Operation Love, page 4
“Weren’t you the one to mention this was a way to kill time?”
His hand slid from her side and dropped to the seat controls. He adjusted it so they had more room. Casanova’s hard member pressed against her sex. She’d spent nights in bed masturbating to the image of Casanova, then felt guilty because of her late husband.
Christopher would want her to live her life, and it was time.
“I pursued you for a long time,” Casanova said. “If you want more, you’re going to have to take it.”
She leaned forward, her lips an inch from his. “Except you told me you loved me and then shut me out of your life.”
“You’ve seen my record. The worst of my adolescence isn’t in the folder.”
“How about we make a pact?” She waited for him to nod before she continued. “Neither of us will judge the other about their past.”
He didn’t answer her. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair and guided her to his lips. A soft moan escaped her as his tongue pushed into her mouth. His hand glided under the bottom of her shirt and along her skin. She couldn’t stop her hips from grinding against his cock. She hated the layer of clothes between them. For years, she’d never slept with another person, thinking it was a betrayal to her late husband.
But at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to have Casanova’s cock deep inside her. His calloused finger tugged down the front of her bra. She broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. His fingers played with her nipple.
“Are you wet for me?” he whispered.
When she didn’t answer, he pinched her nipple.
“Yes.”
He cupped her breast, and she threw her head back and groaned.
“Sit up on your knees and put your hands on my shoulders.”
A bird landed on the car next to them.
“Casanova, we’re outside.”
He squeezed her ass. “You should have thought about that before you climbed on my lap. I want to taste your pussy, so kneel.”
Her body heated when he ground out the command. She rested her fingers on his shoulders and glanced out the windows. They were alone. Casanova tugged the button of her jeans open and pulled down the zipper. He slipped his hand into her pants.
He slid two fingers through her folds, and her body ignited.
“I’m so close,” she said.
She squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers dipped inside of her. It was like he had a road map to her body.
“I need to taste this sweet pussy.” Casanova pulled his hand from her pants, and she opened her eyes to catch him licking his fingers. “Better than I imagined.”
Sex with Christopher was very vanilla, but they had been young.
“Please, Casanova.”
“I love to hear you beg.” He dipped his hand back into her pants. His fingers glided through her sex before he pushed them deep inside of her. He slowly pumped his hand, and she leaned forward. Her lips pressed against his. The orgasm rushed through her body, and he captured her scream with his mouth.
“You’re sexy as fuck when you come. I can’t wait to lay you out across the bed and lick every drop from you.”
She ground her hips against him. “I need to take care of you.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t a one for one type of thing.”
A horn blared, and she peeked over the seat to see a man on the other side of the parking garage heading for the stairs on the opposite side. “That was close.”
“No, it wasn’t. I kept my eye on the surrounding area. The only person who gets to see you come is me…unless you get off on being an exhibitionist.”
Sex outside or in front of others wasn’t something she’d ever considered, but the thought of getting caught heightened the experience. “I did like the thrill of being outside.”
“I’ll see what I can come up with, but your phone beeped four times, so we should probably check in, or Lucas might hack some satellite cameras and record us. Then I would have to kill him.”
He popped the door open, and she climbed outside, which was a hell of a lot easier than climbing over the center console. She slipped back into the SUV and grabbed her phone. Lucas had sent an all-clear text. When she didn’t respond, he asked if they needed assistance. Then he reported he was hacking the satellite.
Grim: All clear.
Xavier: Lucas pulled the cameras. We found you.
She stared at her phone, not sure how to reply. Should she ask if the SUV had rocked? Her cheeks felt like she’d spent the day at the beach.
Casanova: Heading to the hotel.
Lucas: Beds are so much better than cars.
It was official: she would need a new job. No way could she look Xavier, the man she considered a brother, in the face again.
Casanova: How would you know? You built an avatar girlfriend.
Lucas: I’ve watched enough porn to know what looks comfortable.
“Stop feeding into this conversation,” Grim said to Casanova.
Casanova: Not sure if you caught the license plate on the car, but it was XET 3II. Two males, one blond, one with black hair.
Lucas: Running the plates now.
He placed his cellphone in the center console. Her instructor at the Farm would be so disappointed in the fact that she hadn’t thought to write down the license plate number. Memorization wasn’t a strong skill for her. She would spend hours going over an operation file.
“How did you remember the plate number for so long?”
Casanova put the SUV in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. “I made sure to catch the plate number and remember it.”
When they’d watched serial killer documentaries together, he’d always been able to recall facts from previous shows together. At the time, she’d thought it was because he had paid close attention while her mind ran left to right, up, down, and spun in a circle. Now, she realized just how exceptional his memory was.
“You have a photographic memory.”
He tapped on the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking garage and onto the side road. “Sort of. It’s easy for me to remember things. Am I going the right way? I never looked to see what hotel they booked us into, only caught a glimpse of the confirmation.”
She could sense he wanted to drop the subject, which only made her want to ask more questions.
