Torn (Lords of the City #1) (62 page)

“So who owns the team? You?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Victor still owns it at the moment. But he’s been stripped of all control and he’ll be forced to sell the team. Mark is in control, temporarily. And he just offered to reinstate my contract, effective immediately.”

“Is he going to let you play next Sunday?” I asked, my voice dancing with excitement. The Stallions had managed to win their last two playoff games without Ethan, and they’d qualified to play in the Super Bowl. Ethan had been happy for his old teammates, but I knew it killed him not to be able to join in their victory.

“Yep. He doesn’t think my replacement can stand up to Philadelphia.”

“This is wonderful. But what about your probation?” I asked. I didn’t want to put a damper on Ethan’s joy, but I also didn’t want to see him get his hopes up, only to be crushed later on.

“Mark has already spoken with my parole officer. I have permission to travel with the team.” He raised a hand for a high five.

I breathed a sigh of relief and smacked his palm. “This is really happening? Everything’s really working out?”

“It’s really happening,” he agreed. “We’re free, Emily. Victor’s going to prison for a very long time. He can’t hurt us anymore. We’re free to be together, to do the work we love, and we don’t have to look over our shoulder wondering what’s going to happen next. This couldn’t have worked out any better.”

“I think a celebration is in order,” I announced. I refilled our wine glasses and passed one to Ethan before lifting mine in a toast. “To our freedom.”

“Damn right,” Ethan agreed. He lifted his glass to his lips. I set mine down on the bar cart and boldly stripped out of my clothes, holding his gaze.

“I like the way you celebrate,” he told me with a grin.

I sat down on the chaise and beckoned for him to join me. When he reached the chair, I grabbed him by the hips.

“I’m so proud of you,” I told him, staring up into his blissful blue eyes. I unfastened the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. Ethan smiled down at me and tugged his pants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock was eye level and I dove for it, stroking his shaft as I ran my tongue across the head. Ethan groaned and ran his fingers through my hair as I took him deeper into my throat.

“Oh God, Emily,” he groaned.

I pulled away and stroked him firmly with both hands. “You like that, baby?” I purred.

“Yes,” he gasped as I took him into my mouth again.

I stroked his shaft with one hand and teased his balls with the other, all the while swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.

“I don’t want to come yet,” he growled. He took me by the shoulders and gently pushed me onto my back. I scooted backwards on the chaise with Ethan following on all fours. I propped myself up and Ethan buried his face between my legs. He licked and sucked my clit before pushing his tongue inside me. He stroked my clit with two slick fingers, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” he asked, replacing his tongue with his fingers. He found my G-spot and pressed it firmly as he lashed my clit with his tongue.

“Yes,” I cried out. “Oh God, Ethan… yes.”

He increased the pressure of his mouth, lashing and sucking my clit as his fingers worked their magic. I let out an instinctive growl and tugged Ethan’s hair as I came with a gush. Ethan crawled on top of me and cradled my face, kissing me tenderly as he slowly pushed inside me. I was still riding the waves of my first release, and the throbs of Ethan’s cock sent me directly into my second. I dug my fingernails into his back and held tight as he slowed his body.

“Do you need a minute?” he said into my ear and I felt the strain in his words.

“No,” I insisted, rocking against him. “I don’t want it to stop. Don’t let it stop,” I begged.

Ethan lowered his head and ran his lips across my neck as he drove in and out of me. Maybe it was the way he moved, or maybe it was the relief of finally being free from Victor. It was probably a combination. But the sex Ethan and I had that night was unlike anything I’d experienced before or since. We moved together perfectly, as if we’d truly become one person. I’d had multiple orgasms before, but this was different. Waves of ecstasy washed over me like the tides, ebbing just long enough for me to catch my breath before overwhelming me again. My body clenched and curled, and Ethan seemed to grow longer and harder with every thrust. When he spasmed and filled me, I finally understood what it meant to feel the earth move.

Ethan collapsed by my side and pulled me into his arms. I curled around him, my muscles still uncontrollably clenched.

“That was incredible, baby,” he said, still struggling for breath.

“Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I corrected him. “You may have to move me to bed later. I’m not sure my legs will ever work again.”

Ethan laughed and sat up. He massaged my thigh and a look of shock crossed his face. “You weren’t kidding. Your legs feel like rocks. Are you okay?”

I smiled and ran a finger through his damp hair. “I’ve never been better.”

***

“How’s Ethan holding up?” Uncle Walt asked. “I’m glad his name has been cleared. But I don’t imagine all of the press his parents are getting has been easy.”

“It’s been rough,” I agreed. “But I don’t think the news stories are bothering him as much as the calls from his mother. All of the Montez’s bank accounts have been frozen. Marsha expects Ethan to help her leave the country before she’s indicted.”

“That woman has some nerve,” Walt said, gritting his teeth. He took a long sip of his chai and stared out the café window. Ethan was at practice and Claudia had been called into the ER, so my uncle and I were having an impromptu early dinner.

News of Victor’s arrest spread like wildfire. Several twenty-four-hour news stations had already done hour long specials on the story, recounting all of the past crimes Victor had been suspected of but never charged for. Pundits were in agreement that Marsha Montez was just as guilty as her husband. The FBI had taken control of the investigation, and they were much more closed lipped than the local PD. Ethan and I didn’t know for sure if Marsha was being investigated. But by her frantic voicemails, it was clear she expected to be arrested at any moment.

“She really does,” I agreed. “I spoke to Dickson yesterday. So far, they haven’t been able to ID the female suspect. She’s much shorter than the man and she was wearing a ball cap in the surveillance video, so they weren’t able to get a clear picture of her face. But the Dallas PD thinks they’re closing in on Rhoads.”

“I know you really want to see Marsha pay for what she did to your student. Personally, I’ll be happy just to see her locked up and out of your life. If the feds take her down before Dickson, so be it.”

Our waitress arrived at the table with our food. She set a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in front of me. Walt opted for pastrami on rye and fries.

“Would either of you like another drink from the coffee bar?” she asked.

We both shook our heads. “No, thank you,” Walt replied.

She refilled our water glasses and moved on to another table. I dunked the corner of one of my sandwich halves into my soup and waited for the toasty bread to soak it in.

“I agree that putting Marsha somewhere she can’t hurt anyone is best for everyone. And ultimately, I don’t care how or why it happens. I just want the Hollis case solved for the sake of the family. They went through hell and they deserve to understand why. However demented the motives were.”

“That’s understandable. How close do the Dallas boys think they are to bringing Rhoads in?” he asked, popping a ketchup-drenched fry into his mouth.

“They’re pretty sure he’s working under the table at a mechanic’s shop in North Dallas. They haven’t pinned down his schedule yet and they don’t have enough manpower to keep a stakeout team nearby. But they’re driving by a few times a day, looking for signs of him.”

“If manpower is a problem, we’ll hire someone,” Walt insisted. “Or I’ll fly down to Dallas and stake the place out myself.”

I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips at the image of Uncle Walt with binoculars glued to his face. “Ethan suggested hiring a PI, but Dickson said it wasn’t a good idea. He said it’s critical that this case is handled by the book. Ethan promised to hold off on the idea for a few more days.”

“Well, if there’s nothing we can do about it for the moment, let’s change the subject,” Walt suggested. “I can hardly remember the last time we talked about something other than police investigations and criminal charges. Let’s talk about something normal, something happy.”

“Ethan and I set a date,” I told him with a grin. “We’re getting married on June eleventh at the Portland Botanical Garden.”

Walt let out an impressed whistle. “Wow. That will be beautiful, Emily. Does this mean you’re going with the big, extravagant wedding Ethan wanted?”

When Ethan and I started planning our wedding, I was shocked to hear some of his ideas. His guest list looked like a who’s who of the most influential people in sports, and he suggested we hire the recent Best New Artist recipient to perform at the reception, which he expected to last two days. I’d immediately reined him in, reminding him that the day was supposed to be about us and our future. I wasn’t interested in throwing the Wedding of the Century. I wanted to celebrate becoming his wife with the people who actually mattered to us.

