Read Return to Poughkeepsie Online
Authors: Debra Anastasia
In an instant she took him in completely, remembering when he hit the back of her throat how goddamn huge he was, though the soreness between her legs should have reminded her already.
Before he could get oriented, she did everything she remembered he liked and hated. Teeth, tongue, and a swirling hand motion started his hips pumping and his mouth cursing—every sensitive spot hit like the assassin she was. No build up, no slow seduction, she gave him everything and he responded in kind, his fingers and mouth fighting back, forcing her to release him and take a moment to gasp.
And so it began, for every sexual task she set to, he matched and bettered her, yin and yang. Sucking and biting, his fingers asked her to experience things only he could create for her. Then the vibration started at a dull roar. He dragged the vibrations from back to front, her legs twitching when he found her melting spot. And then he pressed. It was as if her body was electrically wired to his desires. Her orgasm came quickly, while he watched from inches away. She’d stopped sucking him off for fear she might actually injure him. She was flat-out screaming and growling for him now. She grabbed the backs of his thighs, clawing her desire into his skin.
“That’s right. Come. I know you have more.” And then he began with the fingers, punishing her body into submission. Her release was ridiculous, pouring from her and soaking his mattress. It was minutes that seemed like hours of an out-of-body experience. The heaviness gone, finally free. She was boneless and useless, but when she opened her eyes and saw the room upside down, she still remembered she’d lost the battle.
It was time to win the war. She stole his battery-powered torture stick and used it to take his balls on a joyride. He braced on the mattress and fucked her mouth for all he was worth. When his cursing filled the room, a good number of people might have been frightened, but not her.
She took liberties with this powerful man that only she had the guts to do. Fingers, hands, teeth—scraping and teasing until she knew he was full to the breaking point. And then she spread her legs so his only view was this power she had over him.
“Holy fucking shit.” Beckett was about to pull free, so she grabbed his ass and locked him in her mouth, swallowing what he had to offer, killing him the entire time he came.
And she took back the win.
After yet another shower, Beckett had his girl in his arms on the couch in the living room. G was a snoring mess after a thorough belly rub from Eve.
“I won the sex—so we’re clear.” She gave him a kiss on the lips.
“You won the battle. For us, sex is a war, stuffin muffin. And I’m a warlord.” He growled at her.
“Okay. Keep telling yourself that.” She rested completely against him now.
Beckett pulled her closer as he rearranged himself to sink deeper into the couch, rubbing his foot on his dog. No enemies lurking, no fucking errands to run for His Geezerness Rodolfo, and an ace in the hole against future troubles, thanks to the cunning Ms. Eve. He was a little bit terrified by how much he loved this moment.
Sneak Peek
The Poughkeepsie Brotherhood
book 3
E
VE
P
ARKED
H
ER
M
OTORCYCLE
outside Starbucks in the crisp November air and used her credit card to pay for street parking. Beckett had given her hell for not going with him to Maryland to see the new baby. But although she was thrilled that Cole and Kyle were finally getting their child, the sight of a baby still killed something in her and she could find no way to tell him that. So he was pissed, and left strict instructions for her to take douchebags with her everywhere she went until he got back.
However, at the moment, instead of accompanying assholes, she had her piece on her and a knife tucked inside her jacket. It had been months since their showdown with Rodolfo Vitullo, and neither he or anyone else from Vitullo Weapons had bothered them at all. Besides, she just needed a quick cocoa.
She got on line and ordered her usual. But when she went to pay, Ryan’s voice was in her ear. “Let me.”
Eve nodded, keeping her eyes on the counter. She knew having to face Ryan was coming eventually now that she was living in Poughkeepsie again. It was a miracle it had been this long, but she just wished she’d seen it coming. As they waited for their drinks, she looked him up and down—still handsome, but more rugged than last time. And he still had love for her in his eyes, which made her look away.
“Ride here on the back of someone’s bike?” he asked, gesturing to her helmet.
She responded with her best not-fucking-likely glare.
“You have your own?” He grabbed her drink before the barista could call Eve’s name, then took the next order right out of the lady’s hand.
“I do.” She tapped her foot and looked at her beverage.
“Come with me to a table, and I’ll let you have it.” He gave her a smile.
He was trying. She hated how deeply she’d hurt him. “Fine.” She followed him to a corner spot and sat, resting her helmet on the extra chair.
“This is where it all started.” He slid her cup across to her waiting hand.
