Arwen was lying in her bed scrolling through a patient’s file when her phone rang on her nightstand. She lifted it up and couldn’t help the smile pulling on her lips. Why was she strangely gravitating towards a man whose father she’d murdered? It was the antithesis of sane and she knew it.
She debated her behaviour and then came to the conclusion; she was driven by her uterus and her exaggerated sense of lust because he had rescued those girls. “You know he’s tough as they come but he still helped a bunch of women including you and its hot,” she mocked herself as she answered the phone.
“Mr. Cavallaro, why are you calling my phone so late at night?”
“Late? It’s only ten.”
“You mean one?” She reminded him of the time zone difference, even though she was certain he hadn’t forgotten.
“Were you asleep?” he asked laughing at her correction.
“No. I’m actually going through a patient’s chart. Stupid old man keeps calling me to complain he’s not getting better and then expects me to fly back to Toronto to give him a new plan. It’s clear he’s not doing his program unless I’m standing over him cracking the whip.”
“You would fly to another city for a patient?”
“Yes, it’s where I had to go last week. I was in Toronto. The guy is a retired NHL hockey player with a bad back. He thinks my job is to provide a form of magical exercise to cure all his ailments.”
“You were in Toronto last week?” his voice betrayed his surprise.
“Yes,” she wondered where he thought she had been. Surely, he hadn’t thought she’d been in Sicily. “It’s why I didn’t see my flowers you sent.”
“Ah, I thought perhaps you had gone to a warmer climate.” His voice was smooth. “You had a kiss of sun to your cheeks when I saw you.”
“The weather in Toronto was sunny and warm. There’s a park two blocks from the hotel I usually stay in, and I do the yoga in the park and run there.” She explained as if she weren’t lying through her teeth. Her double had done yoga in the park and had run several times while she’d been there wearing sunglasses, a ballcap and even a fake version of Arwen’s tattoo on her shoulder. “How is Vegas?”
“The feds are staying in my hotel,” he said with a chuckle, “and they are unhappy about it.”
“They are unhappy, or you are unhappy.”
“I’m thrilled,” his voice held curious merriment. “My casino is a completely legitimate business. I pay all of my taxes down to the penny. All of my employees are on salary and get health and dental benefits. The lead investigator has been after my grandfather for years. He inherited the case from his mentor who hated the old man. It is fun to be able to shove another’s biases in their face. I may be f*****g with him just a bit.”
“You sound like you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I am. The only thing better than sticking it to the lead agent, is pointing out to the auditor he missed something and making him redo his calculations.”
“You did not.”
“I did too,” he laughed darkly. “I think he assumed because I don’t wear thick-rimmed glasses and I have a reputation of being a bit tough, I was more muscle than brain. It’s fun to prove an arrogant prick wrong.”
“Incorrigible.” She gave a low laugh.
“Perhaps,” he said accepting her comment. “Tell me Arwen, what are wearing?”
She looked down and wondered if she should be honest. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Cavallaro?”
“I am. I’m hoping to engage in a bit of phone s*x. Want to play along? You should send me a photo of your sexiest feature.”
She laughed at his directness. She held her phone up and took a selfie of her foot and sent it to him.
“What is this?” he laughed into her ear, a hot husky reverberation in her eardrum.
“My foot. According to the girls, men pay loads of money for foot fetish pics. I could probably make a mint with my big feet.”
His shout of laughter made her feel warm inside.
“Tease.”
“Perhaps but I’ve never sent a nude to anyone and not sure I’m going to start today.” She said with a smirk.
“How unfortunate. I don’t see socks. Are you naked?”
“You jumped to naked from a bare foot?”
“Wishful thinking. Well, are you?”
“As the day I was born,” she admitted without reservation. “I had a long hot shower when I got home. We spent time with Portia and the new baby this evening and it made me appreciate the freedom I have to take long showers without someone banging on the door to hurry up. I remembered what it was like to have to hurry to do the basics because a child was waiting. I relished my time alone in the bathroom.”
“How is my cousin’s spawn?”
She laughed, “he’s adorable. Babies always are, even boys. It’s when they get bigger, they become a problem.”
