Clouds In My Coffee (26 page)

According to the good judge, he had been under the almost constant influence of hallucinogenic drugs and depressants back then. Coupled with a chemical imbalance in the brain that had yet to be diagnosed or treated, the combination had provoked some psychotic and violent episodes. His stint in rehab had served to get him clean, and his underlying chemical imbalance condition had been diagnosed and subsequently treated.

“So, what are you saying? He’s still going to be indicted, right?”

“The federal prosecutor is inclined to make a plea deal. You have to understand that a federal judge is appointed by the President of the United States and it’s for life. Impeachment proceedings can take ten years or more, if the federal officer chooses to fight it.”

“So, what’s the bottom line?”

“He agreed to resign and do ten years in prison, getting out in five for good behavior. He can never work for the federal government in any capacity and he’s open to civil suits by the families of Angie and Cece.”

“Hmmph,” I reply, “Slap on the wrist if you ask me.”

“I don’t disagree, mia caro, but it beats having to spend the next eleven years with him still on the bench while the House and Senate battle it out, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“One thing, Parrish. Don’t say anything to Erik about any of what I’ve just shared, understand? Nothing’s official until it hits the news media.”

“Got it, boss.”

He smiles. “You’d do well to remember that, babe.”

Marco was kind (or chicken shit) enough to allow me to let Erik know that Cece had been pregnant at the time of her death.

“Oh man,” he said, burying his face in his hands momentarily and then looking over at the both of us, “Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”

“She was going to, Erik. The night she died, she was going to tell you after the concert,” I reply quietly.

“And you know this…how?”

“It was all in her diary,” Marco interjects. “Her mother never even knew.”

“So, then she planned on having the baby?” he asks, looking back and forth between us.

“Of course she did,” I reply, “She loves you very much.”

He looks over at me strangely. Probably because I’m speaking in present terms. Here’s my chance to segue into my offer. “Erik,” I begin, “I’m not sure how you feel about supernatural things—whether you’re a skeptic or a believer but, for the moment, let’s put that aside. If I told you that there is a way that you could have a few moments with Cece, to say whatever it is you never had the chance to say to her before she was taken from you, would you want that opportunity?”

He’s studying me intently now, trying to figure out what the hell I’m getting at or maybe he’s contemplating the possibility that he’s having some acid-induced flashback years later, I can’t really tell.

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking, Ms. Locke.”

“Call me Parrish, please? What I’m saying, in simple terms, is that I have a gift—it’s kind of a paranormal thing that just recently surfaced but, for whatever reason, it allows me to act as a medium of sorts, bridging certain spirits from beyond to their loved ones here.”

His forehead creases in confusion and then he looks at me as if a light bulb has gone off in his head. “Do you mean something like what happened in that movie…
Ghost?”

“Exactly,” I reply, with a slight chuckle.

“Hey,” he says with a shrug, “I grew up in the seventies so there isn’t much I refuse to believe in, I guess. I’d give anything to see her one last time—just to say goodbye and to let her know how I felt, still feel even now, about her and about what we had together.”

“Meet me tomorrow around noon at the cemetery?”

“I’ll be there. And thanks, Parrish.”

I feel an enormous sense of accomplishment as we drive away from Erik’s company. I’m actually kind of proud of myself and for the first time, I feel blessed that I have this gift and even prouder of how much Ma helped those stalled souls while she’d been with them.

I wipe an errant tear with the back of my hand and then another. Seeing Cece like that holding her baby and saying that they’re finally together tore me up. How dare someone like Marshall Rydell take that from them!

“Are you okay?” Marco asks, glancing over at me.

I nod quietly. “It’s just sort’ve an emotional thing with me, I guess. We are silent for a moment, both reflecting in our own way.

The silence is broken, however, when that fucking ‘Moves Like Jagger’, from my cell starts playing.

“Fuck, I’ve got to delete that shit,” I snap, grabbing my cell from my purse.

“What is it Ryan?” I bark, inadvertently pressing the ‘speaker’ button instead of the ‘answer’ button.

Freakin’ great!

His voice comes across loud and clear. “Sorry to bother you, Parrish, but you haven’t returned my calls. I just wanted to know where you wanted your things sent,” he said quietly.

There isn’t any urgency at all in his voice, which is what I would’ve expected since I really have been unresponsive to his calls. No use in sounding like a raging bitch in front of Marco. Besides that, I don’t really feel angry any more with Ryan. Maybe what Ma said, however brief and cliché it had been, is the truth. Things happen for a reason. One door closes, another one opens; some “tragedies” are actually a blessing in disguise, every cloud has a silver lining and so on.

“Ryan,” I reply, “I’m really sorry that I haven’t gotten back to you, but the truth is that I’ve been kind of busy here...uh, helping people with a local issue. Can I get back with you tomorrow? Now is really not a good time.”

I halfway expect him to start bitching at me, but he doesn’t.

“Take your time, babe. There’s no hurry at all. In fact, your things are perfectly welcome to stay here until you sort things out. And maybe, you and I can try to sort things out…together?”

Oh my God! Is he serious? I start to call him out on this shit, but Marco intercedes.

“She’s got no interest in revisiting her past, fuck face. Parrish has moved on to bigger and certainly much better things.”

O.M.G.

I am utterly stunned by Marco’s interference, not that I should be surprised by his audacity, because it’s a pretty routine thing for him, but seriously? This is my
personal
business.

