Mob Boss 4: Romancing Trina Gabrini (43 page)

He just stood there, staring at her.
 
And she sat there, staring at him.
 
And then he walked over to the sofa, sat
beside her, and exhaled.
 

“Where’s Jimmy?” he asked her.

“Asleep,” she said.
  
“Where did you go?
 
Tommy said you
should
 
have
been here by now.”

Reno exhaled again. “Church,” he said. “I went
to St. Albans.”

“It was open this time of night?”

Reno shook his head. “It didn’t have to
be.
 
I couldn’t go in anyway.”

And then the tears came like raindrops, and he
turned into Trina.
 

Trina pulled him into her arms, tears in her
own eyes, as she comforted her broken, ashamed husband.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

After Nell’s funeral, Jimmy left for
Nebraska.
 
He was to spend a week with
Fred Ridgeway and his new bride before returning to Crane to live with Reno and
Tree.
 
The staff at Clauson’s was ready,
the renovations were successful, and the entire restaurant was set to re-launch
in two more days.
 
Life was trying to get
back to normal, and peace returned.

Until the FBI came.

Reno was fucking Trina in her ass as she lay
naked on top of him, her back to him,
her
legs wide
open as his arms wrapped tightly around her.
 
Trina didn’t usually like it this way, even when Reno did her, but she
never refused him entry.
 
And his dick
felt so full inside of her, and she felt so pleased that he was no longer as
somber as he had been all week, and was becoming his old self again, that even
in this position he was rubbing her the right way.
 
She allowed him to do her as long as he
wanted to do her.

But then he withdrew, slid his dick up and
down the crack of her ass, and then guided it inside of her cunt.
 
And that, for Trina, was when her intensity
came alive.

He laid her onto her stomach on their
king-sized bed, pulled her ass up to his cock, and fucked her from behind.
 
Reno came alive, too, as he caught his stride
and moved in and out of her in a fusion of tightness, moistness, and
friction.
 
For the longest time he kept
the same stride, and Trina fell into a groove that left her reeling with
sighs.
 
“It’s so good,” she kept saying,
and Reno kept agreeing as he fucked her long and slow and lovingly.

She laid down flat as he fucked her, and he
laid on top her as he felt the conviction of his love for her with every
stroke.
 
There was a part of Reno that
knew he didn’t deserve this much pleasure, but this wasn’t about what he
deserved.
 
This was about making love to
the woman he loved.
 
This was about
making her feel the trueness of his love with each stroke.
 
He was hitting her spot.
 
He knew how to hit her in just that right
spot because every time he stroked her there, he nearly ejaculated.
 
And her muscles tightened around his shaft
and she groaned again.

“Oh, Tree,” he groaned himself and leaned up
on the palm of his hands as he fucked her.
 
He was feeling it.
 
He was feeling
it unlike he ever had before.
 
And she
was feeling it too as her sex muscles clamped around him and wouldn’t let him
go.

“Oh,
Tree
!”
he wailed when she clamped on.
 
There was
no way he could hold back now.

Until the doorbell rang.

But even then he couldn’t stop.
 
Nothing could make him stop.
 
And instead of getting up, he doubled down,
and continued to fuck his wife.
 
He was
too close to turn back now.

But the doorbell never stopped ringing.
 
And then the pounding on the door began.
 

Trina was feeling it, too, but the loud
knocking and doorbell ringing was becoming more than a distraction.
 
It was becoming unnerving.
 

“Ree, we’ve got to see who it is,” she said as
Reno continued to pump on her, but he knew she was right.
 
He gave up, too.
 
No way were they going to climax with that
kind of outside pressure.
 
He remained
inside of her a moment longer, until his throbbing began to ebb.
 
Then he kissed her on her back again and
withdrew.
 
He wiped himself off, threw on
a pair of jeans, and headed down the stairs.

“I’m coming, dammit!” he said angrily when the
knocking became relentless.
 
“I’m
coming!”

But when he opened the door, and saw two men
who identified
themselves
as FBI, his anger
dissipated.
 
His heart began to pound.

After introducing themselves, the agents
notified Reno that he needed to come with them for questioning in the
gangland-style massacre on the Jersey Shore and for what they believed was the
related killing of Luigi Drago at Vito Giancarlo’s home.
 

Reno didn’t pretend he never heard of the
names, or otherwise offer any alibis.
 
He
never did whenever he was called in for questioning. He simply listened to what
they had to say.
 
It was surprising that
they would trace the crimes to him, since his men were notoriously efficient in
covering every one of his tracks, but it wasn’t unusual, either.
 
He had a history with Vito.
 
They always questioned those with that
tumultuous history first.
 
This wasn’t
Reno’s first time at the rodeo, not by a long shot.
 
He knew the drill.

“Who is it, Reno?” Trina asked from the top of
the stairs.
 
He looked back and saw her
standing
there,
tying the robe around what he knew was
her naked body.

“Just something I have to take care of,” he
said to her.
 
“Can I put on a shirt?” he
asked the agents.

The agents agreed to allow him an opportunity
to put on a shirt.
 
