Love’s Bounty (8 page)

“We’re not in any hurry, Deirdre. Just take it slow. Lick me, feel me grow harder.”

“You’re crying.” She touched her tongue to the tip of his cock and lapped his pre-cum. “You taste so much better than I expected. I want to savor all of you.”

She sucked in one of his testicles. Her fingers roamed lower. He squeezed his butt, not sure he wanted her to venture where she was headed.

“Relax,
Austin. I won’t do anything you don’t want.” Her teeth nipped at his inner thigh. “But you might like what I have in mind.” She sucked loudly on her finger and dragged the moisture between his cheeks. The pressure of her finger rimmed his anus. Jolts of electricity shuddered through his cock. No one had ever touched him that way.

“You like?”

“Baby, I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doing.”

Deirdre’s mouth curved, and he watched her tongue slither up the sensitive underside of his cock. Damn, she was good. She took him into the velvety heat of her mouth. Her tongue worked in circles against the cleft at its tip.

She sucked hard, pulling him in until he filled her sweet mouth, but he was too big for her to take him all. Her other hand palmed the base of his dick, working in tandem with her pulsing mouth. Still, her slick finger circling the puckered hole of his ass added a new dimension to the sensations coursing through him.

Ayden fisted his hands in her hair, losing himself in the heat of her. “Deirdre…”

“I love to hear you say my name,
Austin. It’s nice.” She blew into the eye of his cock. “I love the way you smell and taste. It makes me hot. Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

Her arousal filled the air and wrapped itself around his nostrils. His mouth watered with the need to lap the juices from her folds. He satisfied himself by caressing her breasts. She moaned as he pinched her nipples, and the vibration ratcheted up his pulse. “Love my cock with your mouth, Deirdre. Make me come.” His heart hammered in his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

She did as he asked, her lips and hand engulfing him in warmth.

“Christ, I’m coming.” He warned her so she could move, but he hoped like hell she devoured everything he offered. “Deirdre…” His back arched, and he held on to her as every muscle in his body went rigid. As his seed soared out of his body, her finger broke the barrier of his ass, rocketing him higher. His cries of ecstasy reverberated off the walls. He moaned out her name and oaths, slamming his stiff rod over and over again into her mouth. His body bucked and writhed, and her mouth held him, swallowing every drop. The last of his climax pulsed through him, and his body shook from his shoulders to his toes in response.

Deirdre ran her tongue up the length of him, sucking in the last drops of his cum. He moaned again when she took his softening penis in her mouth. Her hand cradled his sack, soothing and massaging. He went limp as a rag doll.

“
Austin, I can’t get enough of you,” she said, kissing her way up his belly.

Her lips were swollen, and her hair disheveled. Deirdre’s lids hung heavy on those chocolate pools that looked at him filled with an emotion he wouldn’t define as lust. He’d never loved a woman, so he wasn’t sure if it was that sparking in her eye. But there was definitely something there. She wanted more from him than the sex he could give her. She looked sexy as hell, and he realized he wanted to give Deirdre everything that gaze was asking for. Perhaps he was only projecting and hoping this one-night fling turned into a three-day romp-fest was beginning to mean something more to her as well.

To hell with the DEA. To hell with Jameson and the drug bust. Only Deirdre mattered to him at the moment. She was the best thing to come into his life in a very long while. Ayden wanted his real name tripping off her lips when he brought her to orgasm. She had shared her pain, her worry and her family, had held nothing back, and now he wanted to do the same. Reveal all his secrets. He
needed
to tell her everything. His heart pounded its way into his throat.

“Deirdre, we need to talk.”

“That sounds ominous.” Leaning down, she pulled the heavy quilt from the foot of the bed over them.

“It can wait until after I … we…” He meant to sate her sexual need before muddying the waters with his past, his present … their future.

“No, I’m good.” She couched her chin on her fists stacked on his chest and stared up at him.

She’d read his mind.

“Whatever it is,
Austin, let’s get it out there, deal with it and move on.” Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. Concern furrowed her brows and clouded her eyes. She thought he was leaving her like Brianna had. It was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Deirdre, I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, pulling her tighter to his body. He hoped that was true. He hoped she would want him after he told her who he was. Cocooned in the warmth of their bodies, Ayden felt secure. He wanted to tell her everything. But he didn’t want to lose what he had now. Deirdre stretched the length of him, her warm breath trailing goose bumps down his belly.

“You don’t know me,” he said.

