For Your Sake (33 page)

And a silent way to claim her body as his.

She muffled her own scream of pleasure against the wall as he came hard, his cock twitching inside her in the process.  Their pounding hearts, their heavy panting, the sheen of sweat covering her forehead and upper lip, the coming down process was like a peaceful sunrise after a satisfying night’s sleep.  Slowly he pulled out, clamping her legs together as he bent down to pick up the torn thong.  “Use this,” he said, then picked up her cheekies.  “I like these better anyway.”

“Way to make your point,” she said, quickly wiping herself.

He pulled up his boxers and jeans, then nuzzled her neck from behind.  “Didn’t seem to mind, darlin’.  In fact,” his hand caressed her ass through her dress, “you really got into it.” That was just my hand.”  His lips found her ear, his breath hot and tingly.  “Imagine what my tongue can do.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Sit down, gentlemen.  Quiet time’s over.” Vic wasn’t an impatient man by nature, but his orneriness elevated a notch or two when his hackles went up.  And that usually happened when his wife had to drag him to some town ass-kiss-fest or when trouble circled his club like a vulture.  Right now, he’d much prefer putting on a tux and kissing the first selectman’s ring than this. 

Ben knew that look and it wasn’t good.  “Chatter, pres?”

Vic nodded, then swept a hand down to Wes.  “You’re on, brother.”

The young intel officer perked up on the edge of his chair, having the ear of every man around the table.  “Been teamin’ up with the other charter IOs last two weeks.  Had some feelers out, ears to the ground, cells bein’ monitored.  Just like the last two weeks – been quiet.  Except yesterday.  Lot of outgoin’ calls on Joey Perrone’s cell – especially to his uncle.  Was able to lift Uncle Emie’s number, traced about five calls made to here.”  Wes spun his laptop around showin’ the number pointing to a location via a satellite monitoring system he broke through.  “Uniontown, Penn. Google Earth shows a botanical place – Giordano’s Flowers.  Owner – Paulie Giordano.  Did a little family tree climbin’ and guess who’s at the top?”

Doug snorted.  “No brainer – Emilio Santagio.” Doug would know the answer to something that didn’t require brains, Ben thought to himself.

“Connection?” Aero asked.

Wes cleared his throat.  “Remember that last run we did in August when they wanted us to meet them at the Penn border?  Reason because they were rendezvousin’ with someone in Uniontown for a…’delivery’?  Remember the truck that was there?”

August seemed so long ago, but Ben’s mind was sharp.  “It was a flower truck.”

“A
Giordano’s
Flower truck,” Wes emphasized, turning the laptop back.  “One of the other IOs got a fix on activity there the last week.  Couple of suspicious night deliveries out – and I’m guessin’ they ain’t flowers.  Did a search on Paulie.  Didn’t have to look too far – the guy’s got charges up the ying-yang……..includin’,” Wes worked his fingers then spun the laptop around again, “gun runnin’.”

Taz played with his pointy black beard.  “You think those deliveries
in
are guns?”

“I think these night deliveries
out
are.  Paulie was drivin’.  The other IO locked onto his cell as a GPS.  Guess where the destination was?”

“Please don’t say here in Tippitt,” Aero groaned.

“Close enough.  Angelina’s Trattoria in Westover.”

“Emilio’s restaurant,” Tanner stated.  “If he’s havin’ guns delivered there – in-state….?”

“He’s arming up,” Ben cut in, then looked to Vic.  “Which means he’s anticipating a war.”

“Or plannin’ to start one,” Doug added.  The SAA shook his head then looked at Vic.  “They come into Tippitt with that kind of firepower which we can’t match…..”

“That ain’t for us.”  Ben spoke confidently and calmly.  “Not the brunt of it.  My guess, Emilo’s future plans made it to the table he’s planning to swipe it from.”

Vic sat back heavy in his chair.  “The Caprese family.”

Ben nodded.  “Remember what Emilio said when we met – about ready to come after
Don
Carmine’s son, Adamo, ‘
guns blazing’?”

Wes furiously worked the mouse pad to call up a number of news sites.  “No report of Carmine’s death.  Emilio said he wouldn’t fully dive in until the ol’ man died.  By then Adamo Caprese would’ve realized Emilio took over the heroin pipeline and wouldn’t have his ol’ man’s clout to take it back.  Unless…..”

