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Once, before Giovanni had taken the mantle of leadership.
Once, before his son Beauregard had turned his nose up at the legacy that he had been honor bound to claim.
The bastard.
A fist clenched, the jaw tightened, and the familiar rage began to burn like a wildfire within a chest that had been ripped open, the very heart extracted so long ago.
No, Nick Casey was no Beauregard.
That suspicion had been there before Sheila had left the bar the night Ross Mason had followed her.
It was the reason only Ross had been following at first.
Realizing there was trouble following Miss Rutledge hadn’t been easy. Diverting suspicion had been even harder.
Casey had nearly caught sight of the shadowed figure moving through the darkness to take the pictures needed.
The one of Ross Mason pointing that gun at the girl’s head just seconds after firing into the car and causing the wreck would be a haunting memory.
But it was over now. The authorities had the pictures that proved Ross had been behind the assault on the woman Nick Casey now guarded so diligently.
Not that she seemed to mind. There was a smile on her face that hadn’t been there before, and a joy and youth to her that would stay with her for many years to come. Because the man she loved, the man who loved her, refused to let her out of his sight.
Just as Ethan Cooper loved his Sarah, Nick Casey loved his Sheila.
That left three: Jake Murphy, Iron Donovan, and Turk Rogan.
A weary sigh filled the inside of the truck that held the eyes of the past. A tired, disillusioned sigh. It wasn’t over yet. Not yet.
And there could be no peace until it was.
chapter 14
there was a heat surrounding him that Casey knew he would never escape. One he never wanted to escape.
As he lay with the woman he loved more than life itself and pulled his lips from the kiss that was pulling him headlong into a complete meltdown, he realized how he was looking forward to that final surrender to her.
Until then— He looked down at her kiss-swollen lips, the drowsy sensuality in her gaze and her flushed cheeks, and he reminded himself that getting there was just as heated, just as incredible.
Beneath him, Sheila arched closer, her lithe, naked body twisting as the blunt, heavily engorged head of his dick prodded at the swollen lips of her pussy.
Slick silk. Damn, that was what her bare, satiny pussy felt like. Like the softest, hottest syrup saturating a silk so pure and fine it could only be made in paradise.
“Casey, please,” she whispered as his lips descended to her breasts. “Oh yes, lick my nipples.” She arched closer yet, whimpering as his lips closed over them and he let her feel a hint of his teeth. “Suck them,” she moaned. “Suck my nipples. Make me come.”
Taking one of the hardened tips between his lips, Casey sucked it hungrily, the taste of her, the passion that flowed from her, making him desperate for more as her fingers fisted in his hair to hold him closer.
That slick, wet silk surrounding the head of his cock, his hips moving as he ate at the tender tip of her nipple. Slowly, with precise gentleness, he began working his cock inside her, feeling the snug muscle and tissue as it parted beneath each slow, easy thrust.
Oh God. It was like being buried, like being wrapped in pure, wild heat. Her juices eased between her flesh and his, another caress that made him ready to growl with pleasure. To snarl with the demand to come.
He’d be damned if he would let himself go that easily. If he would allow Sheila to go that easily.
He didn’t want to leave the hot, milking grasp of her pussy until he had no other choice. Pushing inside the liquid heat, slowly, working his cock inside the tender portal, he had to clench his teeth to keep from riding her hard and heavy and spilling his seed inside her.
His balls were drawn tight beneath the iron-hard shaft, his muscles locked tight against the ecstasy threatening to claim him.
With his dick encased inside her, his tongue playing erotic games with her nipples, Casey knew his control wouldn’t last much longer.