“I thought we were getting to know each other. So, we skipped the dating part, but this is the twenty-first century. We’re both adults. We can…”

He pressed his mouth to hers. She parted his lips with her tongue, intent on deepening the kiss, but he pulled back.

“Why is that the only thing that shuts you up?”

“I…”

He put a finger to her mouth. “No, Deirdre. My turn. I need to tell you something. It’s important. Please let me.”

And she did.

He told her about Jameson, the DEA and the undercover persona of Austin Shaeffer, about the mission in Miami—and how he’d killed his little brother.

* * * *

For the third time, Deirdre filled Ayden’s coffee cup. His restless hands didn’t seem to know where to land, so he burned his energy dragging the mug from the table to his mouth and back again.

Nearly an hour had passed since she coaxed him out of the bedroom and forced him to eat. The empty plate lay ignored on the kitchen table at his elbow. The spark of fire in his eyes had burned itself out as he told her about the tragic losses of the people he loved. The day-old stubble on his haggard face added to the dejected look of frailty. He’d come to her home to take care of her, but he was the one in desperate need of support. His confessions had sliced through her heart, and by the look of things, nearly broken him.

They both had fallen into this relationship wearing blinders. She wasn’t angered by his deception; he’d done it to protect her. But the fact that he shouldered a burden he didn’t need to slog around just pissed her off. How could the man be so stupid?

Setting the decanter in the coffeemaker, she turned to him.

“Ayden, tell me exactly how Thomas died.”

He turned his head toward her with slow precision. His eyes remained unfocused. “I’ve already told you. It doesn’t really matter does it? It’s my fault.”

She closed the distance between them in two long strides. “No, damn it. I don’t believe that.” His head jerked back as her palm slammed into the wooden table. “Tell me again. Every detail. You must have missed something, you and all the DEA assholes who blame you for his death. I may have only known you for four days, Ayden Scott, but one thing is perfectly clear to me. You would lay down your own life for someone you love. I don’t believe you would kill your own brother, either deliberately or unintentionally. There’s another explanation. Just tell me again.” Pulling out the chair, Deirdre sat down next to him. She softened her voice. “Please, Ayden.”

Ayden fiddled with the fringe on the placemat. “He was working undercover in
Miami. I was the lead on the operation. He convinced me to let him fly solo. I knew he wasn’t ready, but he was young, looked and acted the part of a street dealer. The thugs already believed he was the real deal. I wanted to bring down some big cartel so badly, I let him go. I had the blessing of the whole team, but ultimately, I was the one who signed his death certificate.”

Deirdre squeezed the twitching muscles in his forearm. He didn’t acknowledge her touch.

“He went underground. We couldn’t find him. No one saw him for three goddamn weeks. I sent men searching, but they came back empty. So, I went myself. And I found him, strung out on heroin in some whorehouse.” He sipped at his coffee. “By then I knew the big guys were sniffing around, culling out the wanna-bes from the legitimate dealers. They were looking really hard at Thomas. If I pulled him, months of work would have been blown, along with the cover of at least twenty DEA guys working the streets.

“He seemed lucid. He convinced me he wasn’t hooked. It was all a sham for the job. I wanted to believe him.” Ayden turned, but looked right through her. “I think deep down, I knew he was lying, but I left him, anyway. I loved the idea of a big score more than I loved my brother.”

“Ayden, don’t say that. It’s not true.”

“How the hell would you know? You weren’t there! You don’t know me.” His words dripped with venom. Though she knew the anger wasn’t directed at her, it didn’t soften their blow.

“He contacted me on and off. He kept working the deals. I wanted to believe he was all right, but I knew. I knew he’d gotten sucked in. But he was getting so close. I left him. Alone, with no backup. He finally found out where the drugs were coming in, and we had them. We were there ready to pull down one of the biggest
Miami drug connections, and the Scott brothers would get all the credit.”

He paused, but she couldn’t speak.

“The sea plane came in. Right where he said they’d land in the everglades. And we had them. We waited for it to land, and they started to unload, but it didn’t look right. No one came to meet the plane. No ground transport, no drug baron. But they kept dumping sacks out of the plane so we stormed the landing zone. Arrested everyone on the plane, seized all the cargo.” Ayden’s eyes focused on the distant memory. “Coffee. I had mobilized the friggin’ Miami DEA for some contraband coffee and a couple of illegal aliens. Heads began to roll. I was so pissed at my brother and how badly he’d screwed up. All I wanted was to chew him a new asshole and kick his skinny little ass back to a desk job.” He sipped from the cup.

