abandoned her breast and devoured her mouth. She broke away from their kiss and buried her face in his neck. Her hot pants buffeted his skin. She was close, so very close…
“Mick! Uhhhh. Unnnh. Ahh. Eddie. Eddie.” She scratched at Mick’s shoulders. “Mick. Mick. Mick!”
“Keep coming for me, sweetheart.” Mick whispered his encouragement. “Come all over Eddie’s fat cock.”
Eddie groaned. “God, Mick!”
Mick locked eyes with his big man. “You know you want to come inside that hot pussy. Fill her up with your cum, and I’ll eat it right out of her.”
Eddie and Whitney both cried out at that statement. Mick smiled as Eddie’s orgasm ripped through him. He slammed deep and spilled his seed before collapsing.
Mick gave the pair a few moments to calm down. They shared sensual kisses and petted and nuzzled on another. Eventually, Mick crawled over Whitney and licked and kissed his way down her beautiful body. When he reached the apex at the top of her thighs, she put her hand down to stop him. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” Mick assured her, parting her thighs for his pleasure. “Besides,” he grinned devilishly, “I never break a promise…”
Chapter Five
A week later, Whitney abruptly woke from a rather-annoying dream about work. She’d been trying to put a specific skirt on a model for a print-campaign shoot, but every time she grabbed the hanger an ugly-ass chartreuse ruffled number had replaced the sleek, gorgeous fuchsia one she wanted.
Inhaling deeply, she stretched her arms over head and made contact with Mick’s wooden headboard. She opened her eyes and expected to find Eddie next to her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Mick’s absence wasn’t surprising. He was always out of bed half an hour or more before them, even on the days he was off shift.
Like today.
Miffed they’d both left her alone, Whitney frowned and slipped out of bed. She considered making the bed but in her grumpy mood decided against it. Inside her bathroom, she started her morning routine with a hot shower and some mental note-taking for the upcoming day. There were so many things to do in preparation for her new job. Business cards, a better website, transferring her email, figuring out the parking situation, scoping out the eateries in walking distance of the new office. So much leg work, so little time.
As she flicked through the hangers in her closet, Whitney considered her day. She was styling a shoot for most of the morning followed by lunch with a junior fashion editor doing a piece on the new company. The afternoon would be spent meeting with her current roster of clients to assure them the transition would be smooth. Poaching a select few was tempting but totally against her contract. After work, she had to run by the graphic-design shop to check on her new business cards, and then there was that cocktail party where she planned to schmooze and network.
Whitney settled on a belted dress made of fiery-orange fabric. The box pleats along the neckline were her favorite element. She chose those outrageously expensive leather flats she’d scrimped and saved to buy over the flashy pumps she’d reached for first. With all the walking and standing she’d do, her feet would thank her at the end of the day.
She quickly accessorized with earrings, a bracelet, and watch and tucked her cosmetic bag into her purse. Her cell phone had recharged overnight, so she unhooked it and tossed it into her bag, too. She grabbed her iPad from her bed and left her room.
By the time she reached the kitchen, she was already hitting up Facebook and Twitter, searching for the latest fashion news. The tantalizing scent of French toast, bacon, and eggs made her mouth water. She looked up from her iPad to see Eddie at the stove and Mick filling glasses with orange juice. He swooped in for a quick smooch. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you, Mick.” Whitney placed her purse and tablet on the counter.
“Beautiful,” Eddie said, leaning over for a kiss. “Sorry I wasn’t there to hold you this morning.”
“I dragged him out for a run,” Mick explained. “I’m looking a little flabby around the midsection and needed the drill sergeant over there to kick my ass into high gear.”
Whitney giggled. “Flabby? You? There’s not an ounce of extra fat on your body.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie said, giving Mick a critical eye. “I’m pretty sure I grabbed ahold of a love handle last night.” Mick whacked him on the arm. “I kid. I kid!”
Whitney laughed and took the plate Eddie handed her. The guys trailed her into the dining room where they sat in their usual places. Mick made a second trip for the tray of juice and coffee and brought her forgotten iPad.
“So what are your plans for your day off?” Whitney asked Mick as she drizzled her favorite organic maple syrup over the fluffy French toast Eddie had made.
“Sleep. Catch up on some television.”
“Do some grocery shopping,” Eddie interjected, shooting him a meaningful glance.
Mick groaned and grimaced. “You know I hate the grocery store.”
“Cry me a river,” Whitney said, shaking her head. “You do the shopping, like, four times a year.”
“But the list is so long and complicated. And,” he added emphatically, “Eddie makes me use coupons!”
Whitney laughed. “God forbid we save a little money around here.”
“Some of us”-Eddie gestured between himself and Whitney-“didn’t grow up with a silver spoon tucked neatly between our lips.”
Mick narrowed his eyes and muttered over his glass, “I’ve got something you can tuck between your lips.”
“Yes, please,” