Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

Anthony

I felt the change in the air as soon as I walked back out of the bathroom. Before my gaze even landed on Saylor, already half-dressed and clutching her pants to her chest like a shield.

I'd expected it, I guess.

But it was still a disappointment how quickly she wanted to get away from me, wash the feel of me off of her skin.

With a sigh, I fell into the bed that smelled like her, listening to the shower running, and wondering how she could go from so soft and sweet and clinging to hard, detached, and cold so quickly.

And how to get the other part of her back.

The shower cut off, but it was another half an hour before she finally made her way out. Maybe she thought that if she waited long enough, I might pass out, saving her from actually having to talk to me about what had happened.

I was wide awake on the bed when she came out, gaze focused on the windows, and making a beeline for the couch where she picked up the binoculars, acting like watching the house required her utmost attention. Even though it had been quite literally since we'd moved in a few hours ago.

I figured that Saylor was not the kind of woman who was going to respond well to being pushed—especially emotionally—so I let her have her space for the night, deciding to catch a few hours of sleep, then wake up to take over at the window.

__

I woke up sometime before dawn, the sky still dark, but there were streaks of pink and purple in the distance.

Glancing over, I saw Saylor still sitting facing the window, her arms on the back of the couch. But the binoculars had fallen onto the cushions next to her legs, and her head was resting on one of her arms.

Out cold.

I climbed out of the bed, stretching for a second, then making my way over to her, carefully sliding my arms under her legs and around her back, wanting to move her to the bed.

Only to get kicked and hit as she struggled toward consciousness.

"Even wake up swinging, huh?" I asked, gripping her tighter as I pulled her against my chest.

"Anthony?" she asked, voice all soft with sleep as she looked up at me with dreamy eyes.

"Yeah."

"What are you doing?"

"Carrying you to the bed," I told her as I turned to do just that.

"I'm sleeping on the couch."

"You sure were," I agreed. "Gonna have a hell of a crick in your neck for it, too," I said as I closed in on the bed. "But I'll watch the house now, so you can take the bed."

"I can walk," she insisted, getting more like her usual self the longer she was awake.

"I'm sure you can," I agreed. "But right now, I'm carrying you."

With that, I lowered her down onto the bed before straightening.

Which may or may not have put her practically eye-level with my quickly hardening cock.

What can I say? Being close to her was all it seemed to take. Especially after finally getting to taste, feel, and hear her the night before.

She turned to face the other side of the apartment quickly, but not before I got to see the way her eyes heated, her lids went heavy, and she sucked in her breath.

Emotionally, she might have her reservations about us. Physically, though, she wanted me every bit as much as I wanted her.

I walked around the bed and toward the bathroom, giving her another view, my cock now at full mast, and I may or may not have reached down to run my hand down the length as I closed myself into the bathroom, where I stopped just inside the door, stroking myself hard and fast, wondering if she was listening, if she was out there with her panties getting wet for me as my breathing got faster, as quiet groans escaped me at the memory of being deep inside her, her pussy tightening, then spasming around me as she came.

I came almost embarrassingly hard and fast, needing to take myself into the shower to clean up before making my way back out.

Saylor was still on the bed, curled up in a little ball, eyes closed, but every once in a while, I could see the way she clenched her thighs together, like she was battling with her unmet desire as I walked around, making a pot of coffee, then checking out the window.

Eventually, she must have passed back out, because there was no way she wouldn't have gotten herself a cup of coffee if she was awake.

And about an hour later, as I was watching one of the guys in the row house come back with a tray of coffees and a bag of what was likely bagels, I heard rustling and whimpers coming from the bed.

I turned back, seeing Saylor tangled in the sheets, her long hair splayed across the pillow, one of her mostly bare legs peeking out. Her brows were pinched as another little whimper escaped her, her thighs brushing together restlessly.

Every ounce of me wanted to go over there, to pull away the sheets, to bury my face between her thighs and give her relief from her steamy dream.

But I kept myself on the couch, trying to ignore her as the dream stretched on for an agonizing twenty minutes before her eyes finally opened, staring at the ceiling in confusion.

"You're in the stakeout apartment with me," I told her, watching as she stiffened as her head whipped over to look at me.

"I know," she insisted.

