fuck.” Her hips rocked. “Oh, God.” Her body convulsed, vibrating along the length of his shaft. “Aus…tin.”

He pressed his thumb against her clit until her body stopped trembling and spasming. Then, he slipped the thumb into her mouth.

She sucked on the digit. A deep growl of a moan tore from his chest and his hips began to move again.

“You did the thing,” she said, breathless.

He laughed. “I like the thing. You come so hard, baby.”

She sucked on his middle finger. “You like making me come hard?”

His bottom lip disappeared into his mouth. “Fuck.”

“You like making me come all over your dick?”

The speed of his thrusts increased, and he hovered over her, palms pressed against the mattress. She sunk her fingers into his backside to draw him in further. The first orgasm had cleared the way for the sequel, and everything in her mind dissolved into incoherent mush.

“I love you, Austin Riley.”

He groaned. “Forever?”

“Forever.”

She cried out. Exploded. Seconds later, her name ripped from his throat as his length spurted and throbbed inside her, filling her with what would have definitely been another baby had she not gotten an IUD right after Eli.

He lowered until his chest met hers but kept most of his weight in his arms to avoid crushing her beneath his large body.

“Can you count to ten?” he asked.

“No.” She giggled. “I can’t get past fiven.”

He laughed and pushed onto his side. Before he could reach for her, she went to him.

“A surprise trip to the Bahamas was exactly what we needed.” She slid her naked body over his. “I love you.”

He caressed her cheek. “I love you too, Som.”

“And about Matt—”

“Water under the bridge, baby.”

She nodded. “Right.”  

“Are you still doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” She pressed her cheek against his abs. “I’m great. You’ve been the best support, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“This, us,” he motioned between them, “isn’t an experiment. It’s not a celebrity hookup. I’m in this for life. You, Livvie, and Eli mean everything to me, Sommer. Every-damn-thing. I’d give it all up for the three of you, no questions asked. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to thank me. You deserve everything I do for you and so much more.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky. Life, for her, was perfect. She didn’t need a toddler who never threw tantrums—Eli was easily a Guinness World Record contender for tantrums—or a daughter who never pouted or went against her mother’s wishes. She didn’t need a husband who never got under her skin, never messed up, and never made irrational decisions. All she needed was this, the man who’d been her best friend even when, as children, they’d pretended to hate each other to hide their real feelings.

“This vacation is perfect.” He pulled her up his body and wrapped his arms around her. If she let him, they would fall asleep that way and miss all the festivities.

“Before you get too comfortable, there’s something I haven’t told you.”

He looked down at her. “You’re pregnant?”

“Jesus, no.”

“Damn it.”

“You want another baby? Babe, we can’t even control Eli!”

“What if we tried for one more?”

She pushed against his abs, pushed herself up until she straddled him. “Uh, next subject. We’re here for more than one reason. Can you guess the second reason?”

He studied her face. Then, he looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the beach.

“No.”

She nodded. “Yes. Austin, you told your mother you’re okay with her getting married to your sports agent.”

“I am. On most days.” He sighed. “When’s the wedding?”

“On our second-to-last day here. Gary’s setting it up as a surprise for Ms. Emma. I wanted us to fly out early so we could get some time alone to enjoy each other. They’ll bring the kids and then we’ll fly back to Dallas with Liv and Eli.”

“And she’s sure she wants to marry this guy?”

Sommer took his face between her hands. “Austin, your mother’s screwing your sports agent.”

He groaned.

“Gary’s been getting all up in it.” She worked her hips. “All in that.”

He flipped her over, her squealing the entire way until her back met the thousand-plus thread count sheets.

“My mother’s only done that twice. Once for Arielle and another for me.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He smiled, his mouth stretched wide and a glow covering his sex-flushed skin. “Well then, I guess I should tell you that me and Case think your brother’s in love.”

Sommer’s mouth fell open. “What? Details!”

He lifted her leg over his hip and slipped back inside her body. “You want details?”

She mumbled a response.

“What’s that, now?” He rolled a nipple between his index finger and thumb. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I, uh, mmm, spot.”

He laughed and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

“Mmm…Austin.”

 

The End

Coming in january



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Episode 001 – Aleksi



Sneak Preview

“One day, you will be great warrior, rybka.”

“Little fish?” Mo leaned against the door jamb in the nursery entryway. Giorgio was on his back next to their son, Aleksi, who was wiggling on his belly on the room’s carpeted floor. Giorgio’s jean clad knees were bent while Aleksi garbled next to him, kicking his legs in his footed onesie.

