Page 28

B oyd

It’s getting harder to leave Sarah, even when I have to.

This pull. This ache. The only place I want to be is with her. I’d much rather be dozing with her in my arms than watching my crew load boxes into a truck. Dante is standing beside me. He looks rather worried, and I understand why.

“We need a lot more than this,” Dante says, disappointment in his voice. “It’ll be better than staking places out, but we won’t be able to protect everyone.”

“We’ll do the best we can,” I assure him. “The three you came up with. Those families first. Then we’ll go from there.”

“It’s a good plan,” Dante sighs, glancing over at me. “Asking Sarah was a smart move. Not used to many of those from you, Big Boyd.”

“Whatever it takes to get this motherfucker,” I grunt. “If this doesn’t work, I think we should just tear Las Vegas apart until we find him, rather than acting like the fucking cops.”

“That’s way too messy. All these fucking tourists?

Lots of innocent people.” Dante shakes his head.

“It was bad enough when Massimo went after the Bratva. Course that would have been nothing compared to what would have happened if Massimo went after Emilio—when Massimo thought his brother put the hit out on him.”

“No kidding,” I say. “Hopefully this works. All we have to do is find this motherfucker and then we can put an end to it.”

“And pray there’s no dead man’s switch full of information about the Morandi family or any of the families we’re trying to protect from the bastard,” Dante sighs, motioning for the guys to hurry up with the last few boxes.

“I leave the praying to Leo,” I shrug. “If there’s information about us, we’ll get it out of him before we finish him off. I can be very persuasive. So can Massimo.”

“We’ve got to find him first,” Dante says, yelling at one of his guys who is moving too slow.

I fold my arms across my chest and glare at my crew. Dante takes a few steps forward, fires some more orders, and walks back to stand beside me.

“By the way,” I add. “It really pissed me off when nobody called me after Lloyd Brennan’s kid got killed.”

“That was my fault,” Dante says. “After everything that happened when Erica, you were sidelined. I wasn’t sure where you stood, and didn’t think to ask Massimo about it with all the chaos. Besides, you already had an assignment. One directly from the boss.”

“Yeah, but shit like this?” I pull my arm away from my chest and wave a hand. “Everyone needs to know.”

“Agreed. It wasn’t personal, Boyd,” Dante says, walking toward the truck once the last box is loaded. “Alright, everyone, let’s go!”

The truck rumbles to life and Dante hops in the passenger seat. I go to my SUV. A few of my guys rode with me, so I light a cigarette and wait for them to get in.

I’m still pissed about being essentially forgotten the first night the Mafia Prince Killer struck in Las Vegas, but I’ll get over it. Mistakes happen and it sounds like it wasn’t intentional, so I won’t dwell on it right now. There’s more important shit to worry about.

Once my guys are in the SUV, we head back to Las Vegas.

An hour later, we hand the boxes over to the guys who will be installing the gas sensors and return to the war room.

Dante’s already made the arrangements with the families who will be getting them, but several on the list get a disappointing phone call because we didn’t get as many as we hoped.

Still, it’s better than nothing.

Now all we can do is wait, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

I’d much rather be with Sarah.

A long night.

A longer day.

I finally have to go home, shower, put on a clean suit, and keep myself going with coffee. Sarah and I trade messages, but I can’t pull myself away from the war room. Every ranking member of the family is here except Massimo, but he’ll get a call from Dante the second we learn something.

“If there’s nothing tonight, we’re going to have to start pulling shifts,” Dante says, looking around the room. “Otherwise, we’ll be dead on our feet when something finally does happen.”

“Agreed,” someone calls out.

Things are tense for hours as we wait. Then the tension and exhaustion take a toll.

Some people nod off. I stay alert, but I’m feeling it.

My eyelids are heavy. If I let them close too long, I start hallucinating because I’m so tired.

Dante paces a lot, along with several others.

Coffee and cigarettes keep my eyes as open as possible when the hours continue to drag by.

Then it’s morning.

“Nothing,” I grumble, standing up and finishing what is left of my coffee. “I’m going to get some rest. He’s never struck during the daytime anyway.”

“I’m going too,” Dante sighs. “We’ll get some of our guys to watch the sensors during the day. Forget shifts. If I can’t take the first one, I know everyone else is fucking exhausted, too.”

The murmurs and mutters confirm it. We’re wiped out. Even the guys who were slipping out to sniff powder have burned through their sanity.

I really should go home. Sleep like the fucking dead. But I don’t. I walk to the elevators like I’m on autopilot and the next thing I know, I’m standing in front of Sarah’s room, keycard swiping across the panel.

“Boyd!” she says, running to the door and hugging me before I get inside.

I hug her, inhaling her scent as her warmth seeps into my skin.

“I want you so fucking bad,” I groan. “But if I don’t lie down and get some rest, I might pass out.”

“Then let me take care of you,” she says, stepping back, taking my hand, and pushing the door closed. “You haven’t slept since I saw you last, right?”

“No,” I sigh, letting her pull me toward the bed.

“Well, you can’t sleep in your suit.” She smiles and lets go of my hand, trailing her fingers up to my chest, tugging on my tie. “Have to take it off. I’ll help.”