"For a minute there, you didn't," I countered. "Coffee's somewhat fresh," I told her as she folded up on the bed, rolling a crick out of her neck. "Seems like you had… restless sleep."

Her eyes widened, just for a second, but she wasn't willing to admit her attraction that easily.

"I was being chased," she said.

"Oh, is that what it was?" I asked, shooting her a smirk that she quickly turned her back on as she made her way to the little kitchen to pour herself a mug of coffee.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Seven."

"Shit," she winced. "I need to go walk Fury," she said, rushing into the bathroom, and appearing five minutes later fully dressed. "I'll be back," she said, grabbing her keys as she slipped into her shoes.

"Text me when you're almost back. I'll come down and open the back door for you. There's been a little more activity this morning. Don't want to be seen."

"Anything I need to know about?" she asked.

"Not yet. But I'll let you know if something is up."

"Okay," she agreed, rushing out of the door.

Alone, I cleaned out the coffee pot and both our mugs, stripped the bed, and brought it down to do a quick wash, before sticking it in the dryer before ordering breakfast, figuring she would be back pretty quickly, and deciding I probably didn't want to add hungry to the other things working against me with her.

My phone rang in my pocket as I was about to head down to the laundry room again.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

"Yeah. Let me in," she demanded.

"Where are you going?" she asked after I let her in, then turned toward the laundry room.

"Getting the sheets," I said, watching the slightest bit of pink flood her cheeks before she turned and made her way upstairs ahead of me.

By the time I made my way back up, I had the food with me, and Saylor momentarily let all the cold and detached shit drop at the prospect of some food.

"That smells amazingly greasy," she said, grabbing some of the paper plates out of the cabinet, since it felt crazy to buy brand new plates for a temporary apartment.

"Sausage, egg, and cheese on bagels with a side of amazingly greasy hash browns," I agreed, then pulled out a third package.

"What's that?"

"Fruit," I admitted. "Gotta get some decent nutrients in along with all the grease," I said, popping the top of the fruit salad for both of us to pick at.

"No word from Elio or Gio?" she asked.

"Not yet. But I imagine I'll hear from one of them at some point today. Even if we can't do a meeting today."

"Good," she said, biting off half of a hash brown and letting out a moan that went right to my dick. "Oh, my God," she said, sighing hard. "I need like fifty of these."

"I got you five," I said, but pushed three of mine toward her too. I hadn't hit the gym in days. It was probably better to ease up on the junk until life was back to normal.

Though, to be honest, I kind of liked this little life better. In a shoddy, sparsely furnished apartment with shitty water pressure, and concerning peeling paint on the kitchen cabinets.

It didn't exactly take any thought to realize the reason for liking this place better than my place was the fact that Saylor was here with me. Even if she was stubbornly only talking to me about the damn job and Fury.

But, hey, it was talking.

And the more the day went on, the less tense she seemed.

"Is that Elio?" she asked when my phone buzzed later that evening after a long day of taking shifts watching the house and fucking around on our phones since we had no TV.

"No. It's Miko," I said. Then, at her scrunched look, "My cousin Cosimo's right-hand guy."

"Cosimo, the one who was on trial recently, right?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"What does he want?"

"Just checking in, offering help if it's needed."

"Why haven't we heard from Elio?" she asked, picking up the binoculars to look across the street again.

I got her frustration.

It was getting late. The sun had long set. And it wasn't like Elio or Gio to drag their feet when you were asking for a favor.

"I don't know," I admitted. "It's not like him. If we don't hear something by the morning, I will reach out. Don't want to be a pain in his ass, though. I'm sure they have their own shit going on."

She started to nod at that, but her posture stiffened suddenly.

"What is it?" I asked, cutting the big light, and making my way over to the couch, kneeling on the cushions next to her, and looking across the street.

"Who do you think that is?" she asked, reaching out for her phone to bring up the camera, zoom in, and take a picture. A man stood outside of the row house door, glancing casually around as he waited for the door to open.

"I have no idea," I said, looking down at the picture. "Maybe we can send it to Keith, see if he knows anything." Getting a nod from her, I used her phone to do just that, then sent the image to myself, so I could send it to Miko.

"Who are you sending that to?" she asked.

"Miko. He has a pretty good eye on everything going on in the city. If there's anyone in my Family who might know who that is, it's him."

