Read Now Or Never (Erotic Romance) Book 2 (The DeLuca Brothers) Online

Authors: Lucinda DuBois

Tags: #contemporary romance

Now Or Never (Erotic Romance) Book 2 (The DeLuca Brothers) (5 page)

Chapter 8

She felt Anthony
stroking her cheek as she came back to herself. The touch was light, gentle, in
stark contrast to his rough handling earlier. Her insides squirmed pleasurably
as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the soft
skin just under her earlobe.

“I would ask if
you enjoyed yourself,” Anthony said softly, “but I think I can take a scream
and then unconsciousness as a sign of a job well done.”

She could hear
the smug amusement in his voice and smiled as she snuggled back against him. He
wrapped his arms around her waist and that was when she realized that they were
lying on her couch, both still unclothed. She must not have been out that long
because she wasn't yet cold.

“So,” Anthony
continued. “Should we actually get dressed and go out, or do you want to just
head to the bedroom? Give me some more of that talented mouth of yours and I'll
be ready to go again in no time.”

She liked the
sound of that. Taking him in her mouth again. Slowly exploring every delicious
inch with her tongue. She wanted it. Wanted to feel him spill across her
tongue. Taste him as he spurted into her mouth. She wanted to feel his hands
running over every part of her body. They could take hours and worship each
other...

“I don't have to
go in until late in the morning, so I've got plenty of time. When's your shift
start?”

Cecile's eyes
flew open, her body going cold, as if doused by a bucket of cold water. Work.
Anthony was going back to work. She sat up, her stomach churning. She'd trusted
him without even thinking about it. How could she have been so stupid?

Anthony must've
seen the expression on her face because he sat up as well, his entire demeanor
shifting from flirtation to concern. “Cecile, are you okay?”

“You're not
going to change,” she whispered. She wasn't sure if she was talking to herself
or to Anthony, but it didn't matter. The outcome would be the same either way.

“Cecile?” He put
his hand on her shoulder.

She shook it
off, getting to her feet. She needed him to stop touching her. When he touched
her, she couldn't think straight. All she wanted was him to touch her more. She
snatched up her robe, suddenly feeling far more naked than she had before. She
turned her back on Anthony as she pulled on the garment.

“What's going
on?”

Cecile turned
towards Anthony but didn't look at him. She didn't trust herself. “I told you
that we couldn't be together.”

“Then what was
all this?” Anthony's tone was hurt, but Cecile could hear the edge of anger to
it.

She took a deep
breath. The least she could do is have the guts to look him in the face when
she said it. “This was a mistake.”

“A mistake.” The
words came out flat. “I found you because I wanted to be with you and I thought
you wanted to be with me too.”

“I do.” She
forced herself to admit it. She crossed her arms, as if she could hold herself
together through sheer willpower. “I thought this would make a difference. That
either we'd both realize that we were imagining this connection or you'd...”
Her voice trailed off.

“Or I'd what?”

There was an
edge to Anthony's voice that made the knot in Cecile's stomach tighten.

“Or I'd quit my
job, right?” He yanked on his pants. “Make everything nice and neat for you,
wouldn't it? Give yourself a little pat on the back because you get a big bad
gangster off of the streets and then you can tell yourself that you reformed me
so you don't have to be ashamed of who I am. You don't know why I do what I do.
All you can see is your perfect little world and how I don't fit into it.”

“You think it's
about being ashamed of you?” Cecile's temper flared and she pushed back the
small part of her that reminded her that she actually was a little concerned
with what people would think. That wasn't the point. “You hurt people,
Anthony.”

“So do you,” he
snapped as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Or are you telling me you've
never used that gun on anyone? Never arrested some kid in front of his crying
mother? Taken a parent away from a screaming child? There's a whole lot of shit
in this world, Cecile, so don't tell me that you don't give your fair share.”

“I uphold the
law.” She fought to keep her voice even. The last thing she wanted was her
neighbors calling the cops, but she was going to have her say. “It's not
perfect and I know that, but it's what we've got. And you know what, I have
arrested some punk kid who busted windows out of half a dozen cars, and his
mother cried and cursed me to hell. But, I was also there in court to tell the
judge that I thought the kid could be rehabilitated. As for that father I
arrested in front of his screaming daughter, he'd spent the last six months
beating the shit out of her and her mother. There may be mistakes made, but the
good I do far outweighs any unintentional bad.”