“I bet you will,” I say, taking off my suit jacket and tossing it on the rubble that used to be another bed.

I could get undressed on my own, but I like feeling her hands on my skin. Soft and gentle as she helps me remove my clothes. I stop her when I’m down to my boxers and she tries to tug on those, too.

“Those can stay on,” I mutter. “But don’t worry, once I get some sleep, you’re mine.”

“I’m taking care of you, remember?” she says, tugging my boxers down a few inches. I relent and take my hand away, letting her pull them to my ankles. “Now, step out of those and get in bed.”

“What are you going to do? Tuck me in?” I smirk, moving closer to the bed and pulling the covers back.

“Not exactly,” she says.

I get into bed and stretch out to get comfortable. I look for Sarah and see her moving to the end of the bed. She pulls the covers free from the mattress and lifts them.

“What are you doing?” I ask, leaning up.

“You’re in bed. Don’t worry about me,” she says, her voice muffled by the quilt as she crawls underneath it.

“Oh, fuck,” I murmur when I feel her hands on my legs and her breath on my inner thigh. “Sarah…”

“Just relax,” she says, stroking my length, wrapping her hand around it, and licking along the bottom. “I’m sure this will help you sleep.”

I can’t bring myself to argue. I relax, feeling my cock swelling against her tongue as it moves along my shaft.

Then her warm, wet mouth pulls me in and I’m hard as a rock.

There’s no going to sleep now. Not with her lips moving along my length and sending currents of pleasure through my exhausted body.

“Oh, god,” I groan. “Don’t stop.”

Sarah pulls me into her mouth again and again, taking my cock like she’s begging for my release.

I don’t try to fight the pressure that builds, even though her lips feel amazing.

When it becomes too much, my hips twitch and I put a hand on top of the blanket, pushing further into her mouth as I spill my seed.

“Damn,” I grunt, my hips continuing to twitch with every throb that pulses into her throat. “I needed that a lot more than I realized.”

Sarah whimpers and groans as she swallows my release and pulls away. Her hands stay on my legs while she shimmies out of the covers the same way she got under them.

“Get some sleep, Big Boyd,” she whispers playfully, walking over to the windows and pulling the curtains closed.

“My phone,” I rumble, motioning to my pants. “If it buzzes, and it’s a message from someone important, let me know.”

Nobody should call unless there is news.

Everyone is trying to rest. But if something happens, I need to wake up, and I’d rather not turn on the ringer.

If I get woken up by another call from someone who wants to talk about the warranty on my SUV or renter’s insurance for my condo, I might snap their neck through the phone.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to look at your phone if you get a text?” Sarah asks, removing my phone from my pants and putting it on the table.

“Just don’t fucking read it. If it’s from Massimo, Dante, or someone like that, wake me up,” I clarify, rolling over and pulling the covers tight. “Otherwise…”

“Got it,” Sarah whispers, walking close to the bed and leaning down to kiss my cheek. Her lips linger there and move to my ear, which makes me shudder. “Goodnight, Big Boyd.”

“Night,” I mutter.

Then I sleep like the dead. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m exhausted or because Sarah is so close.

I’ve been sleeping a lot better since she got tangled up in my life.

I’m not haunted by the nightmares about Erica’s coup anymore.

I don’t even get haunted by nightmares about the Mafia Prince Killer, and the damage he could do to the Morandi family.

It’s dark when I wake up. Not just in the room, because the curtains are still closed. There’s no glow, except from the laptop illuminating Sarah’s face. She’s sitting at the table not far from the bed. I reach for my phone and flip it over. No messages.

“I’ve checked it a few times,” Sarah says, closing her laptop. “No calls at all.”

“It’s late,” I observe. “I’m sure you need some rest, too.”

“I thought about climbing into bed with you a few times,” she admits. “But I didn’t want to fall asleep and miss a phone call or text. Especially if the Mafia Prince Killer struck again.”

“It’s late enough that I can just turn on the ringer,” I say, hitting the switch and getting up. “I’ll be right back.”

I stumble to the bathroom, still groggy. Once I take a few deep breaths and stretch, I relieve myself, clean up, and step out of the bathroom. Sarah is still sitting at the table, but she flashes me a coy look as I return to the bed and sit down. Probably because I’m still naked.

But she’s not. And that’s a problem I intend to fix.

I gesture to Sarah, lie down, and scoot away from the edge of the bed while holding the covers up for her. “Come keep me warm. I’m a little chilly.”

“Chilly? You’re like a permanent heater,” she laughs, biting her bottom lip as she stands and walks over to me.

“Get your ass in bed,” I growl, grabbing her arm and tugging her under the covers.

I pull Sarah close and kiss her soft lips before she has a chance to object.

I’m still tired, but I’ve had enough rest to feel the need coursing through my veins.

Unsatiated. Undeniable. This beautiful woman has done something to me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I kind of like the way it feels.

Every beat of my heart. For her.

Every desire radiating inside me. For her.

I used to be scared of feeling something like this again. Too scared of it falling apart and leaving scars that never heal. So scared, I kept everyone at a distance, even the women I dated. But I don’t want to push Sarah away. Far from it. I want her in my arms every fucking night.

Once we catch this fucker, I’ll show her exactly what it means to be mine.