“…..unless the Caprese’s got word of Emilio’s plan via his big mouth and are planning a counter-attack,” Aero said.

“But that’s
their
beef,” Tanner spoke up.  “I don’t care what they do to each other.  What does this mean for us?  We can’t ignore the possibility of Emilio makin’ a pit stop here first to turn Tippitt upside down lookin’ for those narcotics.  And we can’t just hand them over and risk another set up.”

“Tanner’s right,” Ben said.  “We ain’t that level of outlaw that we can take on a
family
bold enough to muscle out the biggest one on the east coast.  We’ve got three other charters in this state – that’s it.  Yeah, these guys’ll answer the call, but the last thing we need is a bloodbath and more dead brothers.”

Vic had that look as if he was too old for this shit.  He and the Skulls enjoyed the comfort of a nice little setup established back in the eighties without a bump in the road.  Now that comfort zone had a huge pothole in it.  “I want any tracking, tracing, whatever between cells, GPS watched like a hawk.  If anyone takes a dump, I want to know about it. I want twenty-four/seven armed security on this place and the gate closed and locked at all times. If the Santagios plan on paying us an unexpected visit, we need heads up.”

“Then what?”  Doug asked.  “How we gonna fight ‘em if a fight is what they’re bringin’?”

The shit that got real two Saturdays ago just got more so, Ben thought to himself.  He made himself a fixture in Eva’s life, made it be known there was no turning back for her.  With the shit now swirling around Tippitt like an invisible predator, he needed to be sure she knew her place – and that was with him.  He let her dally long enough these past few weeks, letting her plan her event, select paint colors and pretend it was all going to go away soon.  It wasn’t.  Not yet.  Not until the club knew for sure.  Which means he needed her complete and unconditional trust in him.  And…..love.  Yeah, that’s right.  He loved the little blue-eyed minx and she was just going to have to deal with it.  Accept it.

Not push him away.