“Your Russian is good, Bez.” Giorgio looked down his chest at her in the doorway. “And he is like fish. Look at his mouth.”

She crossed into the room and lay down on the other side of their son. “What were you telling him?”

“Is, how you say, ‘no girls allowed.’”

Mo laughed, holding her stomach. “Girls rule and boys drool, Gio.”

“Is true. Always drooling, our little one.”

She turned onto her side at the same as he did. There was concern and sorrow on his gorgeous face, anger in those shark’s eyes. Giorgio and the group had been called out after they’d been blessed with four uninterrupted months with their son since his birth. Now, he was set to leave for the airport in less than ten minutes.

“Is impossible, lyubimaya moya.”

“I know. It’s hard now, with the baby.” A blush crawled up her face like ivy on a brick building. A man known around the world as Das Biest was calling her his love.

“You think to leave you, Bez, is easy?” His brow rose, pushing the scar that slashed through it into his hairline. “I do not like to be away from you, my Bez.”

Mo played with one of Aleksi’s little feet, keeping a count in her head of how much more tummy time he had left. “I know this.” She put on her best a Russian accent. “I was trying to make better.”

He smiled. “You want other baby.”

“Not so soon.”

“Your mouth saying Russian words, using Russian tongue . . . it will give you other baby.”

The Rules of The Game: Episode 007

Read Episode 006 Here!

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

The Time Has Come



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The coach extended a ball in Austin’s direction he barely registered. He’d probably had one of the best games of his career finish not even a half hour ago; it was amazing what rage could do for focus. Next, he would have to talk to the press after giving a quick, on-the-spot interview on the field. He’d had to give the interview with Matt standing right next to him since Matt had recorded a career record number of sacks. 

Matt had placed his hand on Austin’s shoulder pad while he smiled and flirted with the reporter. He’d gripped and released the shoulder, lying about how they’d settled their off-the-field issues because they’d agreed to do what was best for the team.

But they hadn’t.

And, as the coach’s segued into a victory speech, Matt sat disengaged in the far corner of the locker room looking at something on his phone . . . and smiling . . . and adjusting himself.

Sommer asked me not to intervene.

Austin felt something sharp hit him in the back—a slap. He looked down into the coach’s face. “Hmm? Oh, right.”

He rattled off a quick, semi-rehearsed game-ball winning speech, cheers went up around the room, and the group disbanded in a cloud of musk to head for the showers.

Cold water did nothing to temper his rage. Warm, clean clothes had absolutely none of the calming effect they usually had. Today, there was no lingering pain and soreness that usually happened once the game time adrenaline abated, likely because it had been replaced with a different kind of adrenaline.

While he understood Sommer’s stance on wanting to do everything the legal way, she didn’t seem to understand his. Sometimes, men could be assholes in more ways than one. 

There was the kind of asshole he could be at times, the type that reared its head in long relationships which could usually be dealt with while still loving that person. He sometimes didn’t unload the dishwasher. Or load it. Once, when Sommer was out of town, the kids ate fast food for a week straight and he pretended he didn’t know what they were talking about when they asked if he would be bringing home the “greasy bags” for dinner again. He was a hazard in the kitchen and kept trying to make dinner despite nearly losing fingers, toes, and causing fires in the process. Eli had learned to say “shit” because of him.

Then there were the Matts. The types that had entire movements created in order to seek and destroy their kind until they no longer had any power in public spaces. Matt wouldn’t be the first professional sports player to abuse his notoriety as if his celebrity gave him some kind of untouchable sheen, and he wouldn’t be the last. But there was no way, in hell, he was going to continue what he was doing to Sommer without physical intervention.

She wasn’t sleeping through the night.

She cringed whenever her phone went off.

She disengaged often, daydreaming or simply going somewhere far off, in her mind, where he was sure not even she knew.

It was trauma, and the only way Austin knew how to fight trauma was with more of it. 

“Is there a reason Sommer asked me to keep an eye on you?” Lincoln Hayes, Sommer’s younger brother and one of the team’s starting wideouts, was standing over him.

Austin pulled a sweater over his head. “I don’t know. Did she say anything specific?”

“She said you guys have been going through it.” Lincoln rubbed a white towel over his face. The man had an entire skin care regimen that some of the players teased him about but had secretly copied. “And that you might not be acting like yourself.”

