My mouth crashes onto hers, feeling her grip me tightly from inside. Every piece of her surrounding my c.o.c.k heats with my touch. Her hands move to my bare chest and her fingers tug at my piercings with added aggression.

Em enjoys s.e.x much the same I as do: hard and fast when the mood strikes and slow and easy if our emotions are raw. Emilyn understands me and I'm not certain anyone but she could, given the circ.u.mstances we've found ourselves in.

Throwing her head back, aiming her eyes to the ceiling, her breathless pants of close climax take up the area between us.

"Don't come 'til I'm ready," I grind out, trying to hold her off.

"Then you better get there soon, Max 'cause I'm close."

My hands position at her hips so I'm able to gain control. Her small body on top of mine isn't an obstacle in comparison to my large frame. Once she clutches my shoulders tightly in her hands, the feel of her fingernails digging deep into my flesh acts as the catalyst to my own undoing.

"Go," I clip through clenched teeth. "Take it, Em."

Her body slams down one last time, and she goes still above me. I feel the warmth of her release coming right before I empty into her with my own.

Once our bodies slow from the shuddering reaction to each other, she kisses my shoulder while draping both her arms around them. "I'm tired now," she says. "And breakfast is cold," she continues. "And you've got to stop touching me all the time."

Pus.h.i.+ng my shoulder in her direction to get her to look at me, I smile with my question. "You want me to stop touching you?"

"Yes," she snaps between us, lifting slowly and allowing me to slide out of her. My c.o.c.k senses the loss and it's not appreciative. "Every time you touch me, we..."

"That's all you," I tell her jokingly as she stands fully and straightens herself.

Rolling her eyes, she turns around and attempts to act as though she's annoyed. "I'm going to shower. You're going to do dishes and then shower when you're done."

"Woman, did you just come on my c.o.c.k?"

Twisting around and looking at me, her eyebrows are furrowed with irritation. "What did you just ask me?"

"You're really f.u.c.kin' bossy for someone who just let me inside her."

She shrugs, tossing me the phone which I had left on the charger. "Make your calls before we go, too."

"Not so sure I love you telling me what to do," I explain while smiling, but it falls on deaf ears as she heads into the bathroom.

Her voice rises as she finally responds before closing the door behind her, "Then stop touching me all the time."

I took Em's orders. Well, only the one to make some calls while she showered and got ready.

I called Tommy first, knowing he'd be worried. Tommy always worries.

"Any word from Aimes or Low?" he asks with curiosity.

"Nope, nothing. And I'm starting to get anxious."

"Creed?" he asks next.

"Hoss has kept me away from the club. This weekend will be two weeks. I don't have a good feeling about any of it."

I've talked to Hoss only twice since last being inside the club. When he called, he'd explained the poker game was postponed due to his need to focus on club business. He then reminded me I wasn't a member and couldn't be included in said business, but later said he'd get in touch. My agitation grows heavier as each day pa.s.ses.

I need to see or hear Casey's okay. I need it for myself, but also for Em.

"Your mom said Em's filing for divorce. That's good news," Tommy says, pulling me from my thoughts. He must've talked to Mom this week when he realized his calls to me were being ignored.

"She is. We're headed out to talk to the lawyer today. Hoping it's final in a few months. Think it will be as long as f.u.c.khead doesn't try to contest it."

"He won't contest," Tommy a.s.sures. "I saw him in town a few days ago. He still had a limp. Aimes must have given it to him really f.u.c.kin' good."

"He deserved it."

I still wish it would've been me who'd physically hurt him after he'd put his f.u.c.king hands on Em. From what Tommy's explained, it sounds like Aimes got him enough for the both of us, though.

"You don't sound as excited about her divorce as you should be. She's free, Max," he rightfully observes. "This is a big deal."

"I know," I return quickly, but with a thousand thoughts racing through my head. "It is a big deal, and I'm happy about it. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I hate this," I admit quietly, running my hand through the back of my hair in frustration. "Every f.u.c.kin' minute of every G.o.dd.a.m.n day. I hate it."

"I know you do. We all hate it for you," Tommy replies.

"Em and I should be enjoying each other. Not that we aren't, but there's so much s.h.i.+t to constantly worry about. Casey is everywhere in this house, and she's not even here, if that makes any f.u.c.kin' sense."

I imagine my longtime friend shaking his head at me through the line. "It does. You've already done more for her than anyone in this town has."

"It's not enough."

"Aimes is doing what he can. He needs time. He loves Em, too."

I hear the growl release from my throat at hearing those words in any reference. Tommy hears it, too, because he laughs.

Clearing his throat, he tries to backpedal. "He doesn't love her. Not like that, anyway. C'mon. Get over that s.h.i.+t. I'm just sayin' Aimes and Low are good at what they do. They'll help."

As Em comes out of the bathroom, fully dressed and looking extremely annoyed, I cut Tommy off before he's able to say anything more. "I gotta run, Em's in a mood. We've got s.h.i.+t to do."

Tommy laughs in return. "Get her unhitched from that a.s.shat and make her yours. Sounds like she's already your ball and chain."

"Right," I flip back. "She's starting to be."

"Call me if you need anything."

"Out."

Chapter Five.

I've learned she'll be a good mother if she ever has children of her own.

"I thought I heard someone in here," Anna's voice interrupts Casey and Cilas as she walks into the kitchen, wearing only a black silk robe and red fuzzy slippers. Her hair is done up in curlers and her makeup is heavier than Casey's ever seen it.

She looks so pretty.