“Are we grown boys such a problem for you?”
“You saw the one who was on my doorstep this week. Definitely problematic.”
“Don’t cut us all from the same cloth.” He warned with a hint of censure to his words, “I don’t like paying for another man’s sins.”
“Let’s say my experience in the dating field leaves much to be desired in terms of establishing glowing recommendations for your gender.” She responded with equal warning to her tone, “most men can’t handle a woman like me and thus far even the ones I think might be able to have proven me wrong.”
“What exactly is a woman like you?” He veered the topic of conversation.
“Strong. Independent. Driven. Ambitious. I know what I want, and I usually go for it. I run my own business and as a woman building a hell of a reputation as a doctor in sports injury physiotherapy, it means I travel for my clients. But aside from all of this, my family comes first, and I don’t tolerate anyone trying to come between us. The first sign a man gives me they feel my family is a problem, I walk. If I’m making time to be with a man and they have such little regard for the amount of time they can steal from my responsibilities and obligations, it becomes their problem not mine.”
“You’re saying if I asked you to drop everything to come spend a weekend with me on my Island in the Caribbean you would decline?”
“I don’t just drop everything for anyone,” she made no apology. “If I’m willing to do it for a lover, they’d have to be pretty damn special and thus far, I’ve yet to create a relationship with a man I’m willing to do it for. For now, I like to be home to collect my chicken eggs in the mornings, thank you very much.”
“Do you really have chickens?”
“Yes, and we really want a goat,” she gave a giggle at his snort, “and maybe a sheep.”
“What the hell for?” he was clearly disgusted by her words.
“We grew up on a farm in Virginia, not far from Norfolk. Times were simpler then, but they were good.”
“How did you end up in New York?”
“Better pediatric medical care for the types of injuries Dee had,” she stared at her ceiling. “After the house explosion there wasn’t much to return to there, and I kept getting roadblocked by the staff in the hospital we were at. They wanted to make her a ward of the state. I got a lawyer who was really good and took us pro bono. We had life insurance policies which allowed us to relocate and for me to get her the best care available. The lawyer put me in touch with the women’s shelter and I met Clara Draxton who made me and Dee a pet project and I’m grateful for her every single day. Jesse and Cat were also hanging around there the same time as me. We were all pretty close to the same age and gravitated to each other. Jesse and Cat grew closer because they had more freedom than I did back then. As Dee has gotten older, I’ve been able to do a bit more.” She realized she was rambling, and he was incredibly quiet. “Still there?”
“Yes, I hadn’t realized you had been part of the women she knew from the shelter,” he said quietly.
“I still volunteer there frequently. It’s where I met Fabiana. It wasn’t long after I first went there, I met Isabella Ruiz. Her mother and Fabiana then became a force to be reckoned with where me and Dee were concerned. I was going through school, working on my masters, when she had to go for an emergency surgery due to infection in her femur. Those two women had a constant flow of help for me at the hospital and at home. They just kept saying it takes a village and I was part of their village,” she whispered into the phone. “They’re my family. If one of them asked me to go them now, I’d be gone.”
“Fabiana is a good woman. My family did not do well by her.”
“I know what happened because Jesse told me.”
“What my uncle did to her, and my cousins is unconscionable.”
She stated bluntly. “Jesse is probably the bravest person I’ve ever encountered. Definitely one of the smartest and she has a way of making people relax around her, which is truly a gift.” She paused, “or maybe it’s genetic because I’m talking far more with you tonight than I do most people.”
“You’re right. Jesse is special, and I would do anything to keep her safe. As for the gift of making people comfortable, I don’t know how accurate your hypothesis is. I find most people fear me more than confide in me. Perhaps it’s terror which makes you so verbose.”
“You’re not scary, Mr. Cavallaro.” She chuckled at his words.
“You don’t think? Then that is a good thing. It means you don’t read tabloid trash.”
“Oh, I’ve read it all, but I’m still not frightened. I had two women in my clinic this morning for physio.”
He was silent at her words.
