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Authors: Elena M. Reyes

Marked (Marked #3) (8 page)

BOOK: Marked (Marked #3)
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“Good girl.” It was all I heard before he entered my pussy with a single finger from his other hand. Full. That’s how I felt.

Stretched.

Satiated.

Still wanting more.

Talan’s finger curled inside of me and I stiffened, paralyzed, as every single cell in my body exploded in bliss. A euphoric state that left me a gasping and boneless mess atop his bed.

I didn’t know how long I lay there limp, but when my body stopped spasming and I could inhale again without my chest burning, I turned to face him.

And there he stood:

Eyes almost black and heavy lidded.

Naked.

Cock in hand.

Pumping himself slowly while he eyed the evidence of my orgasm dripping out of me. “Part those pretty little lips, Bitty. Let me fuck your sweet mouth.”

10

 

 

There was a faint sound of a knock that rang throughout our quiet house. Three quick raps against a solid wood door that made me shut the water off inside the shower. Knowing what was to come, and welcoming it, were two very different things.

Rehashing the same fucking story over and over again wasn’t fun. It was taxing, exhausted me, and we’d yet to begin with rehash number 305.

“Hey, babe,” Talan called out through our bathroom door.

“Yeah.” A migraine was forming, making wince at the sound of my own voice. From my temples, to the back side of my skull, I throbbed. Sadly, it would only get worse from here on out.

“I think the detectives are here. Going to let then in, and then I’ll be back.” Immediate reaction was to roll my eyes and tell him they could fuck off, but I couldn’t. His tone was as sullen as mine was, and I didn’t want to make it worse. The man was a walking, talking stress ball. One more harsh squeeze, and he’d pop.

Then again, that’s life. Some days you just have to buck the fuck up and except what’s inevitable.

“I’m almost done, babe.” No, I wasn’t. Not even close. Water was off and the only suds in the bathroom were still attached to my loofah.

“Are you going to be all right?” Apprehensive. Always worried. That was how Talan showed his love, by caring—taking the time to make sure everyone he loved was okay.

“Go. There’s no way in hell I could incapacitate myself in here.” And then I laughed; a real deep-within-my-gut kind of laugh. He’d gone beyond what was required for babysitting a patient with bum ribs. “Nothing can happen to me inside this Fortress of Solitude.”

“You don’t know that, Maya.” There was a hint of a pout in his voice, and I wanted to kiss the man silly. Pepper his gruffness with wet pecks of my lips while I roamed soapy hands down his torso. Love him. “What if…” Another rapid set of knocks, and he let out an annoyed, “…impatient fucks.”

“Go.” There was still a hint of amusement in my tone.

“You suck.”

“I do. You love it.”

“Dammit, Maya.” A loud thump followed, more than likely the palm of his hand connecting with the wall beside the door. “Can’t afford to get hard right now.”

“Then walk away, tatt boy. Walk away and let me finish running this sudsy sponge all over my body. Slow, a soft caress across—”

“Not listening…” He was adorable at times.

Shaking my head, I got a bit more comfortable before picking up my favorite bodywash and adding another drop into my sponge. Water was still off, and now with the quiet in the room I was able to really appreciate what this man had done for me.

Talan had bought—against my will the day after my release—a plastic chair for my use inside his walk-in. He’d argued that I’d need it for when he wasn’t around. So I wouldn’t feel stuck. Dependent on him if I needed to clean up.

Of course he was right, much to my annoyance, and the ass knew it. That day I pouted all the way, in my motorized cart, to the cashier. Fucker just laughed and proceeded to kiss my lips as if that was the answer to every problem. As if it would erase all my anger or annoyance toward the offender in question. It was. He just didn’t need to know that.

“Hate you.” Grumbling, his voice carried inside the small room and scared me.

I let out a low squeak; thought he’d left minutes ago. “What the hell are you doing, dork?”

“Letting my dick go soft.” Honest. No shame. Again, adorable.

His knuckles tapped the door once, and then he was gone. The padding of his feet followed as he exited the room and made his way toward the front entrance.

Then the doorbell rang. Incessantly.

“Impatient asses.” Taking my loofah in hand, I lathered up as quickly as I could manage with sore ribs. Talan had already taken care of placing my hair in a lose bun atop my head so it wouldn’t get wet. He’d also lowered everything to my level and reach before exiting to turn the coffee machine on earlier today.

At nine in the morning it was a love/hate relationship from my side in the Cox household.

Thanks to his stubbornness, it was all for him. Not me. The pain in my injured ass wouldn’t let me have a single sip of caffeine with the pain medication I’d been given.

Talan called me salty while sipping on that hot cup of happiness, and I flipped him off.

“Could’ve really used that cup,” I groused while placing my hand over the lever and turning the water back on. All I needed to do now was rinse off and get out. I’ve never been more grateful for a detachable showerhead in my life.

Voices drifted, all male, into the bathroom as they passed by the hallway that led deeper into the house.

“Why the hell are they heading that way?” To be more specific, his Florida room with access to the pool. I ran an agitated sudsy hand down my face before taking in a deep breath, and then let it out slow. “What are you thinking, tatt boy?”

No matter how hard I tried to listen in, it all sounded muffled. Annoyed me to no end.

Ever since Janice attacked, I had begun to feel left out. As if they didn’t want me to know the severity of our situation. Made everything worse.

Another throb against my temples, and I closed my eyes. Everything was too bright. Loud.