"It could just be a customer," she said as the door opened, and one of the guys in the house looked up and down the street before letting the guy inside.

"Maybe," I agreed, both of us just sitting backward on the couch, watching the house. But there was no activity. If this was a customer, this was a long-ass vetting process as one hour passed.

"Ugh," Saylor grumbled as I finally started to move off of the couch. She was sitting with her elbows on the back of the couch, her ass popped out, her head lowered, rolling her head from side to side like she was trying to work out a knot.

"Here," I said, moving to stand behind her and reaching out to press my fingers into her neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping. Stop being such a pain in the ass," I said, getting a little snort out of her. But her whole body tensed as my fingers met the sore spot of a knot. "See?" I said, working it with my thumbs until her posture started to soften again.

Did I stop when the knot was out, though?

Fuck no.

Not when she was being all soft again, leaning to each side, making more room for me to massage out the aches.

My fingers teased up, sliding into the silky strands of her hair, gently working across her scalp, something that she clearly enjoyed, judging by the way she sat up straight, getting closer to the sensations.

A little moan escaped her as I increased the pressure slightly as I worked across her scalp.

"Feel good?" I asked, wondering if she could hear the way desire had thickened my voice. All I got in response was another little moan. So I just kept working her for another few minutes. Until I just couldn't fucking help myself. "See what you could have if you weren't avoiding me all damn day?" I asked, feeling her start to stiffen and pull away. My hand slid back to the hair at the nape of her neck, twisting, and pulling hard enough to send pain across her scalp. I forced her face up to the ceiling, looking up toward me.

I knew it was the right move as I saw heat sparking in those dark eyes of hers.

"You think being an asshole is going to get you in my pants again?" she asked, not willing to give in quite so easily, even if the way her eyelids went heavy told me she was too far gone to go back now.

"No," I said, tugging her hair harder as I moved inward, pressing my cock against her ass. "I'll get in your pants again because your pussy is aching for my cock."

"I don't—" she started.

"Maybe I should check," I said with another little tug as my other hand slid across her hip, then moved lower.

She'd opted for leggings when she'd gotten dressed, so when my hand pressed between her thighs, I could feel the heat of her, could feel how wet she already was for me.

"Hmm," I said, sliding my fingers up her pussy to press into her clit. "Seems like you do," I said, watching her eyes go hazy with her need as my fingers started to work her through her pants.

Her lips parted to whimper and my fingers tugged her hair, making her take a sharp inhale that exhaled on a moan that went right to my dick.

"Want more?" I asked, getting a frantic little nod out of her that only served to tighten my hold on her hair, something that had her thighs clenching around my hand.

"Yes," she whimpered, rocking her hips against my palm, restless, desperate for more.

And, fuck, was I happy to give it to her.

My hand shifted up, sliding under her panties, and tracing up her pussy.

"Fucking drenched," I murmured, taking my sweet time getting toward her clit, leaving her writhing against me. "You've been thinking about my cock all day, haven't you?" I asked, doing short little pulses on her hair as my thumb teased around the hood of her clit.

"Y-yes."

"Like this?" I asked, thrusting two fingers into her waiting pussy, feeling her walls tighten around them immediately, wanting more. Wanting my cock.

But not yet.

Not until she was fucking begging for it.

" Yes ."

"You were dreaming about me fucking you this morning, weren't you?" I asked. Then, at her silence, pressing the pad of my thumb into her clit. "Weren't you?" I asked, pulling her hair a little harder.

"Yes," she admitted, rocking her hips as my fingers started to fuck her. Hard and fast. I wanted her fucking mindless with her need before I yanked down her pants, and surged inside her.

"Do you still want it now?" I asked, the pain of my own desire growing.

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Yeah? Turn around and show me how much," I said, sliding my fingers out of her panties, and pulling at her hair as she turned toward me.

Understanding the command, her hands went right to my lounge pants, yanking down the waistbands of my pants and underwear.

My cock was barely free before she was leaning down and sucking me into her mouth.

"Fuck," I groaned as she took me to the base, making my fucking vision go white for a moment as she started to work me.

Hard and fast and sloppy, taking me so deep she gagged.