“I told you before, Jesse trusts me. She sent them to me for a purpose,” she spoke again, “she trusts me far more than she trusts most people, including you.”
“When we were in Sicily for my grandfather’s funeral, she told my father the only explanation for him being alive was because he fell under the protection of her Famiglia. I do not know the extent of her associations, but I admit,” he gave a snort, “she has more cohones than many of the men in our family.”
She gave a low laugh, “I would die for her without a second thought.”
“Would you kill for her?”
She knew his question was pointed and she made a face willing herself to keep her tone neutral, “Mr. Cavallaro, killing a person is a crime and as you said, you have the feds in your hotel.”
“I didn’t ask if you have killed for her, only would you.” He didn’t give up.
“There would have to be a damn good reason for me to use my hunting rifle for anything other than a deer or rabbit but if Jesse were the one providing me said reason, then yes, I would. I love her like a sister.”
“When you were here a few weekends ago, she mentioned you were fixated on burying people up to their necks in the desert.” He pushed.
Was he trying to get her to admit she hurt people? No can do, she thought wryly.
“Yes, but she meant Trace. I had only ended things a couple of weeks before and was still pissed off. I had said before we flew, it would be a good time to hide him in the cargo hold of Cam Torres’ jet and then bury him in the desert. I may or may not have been quite descriptive of how I wanted to dump fire ants on him while he was still alive but buried.”
“You should write screenplays for horror movies,” he gave a low laugh.
“And have people know how depraved my mind is? No thanks. For the most part I keep those things to myself. I’ll let Dee be the writer in the family, thanks.”
“I think I would very much like to uncover the depravity of your mind. Does it veer only to violence, or can you be wicked in other ways?”
“You mean s*x?” she asked grinning at he inhaled sharply at her brusqueness. “Trace wasn’t chasing me down in my own yard even knowing I could shoot him in the ass from another state over because I’m sweet and innocent.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s not because I can cook and clean.”
“No?” his voice was breathy as he waited her to explain.
“Nope. In addition to being a boxer and a black belt, for twelve years I practiced gymnastics. I’ve learned being flexible has its merits. I’m bendy as hell.”
“How bendy?” his voice had suddenly gotten lower, almost growly.
Arwen smirked as she toyed with him. “Well, have you ever been to a cirque de soleil show? I can touch my toes to the back of my head. I also don’t mind hanging upside down for long periods of time, say in swing or tied up on an inversion table – “she stopped speaking at his curse.
“Are you telling me you let that giant moron tie you to a s*x table?”
“Do you want me to tell you all of my past s****l experiences already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.” She knew she was deliberately provoking him but after spilling so much personal info she was feeling the need to be back on the offensive. “There was this one thing I let him do where I was suspended upside down from a swing.”
“Enough.” His voice had gotten icy cold. “Not another word Arwen or you’ll have my hand on your arse.”
“I’m not into physical violence. I have lots of other kinks but,” she giggled, “aw who am I kidding, I love a good spanking. I once did a stint in a b**m house and let a guy flog me for hours. I’m sure I came a hundred times.”
She looked at the phone when his silence was extended and noted he’d hung up. Arwen chuckled as she considered she’d shocked him She sighed and noted her laptop was still open on her bed. She closed it up and then moved to put it on her nightstand. Preparing for bed she started to set her phone on top of it but then giggled naughtily as she decided to poke the bear.
She raced from her bed with the phone in hand and moved to her walk-in closet. She pushed a secret panel only she and the installer knew about and revealed a pair of shallow drawers. She opened the drawer, took a photo of her array of cuffs, restraints, whips, and paddles in her hidden carrying case, and then sent the photo to Adrianu. She made sure to close the drawers with a firm snap and then shut the light out in her closet before jumping back into bed.
She sent a text with the photo, “just a girl with her toys.”
None of her girlfriends knew of her desire to be a submissive to a dominant man. She and Clara Draxton had lightly danced around it and since Jesse found out she liked being bitten, there had been a bit more conversation, but her kinks and needs were hers and hers alone. Well, apart from Psych-One. The woman knew everything about everyone. She was the one who impressed upon her any activity she engaged in was her right to do.