“I went looking for Thomas. I searched everywhere, all the drug haunts, but he was nowhere. I looked for almost two days, but I never found him. The garbage company found him in some alley behind a restaurant. Drug overdose. Still had the needle in his arm, the rubber tubing wrapped around his bicep. A fucking heroin overdose. He’d been giving me bogus information so I wouldn’t pull him in and I wouldn’t know he’d become an addict. I might as well have put the fucking needle in his arm myself. I knew.” Ayden slammed his fist on the table, sloshing the coffee and bouncing the spoon. “I knew, and I left him out there to be eaten by the wolves.”

The sorrow etched deep lines on his face as the tears rolled down his cheeks. “He had no one in the world except me, and I didn’t protect him.”

Standing, Deirdre wrapped him in her arms. She held him until the shudders of pain subsided, and her heart didn’t pinch from the emotions overwhelming her. Somehow, in only three days, she’d fallen in love with Ayden.

Chapter 7

Rachel drove the pickup filled with mulch toward Jameson’s. Deirdre simply didn’t have the energy. Today there would be only the two of them pruning the trees, working the flowerbeds, acting like nothing had changed since they were last at the estate. As far as Rachel was concerned, nothing had. But Deirdre knew better.

Three days had passed since she’d been arrested. Two days since Ayden had told her Jameson was a drug dealer. One day left before she could drop the false bravado in front of her new employer.

Until then, Deirdre would have to act like she knew nothing about Jameson’s background or Ayden’s undercover work. She wasn’t sure she was that good an actress.

Unfortunately, Jameson hadn’t fired Tilling Landscaping, quite the contrary, in fact. He’d phoned yesterday to say the Cutler PD had released the one-ton to him, and he hoped the regrettable incident wouldn’t have any effect on Deirdre finishing the job. He believed she was totally innocent of the charges. Of course, he did. She and Ayden had come to the conclusion that it was likely someone on Jameson’s payroll had set her up. They just couldn’t figure out who or why. HH

She looked over at her friend driving in stoic silence. So much had happened between the time Deirdre left the Cutler police station and now, and Rachel knew very little about it all. For the first time since they were kids, there were secrets between them. They both knew it. It was driving a wedge in their friendship. Deirdre could only hope that when it all came out, Rachel would forgive her. But it would have to wait until after the drug bust on Sunday.

She had yet to introduce Rachel to Ayden. Her friend knew her too well not to see the emotional connection she had with the man. So she’d spirited him away when Rachel had come to the ICU on Tuesday. Of course, Deirdre’s family hadn’t questioned the deception; it was the Tilling way. Regardless of the circumstances, family came first, even if their actions seemed a bit odd.

“So how’s your dad?” Rachel didn’t turn from the road

“I talked to Mum this morning, and she said he’s doing better already.”

“When did they transfer him to
Bangor
Hospital
?”

“Yesterday morning, right after he became bradycardic. He…”

“
Dee, don’t do that,” Rachel interrupted. “I’m not up on all those medical terms.” Turning, she sent Deirdre a weak smile.

“Sorry. You know Dad was having problems with his kidneys, and that just continued to get worse. Doc McCarty wasn’t too hopeful.” Deirdre shrugged. Doc McCarty wasn’t her concern. “Anyway, Mum called us all to the hospital yesterday because Daddy’s heart had slowed way down, a condition known as bradycardia. Mum made the decision to transfer him to Bangor AMA.” Deirdre shook her head and looked at Rachel.

Rachel’s smile was genuine this time.

“Against medical advice. Doc McCarty thought the ambulance ride would kill him. Mum thought it would save him. They had quite the heated discussion in the sunroom at the ICU. But Mum’s infamous
Maine
stubbornness came through. She wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and Daddy is now resting in the more experienced hands of the specialists at the
Bangor
Hospital
.” Deirdre picked at invisible lint on her pants. “Seems it worked. It’s been barely twenty-four hours, and Mum said he’s gotten some color back in his cheeks, and he was beginning to flirt with the nursing staff. All good signs. I’ll go over tonight, but I won’t need to stay. She thinks if he keeps improving at this rate, he’ll be home by the weekend.”

“I’m glad for you, Dee. I know how much you love your dad.”

“Thanks, Rach.”

That subject played out, they slipped into an awkward silence.

Deirdre stared out the window and watched the trees flit past. If only she could move time that fast, and it could be Monday morning, and Ayden was safe, and Jameson and all his cronies in jail. But things didn’t work that way.