“Whatever you
have to tell yourself so you can sleep at night.” Anthony stalked towards the
door.

“I sleep just
fine. Why don't you give your own life a once-over and tell me if you can say
the same.” Cecile followed him.

He yanked open
the door, pausing to deliver one last remark. “You may sleep just fine, but you
also sleep alone. Think about that when you're congratulating yourself on a job
well done.”

He slammed the
door shut behind him and Cecile slowly sank to the floor. Her hands were
shaking and she wasn't sure if it was because of what Anthony had said or
because, despite all of it, there was a part of her screaming to go after him,
and to hell with the consequences.

Chapter 9

Six days. It had
been six days since Anthony had walked out of her apartment, and it wasn't
getting any easier. Cecile had done her break-up ritual of ice cream and beer.
She'd cried herself to sleep that night, and then woken up with the intention
to throw herself into work. At work, she'd asked for paperwork to do while the
captain decided on her assignment, forcing herself to read and re-read every
line to make sure everything was perfect. Staying busy had almost worked the
first day, and then the captain asked her to proofread a report on Tommy
DeLuca, one of Anthony's cousins who'd married in to another of the city's
crime families. After that, with every new sheet she picked up, she'd braced
herself until she read the name.

When she'd
gotten the go-ahead to start an undercover assignment, complete with a new
shift, she'd been relieved. Nothing like a complete change in sleeping habits,
accompanied by having to pay attention to surroundings, to prevent stray
thoughts from popping up. Stray thoughts like a pair of dark eyes that nearly
glowed black when filled with desire, or the scent of spicy aftershave.

She'd taken the
good-natured ribbing from her co-workers when she'd emerged from the locker
room in her hooker heels, short skirt and tight top, but hadn't been able to
muster any real enthusiasm even though she'd been dreaming about going
undercover for the NYPD since she was a little girl. Even Fredericks' leers
couldn't elicit more than a lukewarm response.

All week, she'd
put in extra hours, including picking up someone else's shift to avoid her
first day off. Now, however, she had to go home and she wasn't looking forward
to it. As she changed out of her 'hooker-wear,' she went over every minute detail
of the night's arrests. She told herself it was to make sure she was prepared
if she had to testify or if any of her reports were questioned, but she knew
that they'd all been open and shut cases. The real reason for her obsessing was
there in the back of her mind, hovering as it always did, just waiting for the
slightest crack so it could push its way forward.

As she headed
back to her apartment, she couldn't help but be frustrated at herself. This was
what she'd always wanted and she should be happy. She was living in New York
City, away from the bickering and drama of her family who saw her living in
Ohio as taking sides. She was working undercover in Vice and should be able to
graduate from prostitute to druggie in no time. If Lieutenant Day was impressed
with her work, she might even get a transfer to Missing Persons within a year
or so. He had connections. The people she worked with were great, even if
Fredericks could be a bit of an ass-hat, when it came down to it, he was as
loyal as they came.

There were the
downsides, of course. Working the streets in barely-there clothes when the
temperature was dropping was far from fun, and she found it difficult to
restrain from breaking fingers when her 'customers' got overly friendly before
she could get them to her team for the arrest. Her feet ached from the heels
she wasn't used to wearing and it took at least an hour in a scalding shower
before she felt even remotely clean again.

Cecile knew,
though, that none of these things would have bothered her very much if there
hadn't been this whole thing with Anthony. She hated that just a few days with
him had made her so weak. She'd never been the type of girl who moped after
break-ups. Usually there was just a night of comfort food and pajamas, maybe
two if she had a day off after, but it had never been more than that. She'd
always prided herself, in fact, that she wasn't like a lot of the women she'd
grown up with where their priorities were always finding and keeping a man, no
matter what they said. Her career had always been number one, the place where
she'd found purpose and joy. Now, it all seemed pale and dull and she hated
that he could make her feel that way.

