Page 14 of Sean Collins

I wait for pity to come over his face. At least, that’s what I got from all the social workers and everyone else who knows about my tragic past. However, S.C. looks at me with admiration, and I find those walls around my heart crumble just a little more.

Chapter Sixteen

Sean

Elora’s story is sad, but it is also one of a resilient girl who let a tragedy give her a purpose instead of letting it break her. I admire people who didn’t wallow in their pain or use a misfortune as an excuse, no matter how awful it is. She even made it her life’s work to find her parents’ killers, and I am going to help her.

Reaching for my phone, I see it’s now eight o’clock. We have eaten, talked, and pleasured each other all night and well into the morning. Elora frowns at me as I put the device to my ear but doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, Boss. What’s up?” Marshall’s voice comes through the line. In the background, I can hear the sound of giggling children. Knowing how happy my friends are with their new lives always makes me smile. Not to mention, being called Uncle S.C. and spoiling them rotten is a blast.

“Do you and Chelsea have time for a meeting today? I have someone I want you both to meet. I think Chelsea may be able to help her.”

Marshall goes silent for a moment before he asks, “This wouldn’t happen to be our thief, would it?”

“It would, but I ask you to reserve judgment until you have talked to her.”

“Alright, but I will be there the entire time,” he says gruffly. Like all the other guys, he is very protective of his woman. I am starting to understand how that feels.

“That’s fine, Marshall. How does noon sound? Your place?”

“Sure,” he replies.

“See you then.” I end the call and look over at Elora. Her eyes are wary, but I utter, “We have a meeting with the mafia princess at noon. Chelsea is a sweetheart and one of our own, so the only thing I ask is that you treat her with respect. She was born into a mafia family and got treated horribly. She isn’t responsible for your parents’ deaths; she was just as much a victim of the mob as they were – maybe even more so.”

Elora nods. “Thank you for setting that up for me. You have no idea how much it means to me that you are willing to trust me.”

“I trust you, but if you mess with Chelsea in any way, just know that we look out for our own.”

She gives me a sassy grin. “I messed with you.”

I gather Elora in my arms and look down into her eyes. “I guess we will let this one slide, as long as you give me my stuff back.”

“I’ll think about it.”

My eyes turn hard, and I kiss her roughly on the mouth and then move down her throat. When she giggles, I can’t help but smile against her skin. I throw Elora over my shoulder, making her squeal.

“I am going to teach you to behave,” I say.

She looks back at me, her eyes wide. Elora bites her lip. “Have I been a bad girl? Are you going to punish me?” she asks me in a sweet voice.

Her questions make my pants tight. I can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to find a woman who can accommodate all sides of me. “Stand up and bend over this bed,” I tell her, feigning anger.

Elora’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she slides off the bed and leans over it. She is still only wearing my shirt and those lace panties that drive me crazy. I slide the shirt up and then pull down her panties. My rough hands caress her back and go over her ass, towards other places that make her moan.

“I love that you are always hot and ready for me,” I whisper in her ear. I stand up, and a loud smack echoes in the air as I slap her bare ass. Elora squeals, and I do it again, rubbing the sting out after every slap. Then, I make quick work of my zipper. Within a minute, I am already inside Elora, taking her to new heights. She gets close to the edge at once, so I thrust harder and faster. Elora soon calls out my name, and I groan as I empty myself inside of her. I am not sure how I am going to give her up when it’s time.

Chapter Seventeen

Elora

I slide my sweaty palms down my jeans and take a deep breath as S.C. and I walk up to a large house away from the main road. It doesn’t look like a place where a biker and a mafia princess live; it looks more like the dream mansion of an affluent couple.

“You got this, girl. We are right here in case this turns out to be some kind of trap,” Eliza says in my ear, and I nod in reply even though she can’t see me.

I don’t think S.C. would do that to me – at least, not after all that we have shared in and out of the bedroom.

“Everything is going to be okay, Elora,” he assures me, perhaps sensing my worry. “Chelsea and Marshall are good people. I called and told them your story as you requested, and they were both sympathetic.”

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