“Sort of… we compromised. Ethan has a lot of friends on the team, and I understand why he doesn’t want to leave any of the other Stallions out. So he cut the list to the team and other friends. It’s still going to be five times bigger than I pictured, but Ethan gave up on the two days after party idea.”

“I have news on the wedding front as well,” Walt shared. “Claudia and I want to keep things as stress-free and fun as possible. We’re older, and neither of us is interested in having a big formal affair. We’ve decided to get married in Vegas.”

“That’s perfect,” I agreed with a smile. “In fact, I’m jealous.”

“Well, we’re planning to do it over your spring break, so you and Ethan can come with us. Maybe you can talk him into it while we’re there.”

“I can’t wait. But I’m not sure Ethan’s parole officer will give him permission to fly to Vegas. Which is a shame, because I’d honestly love nothing more than a quickie elopement.”

I spooned another bite of hot soup into my mouth and my phone started chiming from my purse.

“That’s Frank’s ringtone,” I announced. I retrieved the phone and answered it on speaker.

“Hey, Frank. You’re on speakerphone. Walt and I are having an early dinner.”

“Walt, you were my next call. I just got off of the phone with Dickson. The Dallas PD picked Rhoads up outside his place of employment early this morning. He postured for a few hours and insisted they had the wrong man. But it didn’t take them long to break him. He gave a full confession. Dickson’s willing to talk us through it if we want to drop by the station. He’ll be there late processing Rhoads’ extradition paperwork.”

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Did he tell them Marsha was involved?”

“I don’t know any details, Emily. Dickson didn’t want to get into specifics over the phone.”

“How far are you from the station?” Walt asked him.

“I could be there in twenty minutes.”

“Emily and I are a little farther out. Meet you there in half an hour?”

“Sounds good to me,” Frank agreed.

The line went dead and Walt met my eyes with a wide smile. “It’s finally over, kiddo. The Hollis family will have their closure and you and Ethan will be safe from his monstrous mother.”

“Ethan… I have to call Ethan. He’s still at practice, but I should probably leave him a message.”

I was surprised when Ethan answered his phone on the first ring. “I was just about to call you.”

“I’m with Uncle Walt. Frank called and—”

“Asked you to get to the police station,” he finished. “I know, I’m already here. Detective Dickson called me out of practice about an hour ago.” Ethan sounded defeated, and panic rose in my chest.

Not again. This is supposed to be the end of the nightmare. I swear to God, if Marsha has framed him for something else…

“How bad is it, Ethan?”

“It’s not bad… it’s surprising. We were way off track, Em. It’s over now, but we were way off track.”

Ethan was silent for a moment and I heard Dickson’s muffled voice in the background.

“I need to go, but I’ll explain everything when you get here,” Ethan promised.

Walt paid our bill and ushered me out of the café as I spoke. “You’re making me nervous, Ethan. You sound upset.”

“I am upset, Emily,” he agreed. “But everything will be okay, and that’s all that matters. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

Walt opened the passenger door of his car and I dropped my phone back into my purse as I buckled my seatbelt and he took his place behind the steering wheel. He peeled out into traffic and got us to the station in record time. We found Ethan and Detective Dickson in the same room we’d met in for our last round of questioning. I took a little comfort knowing that this time, Dickson was the one responsible for giving answers.

“Hey, baby.” Ethan rose from his chair and gave me a half hug, extending his other arm to shake Walt’s hand.

“Walt, I’m glad you’re here. The fewer times I have to tell this story, the better,” Ethan said, cringing with dread.

Walt took a seat at the head of the table while I settled in beside Ethan. Before Detective Dickson could begin his explanation, Frank stepped through the door.

“Perfect,” Dickson announced as Frank sat down. “Everyone’s here. As you all know, Kelvin Rhoads was arrested in Dallas early this morning. After a few hours in custody, he broke and gave a full confession. He admitted to breaking into Emily’s classroom and tampering with the snacks. He also gave up his boss.”

“Marsha?” I asked.

Detective shook his head and looked to Ethan. Ethan took my hand and turned to me with sad, guilt-ridden eyes. “The woman Ben met outside the gym… she was Susannah Cross.”