For now, she wouldn’t push, but she would later. She plugged her phone into the SUV and navigation weaved them through town until they pulled up to the Waldorf. Casanova parked outside the large glass doors. A valet rushed to his side and pulled open the door.
“I’m checking in, Jared Dawson.”
“Here is your ticket, Mr. Dawson.”
Casanova grabbed their bags from the back. Neither of them wanted to leave their luggage with the hotel staff. They both had extra guns and ammo tucked into the side pocket.
His hand pressed to the small of her back as they approached the front desk. The clerk, a young man with black-rimmed glasses, smiled at her.
“We should have two rooms. The first one is under Jared Dawson, and the second—"
“Oh no, sir. I have your one honeymoon suite ready for Jared and Angel Dawson. We are so excited you decided to spend your special time with us.”
She had to have heard the guy wrong, or he hadn’t cleaned his glasses. “I think there is a mistake.”
He glanced down at the computer screen. “No, we just upgraded the two rooms to our honeymoon suite per your assistant. He had us add on the full package. All you must do is tell us what day you want the rose petal bath drawn. Each night, we will have champagne delivered.”
Casanova grabbed the two plastic key cards from the clerk and slipped them into his pocket. “Thank you. Can we have a note added not to bother us? You know how things are for newlyweds. Wouldn’t want a maid seeing me ravishing my new wife.”
“Of course, sir.” The nerdy boy nodded before he typed.
Grim was still speechless as Casanova twined his fingers with hers and tugged her toward the elevator. “Think this was Lucas or Xavier? I know he said we were going as a married couple, but I assumed we would still have separate rooms.”
She wasn’t going back to the office. Nope, her reputation was ruined, and she sure as hell couldn’t look her boss in the eyes again. God, she’d let Casanova play her body like a violin in the middle of a parking garage.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” He led her into the elevator, and his lips came down on hers the second the door slid shut. The damn man and his magical touch. One kiss and common sense went out the window. He pulled back and held her close. “Nobody can shame you for what we have. If the boss or Lucas want to give us an upgraded room, I’m not going to complain.”
She rested her body against his chest as the elevator climbed to the sixth floor Their room was at the end of the hall. He swiped the key, and they wandered into the large open room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Lake Michigan.
Their cellphones beeped.
Lucas: Car linked back to security for the charity auction. It seems they were keeping an eye on you.
They had two days to get settled before the auction.
“I’m going to take a quick shower before we check out the location of the auction,” Casanova said. “Any ideas on how to get a lead on your ex?”
“Yes. I’m going to send Hannah a text.”
He placed a quick kiss on her lips before he sauntered toward the large double doors of the bedroom. She spotted only one bed.
Grim: I need an address for Hannah Duncan, age thirty-one.
She slid her cellphone into her back pocket.
The hotel room was gorgeous. Xavier allowed them to stay in high-end rooms but never suites.
A while back, she’d worked on a mission to help protect a woman named Rose. She did crime scene cleanup, and Grim had to assist cleaning up a scene for the woman. Since that day, she looked at rooms in a different perspective. She’d never realized all the blood and small pieces of human matter that needed to be cleaned after a kill.
Three hundred and seventy-four kills. She kept a list of each person. Some stuck with her more than others.
Her phone vibrated, pulling her from her past.
Lucas: 2486 S. Lowe Ave
She had the address, and now she hoped Hannah would have answers.
5
Casanova
Casanova didn’t need the GPS or directions to the South Side. He could drive to his old neighborhood with his eyes closed. Each turn he took drove him deeper into his past.
Grim had said a woman named Hannah would have answers for them. Unfortunately, Hannah lived in the one place he wanted to avoid.
The street names hadn’t changed, but the houses had. Many were updated or even torn down. He’d read reports the South Side was going through gentrification. New paint and new residents didn’t erase the terrible memories the neighborhood held over his head.
He turned the vehicle down Lowe Street. All he had to do was drive two more blocks south and take a right, and he would be at the motel that held so many of his nightmares.
“This is it.” Grim’s voice cut through the fog in his head.
The two-story home wasn’t the worst on the block, but it sure as hell wasn’t the best. A red two-foot by one-foot sign hung on the front gate: Trespassers will be shot without questions asked.
In a different neighborhood, he would call their bluff, but South Side didn’t mess around. There was still plenty of crime on the streets.
Grim reached for the door handle of the SUV.
“Wait.”
She twisted in the seat to face him. “It’s getting dark, and I want to be out of here by nightfall.”
“How well do you know this person?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “I used to know her well. She’s the only person I can use as a lead.”
He pulled his gun from his holster and double-checked the clip. His stomach tightened as he crawled out of the vehicle. The horn of the L train roared one street over. He had to think of this as an operation.
Grim’s brows drew together as she waited on the sidewalk and stopped at the edge of the property.
He wanted to grab her hand, but he needed the ability to pull his gun if they were attacked. “Ready?”