She said nothing, but took a sip of the piping hot chocolate.
“Fancy meeting you here.” He tried again. “I was just thinking about you.”
She could see women looking at him. He made a nice package in his crisp slacks and button-down shirt. She sighed.
“Listen, I’m not trying to make this awkward for you. I just wanted you to know I looked into my uncles’ records. I unearthed some buried juvie reports.” He twirled his coffee in his hands. “There was some information there I wanted to address with you. You were—”
“You didn’t have to do that,” she interrupted. “Why change your memories of them? You should have left well enough alone.”
His jaw tensed. “Because as much as I said I didn’t believe you, I didn’t think you’d…” He looked around before lowering his voice. “…kill people without a reason. Now Taylor, yes. I still think he’s a barnacle on a dragon testicle.”
Eve suppressed a laugh.
“Okay, whatever. I’m nervous.”
She smiled at him and sighed. “You know you taught me to laugh. I didn’t do it enough before you.”
He stopped talking and took a sip of his coffee. They sat together, the distance between them so much greater than the table.
“You with him now?” Ryan stared out the window.
“Yeah.” She crossed her legs and accidently brushed against his under the table. “Sorry.”
“For kicking me or for throwing your life away?” He leveled his brown eyes on her.
“If you thought that was a kick, we have an issue.” She tried to make light of his question, but things were getting awkward. She got to the point. “You need to move past me now.”
He shook his head and frowned. “I disagree. I’m not one for giving up.”
“Let’s review: You’re a cop. I’m the exact opposite of that.” Eve touched his hand. “And besides, he’s where I’ll always be, even if it’s just in my head. You deserve better.” She stood and grabbed her helmet. “That sounds fake, but I want the best for you. I really do.” She shrugged, knowing he’d never understand how much she wished they could be friends. She’d miss him.
He nodded instead of answering, and Eve tossed her cup out on the way to her bike, a thousand emotions swirling through her. By the time she looked up, it was already too late.
Ryan watched her leave, silently hating how goddamn beautiful she was. It would be a hell of a lot easier to sit rejected if he didn’t have a giant hard-on. And if she wasn’t driving a motorcycle.
Fuck me sideways.
He hung his head. Damned if he hadn’t lost her forever. And it sucked.
Son of a bitch.
He looked down at the table, running his hands through his hair until the red and blue lights reflecting off the walls of the coffee shop caught his attention.
He stood and turned, looking for the source, and he saw Eve kneeling on the sidewalk with her hands in the air.
Ryan walked briskly outside, where two policemen had their guns drawn and pointed at Eve.
“Keep your hands nice and high where we can see them,” one of them admonished.
Ryan couldn’t stop himself. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Step aside, sir. This is police business.”
“Really? Then you won’t have any trouble sharing.” He pulled his badge out of his jacket and showed it to the men.
And look of panic flashed between them. Although they were in uniform, they had what appeared to be an unmarked car.
“What’s your station house? Because I know this isn’t a local situation.” Ryan stepped closer to the armed men and looked at Eve. She was staying put, hands in the air.
“Sir, we’re in process here. If you’ll excuse us…” The first holstered his weapon and approached her carefully.
He pulled her hands behind her and grabbed his handcuffs. Ryan pulled out his cell phone and dialed Kathy, the receptionist at the station.
“Hey, cutie,” she answered. “I’m headed out the door. What’s up?”
“What’s your badge number, partner?” Ryan wasn’t above getting physical, but after staring for a moment, the man rattled off a number. Ryan repeated it to Kathy and asked her to run it. It was wrong, the way these guys were going about things. “What’re the charges?” he asked them as he waited.
“This is our case, and now is not the time.” The second man pulled Eve to her feet.
He was staring into her eyes when Kathy told him what he already knew: “There’s no record of that number. You need some backup, baby?”
“Okay, sorry. I know you were leaving. Thanks for your help on that.” Ryan hung up on her and turned to the men.
“I apologize—just jittery lately. You guys need any help bringing her in?”
“No, we’re good. Thanks, though.”
They pulled Eve along and tossed her in the back of the car in a way very unlike what any real cop would do. One jumped into the driver’s seat, and the second slipped in next to Eve in the backseat as she righted herself.
She slumped again, as if she’d been hit or shot, as the car pulled away, lights and sirens blazing.
Beckett pulled into the hospital’s parking lot feeling off. Something wasn’t right, but damned if he could figure it out. He called Eve and it went straight to voicemail.