If Tomorrow Never Comes (3 page)

Despite
Jake’s childish tantrums that were widening Margaret’s grin, her glare said she
anticipated an explanation.
 

“Don’t
ask,” he snapped impatiently.
     
           

Admittedly
confused, nevertheless Margaret felt warm all over as if wearing a fur
wrap.
  
For the first time in two years,
Jake had completely lost control.
    
Anger was good, she decided, better than brooding and drinking.
 
Believing it best at the time, Margaret turned
and left making it to the other side of the door before giving into the chuckles
shaking her chest.

Not
until the prisoner had been quiet far too long, did Jake think about the
possibility of suicide.
  
A sudden rush
of anxiety reminding him that he was never lucky brought him quickly to the
bathroom. Nose pressed against the wood, he shouted, “You have information I
want.
  
One way or another, you're going
to give it to me.
 
Until you do, you stay
where you are.”
 
The edge to Jake’s voice
said he meant every word.

Listening,
growing steadily angrier, Jordan's response was sharp, decisive, “Well, you can
kiss your ass goodbye, Mr.
  
I strongly
suggest you don't turn your back on me because if you do the first chance I get
I'll spill every ounce of your blood.”

As
her threat hung in the air, whatever the sensation was running along Jake's
skin, raising an abundance of hair, told him this female was not going to be
the airhead he presumed, the possibility stretching his nerves beyond the
max.
 
Jake’s heated reply shot back,
“Have it your way, bitch!
 
Believe me;
you're going to get mighty uncomfortable with no bed, no food, and no fix.”

Though
the roaring in his head made hearing difficult, he did not miss the echoing
weird, bitter laugh piercing the cracks of the wooden door that said wait and
see, Mr.

CHAPTER 4

With
water dripping from his hair, a plush maroon towel hugging a trim waist, for
long moments Scorpio admired the physic reflecting from the floor length
mirror.
  
Except for pale blue eyes, with
jet-black hair slicked back, and dark skin, most would believe him to be
Italian, Mexican, or possibly Latin, even Scorpio did not know, nor did he
care.
 
Nationality, or little else,
mattered when you were, the entrepreneur of a multi-billion dollar drug
industry, influential and revered, accomplishments that never failed to bring a
smug smile to his thin well-shaped lips.
 

Selecting
a favored cologne costing one thousand dollars, he splashed an extravagant
amount over his face, and neck, his hands lingering much too long smoothing
over his chest.
  
Flexing well-toned
muscles, eyes running the length of his slim figure were finally
satisfied.
  
The most magnificent
creature in the world capable of turning both men’s and woman’s heads he
considered himself to be and as though a God about to be admired he moved
toward the door.
 

It
was the view through the partially opened portal that gave him pause. A
substantial master bedroom expressing wealth, the décor, imported carved wood
furniture, drapes of tapestry with fine art adorning the walls that cost
millions.
 
Yet the body sprawled on her
stomach on the bed hugging a satin pillow, a position he preferred, brought the
highest level of triumph.
 
Unknown to
anyone, Marla was his most treasured possession.

Scanning
the nude form stirred a powerful surge of lust that began melting ice like eyes
and a steel heart, the rising desire parching his throat only his favored
trophy could quench.
 
She was like a cold
drink of water on the hottest of summer days. Savoring her well-proportioned
body, slender waist, perfect ass and the most luscious legs ever wrapped around
his haunches, was never enough.
 
So
frightening and ravenous was his appetite for Marla, though there were plenty
of other women, and men, more than willing, none ever came close to satisfying
his lusty needs.
 

Reflections
of their sexual encounters dancing before his mind’s eye hardened his
penis.
 
Indeed, the best of them, she
never bored him like the others.
 
Not
only did Marla make him feel strong and potent but most importantly never tired
of his enormous appetite for sex, nor questioned or refused his perverted ways
of committing the act.
 
Whether she
condoned them because of love or fear, or because he gave her everything her
heart desired he was yet to learn.
 
Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter as long as she willingly continued
to share his bed whenever commanded.
 
At
least that’s what he told himself repeatedly despite knowing if the time ever
came that she refused his advances, or defied him, as much as he would prefer
not to kill her, he would with his own bare hands.
 

Like
a panther on the prowl, he closed the distance. Opening the drawer of an ornate
marble top nightstand, well-manicured fingers sifted through a menagerie of
erotic toys that were sure to bring a blush to any discoverers face.
 
Retrieving four gold silk cords, he secured
each of her limbs to one of the giant bedposts taking the liberty while doing
so to touch and caress, lick and suck.
 
Though Marla never moved or made a sound, he knew she was aware of his
intentions.

A
flick of his fingers tumbled the towel around his waist in folds to the
floor.
 
From the nightstand, slender
fingers retrieved a bottle of fragrant oil.
 
Sprinkling a few drops on his penis, for long moments he gently massaged
distributing the potion over stretched taut skin, each stroke increasing both
size and desire.
 
Worked into a heated
lather, straddling her buttocks he slowly dripped oil onto her flesh.
 
Skillful fingers followed firmly kneading
flawless skin to a glowing pink as his member slid rhythmically along the
crevice of her haunches.

Little
did Marla know Scorpios' mind was elsewhere plotting malignant plans to
exterminate a DEA officer, slowly, painfully, without the slightest touch,
reflections that served to escalate his passion?
 
Swallowing a silent chuckle, he recalled his
success over the past two years reflections of which intensified his
movements.
 