"Ci, what are you bothering her with now?" she asks, leveling Cilas with a curious stare.

When Cilas brought her lunch today, it was the same as the day before. He motioned for her to get up and follow him to the kitchen, where they started to prepare an evening meal for others. Casey was happy to a.s.sist him. The simple but quiet companions.h.i.+p was welcome, and it was better than sitting in her room with nothing else to do.

Cilas, of course, says nothing in response to Anna's question, but takes the bread in Casey's hand away. When her eyes move to his dark brown, almost black ones, she finds a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt radiating into the room.

"Come on, sweetheart," Anna whispers, wrapping her arm around Casey's shoulders and pulling her toward the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom.

Before exiting the kitchen completely, Anna stops their forward momentum to turn back. "Cilas, honey, if Viktor sends someone looking, can you try to explain we'll be ready after his dinner?"

Cilas nods briefly then goes back to his task as Casey and Anna walk out together, now arm in arm.

Once in the bathroom, Casey finds Anna's makeup and hair supplies strewn about its large basin. She notices a set of girl clothes, possibly her size, hanging over a door at the end of the long counter.

"We don't have time to wash your hair again, so we'll put it up." Anna smiles and walks toward her.

"Okay," Casey says out loud, speaking for the first time this morning.

"Viktor has another guest coming and he'd like you to meet him."

"Guest?" Casey asks, hearing the term for the first time in regards to those who mingle in and out of her room at all hours of the day.

Pulling up Casey's long, unruly, dark hair, Anna runs the brush beneath it. It's full of tangles that hurt when caught, but Casey doesn't wince. She's come to know Anna wouldn't hurt her on purpose. She trusts the beautiful woman so much, she wishes for her to have been her mother.

"Remember," Anna starts to explain. "You're with Viktor. You're not to be touched or handled. Don't be afraid of them."

"Why are they coming?" Casey questions, studying herself in the mirror then moving her eyes to focus on Anna in the reflection.

Anna exhales, finis.h.i.+ng a quick braid and positioning it in a bun on top of her head. "You don't need to worry about that right now, okay?"

Turning Casey around by the shoulders, Anna bends her knees slightly to stare into her face. She uses a small cold cloth to wipe the dirt Casey had collected since her shower yesterday, and then she smiles. Casey inhales the clean scent of the lavender soap as she smiles back.

"Do you like pretty clothes?" Anna asks Casey, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with antic.i.p.ation.

Casey nods, moving her gaze toward the clothes she saw when she came in.

"These are for you," Anna explains after walking to them, grabbing the hanger, and coming back toward her.

"Me?"

Anna smiles. "I picked them out myself. They're pretty, don't you think?"

Casey looks over the pale pink dress with care. She's never worn a dress, only nightgowns and pants that stretch around her small frame. The s.h.i.+rts she's often dressed in are ratty and torn with age, and there's no telling how many women or children wore them before her.

"Change for me. I need to finish getting ready," Anna insists as she hands over the hanger.

Casey feels her face warm with worry before asking, "Are you going to be with me when I meet the guests?"

"I am," Anna replies as she looks in the mirror and starts to remove the curlers from her hair.

Casey watches Anna with admiration. Her usually straight, black hair turns into long locks of curl with each pin she removes. Casey further studies Anna's movements as she slips off her robe, leaving her in a black, lace bra and panties.

Anna's body is flawless. Small and pet.i.te, yet toned and soft in all the places Casey isn't. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s spill over the cups of the bra holding them. Her waist is trim, fitting snugly into the material of the black lace matching panties.

She watches with the same fascination as Anna slips into the black gown that seems to fit her body like a glove. The soft curves around her hips, thighs, and chest leave Casey breathless. She knew Anna was beautiful before, but now she finds her absolutely breathtaking.

Anna is truly stunning.

Momentarily, Casey's mind ponders on Cilas. She wonders if he sees the same when he looks at her, too. A smile she tries hard to hide escapes at the thought of Cilas and Anna being anything more than what she's always known them to be. The idea of Cilas caring for Anna in any way warms her chest in an unexplainable way.

Moving her gaze to her left, Casey studies her pale and tired expression in the mirror. With her hair up, she notices her collarbone at the bottom of her throat as it protrudes more than she ever remembers it doing before.

She also notes the change in her own body. Her neck is longer, her lips are fuller, and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s are starting to feel heavier. Everything about her is changing.

Anna calls Casey from her self-a.s.sessing stare. "Come on, sweetheart. Get dressed. Then I'll add some color to your face."

Casey does what she's told, not feeling as exotic as Anna appears, but she feels pretty nonetheless. She's still not used to these kinds of clothes and appreciates the feeling of cleanliness they're giving her.

As Anna uses various powders and brushes on her face, she talks about Viktor. Anna tells her about what life back home, in Russia, was like. Casey listens with bated breath to every detail Anna is so willing to share: presents brought in daily, food in endless supply, and other girls who live there who Casey longs to have as friends.

"I want to go to wherever Russia is," Casey hears herself boldly interrupt.

"I understand, and maybe soon you will." Anna replies. "Let's go so we're not late for Viktor. Leave all this here; I'll come back for it later."

Although she's nervous about what the day will bring, Casey can't help but feel thankful for all she's been given.

Chapter Six.

"I've changed my mind. I don't think we should go out. What if someone calls? What if someone has news?" Emma tries to explain to me as she stands at the door. It's painfully apparent she's still deciding if she's willing to spend an evening outside of this apartment.

For the most part, she's remained strong; however, there've been times I've expected her to second-guess. And she's doing that now.