She flipped the latch, and the gate scraped against the uneven sidewalk that led up the path to the house.
He kept his eyes glued to the house as they made their way up the path. The wood stairs groaned as Grim placed her foot on the first step. He wasn’t sure it would hold his two-hundred-and-twenty-pound muscled frame.
The faded white door slammed open, and a woman in her early thirties stood with a shotgun. “Can’t you fuckin’ read?”
Her curly red hair matched her fiery attitude.
“Better than you can see, apparently,” Grim shot back, and the woman lowered the barrel of the gun.
“Holy shit. Angel, what the hell are you doing on the South Side?”
A neighbor across the street openly stared at them.
“Can we talk about this inside?” Grim asked in a low voice.
Hannah raised her gun in his direction. “Do you need me to shoot him? All I ask is you help me stage the crime scene inside, so the cops don’t arrest me.”
Grim threw her head back and laughed. “No killing, but if we have time later, I have some tips about crime scene cleanup. One of my friends does it for a living.”
Casanova could handle Grim learning tips from Rose, but he was going to draw the line at the spider and bug collecting Rose enjoyed. He despised the creepy crawlers.
He stepped into the small living room with white furniture and gray walls. A small bouquet of flowers sat on the coffee table, and they brightened the room. Kids’ toys covered the floor, and a wood staircase led to the second story.
“Have a seat, and I’ll grab us a drink,” Hannah said.
He sat on the couch next to Grim. A picture on the mantle caught his attention. Hannah and another woman stood under a cherry blossom tree in DC. The other woman had familiar gun-metal-gray eyes.
“It’s great to see you, but I’m guessing this isn’t a social call?”
Hannah handed them each a Bud Light bottle. Casanova placed his on the end table next to him.
Grim took a swig of her beer and set it on the coffee table. “I’m here about your brother.”
“Are you finally going to put a bullet between his eyes? Might be a little harder now since he’s a senator. I told you years ago I would help dispose of the body. But you know the reason I can’t kill him.”
“Not killing him. But he is in town,” Grim said.
Hannah fidgeted with the wrapper on her beer. “He comes back to Chicago a lot. He stops by to throw some cash on the table but is gone before anybody gets home. It’s easy now since the boys are teenagers, they are barely home.”
“Has he told you why he comes to town?”
“I learned a long time ago not to ask questions. It’s not like the piece of shit would tell me anything, but the streets talk. Politician coming back to the ghetto driving his fancy car. Many of the people around here don’t like it and think he’s using the neighborhood for political reasons.”
Gossip traveled around the South Side quick, almost as fast as gonorrhea spread.
“Who on the streets would have information on him?” Casanova asked.
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Pretty boy thinks he can handle these streets. You wouldn’t understand the first thing about this neighborhood.”
He could sit back and let her assume he had no clue, or he could get the answers they needed so he could get the fuck back to downtown Chicago and away from the triggers of his childhood. “You didn’t grow up here. South Side, everyone is up in their neighbor’s business. And you can only be a couple of years younger than me. Is Timmy’s Pizza still the place to get the gossip?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Timmy sold out to a big corporation. Many of the original spots are gone. I moved in here four years ago. So, you’re right, I didn’t grow up here. What was your name?”
“His name is Jar—"
He squeezed Grim’s hand. He didn’t need this woman looking into his past, or others finding out he was in town. Which was pointless, because the second he stepped on the street, someone would recognize him. “Casanova is fine.”
In time, he would have to tell her about his past. He just hoped she would stick to the pact they had made.
Hannah tugged open the coffee table drawer and pulled out a book of matches. “Ask for Gigi at the Clam Digger bar. She’ll know where to get your information.”
The door to the house swung open. Casanova reached for his gun, but a tall straggly kid with red hair walked in.
“Mom, Old Man Richter needs you to help with his toilet.” The kid stumbled to a stop. “Aunty Angel?”
He jumped over the side of the couch and threw his arms around Grim, and she grunted.
“Hey, Milton.”
“This is fucking crazy,” he said.
“Language!” Hannah barked.
The kid never turned his head. “Uncle said you died, but…”
Grim pulled back from the kid. “Your uncle is—"
“A piece of shit,” Milton interrupted. “Old Man Richter said he’s in town. Saw him here a couple of days ago. Does that mean you’re with him?”
“No, I’m looking for intel on him, but please don’t let him know I’m here.”
The kid pulled Grim in for a second hug. “I won’t tell anyone. I could ask around on the streets?”
“We’re good,” Grim said, “but we’ve got to make another stop, so we better get going. Here is my number. If you need anything, make sure to call me.”
Grim chatted with them a few more minutes before they hugged their goodbyes and promised to talk soon.
The sun had set by the time she and Casanova stepped outside. Half of the streetlights flickered.
An older woman stood next to their SUV. He couldn’t see her face in the low light, but in this part of Chicago, he didn’t trust anyone.
“Stay behind me,” he whispered to Grim.
