Talia struggled to breathe, gasping, holding onto her chest as she heaved so deeply, eyes wide, fear gripping her so tight she thought she might die from this episode. She rolled to the side of the bed, knocked over the bottle of water, and made the lamp wobble on its base as she grabbed the brown paper bag and brought it to her lips as she scrunched the top. She unsuccessfully tried to breathe into it, her hand shaking, her body trembling as sweat drenched her clothing. In and out, the tightness felt deep, and she wondered if she had finally come to a point of no return. When would she be safe? When would Bronco call with news of Barishna’s death? When?
She continued to breathe into the bag. Slowly, oh so very slowly her lungs began to open, her inhales became fuller and fuller, and soon the sensations of being unable to breathe rescinded, along with the feel of his hands squeezing the life from her and the burning pain as he cut the letter B into her skin. She ran her palm along her neck and continued to just breathe. She felt that exhausted feeling as she eased onto the rug by her bed, folded her hands, bowed her head, and prayed. “Please, God, please, never let him find me. Never let his hands touch me, his evilness control me again. Please, God, please, deliver me from this evil, and let me find happiness once and for all.”
The sound of her phone alarm going off forced her back and to put the nightmare behind her. A strong, professional woman, quiet, reserved, smiling as often as she could, but underneath, she lived each day with a fear so great not even her friends knew about it. Well, Spartan knew, and Antonia did, but that was because Cesar knew, and a few times Talia had to meet him, and they didn’t want anyone questioning why, or to think something was going on between the two of them. No, instead, he had become a good friend, and even now, as she looked at her cell phone from last night, she saw his messages of concern for her. Cesar knew what she was going through, and having so many friends who recently were involved in dangerous life-threatening situations, she was extra sensitive and fearful. So much so that she had a bit of an attitude. Especially with that one guy, that soldier Spadaro. He and his other team members—all psycho-looking, antisocial specialists in destruction, chaos, and death—intimidated her and also scared her. Thank God as soon as Merica was safe, Spadaro, Tat, Basile, and Vacarro were called off to some top-secret Sons of Justice mission. A month had passed. A whole month since the last chaotic scene of danger close to home.
She reached for the phone, turned off the alarm, and then leaned back against the bed. She looked around her town house. Two years here, and still no feelings of home, of belonging. Why? Because Barishna was still out there, evading capture and doing his thing. Her brother believed that Barishna changed his identity and altered his appearance. She knew him pretty well. The man was obsessed with how he looked. A narcissistic asshole, he had been so critical of his body, his looks, his possessions, and she was right there at the top of the list. Her body had to be perfect. It still was.
She maintained perfection, the well-groomed body fit for a king, yet she didn’t have any lovers but Barishna. Did she keep a smooth pussy for him? No, she didn’t want to believe that she still feared the possibility that he could find her again, take her back and far away from anyone she knew or loved. There was that chance, and if he did come, then perhaps his anger would be less knowing she still followed his rules he had established for her body.
She shook the thoughts from her head and forced herself to believe she did it for other reasons. To perhaps engage in sex with someone else. Some other man she could find release in, to use for pleasure and to forget. Who was she kidding? She could never let another man touch her, show affection toward her. She wasn’t capable. She was broken, not whole, not unscarred. Despite all she had done in the last two years to try to strengthen herself overall.
She worked out hard, especially doing self-defense and martial arts, at a place two towns over with Cole’s cousin Frankie. Her brother’s friend, Bronco, was still chasing a shadow, never getting close enough, always steps behind, and one time a year and a half ago, a block away, she saw him in Brazil. Caught sight of Barishna getting into the black car with the dark tinted windows with his entourage of security. Bronco and his team nearly died. Barishna got away. If she lost Bronco, she was screwed. It was bad enough she hadn’t seen her brother, Nathan, in more than three years. How unfair, but they didn’t have a choice. He feared he was being watched, despite his involvement in the military, and even as a Green Beret like Bronco, he couldn’t do a thing to find Barishna. No, the man was always so smart. Too smart to be found and caught. Bronco and Nathan were working together with Bronco’s team of Berets, to locate Barishna. Cole, Woodrow, Spade, Bronco, and her brother, Nathan, were a team, working together, pursuing leads to destroy Barishna. She didn’t think they would ever be successful.