An agent, however,
followed him upstairs.

“What’s wrong, Reno?” Trina asked him as he
and the agent made their way onto the second floor landing.

“The FBI,” he said.
 
“They’re taking me down for questioning.”

Trina’s heart pounded.
 

“Call Tommy,” Reno said after putting on a
shirt and heading back downstairs.
 
Trina
began following behind him.
 

 
“Shouldn’t I call a lawyer?” Trina asked.

“Call Tommy.
 
He’ll
handle that.”

Then Trina began to panic.
 
“Reno,” she said.

“It’s alright, babe,” he said, turning around
and touching her on the hand.
 
“It’s all
right.
 
Don’t you worry about this, I
mean it.
 
Just call Tommy.”

“Okay,” Trina assured him as they escorted him
out of the front door.
 
One agent got in
behind the wheel of the car, while the second agent sat in the backseat, with
Reno.

As the car drove away from his house, however,
Reno saw what looked like Sully’s SUV parked along a side street.
 
He was certain of it as the car passed by and
Sully’s eyes made contact with Reno’s.
 
But it wasn’t a look of surprise on Sully’s face.
 
It was a look of satisfaction.

Reno looked out of the
car’s
back window as they drove passed.
 
He saw
Sully’s SUV turn the corner, and head for his home.
 
Reno turned back around.

Inside the home, Trina didn’t delay.
 
As soon as they placed Reno in the backseat
and drove off, she locked the door and hurried to the phone.
 
She called Tommy.
 
But she got his voice mail.

“Tommy!” she said breathlessly after the
beep.
 
“As soon as you get this message,
come to Crane.
 
The FBI has taken
Reno.
 
They said it’s for questioning,
but Reno looks worried.”
 
Then she
frowned.
 
“Call me,” she said, and hung
up.

Then she hurried to Reno’s office, to find the
phone number to those same high-powered lawyers he had used to help Jimmy.
 
She turned on the light, sat behind the desk,
and began rifling through each drawer.
 
But she turned up nothing.
 
More
than likely Reno had every one of those numbers in his phone.
 
And his phone was with him.

But then the doorbell rang.
 
Trina hurried to answer it.
 
When she looked through the peephole and saw
that it was Sully, she opened the door quickly.
 

“Sully, come in,” Trina said, grabbing him by
the arm.

“What’s going on, Tree?” he asked, hurrying in
and closing the door behind him.
 
“I just
saw Reno driving off in some Ford.”

“It’s the FBI.”

“The FBI?”
Sully asked in a voice of shock.
 
“What’s happened?”

“They took him in for questioning,” Trina
said, looking so distraught that it angered Sully.
 
She deserved way better than this, he said to
himself.

Trina began walking further into the house,
running her hand through her long and unruly hair.
 
Sully looked at the outline of what he
imagined was the finest body he’d ever seen beneath that robe.
 
“They have him for questioning,” she said
again.
 
“That’s all I know.”

“Have you phoned anybody yet?”

“Just Tommy.
 
He
told me to call Tommy.
 
But Tommy didn’t
answer.
 
I left a message.”

Good, Sully thought.
 
Tommy was across the country in Seattle.
 
Good move, Tree.
 
“What about a lawyer?” he asked her.

“I haven’t. . . No.
 
I couldn’t find any numbers.
 
Reno told me Tommy would handle that,
too.
 
But his voice mail picked up.”

Trina stood still and began to cry.
 
Sully hurried to her and pulled her into his
arms.
 
She was naked beneath that robe,
he could feel it.

“What am I going to do?” she said to him.
 
“What if they arrest, Reno?
 
What
 
if
they . . .”

“Stop it, Tree,” Sully insisted.
 
“You know Reno would hate for you to be
worrying like this.”

Trina knew it was true.
 
She therefore exhaled and attempted to pull
herself back together.
 
Reno was strong.
 
He’d come out of this, too.

“Why don’t I make us some coffee, and then I
can maybe make some phone calls to see what’s going on?”

“Oh, Sully, could you?”

“Of course I can!
 
You and Reno are my friends.
 
I’ll do anything for my friends.”

Trina smiled and touched the side of Sully’s
handsome face.
 
“Thanks,” she said with
all sincerity.

“Now you just relax and take it easy.”

“I think I’ll take a quick shower while you
make the phone calls.”

Sully’s dick began to throb.
 
“Good idea,” he said and headed for the
kitchen. He looked back, at Trina’s tight ass, as she made her way up the
stairs.

Something was wrong.
 
It wasn’t adding up.
 
First seeing Sully, as if he was lying in
wait, threw him a little.
 
And now these FBI agents.
 
He looked at the one seated on the backseat with him.
 
He had the look of a g-man.
 
He had the strut down pat.
 
But his shoes were even more expensive than
the imported ones Reno wore.
 
And his
suit was all Italian silk.
 
Same with the driver.
 
Not that he’d
never
known agents with expensive
tastes.
 
He had.
 
But more expensive than his
own taste?
 
On
their salaries?
  
Something wasn’t
adding up.