She began
undressing as soon as she closed the door behind her, leaving her clothes
wherever they happened to fall. She knew she should eat something, but she
hadn't had much of an appetite lately. She told herself that it was because of
the shift change, that her body still wasn't used to being up all night and
sleeping during the day, but she knew it was a lie.

After showering,
she forced herself to eat a cereal bar and then curled up in her bed. She
didn't cry, hadn't cried since that first night, but she didn't do anything
else either. As she pulled the blankets tighter around her, she squeezed her
eyes shut and tried not to think about anything.

Her phone woke
her up a few hours later and she couldn't stop the stab of hope that went
through her even as she scolded herself for even considering that it was
Anthony calling. It had been a week. If he hadn't called her already, he wasn't
going to.

Still, she
couldn't help but be disappointed when she saw that it wasn't Anthony.
“Morgan?”

“Sorry, C. Did I
catch you at a bad time?” Cecile's former partner sounded concerned. Morgan
Collins was almost two decades older than Cecile, so theirs was more of a
teacher-student relationship than true friends, but he'd always been there when
she'd needed him.

“No, just on a
night shift. Working vice.”

“Ah,” Morgan
said. “You're the hooker bait.”

“The shoes are
going to be the death of me.” She tried joking, but she could hear the flat
note.

“Are you okay?”

Cecile rubbed
her hand over her eyes and stifled a sigh. If she had a problem with a case,
Morgan would be the first person she'd go to, but relationship advice, that was
another story. Especially when she could imagine the disappointment in his
voice when he heard she was pining over an enforcer from a local crime family.
“I'm fine, Morgan. Just some personal shit. What's up?”

“I just wanted
to let you know that we got break on the Espinoza case and it looks like you
were right.”

Cecile sat
straight up, all thoughts of Anthony and her problems disappearing. “Weathers
took her.”

Every cop had a
case that haunted them and the disappearance of thirteen year-old Elena Espinoza
was Cecile's. She'd only been on the force for a couple of weeks, doing routine
patrols with Morgan, when they'd nearly run over Mrs. Espinoza in the middle of
the street. The woman was frantic, saying that her daughter had gone missing.
Cecile had followed the case diligently, even taking coffee to the detectives
working it so that she could get the inside track. When, just a few days later,
the disappearance was deemed a runaway and attention shifted to other cases,
Cecile had done her own investigating. She'd been convinced that a family
friend named Jake Weathers had been involved somehow, but she'd never been able
to prove it.

“I've been going
after Brown and Kiles to take a look at what you found, but they hadn't
bothered until two days ago when a suspect in a completely unrelated case said
something in passing about his girlfriend's cousin drunkenly bragging about how
the cops were too stupid to find out where he'd stashed some missing girl
because he'd used a former girlfriend's name on the lease. Brown and Kiles have
been going over all of your notes, getting all of the names of Weathers' exes
and checking them against property records.”

“Did they arrest
him?” Cecile stood up and began to pace.

“Not yet.
They're getting a warrant to search his place this morning. They should have
the property search results this evening. I just thought you'd want to know.”

“I did. Thank
you.”

“I need to go,
but I'll keep you updated.”

“Thank you,”
Cecile repeated.

“You know, C, it
really is too bad you're not here for this. If you hadn't talked to all of
those people about Weathers back then and gotten the names of his exes, this
case might've run cold again.”

Cecile sat on
the edge of her bed. Nearly five years, and there was finally a break in the
case. It was almost too good to be true. She wished she could be there to see
the look on that arrogant SOB's face when they took him in. She could almost
imagine the energy in the department, the pride on Morgan's face when it was
her hard work that took down Weathers. As much as it was her dream to work
here, she did miss Morgan. And it would've been great to be involved in the
trial, get to give testimony that helped lock that bastard away.

Why couldn't
she?

The idea popped
into her head so suddenly that she wasn't sure where it had come from. Why
couldn't she be there for all of that? If she requested a transfer back to her
old city, she could finish out the case. She could make a name for herself
there. Did it really matter if she arrested people here or there? It wasn't
like she'd be coming home because she'd failed, it would be an honest transfer.
She wanted to see this case through and she might be able to get promoted
faster. It was a smart decision for her career.

It had
absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she couldn't even be in her own
apartment without thinking about Anthony.

Nothing at all.

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