Cason walked up wearing a slim-fit dark green suit. 

“Whoo.” Lincoln brushed his fingers over the blazer. “Casket sharp, brother. Where are you going?”

Cason fiddled with his tie, almost as if self-conscious. “I’m taking Amelia out to dinner. With the new baby pushing us into sleep deprivation, I feel like she hasn’t been feeling appreciated. I want to make sure she knows she’s still bae.”

Lincoln cringed. “Even I don’t say that . . . anymore. And I’m younger than you two ‘old heads.’”

Cason waved him off. Austin barely heard a word of the exchange. On the other side of the locker room, Matt was staring at his phone again. 

“What are you watching that has you looking like that, Matt?” Jason Autry, a six-time Pro-Bowl defensive lineman, rushed over and slipped the phone from Matt’s hand. “Damn. Those are some nice tits. What is this, voyeur porn? She looks like she’s getting smashed in a broom closet.”

“Austin.” Cason grabbed Austin's hand and used all his strength to pull back on the limb. “Come on, man!"

Blood spotted Austin's undershirt and smeared his knuckles. Bells rang in his ears. He couldn’t recall leaving his spot in front of Cason or Lincoln, moving across the room, or slamming his fist into Matt’s face. Repeatedly.

"You want to try again, Matt?” His voice carried throughout the silenced locker room. “You want to try sending pictures of your dick to my wife again?"

Cason released Austin's arm and stepped back. "Are you serious? Man, Austin . . . do your thing."

“What the fuck?” Lincoln stepped forward. “You did what to my sister?”

Jason stepped between them. All the remaining players in the locker room had polarized in their direction, but no one offered to help Matt up from the floor. His nose was off center and bloodied, and his expression hovered between wanting to show anger but unable to because of pain. 

“What’s going on here?” The coach came running toward the commotion. When he saw what had occurred, he ran his hand over his head. “Good Lord. Wilson, you have a press appearance in fifteen minutes.”

“Let him go bloody.” Austin clenched and unclenched his swelling hand. “And when they ask why, let him tell them the truth.”

Matt pushed to his feet and swiped the back of his hand across his face. “You act like you’re some kind of fuckin’ goody-two shoes, Riley, when you’re some hick from a small, backwards ass town in North Carolina. I’m from Georgia, so I know how to appreciate a corn-fed black woman with a body and ass . . . like your wife’s.”

Austin started forward but both the coach, Jason, and a few other players pressed him back, choruses of, “It’s not worth it” rising around him like steam.

Lincoln shook his head. “Austin’s got kids to think about. I don’t. And I’m used to causing trouble. Mess with my sister again and see what happens.”

The coach positioned himself next to Jason. “Cut this mess out. Wilson, Riley, the team’s canceling your appearances. Don’t be surprised if both your asses warm the bench these next few games too.”

“You think I care?” Austin asked. “You think I’m going to care about a damn suspension when it comes to protecting my wife?”

The coach pointed. “Austin, go!”

Austin grabbed his duffel bag and left the locker room. He didn’t see or care which direction Matt went in, as long as they didn’t run into each other at any point between the stadium doors and the parking lot.  

“Austin!”

He turned around just as he got to his car door. Jason was running his direction.

“Here. Before he realizes I still have it.”

Austin took Matt’s phone, a smirk on his face. “Thanks, man.”

“I’ve got daughters,” Jason said. “Sisters. Even if the owners don’t boot him, maybe he’ll get charged with something. We don’t need that kind of energy on the team.”

“Agreed.” Austin slipped the phone into his pocket and slapped hands with Jason. “Thanks again. Sommer really needed this.”

 

* * * * *

 

Sommer glanced up at the clock, sighed, and continued to pace the bedroom. Usually, Austin would be home by now, but she knew he was stalling and avoiding her calls because of what had been leaked on Twitter—him pummeling Matt Wilson in the Dallas locker room.

Dammit, baby. You promised.

The alarm system chimed, indicating the garage door opening, and she stared at the doorway until his tall frame appeared in the middle. 

He leaned against the door jamb. “Hey.”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. Let me see your hand.”

He held up what was supposed to be a hand but looked like an oversized baseball mitt.

“You couldn’t at least hit him with your left hand?” she asked. “That’s your throwing hand.”

“I won’t be using it for a couple games. Suspensions and all.” He shrugged. “Oh well.”