She waited impatiently for a response from Adrianu to her photo and was disappointed when none came. Arwen waited ten more minutes for him to return to their conversation, but it appeared he had well and truly ended the call. Maybe she’d gone too far. She had guessed from his posturing and the way he carried himself, by nature he was a dominant man in a relationship. Perhaps she had misread him. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last.
Now as she lay there, she realized she was worked up. She closed her eyes and wondered what he would do to her with the items in her private stash of playthings. She moaned in frustration as he failed to respond to her text message. She had been hoping for more flirtation and instead he was giving her radio silence.
She acknowledged she didn’t need him to quell her desire. She was perfectly capable of taking care of her own needs. She reached into her nightstand and pulled her favorite toy from it, settling it next to her thigh on the bed. Her door to her room was locked and the room was sound proofed. Anything she did in here was not anything Dee would ever hear.
She closed her eyes and gingerly began touching herself with her hands, as she lay naked on the top of her duvet. Allowing herself to fantasize her hands were his hands she let them run over her body, exploring every inch of herself. Stroking her breasts, squeezing her n*****s tightly in her fingertips. She licked her fingers and then returned them to her n*****s, twisting and turning them with one hand while her other hand slid down her toned abdomen, dipping along her navel, her flat midriff.
Smoothing over her waxed mound of flesh, she slid her moistened fingers over her slit and imagined what it would be like for Adrianu Cavallaro to be between her thighs, his tongue touching her the way her fingers were. She imagined his breath hot and sweet against her flesh as she pushed her folds open to slide her fingers into the crevice.
Would he plunder her depths with his tongue, or would he go straight for the nub at the apex of her womanhood, finding the pulse under it and sending it screeching into overdrive? She slipped her now dampened fingers deeper into herself, listening to the squelching it made when she fingered herself, trailing the moisture up to her clit and then back down. For several minutes she played with herself, tasking herself to revel in the naughty dreams she’d concocted of the mafia man. She held her legs wide open, pretending he’d have her tied up and unable to escape the pleasure he would give her.
Her body was thrumming now as she was lost in her fantasy of Adrianu eating her p***y, fingering her while he did so. She moaned as she pinched her n****e and plunged the fingers of her other hand knuckle deep inside her. She knew his fingers were bigger than hers. One of his fingers would equal two of hers and she rested her thumb against her clit as she felt the familiar rise of pressure in her pelvis.
Using just her fingers she circled the little button between her thighs and plunged her fingers in and out until she was arching off the bed, her orgasm hitting her fast and with the ease of knowing exactly how to touch herself to give herself pleasure. She whispered his name as she floated down from the cloud of sensation she was feeling.
Reaching for the toy beside her, she turned on the vibrating dildo and slipped it inside her, the sucking pitch her body made as it clenched around it, sexy to her own ears. The curved appendage went deep into her, striking her g-spot effortlessly while the external nub fit perfectly against her clit. Arwen was attuned to her own body, knew when and where to touch to get the most pleasure and as she stroked her insides with the device, she felt the familiar hum of the climb surround her. The vibrations sent her spiraling over the edge into ecstasy, and she bucked wildly, using her free hand to hold her hips to the bed as she imagined Adrianu f*****g her with her favorite toy.
As she spun back down to the bed, her head thrown back on the pillow and her breath short and puffed she heard the ping of her phone notifying her of an incoming message. She pushed through the haze of her orgasm as she extricated the device from her body. Ignoring her phone, she made her way to the bathroom and found her special cleaners and tidied up.
After she put her playthings away, she pulled the duvet back and slipped into the cool sheets, refusing to even look at the phone on her nightstand. If it were anyone from her team, her watch would have alerted. If it was Deidre, it had a special ring for her notification. Only one other person would be texting her at this hour and he had hung up on her and hadn’t wanted to play. Well, she didn’t need to give him the satisfaction of thinking she was waiting around for him. He could stay on ‘unread’ all night.
“Take that, Mr. Cavallaro,” she whispered as she fell into a dirty yet sweet dreamed filled slumber.