"You feel so good with your mouth around my cock," I said, hand holding the hair at the base of her neck as I started to thrust back into her throat, loving the way her fingers dug into my thighs as she made little gagging sounds. Like she was enjoying it just as much as I was.

My hand pulled her hair hard, forcing her off of me before I lost control, before I got to bury deep inside of her again, then continuing to pull until she followed the silent command to turn back around.

"Hands on the back of the couch," I demanded, watching as her ass extended out to me.

With one hand, I yanked at the material, getting it out of my way, so I could see her round ass, could see the way her inner thighs glistened with her slick need.

"Touch your pussy for me," I demanded, having to release her hair to dig for the condom I'd slipped into my pocket this morning for this very moment, and slipping it on as I watched her fingers tease around her clit. "Fingers in," I told her, watching as two slipped inside of her, hearing her little moan as she started to finger-fuck herself.

"Is that enough?" I asked, gathering her hair again. "Or do you need my cock?"

In a silent answer, her fingers slid out of her, her fist balling up on the back of the couch as she rocked back against my cock.

"Tell me," I demanded with a little tug as I rocked my cock against her, but didn't give her what she wanted. Not until she asked or begged for it.

"I want your cock," she admitted, her voice a whining whimper.

I couldn't tease her for another minute.

My cock slid back then slammed in, taking her to the base as her pussy tightened around me. Saylor let out a deep moan as I took a steadying breath, trying to find control.

But it was in short supply.

So I twisted her hair around my fist, grabbed her hip, and started to fuck her.

Fast and desperate, like we both wanted.

"You like it like this, don't you?" I asked, getting a whimper out of her. "Anyone could look up here and see you taking my cock," I told her as her moans filled the room, the sound only making me fuck her harder, driving her right to the edge before her pussy was spasming around my cock as her body shuddered.

I gritted my teeth and fought back the need to come with her, fucking her through it, milking it for all it was worth, then sliding out of her to drop down on the couch.

I reached for her, pulling her down on my lap, her body still all boneless and soft as she leaned into me, my cock just pressing against her pussy as I tilted her head to seal my lips to hers.

This was probably the only chance I'd get to make the kiss slow and intimate, my lips teasing hers, deepening by degrees as she melted into me, sighing softly against my lips.

It was Saylor who got hungrier first, deepening the kiss, teeth nipping, tongue exploring.

It wasn't long before she was rocking her hips, making my cock glide against her cleft.

I let her take the lead, taking what she wanted from me, getting herself to the point of no return.

She sat back, gaze on me, as she rose up, then took me in again, her moan mingling with my relieved exhale while her pussy pulled me in deep.

She paused when she had me in to the base, her heated gaze holding mine. My hands went around her, holding onto her ass while she started to ride me. Slowly at first. Then faster and harder as the need for release grew, her moans loud and shameless as she got right to that edge.

I rocked up into her as she started to roll her hips in frantic little circles, her moans turning into gasps as her pussy tightened around my cock, then pulsing around me as she came, falling forward into me with the intensity.

I kept thrusting up into her, dragging out her orgasm, then finding my own with a low groan.

Her face was nuzzled into my neck afterward, her one arm resting lightly on my other shoulder. If I wasn't mistaken, it was the closest thing to a hug she felt comfortable initiating.

Much more comfortable with that kind of intimacy, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly to me. And I swear to fuck she let out a little contented mewling sound as I held her.

I don't know how long I held her.

All I could say was it wasn't long enough.

But something outside of the window must have caught her attention, because she suddenly sat up, moving off of me, distractedly yanking her pants back up as she reached for the binoculars.

"What's going on?" I asked, trying not to sound as disappointed as I felt.

"Four of them are leaving," she said, excitement tripping into her voice.

"That still leaves three in there," I reminded her.

"We could take on three," she said as I turned just enough to see those four men climbing into a car at the end of the street.

"We don't know how long they're going to be gone. Do you want to be mid stealing back your supply only to have the other four come in and kill us?"

Maybe I was trying to sound like I was being the voice of prudence. But deep down as I got up off the couch, I knew the truth.

I didn't want to get her supply back yet.

Because I wasn't ready to stop playing house.

And I damn sure wasn't ready to have Saylor not be a part of my life anymore.

And I couldn't quite muster up any guilt for my ulterior motives either.