Page 88 of Gluttony
“Fuck,” he bit out.
“Goddamn it,” she cried. “We’re in this together, Tony. Don’t ever forget that.” Whatever was going on in his mind, he had to share. If he didn’t, then this wouldn’t work. And she wouldn’t let them break. She gave them both a moment to adjust.
His stuttering breath pulsed along her spine, as though he battled with himself, with whatever he was refusing to share. Her heart clenched. What if something had gone wrong while he was patrolling? What if he couldn’t save someone and they had died, and she’d jumped his bones the moment he’d come home? Maybe he just needed someone to hold him. Or maybe he needed someone to work out his energy on.
She decided he’d had enough time and started moving herself along his length. Out and in. Out and in. An audible hitch of his breath told her she’d surprised him, or turned him on. The hand on her hip flexed. The one in her hair tightened. What was he thinking? Hard? Slow? Needles pricked her scalp where he pulled, and then using her body and hair as an anchor, he began moving with slow, restrained strokes.That’s right, baby. Let go.His rhythm quickly turned punishing. Harder. Deeper. Faster. Until warmth unfurled in her groin.
“Yes,” she gasped. “More.”
More of this every night. More of her giving this hero someone to come home to. More of having someone come home to her. As if hearing her silent proclamation, he drove harder.
“You’re mine, Bailey,” he grunted near her ear.
“Yes.”
His body met hers with unfaltering, jarring force, igniting fire in her veins.
“Mine,” he growled again.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered, and bit the sheet.
Her orgasm hit with the force of a hurricane, drowning her senses with ecstasy and skirting the borders of pain. Tony’s thrusts took on a desperate edge. He let go of her hair and gripped her waist, taking her with unforgiving passion until he stiffened and collapsed on her back, rolling their sweaty bodies together into the sheets until they were on their sides. Burying his face into her neck, he kissed her, and then held her cocooned in his iron embrace.
He stayed like that until his breathing evened out, until she knew she was alone in her wakefulness, knowing that for all his talk about walls crumbling, his were still up, as strong as ever.
She had to do something to show him how she felt, that it was real, and she couldn’t think of a better way than protecting his family from the CIA.
Twenty-Nine
Tony avoidedBailey as much as he could over the next few days, but at nighttime he’d come home from patrol, and she would give him everything he’d wanted. At first, because he’d worked himself into a frenzy thinking she wasn’t going to be there, he took it without question, relieved she was there. But the longer she’d gone without telling him who the man in the car had been, the more his distrust simmered.
She’dliedto him, or at the very least omitted the truth. No mention of the man, only that her car was scratched up. It was probably his stalker taking it out on her. He needed to sort that shit out. All of it. For now, he had a lunch to get to.
Walking out of the Lazarus House lobby and into the street, he cracked his neck to release tension. He was starving, and the family had asked him to lunch at Heaven. They had news about Bosch and his wife.
He was in the mood for neither a family meeting, or life in general.
A week of patrolling had left a brutal handprint on his emotions. What started out like a fun session with Parker, had ended a twisted heap of despair riddled regrets. While Tony had failed to sense deadly gluttony from the plant creature, he’d caught plenty coming from the vilest of humans.
The first had been a disgustingly fat man sitting before a flickering television, eating a stack of TV dinners, while his anorexic and starving child was locked in a closet, screaming to be let out. Tony had been so furious that he’d pinned the man’s hands to the dinner tray with his fork and knife, and then proceeded to beat him within an inch of his life. Without Parker there to level his head, who knew how far he’d have taken it. In the end, the kid would end up in the foster system, and maybe no better a place.
The following night, Tony had found a drunk man using a smashed wine bottle to slice up the bartender who’d cut him off. The scene had been like something out of a slasher movie. The worst part—none of the patrons, or even security guards, had stepped in to help before Tony had arrived.
Each night got progressively worse until Tony stumbled home with sore fists and a raw heart, remembering what had given him the need to numb his mind with drugs in the first place. He’d come home dirty with the feeling of gluttony, and ready to wash it all away with a heavy dose of... something, but when he’d seen Bailey in his bed that first night, his heart had shattered along with his mind.That lingerie.That body. All that was left was for him to do was get lost in her untainted touch. He’d taken her every night, and she’d let him. Until the morning when reality hit and he would slip out before she woke.
She was keeping secrets.
Brooding, Tony stepped across the threshold of Heaven, gave a valiant wave to the maître d, and then made a beeline for the private dining room toward the back. With the restaurant at capacity, the sense of gluttony pierced his skin and clawed him down. His footsteps dragged the closer he got to the private room. In a moment of weakness, he wished for Bailey to be at the family gathering so he could touch her smooth skin and siphon his pain away, but like a coward, he’d not invited her. He hadn’t even spoken to her during daylight hours, and there was nothing beyond the general lovemaking directives during the night.
He was a coward, but drunks always were. Why did he think he’d be different after meeting her?
Conversation hushed as he passed booths and tables of people. The sudden silence made the kitchen sounds seem to grow in decibel. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he tried not to appear approachable. He was in no mood for a selfie today. Getting to the back of the restaurant, he spotted the private dining-room door open with Sloan glaring at him.
He stopped.
Uh-oh.
Word must have gotten around to Max, and then to Sloan. He straightened his spine and continued.
