CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mick was deep inside of Roz going hard. Even harder than she liked. It felt more like a banging than lovemaking, but that was the way it was with Mick sometimes and she allowed it. Sometimes he just had to pound off steam. Sometimes he was spooked.

She rubbed his slick black hair as he laid on top of her grunting and moaning and pounding her relentless. He would occasionally look up at her, ask if he was hurting her, which she always nodded that he was not, and then he’d kiss her, hard too, on the lips. But still pounding away.

It took a long time for him to cum on nights like this, and she allowed him that time. She knew who she married. She knew he was a man with a huge appetite in every way, and she knew her body fed that appetite. She made up her mind when she married Mick: There would be no more baby mamas after her. And if she had to endure his poundings every night, she would.

Fortunately, he only went that hard when his stress was in overload. It was more frequent than rare, but she was thankful that it was infrequent still.

And when he finally came, it was such a relief to her that she always managed to cum too. Which always took her by surprise. She was enduring it, not enjoying it. But as soon as he began to pour into her, it always felt so good to her that her body reacted to this gorgeous hunk of man on top of her that women the world over still craved, and she came too.

When he finally poured all he had into her, he laid there a moment longer, and then he pulled out and rolled off of her onto his back.

She laid on her back a moment longer, too, just to recuperate from his pounding, and then she turned on her side toward him. He was still breathing heavily, but it was controlled. She’d never met a man who knew how to go all the way over the cliff, and to return as if he never was even close to going over.

But she also knew him in every other way too. He never pounded her like that for the hell of it. Something went horribly wrong. “What happened?” she asked him.

He said nothing. Talking to Mick was often like pulling teeth. Your own teeth with your own bare hands! But he was going to answer her. “What happened?” she asked him again.

Mick hesitated again, but Roz continued to stare at him. His sleepy eye barely visible, which usually meant untoward stress for him. “Deuce’s name came up,” he said.

“ Deuce ? Now I know that’s some bullshit.” Roz held a particular fondness for Deuce McCurry. He was Mick’s driver the night she met him. He was the one who convinced her, a struggling Broadway actress at the time, to get in that limousine and allow Mick to give her a ride home. A black man to a black woman, he promised Mick wouldn’t hurt her. And she believed him. “There’s no way Deuce would be involved in Jenay’s shooting. No way.” Then she looked at Mick. “You do know that, right?”

“Of course I know it.”

“But?”

“Parker Fourtaine, the man that shot Jenay, said Deuce was holding his family captive. That Deuce was the mastermind. And when we got to Deuce’s house, Fourtaine’s family was there.”

“ What you say !” Roz was shocked. “They were at his house?”

“They weren’t just there,” Mick said. “They were tied up. The wife said she heard the guys who tied her up call their leader Deuce. And she described Deuce to a T.”

“And Deuce wasn’t home?”

“No. We don’t know where he is. I think he told me he was on vacation in Africa and would be off the grid like he always is when he takes his vacations.”

“So at the very time this kidnapping occurs, he just so happens to be on vacation?”

“They’d supposedly been in his control for months. But that’s not the worse part.”

Roz looked at him. “What is then?”

“While we were there, gunmen broke in and engaged us. We took care of the intruders, but while we were up front fighting the bad guys, another person or persons were around back, breaking into the bedroom where the Fourtaine family was. By the time we got back there, that family was dead.”

“Damn Mick! And you can’t find Deuce?”

Mick shook his head. “I have guys in Africa. But you know him: he doesn’t use credit cards. He has no social media presence. He’s wherever he is.” Then Mick frowned. “I just hope, wherever he is, he’s okay.”

And it was the first time Roz realized Mick wasn’t upset about the fact that Deuce might be involved. He wasn’t even entertaining that thought. He was upset that his friend, his only true friend, might be in danger.

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he hugged her, as they both fell into an uncomfortable silence.