Flame Page 6
Inside me.
Pounding me into total submission with its frenzied thrusts.
“It was a girl I was sparring with at the gym, okay?”
“A girl? No. No girl did this to you.”
“We were sparring, Dad. Boxing. Working out. It was an accident, that’s all.”
I bite my lower lip as I find the carving knife and begin chopping the peppers and onions. I can feel my dad staring at me.
Eventually, he opens his first beer. Thank God for beer.
We don’t say much as I make dinner. Chicken with instant rice and canned beans. Only meal I can make without fucking it up.
God, I wish mom were here. I miss her. Is she ever going to be here again? Is Jorge right about the Puerto Rican-style divorce?
I’m doing a pretty good job keeping my head clear until I see that Jorge found the fruit bowl and placed it back on the kitchen table. He arranged a red apple, a green apple, an orange, and three bananas.
Big bananas.
Big, long, hard bananas.
Then I get a flash of Colton Stark’s tongue in my ass.
Zing!
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” says my dad as I stare at the bananas.
“Hmm? Oh, nothing.”
I stir the beans into the rice.
Soon we’re eating, sitting at the kitchen table. I sit so I’m facing away from the bananas. The window is open to let in the refreshing cool breeze.
“Is it okay?” I say.
My dad nods and continues eating.
We talk about his woodworking, some news, and the cool weather. Then I break out something that I had rehearsed on the drive over here.
“So what was the best op you ever worked on with Frank?” I say.
My dad’s eyes light up.
“Easy. The Sobchak affair. Two guys thought they could con us into a scheme to fleece Billy Sobchak. We had this store set up, running some hot merchandise, doing some reputation building, you know to make it look legit. And Frank... goddamn... did Frank ever get into the part. He slicked his hair back and wore a cheesy brown suit with the wide lapels and an open shirt collar with a chain around his neck. Talked in a Brooklyn accent like he’s from New Yawk. So one night the guy comes in with Billy Sobchak and Frank’s eyes pop out of his head. We had been looking for him for months and he walked right in. Arrested him right there. It was beautiful.”
The only time my dad gets this animated and talkative is when talking about his days on the force.
“You had some great times as a cop, huh?” I say.
“The best times.”
Hmm. I let that slide.
“Dad, did Frank ever show signs of... anything?”
“Anything what? What do you mean by anything?”
“I mean, I don’t know, skimming. Cutting corners.”
The I’m-going-to-kill-someone stare returns.
“Never. Frank is top of the line. What are you saying?”
“Nothing, Dad. Nothing.”
The stare continues. “Tell me what’s going on, Sofia! You tell me right now. I have to know.”
“Nothing, Dad. It’s just that... I’ve been wondering about Frank, that’s all. Just concerned about him.”
“Concerned? How?”
“Look, it’s nothing. Forget it.”
My dad sips his beer and returns to eating.
“It ain’t Frank,” he says after a long pause.
“What’s not Frank?”
His eyes meet mine again. “Whatever it is.”
“Okay, fine. Fine.”
We eat in silence for a while longer.
“What’s been going on with that rich guy you’ve been staking out?”
“Nothing. Still collecting surveillance.”
“Good-looking?” he says.
I’m about to reply, but I end up holding my breath with a forkful of food halfway between my plate and my mouth.
“Sure,” I say, as I feel a flush spreading across my face.
My dad eats some more, then gives me the look again.
“Be careful,” he says. “Make sure you know what you’re doing.”
Watch for Blaze: The Stark Affair Book 3 by Skylar Cross, available on November 15, 2014
Here is a free preview:
Chapter 1
Sofia
According to the flashing arrow on my laptop, Colton Stark’s Bentley, with its hidden firefly, is still in his driveway.
I’m on DiLido Island, parked on the opposite corner from where his street meets the Venetian, in the unmarked car I got from the pool.
In TV shows and movies, cops always drive indistinct, late-model, American cars.
In real life, we use whatever we confiscate from a variety of sources. Today I’m in a green 2002 Accord. Rear right door doesn’t quite match the color of the rest of the car, which adds to the non-cop look.
My disposable cell phone rings.
“Hello,” I say.
“Sofia,” says LaTashia, “sorry I didn’t give you a heads up that I was going to do that. I sensed that I was being too easy on you lately and the office might notice.”
“No problem.”
I breathe an inner sigh of relief.
“Although I was play-acting, Sofia, I am a little concerned. You haven’t told me what you’ve learned from Colton Stark.”
“So far, not much. He hates his dead father. Doesn’t get along with that Jasper guy.”
“We know all that, Sofia. Don’t you have anything new?”
Shit.
“I’m working on it.”
“Well, find something, Sofia. And don’t let him get to you.”
I feel a sting from the soreness in my pussy. “It’s all under control. I told you before. He’s not my type.”
“I hope so.”
Damn, does she know? Can she tell? Is it that obvious that I’ve been fucked senseless?
Or am I being watched 24/7? Shit, what if LaTashia is the informant herself? What if all this is to set me up as the informant?
“I’m still on the job, Lieutenant. I can handle it.”
I see an old Toyota Corolla directly in front of me across the causeway with its left blinker on. The flashing light on my laptop shows the Bentley still in his driveway.
But fuck, that’s Colton Stark behind the wheel! I know that outline!
I’m wearing a black beret and dark sunglasses, but I slink down in the seat anyway. He doesn’t seem to notice me as he turns left onto the Venetian.
I start my engine. I’m about to follow when I see a light blue Buick pull out from its spot and coast behind him.
I turn right, following the light blue Buick across the Venetian.
“Lieutenant, I think I’m onto something,” I say. “I’ll call you later.”
I click off.
We cross into the city proper to 2nd Avenue. Our little parade takes a right, heading north.
* * *
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Also by Skylar Cross:
The Cage Sessions
Controlled by His Voice
Mastered by His Touch
Also by Skylar Cross, writing as Taylor Shade:
Eyes
Lips
Also by Skylar Cross, writing as Adriana Cruz:
Wanda Awakened
Devoured
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