“Oh well? Austin, I asked you to keep your cool.”

“And I tried. I just failed.”

She let her head fall, released a breath, and relocated to sit at the edge of the bed. “I saw the video on Twitter. You straight ‘Falcon-punched’ Matt. What happened?”

“I snapped. He was looking at the video he took of you.”

“In the locker room?”

Austin eased up off the door jamb and came to sit next to her. “Yep. Autry grabbed his phone, joking about him looking at amateur porn, but then he said something about a woman in a broom closet.”

She shifted in his direction, bending a knee on the mattress. “It could have been amateur porn.”

“I saw the video.” His face shadowed. “It was you, and it wasn’t just your breasts. You can see your face, your torso. Clearly. These damn, good ass iPhone cameras.” He drew her into his side. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about? None of this is your fault.”

“I was the one who took you into that broom closet.”

“And we’ve had sex in there dozens of times without any sort of issues.” She pushed on his chest, looked up at him. “We’re married with two children under six. We pretty much have to get it in where we can.”

“Still. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it differently.”

“Is that why you were late? You didn’t want to face me?”

He smiled. “No. I stopped by Giselle’s office and then I had a couple beers at Lincoln’s place. Had to talk him out of calling some ‘goons.’”

She tittered a laugh. “Lincoln and his goons. It’s another reason why I wanted this kept under wraps. Lincoln has way less restraint than you do, and you barely have any.”

He slid his hand up and down her arm.

“Wait, Giselle’s office?”

“I saw the video on Matt’s phone,” he emphasized. “When Autry took his phone, he didn’t give it back. He brought it to me instead.”

The whites of her eyes burned. “And it can be verified it’s Matt’s phone?”

“It already has. That, and the fact that the video was recorded using that specific phone. He even still has the texts where he sent you his junk and you asked him to stop.”

She tossed her arms around his neck but eased back when she accidentally crushed his sore hand. 

Sommer took the good hand and led him to the kitchen. Austin sat at one of the bar stools while she grabbed a bag of frozen peas, took the seat across from him, and held it on his knuckles.

“Giselle hasn’t said yet what’s going to happen,” he continued. “I’m guessing it’s going to be some kind of mediation. This is convenient timing because the state of Texas literally just banned unsolicited dick pics. I mean, it’s a meager punishment but Matt’s career is on the line. His notoriety is working against him in this instance.”

When Sommer realized she’d missed parts of the conversation and that he’d been calling her name for a while, she shook her head and fixed her gaze to his. “Sorry.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot.”

“Stress.” She shifted the bag of peas. “And because I don’t understand his motives. I may never understand them. There are so many other women who would give him the time of day.”

One of Austin’s shoulders lifted. “He wants you.”

“But I don’t want him. Shouldn’t that matter?”

“To some men, that makes you more appealing. I think it’s a combination of how you look, who you are, and men coming out of the woodwork to prove they can be better to you than ‘racist’ old Austin Riley.”

It had been nearly five years since the incident with his father, but it never ceased to stop plaguing them. Nearly every interview or conversation they had, a question would eventually pop up regarding their interracial relationship or if Austin’s “true nature” had reared its head yet. Once, she was even asked if he had a hard time accepting their brown children.

“Is Matt the first to approach you?” he asked. “Even if they weren’t serious.”

“No.” She lifted the bag, checked the swelling, and lowered it again. “I’m approached often, but most of the time, it’s like a fisherman testing bait. They want to see if I give them the time of day. If I bite.”

“And have you ever—”

“Don’t.” She shot him a look. “After all that mess with Carmen, if I haven’t asked if you’ve been cheating on me, don’t ask me if I’ve been fooling around on you. I’m satisfied with what I have. When I stop being satisfied—”

“Don’t.”

She smiled. “It wasn’t the best way to go about everything, but thank you, Austin. For caring and being my protector. I get it, that as a husband and father, you needed that.”

“We’re still leaving this house.”

“Okay.” She tossed the bag of peas on the counter, slipped from the bar stool, and reclaimed the uninjured hand. “But, for now, are you healthy enough for me to show my gratitude?”

Austin let himself be led. “I think I can manage.”

ONE Episode Left!

Episode 008 – The End



12/27/2019



Sneak Preview

"A surprise trip to the Bahamas was exactly what I needed." Sommer slid her naked body over Austin's. "I love you."

"I love you too, Som."

"And about Matt . . . "