She hadn’t seen Ayden since he’d driven away in the middle of the night. He asked her to stay in bed, but she hadn’t listened. Her heart slowed as the taillights of the Jag were swallowed by the night, and it felt so much like watching Brianna’s Nissan leaving, Deirdre wasn’t sure she’d have the energy to go on.

But it wasn’t the same.

She would see Ayden again. It just wouldn’t be until after everything had gone down. They both thought it was for the best.

But damn, she missed him already.

* * * *

Deirdre mopped at her sweaty face with the hem of her T-shirt.

“So, you take the pickup, and I’ll follow behind in the one-ton.” Deirdre guzzled from the water bottle Rachel handed her. “Six trees pruned, and the flowerbeds on the east side mulched. Not a bad day for two hot chicks.” She handed the bottle back to Rachel and swiped at the water dribbling down her chin.

“Not bad at all. Might actually have this job finished by the end of next week even without Mark and his students,” Rachel said before finishing the water. “Listen,
Dee, I hate to cut and run, but I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on.” Rachel looked down at her watch. “It’s nearly four now. I still need to shower and do a little prep work before I head out to Duane’s. I’m planning on breaking a law or two on my way home. You probably should go easy with the one-ton. Wouldn’t want to upset the Cutler police.”

“Very funny. No problem. I’ll just dump the refuse at the high school and park it at the house for safekeeping.”

Rachel climbed into the truck. “Probably not a bad idea.” Pulling the door closed, she hung out through the open window. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow around eight-thirty. Don’t bother going to the shop in the morning. I’ll load up the mulch and the gear and come straight here.” She turned on the engine.

“Sounds like a plan. I’m not taking any pity on you if you show up here with a hangover.”

Rachel laughed and waved out the window as she drove away.

“Deirdre,” Jameson yelled from the front door. “Wait up a moment, will you?”

Deirdre stared at the pickup disappearing around the bend of the driveway, wishing she were in the cab with Rachel, not left to fend for herself with Jameson. Up until this moment, they’d managed to avoid him.

Jameson strolled to the garage with a sense of unhurried ease. Deirdre knew underneath the calm exterior lay a lion ready to eat her alive. The hairs on the nape of her neck tingled with apprehension. Heat rose from her chest to her face, and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. Deirdre inhaled, trying to settle her jangling nerves. She could do this.

“Mr. Jameson…”

“Shawn.” In a voice coated with honey, he corrected her.

“Shawn, of course.” Deirdre cautiously lifted one corner of her lip; when it remained steady, she forced the rest of her mouth to smile.

“I wondered how your father was doing.”

“Getting better. Thank you for asking.” Their conversation was clipped and unnatural. “They transferred him to
Bangor.” Hooking her thumbs in the front pocket of her cargo pants, she tipped back on the heels of her work boots, trying to look more casual than she felt. “I’m glad you came out. I wanted to thank you for what you did on Monday at the police station and for having your men repair the wood chipper and empty the one-ton. Please deduct the cost of the parts and labor from my bill.”

“That’s not necessary. I was glad to help on both accounts.” He waved his hand in the air.

“That’s kind of you,” Deirdre’s voice squeaked out. She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the lump of anxiety pressing there. “Looks like, even with all that’s happened this week, we’re only slightly behind schedule. We should be able to finish by the end of next week. The gardens aren’t as bad as I’d originally thought.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He smiled down at her, but there was no joy in his expression. “Deirdre, I was wondering how you know Austin Shaeffer.”

“Who? I’m afraid I don’t recognize the name.” Her belly flipped her lunch.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” He waved his hand again, and one of the goons from Saturday’s festivities appeared from behind the one-ton. He moved so fast she had no time to react. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her.

“This is not how I hoped it would go for us, Deirdre. I like you, I really do. But I need to know how you know
Austin.”

“Mr. Jameson, I only met him in your garage on Monday.”

Monkey man forced her arm high up her back, and pain shot through her shoulder and out her mouth in the form of a yelp. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Yes, well. I think that’s not the case.” He motioned to the house. “Shall we?”

* * * *

Ayden leaned over the computer guy’s chair. He had the headset cupped to his ear. “Tell me again when this happened.”

“About an hour ago, a little before four.”

“And they’ve all gone dead?”