Holding the detachable head above my body, I rinsed my hand and then brought it up to the bandaged area over the side of my face. Ran a finger lightly over the stitches. Five in total hid beneath the small gauze.

My first inclination was to rub the area, started to, but then just as quickly stopped. It hurt too touch. The strong headache that was forming made it feel ten times worse than it probably was.

There was no doubt in my mind I’d need to take something for the pain before I attempted to deal with the two detectives. The same men who’d given Talan so much shit inside my hospital room a few days ago. Same one who helped him after the entire Brian fiasco outside my door.

Emotions fluctuated; one minute I wanted to kick them the fuck out, and the other, I wanted to thank them.

“I’m going to end up being the one committed.” With the water set to just above hot, I let it wash away all the soap and massage away some of the soreness I felt. Enjoyed the feel and calm it brought for a few minutes more before turning everything off and grabbing my towel.

My phone was next, and after making sure my hands were dry, I turned it on and pulled up Talan’s name.

Come get me, tatt boy. ~Bitty 

Could I do it on my own? Yes, but I liked him being all sexy nurse, at least when it came to having his hands all over my body. I had no shame when it came to the man.

Coming. ~Talan

Tease. We couldn’t with them being here, and he knew it.

In addition, his coming to get me gave me a certain advantage. I could drill him about the two men outside.

Win. Win.

“Morning, Detectives.” At the sound of my greeting, both Gulver and Marquez stood up, placing their coffee cups atop a coaster on our table. They appeared tired, almost wary of my reaction toward them, and a lot less threatening all together. Nothing like the men that barged into my hospital room days ago.

“Good morning, Miss—” Martinez began, but I cut him off mid-sentence.

“It’s Maya, please, just Maya.” Beside me, Talan chuckled and then just as quickly began to cough. An elbow to the ribs did that to a man. “Sit. I’m ready to get this over with.”

“Before we do, I’d like to apologize,” Gulver spoke up from beside Martinez. He took a step forward and extended his right hand toward me. A peace offering in a sense. “Our last meeting left a bitter taste in your mouth, and for that we…” he said while tilting his head toward his partner “…are extremely sorry.
You
are the victim in this case, and we trampled into your room like assholes accusing and making an already difficult time worse. Sometimes being in this line of work makes you cold. Untrusting. I forgot that your comfort and trust was of our upmost importance.”

Extending my own hand out, I met his halfway and shook it. “Apology accepted, Detective. Now please, let’s all sit and get this over with. As you can understand, talking about the incident over and over again is exhausting, dreadful…” looking at my tatt boy beside me, I nodded as we had already talked about “...just want to be done.” He picked me up with as much ease as he could and sat down opposite the dynamic duo with me on his lap. My back to his chest while his hands skimmed the skin of my lower stomach just above the edge of my lounge pants.

“Understood.” Martinez pulled Gulver back by the arm and they took a seat, each with a notepad sitting beside them and what I could now see as a tape recorder on the table.

If you asked me why I laughed at the sight of the recorder, I had no clue, but I did. “A little old school there, Detectives?” Both laughed, but you could see a slight hint of embarrassment on their facial expressions. “You do realize that there are apps for such things? Heck, even your smartphone records for you.”

Gulver let out a small chuckle before leaning forward and pressing the record button. “I hate smartphones. Too difficult. You need an app to flip it open and one to call. Annoying.” His sarcasm made shit worse, and I cracked up until I almost couldn’t breathe. The man couldn’t have been any older than forty, maybe?

“What my partner is trying to say,” Martinez interjected with mirth in his eyes, “is that he has chubby fingers and they get in his way. Can’t open or type without throwing the entire phone off. Ends up with more items opened than he needed and then it freezes. He breaks them.”

If their intent had been to lighten the mood, they succeeded.

“Thank you.”

“Any time,” Gulver said and then sat back, his expression a bit more serious now. “Let’s start. Are you ready, Maya?”

Was I? No, but there was no choice for me in the matter.

With a quick nod, I leaned further into a silent Talan and drew from his strength to continue. “Start.”

“Good.” Martinez reached for his coffee and took a quick sip. “I’m not going to make you rehash everything since we have a video.” I gasped at that. It’d never crossed my mind that such a fucked-up thing could exist. “The school’s parking garage is well surveyed when it comes to their being cameras everywhere. Two guards are on call always, but unfortunately, when you were hit, they were in the middle of a shift change…a five to ten minute window where the officers were all inside of the security’s main office, both clocking in and out.”

“Motherfucker.” Talan tensed beneath me, his muscles coiling while the hand on my midsection wrapped around and pulled me in tighter. “So it was all planned out. They knew when to…” He couldn’t say the word.

“Strike me.” It came out weak and low. Jesus, the reality of the situation hit home. For the first time, I wasn’t a spectator, but the victim. For the next few minutes, I couldn’t talk.

Planned and executed, they tried to kill me. Waited for the right moment, when security lowered its guard, and attacked without giving a shit about my life or those they’d hurt. So crazed inside her mind was Janice that she would stop at nothing to rid herself of what she claimed was the enemy.

“Bitty.”  Panicked, Talan’s voice sounded far, as if I were treading water, and I turned my face toward his. “Breathe, baby. Nice and slow. Just breathe.”

I felt it then, the sudden weight on my chest pushing me down, crushing me. Spots began to linger in my vision and my throat constricted. I was suffocating and I couldn’t explain why.

BOOK: Marked (Marked #3)
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