Stone Walls (24 page)

“Do I need a condom?” he asks before lowering me.

“I’m on the pill.”

“I trust you. I’m clean, Ella. I want to know that you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

With a nod, he lowers me onto his length, inch by inch. “Fuck, Ella. I can feel you, every bit of you.”

My straddling position enables him to bury himself deep inside me. Once I’m seated on his lap, skin to skin, he moves his hands from my ass and skims them up to my breasts. He’s giving me control. I’m torn between remaining motionless to absorb the pleasure he’s causing inside or to move over him to create a different pleasure from the friction between us.

Alternating both seems like the ultimate solution. I use his shoulders, holding on for leverage. He sits still, except for his hands moving over my breasts, my ribs, my back. The rhythm I create, slow, fast, slow, fast, is the perfect combination.

I come first, and when I settle, he comes next. The pucker forms between his brows. I’ve become familiar with it. It appears just before he comes. He holds my hips as he does. I’ve also come to expect that from him. He prefers to be buried as deep as he can be when he releases everything.

A slow smile spreads across his gorgeous face. “I’m glad those two got lost.”

“Me, too.” I kiss him gently before adding, “I’m also glad Andrea is so pushy.”

“Me, too,” he repeats with another kiss.

Several monumental things have happened over these past few weeks. First off, Frank Politto is alive but is now sitting in a jail cell for drug trafficking. The charges of murder against Smyth have been dropped, but he is also sitting in a cell for the same charge as Frank.

Once news broke that the general manager of Social Workouts was arrested and why, the gym’s popularity went from the hottest place to be to the absolute must place to be. Lines formed just to collect the coveted paperwork that would get them a membership. Memberships are worth their weight in gold, and if you have one, you’re in. Society amazes me. The fact that a despicable pack of lowlife criminals can inexplicably cause people to flock to their business because they committed awful crimes and made national news speaks volumes for the morality that surrounds us.  

Rob and I led a long string of arrests against a dozen of Politto’s pushers who controlled most of the five boroughs. Most of Politto’s soldiers, underbosses, and two of the three remaining bosses have been indicted by the FBI for labor racketeering, drug trafficking, tax evasion, loansharking, and extortion. It was hailed the biggest shakedown in Manhattan since Gotti got busted.

The only two left are Politto Jr. and Razzo.

Politto is squeaky clean. There isn’t a shred of evidence against him. Razzo is even cleaner. All evidence we have points to Smyth and Frank. Politto and Razzo were very careful in ensuring they would take the fall. I no longer feel the two are against each other. If they were, Politto would have taken care of Razzo by now like he did the other two bosses. I raised my concern to Farley. He assured me the bad blood between them still exists. He also said Politto is getting extremely desperate.

The two missing mob bosses haven’t been found and are both assumed dead. Without charges of a lesser nature, there’s nothing that we can arrest Politto for. The charge Farley is carrying a hard-on for is the first-degree murder of the two missing bosses, just to begin with.

No new leads have surfaced from Ella’s case. Nothing places Smyth near or around Massachusetts the night of Virginia Parker’s murder. Rob and I had to be very careful with our investigation. To say we are both frustrated is an understatement. Farley hasn’t uttered another word regarding Smyth’s connection to Ella and assumes I have indeed backed off.

I gingerly brought up the discussion with Ella. When she became physically emotional recounting the events of that night, I dropped the subject. She’s told me everything she knows and all she remembers. I refuse to upset her by rehashing it over and over. It causes her pain, and I’m not okay with that.

I’ve been spending many nights with her. I can kid myself and say it’s because I feel better knowing she’s safe with me. It’s more than that. When we’re apart, my mind is with her. When we’re together, my mind is with her.

It’s fucking insane. I don’t understand how this happened.

In the past two weeks, one of the biggest monumental things that occurred was admitting to myself that I am in love with Ella. Admitted to myself, being the key words. I have yet to tell her. I have no idea why I’m holding back. Of course, she hasn’t admitted any profound feelings for me, either. But I can tell how she feels based on the way she looks at me, the way she smiles when she first sees me, and the sound of her voice when I make love to her. I think the most telltale sign is the way her lips part just as she’s about to come, the words
I love you
hanging on the tip of her tongue.

Some can argue I couldn’t possibly know that’s what she’s thinking. But I do. I know because I am thinking the same and fighting the urge to say the same words
.

Maybe I feel saying them at that moment lessens their meaning. Yet, every other time I try to, I can’t seem to get them past my lips. Not because I don’t truly know I am completely in love with her…more because I am scared that I am.

Rob has returned to Long Beach with Andrea. Ella and I joined them last weekend, enjoying the weather and the beach. Our trip to and from was so different than the first time we traveled together on the train. The awkwardness was replaced with an insatiable need.

We’ve fallen into a very comfortable relationship. We rarely fight. When we do, it’s usually because one of us is being stubborn, and the other is being pigheaded. She returned to the gym…that was a huge fight. But I realized I couldn’t hold her back or keep her from living because of my issues. My solution was to join her, as much as possible.

We work out side by side. She watches me spar with a male. I watch her with a female. She’s challenged me on several occasions, but it goes against my grain to engage with her in such a physical manner…notwithstanding the sexual kind of physical manner.

All in all, I’m very happy, and she is as well.