Soon, very soon, Morgan would
be nothing more than a shell of a man, a time when, as though possessing a
pointed poisoned stinger, Scorpion would make his lethal strike.

Nothing
more than an, irritating, over confident prick, Morgan had cost him billions of
dollars.
 
Although Morgan had been unable
to terminate his business altogether, he was indeed annoying.
 
His insatiable thirst for revenge required a
continuous change of distribution locals to allow staying one-step ahead of the
bastard.
 
Playing the odds, on several
occasions, Scorpio purposely lingered hoping to face his meritorious opponent,
as he almost did just hours ago.
 
Now,
considering how close he came, he wondered if it was his love of money
preventing him from giving up or his love for the game of cat and mouse.
 

Reflections
of Morgan's trials suddenly swamped him.
 
To date he’d managed to strip Morgan of all his worldly possessions,
among them his best friend, and the greatest trophy of them all.
 
Wallowing in his success engorged Scorpios'
mind and shaft making both eager to seek fulfillment.
 
Glancing down at the round, golden buns
beneath him, imaging the ass he was about to plunder to be Morgan’s, with
fingers spread wide clutching curvaceous hips forcing them toward him; he
thrust hard and deep into the folds.
 
Being in complete control never failed to fuel his virility that rapidly
increased his momentum bringing within seconds instant and intense
gratification that filled the cavity his member possessed.

Having
been summoned by Butch over an hour ago then escorted to Scorpio‘s room, Marla
knew the reason for her command attendance.
 
Still, over time having survived numerous occasions, when Butch turned
and locked the door behind him the slightest amount of fear brought on
perspiration that made her lace robe more difficult to remove.
 
Listening to Scorpio taking a shower, fighting
the sickness rolling in her stomach, she stretched out on the bed in a position
Scorpio favored splaying her long black trusses on the pillow as added
enticement.
 
She’d learned the more
aroused he became, the less time it took to satisfy his hunger.
 
Aware of Scorpio’s excessive appetite, and
how he thrived on control, Marla willingly surrendered; enduring whatever was
necessary, thankful for the frequent breaks when he plundered other women and
men who frequently shared his home and bed.
  

Scorpio’s
ravishment rarely lasted long, times when her mind drifted to a, walk in closet
where meticulously arranged were rows of extravagant designer clothes, shoes,
and exotic furs.
 
To the wall safe
protecting her exquisite jewelry, the dressing table where rows of imported
colognes competed for selection, the garage storing her Mercedes convertible,
and one by one the villas around the world.
  
A whimper or a pout, an occasional quick romp between the sheets was all
that was required, after which Scorpio would whisk her off in a private jet to
any desired paradise just to see her smile.
 
Did he love her, Marla wasn’t that naïve, and she knew a demon like
Scorpio wasn't capable of loving anyone other than himself.

At
last, Marla had everything she ever dreamed of, except love.
 
She paid that price by destroying the one
true love she'd ever known, one that had wrapped around her heart and still
refused to let go.
 
Time had convinced
her she'd forever remember the enormous cost.
 
To think of that brief period now was suicidal, for none of Scorpio’s
mistress’ ever lived to tell the story, the reason the bodyguard just outside
the door, Scorpios' second set of eyes and ears, and occasional bed
partner.
 

Everyone
involved with Scorpio got screwed one way or another.
 
Faithful to the very end, Butch was never far,
always ready, willing and very competent at fulfilling any order, easy tasks
for a Martial Arts expert, and sharp shooter with a body of steel capable of
snapping a neck like a toothpick at a simple nod from his master.
 
Rumors about others who had mysteriously
disappeared, the reason that kept her nerves perpetually stretched taut.
 

Disgustingly,
at this very minute, through the key hole, she knew Butch was listening and
watching his masters' frantic thrusts that were bashing the headboard against
the wall.
 
Despite the cloaking heat and
sweat, chills had her ice cold wondering when Scorpio would tire of her, when
he’d allow Butch his turn, threats he’d made repeatedly and she knew he‘d keep.

With
Morgan’s name repeatedly whispered in her ear, Scorpio’s final lunges made her
gasp, shutter, and wince.
 
At last, it
was over.
 
She could only hope it would
be awhile before being summoned again, one never knew.
 
Writs red and sore along with aching body
parts were cruel reminders there was no escaping Scorpios' wrath, unless Jake
Morgan had his way.
 
Just the mention of
his name brought fear into Scorpios' eyes and a smirk to Marla‘s lips.
 
Both knew Morgan wouldn't hesitate to cross
Butch's path.
 
Meanwhile, as she awaited
rescue, Scorpio would continue to plunder her, and Butch would see to it she
didn’t refuse.

CHAPTER 5

For
three days before leaving for the precinct, Jake left Jordan a bag of fast
food.
 
She could drink from the faucet if
need be he sputtered while slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Each
evening upon returning, it was maddening to discover she’d refused all
nourishment, and most likely consumed no liquid.
  
Frustrated by her stubbornness along with
his fruitless attempts at interrogating Scorpios' thugs had his nerves
stretched taut.
 
This morning, it
wouldn't have mattered what side of the bed he got up on, nothing would have
improved his mood, not even a fraction of an inch.
 
Today, would be his last attempt at both,
Jake hissed between gritted teeth.
 

An
atrocious temper known to erupt without warning did not permit Jake to be alone
with any prisoner.
 
Particularly when
after an entire day of unsuccessful interrogation, Billy had to peel Jake off
the last detainee to prevent any bodily harm.