She swallowed all of his come and continued to suck on him long after he’d calmed down. Then she stood up, smiling brighter than before. He could never get tired of that smile, or that mouth, or that sweet little body.
He stopped dead for a few seconds, staring at his stunning little minx, and it hit him. His possessiveness officially went up a notch – a notch that made it officially into deadly territory.
His heart thundered within him. She moved to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He stared dazedly into her dark eyes, over every inch of her face, and he had to swallow the knot in his throat at what she was doing to him.
I’m going to marry you. He thought to himself as she kissed him. I’m going to marry you. I’m going to make you mine, and nobody with a swinging little cock will come within a foot of you again.
He then pushed her back, until she was against the tile wall, and then dropped to his own knees.
“You’re turn, doll,” he told before burying himself between her legs.
*
He had to drop Emma off at work an hour later.
“I’ve got things to do at the port today,” he told her.
She clung to his chest in the back of the car, not wanting to leave him. “Can I come with you?”
“No, baby, this is shit you can’t get involved in.”
“What sort of shit?”
“Warlord shit.”
She frowned. “Oh.”
Hector’s first shipment of drugs was due to arrive any minute, if it wasn’t already there anyway. The Warlord members would swing by at noon, and he needed to get his paperwork from the customs office ready by then. He had a man on the inside – a man in serious debt – he had been able to bribe to get these sort of shipments through, and after a call yesterday, he made sure that man would be at work today.
Emma smiled. “Looks like I’ll actually have to work today.”
“You better fucking work today. I’m going to need most of the men with me at the yard in case anything happens. This means you need to stay in that office with Graeme. No more socializing at the bar.”
“Obviously. You made that clear. On that note, no more girls dancing on stripper poles for you either.”
He chuckled. “I can live with that.”
As their driver stopped in front of the club, she turned her body around and kissed him. She kissed him with every fibre of her being, stroking his tongue until his tired, overused cock jerked.
“I love you,” she said, over and over again. “I love you so much, Marcus. I already miss you.”
His hands fell to her ass and he cupped both cheeks and squeezed. “I’ll try not to be long, but with shipping everything is unpredictable.”
She kissed him everywhere, like she’d never see him again. Then she pulled away and opened the car door. Before she stepped out, he grabbed her by the arm. She looked back at him, those enthralling eyes pinning him in place. “I fucking love you too, Emma.”
She glowed. Blowing him a kiss, she slid out and shut the door behind her. As the car pulled away, he looked out the window, staring right at her ass as she walked toward the entrance.
Fuck, she was sexy.
*
Fuck, this day wouldn’t end.
It had just hit two in the afternoon and the shipment had only finally just pulled into port after two hours of piloting. Two fucking hours! He would have to have a word with Clarence (aka the fucking turtle). Hector and the rest of his goons arrived on their bikes a half hour later. Hector pulled his helmet off and approached Borden.
“Everything going alright?” he asked.
“The cranes are unloading the ship as we speak,” Borden answered. “The road tractors will take your container into a marked part of the yard and I’ll run to the customs office with the documents.”
“Fuck yes,” Hector said with a smile. “Do you want to be paid now or later?”
“I prefer when the work is done.”
“Great.”
Borden’s gaze shifted to their big Harleys. “How are you going to transport your shit?”
“We’ve got a big moving truck coming around. There are lots of furniture already stacked in there ready for delivery. Should go under the radar with no issues. It’s going straight to our connection. So it’s fucking payday for us.”
Borden just nodded. He didn’t give a fuck. “And Bull…has he been cleaned up?”
Hector smiled charmingly. “Bull who?”
“Good.”
Hector glanced around just then. “Where’s Hawke? I thought he’d be here for this. He can’t still be shitty about what happened.”
“No, he’s busy on something else.” That was a lie, but he didn’t want Hector to know there were any issues. Shit needed to stay professional.
It took another hour for their particular sea container to unload. Borden grabbed his documents and told his men to keep an eye on the bikers as he ducked out. He should only be twenty minutes. He climbed into his car and drove out, and on his way he received a text message from Emma.
I miss your cock. Oh…and your face too, I guess.
He smiled.
She was going to be his wife.
Thirteen
Emma
Graeme was present when I got to work. His eyes were a little bloodshot and he had a mug of coffee in his hand, downing it like his life depended on it. I said good morning to him, and he responded with a half-assed grumble.
“I thought you’d come around last night,” I told him as I took a seat at my desk.
“I didn’t get the call until morning,” he replied, taking another large gulp of his coffee. “I was drunk out of my mind.”
“You hit up a bar after you left the club or something?”
“I got some bottles at home lying around. Thought to hell with it, might as well go down hard. Now I’ve got a headache from hell.”
I laughed. “I can tell. You look like crap, Graeme.”
He nodded, his moustache unruly, his face pale. “I feel it.”
“Maybe you should go home.”
“No. You’re my priority.”
I turned on my computer and stared at him with a soft smile. “I don’t have to be. You take on too many hours looking out for me. You said so yourself yesterday. It wouldn’t be wrong to go home and nurse your hangover.”
“I’d rather be here. Work is practically my home now. Has been since I started working for Borden.”