Rubbing his frustrated brow, Vic thought a bit then turned to Aero.  “Get the other three charters on the phone.  Set up a conference call,” he looked down at Wes, “secure land line.  We all need to discuss this – ASAP.  Tonight if possible, so keep your schedules clear, boys.”

~~~***~~~

              For someone who didn’t like a mess, Ben sure made one heck of a one in the kitchen.

              True to his vision, he had brought Eva countertop samples, hardwood samples, backsplash samples, hardware samples and wood grain samples for the butcher block.   As if she wasn’t inundated enough at the store with samples of every single chotchke item a potential brought by for her consider selling.  Geez, was she starting to adopt Ben’s minimalistic quirks?

              With the store in Marie’s capable hands today and Jen able to remote Eva’s laptop in, she decided to work from home today.  But instead, decided to take a breather from all the plaza event stuff and give some much needed attention to her house.  Her first job was to get the upper cabinets painted and new hardware installed before she decided on the countertops.  She and Ben had enough on their plates, but this was a cathartic break from the reality outside their door.  And he seemed to be into it more than she, a testament to his never having a ‘real’ home.

              She decided on a soft cream to keep it neutral and bronze-finish hardware before getting a chicken roaster into the oven.  She and Ben had been like two ship passing in the night the last week between work and the club, but she wanted to have something ready to eat when he got in.  She was beginning to find cooking therapeutic as well.

              The familiar sound of a Harley pulling up on the side of the house, signaled Ben was home.  Did she really just refer to her Victorian as his ‘home’?  He practically lived here and was going full blast into commencing her kitchen reno.  But…..this was
her
house.  Her choice.  Her plan.  Was she really falling into a co-habitative routine without realizing it?  Yes, she loved him.  No, they hadn’t declared it to each other.  It was like the last piece of this convoluted puzzle of a relationship they had.  Holding that one piece back was like a shred of control each were clinging to.

              The sound of tires softly rolling into the back patio made her smile.  Ben preferred his bike in the backyard as opposed to the street or the driveway.  It was like he didn’t want to claim any additional personal space he already invaded.  But she didn’t think of it as that.  She was slowly beginning to fall into this spontaneous routine and……liking it, despite the unknown which hovered around them.

              She opened up the sliders to meet him as he parked his bike and swung off.  Without even noticing her, he walked over to the wood pile and began to gather several big logs in his arms.  He then pulled his weary form up the deck stairs.  He looked…….worn out.  Beaten.  Not physically.  Not ever.  He was too rock solid of a man for anything to dent him.   “Hey.  Don’t worry about the fireplace…..”

              “Gonna be cold tonight, Eva.”

              Even his voice was heavy with fatigue.  He wasn’t a man to be deterred once he set his mind to something and he had a fondness for the fireplace.  She put a hand on his back. “Coffee?  Beer?”

              He smiled warmly at her touch and shook his head then disappeared into the living room.  The smell of the chicken permeated the kitchen and a fire would soon be crackling.  In another month her home would be filled with the scent of pine, cinnamon, cookies and that brisk deep chill of winter.  But right now, the man who had taken over her life in a mere two months consumed her emotions.

Giving the chicken a quick check, she went to the living room and her breath was taken away.  His body shed of his cut, his hoodie, his flannel work shirt which were tossed on the chair.  He stood in a tight t-shirt and Wranglers before the fire he just built, hands braced on either side of the fieldstone as he stared down at it.  This big mountain of a man, every gloriously, muscled inch of him illuminated by the fire, looked as if his world was crumbling down and was taking comfort in the warm blaze.  In her home. 
Their
home.  Who was she kidding anymore?  Every choice and rule she made for herself just went out the window when this man crossed her on a dark, mountainside road.  “Ben?”

He barely flinched at his name, instead his chest heaved up and down with a heavy, intake of breath.  “Come here, Eva.”

He didn’t have to ask her twice.  Whatever it was, she was ready.  She was so very ready to take the place of that fire and be whatever he needed to ease whatever burden was crippling him.  Never had she had the urge to give as she did this very moment.  She touched his arm, and he turned towards her – taking her in an embrace so fierce, a kiss so violent Eva saw stars.  Hands roamed everywhere – hers, his, over clothing and any bit of skin they could find.  His, the size of bear paws, dug into her hair as she did the same, loosening the small ponytail until those dark-blonde locks were free.

“Ben.” She wasn’t sure, but Eva figured that had to be her voice, amazed she could even speak at all.  “Ben, what?”  She spoke whenever his mouth lifted from hers.  “What is it?  What happened?”

He fisted her hair, holding her head so far back she couldn’t move.  “
You
, darlin’.”  His voice was low as he snarled out each phrase.  “
You
happened.  That fucking night happened.  That damn, blue dress, the sight of you with an ax, straddling me on that chair, this house, how hard you come when I fuck you, the smell of dinner, the smell of this fire…….fuck, the smell of
you
– it
all
happened.  With all this shit circling around us,
you
happened.  I said no turning back, Eva.  You’re mine.  Every fucking inch of you – and I mean
every
inch.  You get my meaning?”  He lifted her up, then dropped to his knees on the floor, carefully laying her down in front of the fire.  “I want it, darlin’.  And you’re gonna give it to me – freely.  We close this deal now!”

She knew what he meant and she didn’t care to fight.  There was no way she could push him away now.  Once she let this man fully in, there was no letting him out.  Her world, her life, her house, her body – everything.  His body slid down hers as his hand went in the opposite direction up her leg until he grabbed the waist of her jersey pants, pulling them down, exposing a pair of lavender, lace cheekies.  “I love these panties you wear.”  He briefly turned her, “the way your ass peeks out.  Fucking sexy as hell.”

“Take them off.”  She was insistent.  Several times he wanted to do this and she always clamped up.  Not now.  Not anymore.  Not this time.  She wanted him to back up that boast about his tongue.  “Now.”

He kissed the skin right above her panties, sliding his face down until his teeth grazed the lace.  He bit, lifted and let them go – hearing them snap back.  She squirmed into the area rug, the fireplace heating her face even more as his finger looped through the leg to pull them down. 
“Ben.”
  Her back arched, her body pleaded, her hands reached for the sides of his head where the shaved areas tickled her fingers. 
“Yeah.”