“I’m happy for you guys. You deserve to be happy, Des.”
“Thank you, but I know that you and Arjen will be happy together. The way he kissed you at the wedding. The way he kept staring at you at the reception. It might take a while, but I believe you’ll figure each other out.”
“I’m glad you think so. I, on the other hand, pray we last long enough for me to take over the world, so I can drop his ass.”
We went on about the new men in our lives until Desiree brought up work.
“I want to help you, Mecca. I know my father left things a mess, and you shouldn’t have to clean it up alone.”
The last thing I wanted was her getting tangled up in the den of sin that was our family business. She, as far as I was concerned, was all I had, and there was no way in hell I was dragging her in any further than she already was into this life of crime.
The Vallins weren’t saints, but she was better off living on that mountain with her big wolverine, than near the mess swirling around in the underbelly of the Vallin-Evans tornado. Knowing she was safe with Khane, was all the help I needed. Besides, Desiree and Raymond were close, so I couldn’t break her heart by telling her of my plan to kill his ass on sight.
She told me that Khane had figured out that she was the Bookkeeper, the codename she had used for the job she had meticulously maintained as advisor to a drug kingpin. She and I had already had two strategy sessions, where she had proven how she had earned the role. She thought out certain strategies as she would her art, painting openings where others wouldn’t. There was stuff in Desiree’s head that I didn’t even want to know.
The knowledge she possessed, and the dangerous information she held inside her head, could get her and any member of the Black Saints killed. It could even be leveraged by someone with enough power to take control of our organization. Raymond had allowed her secret to come out. It was one of the main reasons I had stripped him of the uncle title and was whipping his ass on sight, before I shot him if he showed his face again.
With a few calls, Desiree had people who had been blackmailed handing me updates that would have taken weeks of investigative work to figure out. Her efforts had also freed up another two million dollars.
“I’ll let you know when I need you. For now, relax and keep it low key. We don’t know what other bombs Raymond may have set in motion.”
“I’m serious, Mecca. If you need me, please let me know. I remember all the self-defense stuff you taught me. Khane has been teaching me some stuff too, so I can do more than just plan and strategize.”
I believed her. She would try for me, but Desiree wasn’t a shooter or a fighter. Her greatest weapon was her mind, and it was an asset I wanted to stay safe and protected.
The bathroom door popped open, and out he came with a towel wrapped around his waist, water sliding down his ripped muscles. The man was worth millions, so I knew he had bigger towels than the one he had chosen to wrap around his waist.
“I know, Des. Love you, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Love you too,” she replied before I hung up.
While talking to Desiree, I had taken up a comfortable position on my side of the bed with my back against the headboard. I sat in place, scanning the man that was doing everything in his power to seduce me. He pranced across the room for apparently no other reason than to allow me a better view of his body. He took a seat at the foot of our bed, his head aimed at the ceiling.
His muscled back made my mouth water and I could plainly see that the tattoo I had caught a glimpse of was only a hint of what was on his back. Ninety percent of his back was covered. He was one of those men that dressed up and played nice for the public while he hid his bad boy.
What is he up to now?
“It’s been a while since I’ve prayed, but I have an urgent need for it during this lockout period.” He glanced down.
Was he about to pray to the devil?
“You’ve always been a good dick.”
His first words caused me to gasp. No, he was not sitting there praying for his dick. The man was nothing like his dangerous reputation suggested. I thought I had married a savage beast. Instead, I had a fucking comedian.
“I ensured I trained you well. Taught you to respect women as much as they wanted to be. Taught you to be good to the pussy, to make it purr, and run wet and hot, and lay down, and beg and plead. To drip with appreciation and applaud your unrelenting efforts.”
Arjen was seriously off his meds, and funny as shit. My laughter burst free as I was no longer able to hold it back.
“I’m going to need you to be patient and kind to our Mecca, for she knows not what she’s missing. We are going to have to respect her demands and let her have her time, so she can accept us, and allow us access into those pearly gates of hers. Dammit, I know they are golden too. With a name like Mecca, you know we will be entering the holiest of lands.”
The intensity of my roaring laughter stopped Arjen’s dick prayer. His quick glance back produced a teasing smile and a quick eye wink. He had a playful side I hadn’t expected but was starting to love. I don’t believe he showed this part of himself often, if ever.
His ability to make me laugh had scored him another point, and I could feel another piece of the wall I had built tumbling down.
He stood in the middle of the floor, his finger tapping his lip, his eyes cast to the ceiling. I could picture the swarm of wicked ideas circling his head while I sat and observed, not saying a word.
Once he decided he was done with his silliness, he marched back to his side of the bed, his eyes locked on me the entire time. He threw back the covers, dropped the towel, and climbed in, butt ass naked, dick swinging all over the place.
What the hell was I going to do with Arjen Vallin?