“You’re quiet,” she says softly. Her room is dark, the only light coming from a single candle that flickers on her dresser.

“Just thinking.”

She turns to lie across my chest. “What about?”

“You.” She smiles, knocking the wind from my lungs. I trace a finger across her soft lips. “You’re so beautiful.” Her smile turns into something else, a lack of confidence? Whatever it is, it upsets me. “You must know you are beautiful.”

“Stop that.” She simply cannot take a compliment. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“You really want to know?”

“No, I’d prefer you to lie to me.”

“That’s my line, you thief.” I flip us, so she’s beneath me.

She looks up teasingly. “You’re stalling, Mr. Stone.”

“I am?” She shoves me playfully. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I was thinking. Only if you promise to make love to me once I do.”

“Oh no. Is it that bad? Will I need to pull out my Taekwondo moves on you?”

“Don’t tease me, babe. The thought makes me want to fuck you, not make love to you.”

She tries to hide her grin but fails. “I’m still waiting. What were you thinking about?”

“About how much I love you.” That’s it, no build, no warning. I just blurt it out, and her eyes widen in shock.

“You do?”

“Completely.”

She wraps her fingers around my neck, pulling me lower to kiss me hard. When she pulls away, she simply says, “I love you, too.”

I smirk at her admittance. “You do, huh? Waiting for me to say it first?”

“Of course.” She kisses me again and again. “I’ve been waiting a while now. It sure took you long enough.”

“Too long. I think I started to fall in love with you the first night we were together. The first night we made love.” She watches as I nod confidently. “Actually, I know I did.”

“It was sooner for me.”

“It’s not a contest,” I admit, tickling her sides. She squirms and kicks beneath me.

“Ben, stop. Please.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you. I love you,” she says through giggles and heavy breaths. I stop my torment, and she becomes serious beneath me. “I love you.”

My response is to make love to her for hours.

She showers while I shave. It’s torture.

“This truly sucks,” I gripe, yet again.

“You sound like a broken record.” I slide the curtain aside, and she yelps from the slap I gift her ass.

“Move in with me.”

It’s a surprising request, yet it’s not. It feels right. I despise going home to my empty apartment on the nights we are apart. When I’m with her, my memories don’t surface like they do when I’m home alone. Those memories always plagued my thoughts. Since meeting and being with Ella, they’ve flooded my mind less and less. When I’m with her, my nightmares are non-existent. She admitted she’s happiest when I’m with her. We are both miserable apart. It makes absolute sense for us to move in together.

She turns her back, showing me her perfect ass...that now has a nice red mark on it from my hand. “It’s too soon. Besides, that won’t solve your issues. Your shower is as small as mine.”

“It’s not too soon. And I mean in a new place with a big ass shower that fits both of us, with plenty of room for me to bend you over and have my way with you.”

“You don’t need a shower to do that.” She slowly turns, antagonizing me by rubbing her hands over her breasts and down her torso. Her eyes watch mine watch her hands. She slips one soapy hand between her legs and says, “Can you shut the curtain?” She points down to her pebbled nipples and adds, “It’s getting cold in here.”

Before she knows what’s happening, I remove my briefs and have her turned around with her hands on the wall. With my hands on her hips, I pull her to the edge of the shower. While still standing outside of it, I thrust into her in one fast move.

“I’ll warm you,” I say through gritted teeth. Her soapy skin beneath my fingers feels like silk. Her pussy clenching around me feels like silk as well. The shower continues to pound a heated spray on her back. Water splashes around us, wetting the floor and anything else it reaches. Her fingers flex on the tile, and a moan escapes with each thrust until she calls out my name. Once she stills, one final jerk is all I need to empty myself inside her.

I spin her around and join her in the tiny space. She smiles up at me when she sees my expression. “Feel better, Superman?”

She has taken to calling me Superman for many obvious reasons. I shared the story of Rob and my nicknames at the precinct. She disagreed, saying Batman wasn’t a right fit for me, instead dubbing me Superman. I, in turn, nicknamed her Spidey. Partly because she shares a last name with Peter Parker, but mainly because of her Taekwondo skills. She hates it when I do.

“Much better.”

After a kiss, she says, “Okay, out. I love you, but I’m late.”

I sulk my way out of the shower, wrap a towel around my waist, and resume my shave. After a few minutes, she turns off the water and blindly reaches for a towel. Her hand lands on my arm.

“So, was that a yes?” I ask, holding the towel out for her to walk into. When she does, I wrap it and my arms around her, holding her tight.

“We’ll see.”

“You’re a tease, Spidey.”

“Don’t call me that.” She kisses me, drops the towel, and walks out of the bathroom completely naked. She smiles over her shoulder when I follow.

“You’re testing me. I’m not above handcuffing you to your bed.”

The look in her eyes sets me on fire. “Really? Can we do that sometime?”

“You’d want to?” She is constantly shocking me.

“Hell, yeah.” Submitting is not one of Ella’s strong points. The few times I’ve tried to dominate her, she fights me tooth and nail. The thought of her completely helpless against my intentions forces a pounding ache in my cock. Her nakedness pressed against me instigates it, spreading the heat from base to tip in a slow, torturous way. I reach over and grab her by the wrists, forcing them behind her back. She tilts her head, meeting my gaze with a challenge in her expression.