“Who the hell is that?” Ryan asks, as my jaw drops open, and I turn to Marco, who is calmly driving into the hotel parking lot.

“I’m Marco,” he replies easily, “And I’ve been fucking Parrish senseless for the past few weeks. You, my friend, are nothing more than a distant memory for her; a lapse in her judgment that I’ve managed to rectify with my cock. Oh, and by the way, you’re fucking welcome! So now, how about you take a fucking hint and stop blowing up her phone? Time for you to shove off, mate.”

He grabs my cell and shuts it off. “Problem solved,” he says, a bit of cockiness lacing his tone, as he tosses the phone into my purse. “Let’s go.”

I’m in shock of what he’s done. “What the hell?” I screech as he’s getting out of the car. He doesn’t bother responding and, in thirty seconds, he’s opening my door and ordering me out of the car.

I get to my feet and instantly I’m in his face. “What the hell did you think you were doing, Marco? You have issues with boundaries don’t you?” I snarl, jabbing my index finger into his shoulder to make my point. “That was totally obtrusive, not to mention crass and inappropriate!”

He peers down at me steadily, his amber eyes burrowing into my soul. “You clearly aren’t considering reconciling with that asshole, are you?”

His audacity knows no limits. “It’s none of your business what I do,” I snap. “But to say what you said to him makes me look like some…some—?”

“What?” he asks calmly.

“Ooh, I don’t know—some
slut
on the rebound!” I finally spit out, turning and walking towards the hotel lobby. Right before I get there, it finally dawns on me to ask him why we’re even here. “Why are we at your hotel, Marco?”

I turn to face him as a smile crosses over his face. He quirks a sexy brow and opens the lobby door for me. “We’ve got some unfinished business, Parrish. We need to see to it
now
.”

And whatever that quicksilver chemistry is that seems to permeate between the two of us, it’s back in full force. No matter how much this man pisses me off and, believe me, he infuriates me in so many ways, there’s something inside of me that refuses to deny him anything.

I don’t understand it myself. He possesses so many traits that I typically regard as distasteful. He’s arrogant and controlling; domineering and stubborn, not to mention that he’s also crass and patronizing.

It doesn’t matter though because his redeeming qualities, specifically his talented cock and magical tongue, seem to have a way of diminishing those negative traits right out of my mind.

There’s no reason to argue the fine points or even attempt to justify my acquiescence. I won’t deny myself the pleasure of Marco one last time.

We’ve barely entered Marco’s suite before we’re ripping off our clothing like sex-starved animals.

We’re both standing there beside the bed naked sizing one another up like prey ready to mate. I’m totally enamored with this man’s physique.

Bold, strong and so beautifully muscled and proportioned. His Italian ancestry has served him well. I feel small and delicate next to him. His smoldering brown eyes ravage me, but only momentarily before he moves to me with panther-like grace, lifting me up against him.

I immediately wrap my legs around his torso and grind my moist heat into his taut belly, giving him proof of just how ready I am for him. I moan in anticipation of having his already erect cock splintering inside my pussy.

He moves toward the bed, lowering himself down onto it and easily turning me around, so that I’m positioned with my sex right over his mouth, his stiff cock within tongue’s reach of me. I spread my legs apart as he lowers me down, bracing them on either side of his shoulders.

“That’s my girl,” he croons huskily, his fingers now tracing along the outside of my slit, “I’ve wanted to taste your pussy all fucking day. Now it’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Marco,” I whimper, my one hand already gripping his hard erection. My tongue lightly teases the crown of his cock, lapping and trailing along the circumference in measured and deliberate strokes.

Marco’s fingers tease my moist clit and then his tongue takes over, gently flicking it while his fingers move inside to fuck my drenched pussy. I feel my clit swell with the constant flick and roll of his tongue over and around it and I hear another moan escape my lips.

I pick up momentum with my tongue on his cock, lapping the bead of pre-cum that has surfaced, trailing my tongue down the length of it and back up to where his Prince Albert cock ring strains now against the engorged head.

I feel his tongue dart into my core as his warm breath caresses the sensitive folds of my sex. He takes his time, which allows me to focus on the pleasure I’m receiving and propels me to provide the same slow and deliberate pleasure to his beautiful cock.

He slowly and methodically licks, nips and french kisses my pussy, swirling his tongue back around my clit and telling me how delicious I smell and taste in his smooth, sexy voice. I feel his words against my heat and my hips start to move in response.

My mouth takes his length in, slowly, inch by inch, my tongue swirls around his girth as I bring him in deeper.

“Mmm, baby,” he moans, arching up a bit, “God, you can suck cock.”

And I’m pleased that he’s pleasured by my mouth and tongue as he continues to pleasure me with his. I close my eyes and continue all the while losing myself in the waves of heated pleasure he’s giving me, mewling and writhing into his face, my juices making wet, smacking sounds as he suckles every drop from me.

I’ve got his cock totally encased now, fucking it with my mouth and his moans are continuous.

Abruptly, he lifts me from his face and I almost scream at the loss of contact, but then he tosses me on my back, his hands spreading my legs wide and, once again, he starts feasting on my drenched pussy. He’s propped my legs up on his shoulders and he’s buried his tongue deeply inside of my sex, as far as he can go. I feel the warmth start at my core and I start trembling as the spasms of my orgasm unravel inside of me, causing me to cry out his name in pleasure.