The Wrath of Cain (The Syndicate, #1)(45)

God, why did I quit smoking again? A smoke sure would hit the spot right about now. The bar phone has been ringing nonstop with members wanting to know why they’re not allowed in. I finally had Priscilla set the answering machine to pick up after one ring. They can leave a message. I’m not dealing with them right now. Salvatore’s people from New York are crawling all over the place; it’s like a damn war zone out there. He wasn’t on edge like this when Calla was in Canada, but now that she’s here, he trusts no one. And Manny? He’s off doing my job. Now I feel like Calla did when she first arrived here and I told her she wasn’t going to leave. Except I’m trapped in my own damn territory.

“Whoa there, mister. Who crawled up your ass this morning?”

And there’s her smart little mouth. The one she’s been hiding for the past several days. The one that would look good wrapped around my dick.

“Nothing’s crawled up my ass. You can come over here and crawl on my lap if you want,” I challenge slyly.

Calla strides farther into the room.

“I’ve told you to go. Go do your work. I can go stay with my parents. I know you’re going crazy being locked up here. So am I.”

Her hair is down today, hanging halfway down her back in loose waves. Big and messy. How I would love to grab a handful of it while I’m buried so far inside of her that all she can think about is begging me to give it to her harder. Or to feel it whipping around me as we take a ride to wherever we want to on my bike, this time not having to hide from anyone or only going so far because she has to get home. I want the whole damn world to know she’s mine. I’ve waited years.

These past few days not being able to touch her have been torture. I get where she’s coming from. The night she first came here, we f*cked like wild animals. Our desperation for each other was so intense, it was bound to happen.

I’ve had enough waiting, though. I want her, and I know she wants me. Every part of her body tells me she does, from the way she watches me get dressed in the morning as her eyes roam over my body, to the way she kisses me, pushing her body up against mine. I feel her heat. Her body trembles whenever I kiss that spot on her neck.

And then there are her legs. Her legs are longer than Eight Mile Road. Is there a fork somewhere down Eight Mile Road? If there is, I’m not going left or right. I’m plowing the motherf*cker right in the middle. At least, that’s where I’m looking to plow right now.

My dick gets hard from just the thought of her, but when I touch her, he turns into a beast. A mad, angry f*cker. Whenever we’ve gone too far, she pulls back mere seconds after she realizes what she’s doing.




I’m a mess. Pushing my chair back a few inches, I thump my head down on my desk.

“Seriously?” she asks.

Her toes move into my line of sight. They’re painted a bright pink. Yesterday her mom finally came over with a doctor. They won’t give her any form of birth control until they’re sure she isn’t pregnant. So now if we do have sex in the next few weeks, I have to use a condom.

After the doctor left, they spent most of the day tucked inside our house, painting each other’s nails, talking, and drinking wine. I’m glad she has that close relationship with her parents. The other day I asked Calla if she had grown a pair of balls, but I should probably check myself to see if I’ve grown a *, with all this whining I’m doing inside my own head.

“I know what you need. Sit up, babe,” she commands firmly.

“I am sitting up. Take a look,” I taunt, looking down at my dick. It’s hard. He’s just as horny as I am and he’s f*cking killing me.

“I can see he’s standing at attention. If he wants some attention, then please sit back.”

He most definitely wants attention. I end my inner wrath. She’s once again boosted my thoughts. If she’s going to do what I hope she is, I’m all for it.

My fingers reach up and slide down her cheek as my gaze takes her in hungrily. The hunger for me in her eyes stares right back, so full of love, patience, and forgiveness.

“You deserve the f*cking world, baby. I want to give it to you. I’m an ass.”

Her tongue darts out and licks the entire outer edge of her lips. My fingers leave her jaw, tracing around the same spot she just licked. She is so beautiful. I don’t deserve her.

“You can be. But I know what your problem is. I have the same exact one. You know what I mean?”

Her hand glides down my chest, stopping at the waist of my jeans. She flicks the top button open.

When she ducks her head, her teeth grab my zipper and tug it down. Christ almighty, I knew she was a naughty girl. Fucking hell.

She nips the tip of my cock with her teeth, jerking me off of the chair.

“Fuck me,” I moan.

“I’m about to, with my mouth,” she says seductively, all the while tugging my jeans off of me.

I lift my ass to help her. When my jeans are down around my ankles, Calla leans in again, her dark hair flowing everywhere. I grab it and tug it hard while she continues tormenting me. I could lose my load right now and her mouth hasn’t even touched me.

“I’m loving seeing you on your knees, although it should be me on my knees begging you to love me forever, telling you my heart is finally healing. Good Lord, you have no idea how hard you make me. How badly I crave you deep within my bones.”