She wrapped her arms around herself and couldn’t help but feel the imaginary restraints that once tied her down to a bed in a villa in Sienna, Italy. A country, a land so beautiful, so romantic and luxurious that she was saddened to never be able to visit again. To never see the museums, the centuries’ old artwork, and even take a stroll down the village streets or in the gardens she once did on a daily basis. Those days of freedom, of living a fantasy life and dream, were over. Here she was in the United States in Texas. A fake last name and a fake set of college records, all to keep her hidden. What were the chances that Barishna would ever find her in Repose, Texas? Probably not as slim as she wanted to believe, which was why every night she had a panic attack. Every goddamn night.
When Basile released her lips, she looked to Spadaro. He stood a few steps away and felt it when his eyes roamed over her. He stared at her and appeared intimidating and determined, and she didn’t know what made her do it, but she hurried to him, jumped up into his arms, and he caught her, lifted her up, and kissed her. A moment later, things changed completely, and her idea of taking time to talk to them, letting them know her story to see if they still accepted her, went out the window. This attraction between them was not orderly, and it didn’t come with instructions or rules, actions, an order of procedures to follow. Their needs came with desires and the power of what they all felt over ran any and all thought process.
“Accept us. Don’t think, don’t analyze or fear or worry—let go and be free. Let us make you our woman and you make us your men,” Spadaro told her, and then he lifted her tank top up and tossed it.
She reached for his shirt and pushed it up, drooling at all those tattoos and muscles. He helped her and pulled it off the rest of the way, and then they divested one another of their clothing, and he kissed her, picked her up onto the bed, and lay between her legs, his thick, hard cock pushing against her pussy lips.
“Do we need protection?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“You accept us?”
“I want to.”
“Do. You. Accept. Us?” he asked firmly as he cupped her breast and slid his thumb along her nipple, and that look in his eyes did her in.
She turned away only to lock onto Tat, naked and stroking his cock, appearing just as lethal and filled with muscles. Then to Vacarro, covered with tattoos on one side of his shoulder and arm, and looking carnal. A glance to Basile, and he climbed up onto the bed, naked, with his thick, long cock in his hand, he held her gaze.
“He has no power here. The attraction, the desire, and connection between the five of us is more powerful and capable than him. Accept us,” Spadaro said.
“Yes, I do, but—” She felt the tears flow, and her chest began to heave up and down.
“He…he hurt me so many times. I felt pain, Spadaro. I don’t…I can’t handle pain,” she said, despite her body shaking.
Spadaro lowered his mouth to her lips and kissed her tenderly across her lips, her cheeks, and chin as he spoke to her. “We will never cause you pain. Making love should be beautiful, pure, and bring us together and closer than anything. Can you trust us to show you what real love is? Trust us to know how to make you feel good, feel special, and feel protected by the four of us?”
She nodded her head, and Spadaro winked as he trailed his mouth gently across her lips, down her neck over her breast. She closed her eyes and tried to relax and let go of her fears. The touch of his tongue and the feel of his large body pressed over hers, thick, hard, overpowering aroused her instead of scaring her.
“Arms up above your head. Let us know you want us. No holding back, baby. Not for you, nor for us. We’ve never felt like this about a woman before. Not ever,” Basile said, and he lay on his side and stroked his palm along her other breast after she raised her arms up and he cupped her cheek.
She felt Spadaro suck onto her nipple and tug on it.
“Oh,” she moaned just as Basile kissed her mouth, muffled her moans, and plunged his tongue into her mouth.
Spadaro’s lips and tongue left her nipple and trailed down her belly. She felt his teeth scrape her abs and then her over her mound. He used his palms to spread her thighs wider, and a moment later, his tongue plunged into her cunt.
She moaned into Basile’s mouth as Basile cupped her breast, kissed her fully, and then another mouth landed on her other nipple. Vacarro.
Basile moved his lips from her mouth and lowered them down to her breast.
“You’re exceptional, Talia. Incredible in every way, and we’re so lucky to have you as our woman,” Tat told her.
She was panting for breath, feeling so much she could hardly focus, but there he was standing there, watching over them as they feasted on her body. She was fine. She felt fine, and then Spadaro’s fingers pulled from her cunt, and his tongue lashed out against her clit and then slid down over her asshole.
“Oh Spadaro!” she cried out and came.
“I need you. Now. Now, baby,” Spadaro said.
“Oh please. Yes, Please,” she begged as Basile and Vacarro tugged on her nipples, held her arms above her head, their palms over her palms, connecting them with her.
Spadaro lifted up, and he began to press his thick, hard cock to her pussy. She widened her eyes, and she almost lost the will, the determination, to let him make love to her.