“Ayden, I tried to recalibrate the mics, but there’s nothing. Not even static.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Ayden threw the headphones onto the table next to the computer. “We are
this
close to nailing the fucking bastard.” His thumb and forefinger waved in the air only an inch apart. “Why the hell has he decided to clear them all out now?” His feet moved about the floor and traced the same path they’d been following since he arrived thirty minutes ago. He had a pretty good idea why Jameson had cleared the mansion. He knew something was going down. He’d had him followed.

The guy in the chair looked up at him. “Delmont?”

Ayden had told the whole team what he’d done in the early hours of Tuesday morning. He figured he owed them the truth. Well, the truth as far as they were concerned.

He’d told them the facts about one of Jameson’s bimbos he was boffing; the same one who was arrested for possession, bailed out by Jameson, and needed a ride home. He hadn’t bothered to mention his emotional involvement with Deirdre or that he’d told her everything about his undercover work.

“Jesus H. Christ. How did I get so sloppy?” Ayden raked his fingers through his hair. “It will
not
happen again. This asshole will not slip through my fingers. This is not
Miami.”

The faces of the two men at the computers knit in confusion. They were too new to the DEA to know about what went down in
Florida
.

“Forget it. We have a scheduled meet with Jameson tomorrow. We need to be ready if he changes anything. I think that’s his plan. That’s why he’s pulled all our surveillance. I’m sure we’ve been careful enough that he won’t suspect it’s us listening in.”

Actually, he wasn’t sure about anything. Not the assignment, not his men’s safety, and definitely not about how deep his feelings ran for Deirdre.

“Call everyone in. We’ve got a long night ahead of us, gentlemen.”

* * * *

Deirdre opened the bathroom door and let the steam of the hot shower filter into the bedroom. Swiping at the mirror, she was surprised the woman staring back at her didn’t look as bad as Deirdre felt. Fear and apprehension clawed at her insides, turning everything to a gelatinous mass.

Despite the sleepless night and endless day, there was no bruising under her eyes. She hadn’t shed any tears. She wouldn’t give Jameson the satisfaction. Her skin remained unblemished. Deirdre ran her finger over her lips; if only Ayden had found her today.

But like Rachel, he’d come and gone. She’d been only able to watch from the bedroom window in muted agony as their vehicles had driven away without her, both of them unaware Jameson held her prisoner. He’d threatened to kill them if she tried to make her presence known. She remained silent, having no doubt he would do it.

Jameson had fed Rachel some lie about Deirdre’s father. He’d hidden the one-ton somewhere, and Rachel had left believing Deirdre had never shown up for work this morning. He didn’t need to tell Ayden anything. They’d agreed to have no contact until Sunday, so he wouldn’t know she was gone.

Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Deirdre filled her belly with water from the tap as she’d done all day. It kept her hydrated, but did nothing to quell her voracious appetite.

She would be joining Jameson in the dining room for dinner, as she had every meal, but she wouldn’t eat anything tonight, either. Despite assurances to the contrary, she didn’t believe her food wasn’t tainted. The dizziness from lack of nourishment was nothing compared to a drug-induced fog. She needed to have her wits about her if she was going to be any help to Ayden.

Padding over the luxurious carpet, she opened the closet and blindly rifled through the assortment of clothing, searching for the blue dress and matching heels Jameson insisted she wear tonight. She held up the hanger. The flimsy material shimmered in the waning light filtering through the windows. The bodice was cut too low, the hem too high. She sighed and threw it on the bed, resigned to let this play out Jameson’s way, praying Ayden knew what he was doing.

* * * *

“Really, Deirdre, you insult me by not eating the food my chef has prepared.”

“I’m not hungry.” But as if on cue, her insubordinate stomach rumbled.

Jameson smiled and sipped his water. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Since my schedule is changed, tonight it will all be over. You will either go home with Shaeffer or be dead. If
Austin is the man I believe he is, it will be the first. But really, I don’t care either way. You’re just a little insurance policy, Deirdre. I like to have loose ends tied up nicely.”

One of Jameson’s henchmen appeared in the door.

“Ah, Anthony, your timing is flawless. Please show our guest in.” He turned to Deirdre, his hand reaching down to caress her thigh. “Speaking of loose ends.”

Pushed by the other henchman, Mark tripped into the room. Deirdre gasped. His face had been pulverized to the texture of raw meat. One eye was swollen nearly shut. Blood dripped from his mouth, and he held his midriff as if several ribs had been cracked or broken.

“Mark.” Deirdre tried to go to him, but Jameson’s firm grasp on her leg held her in place.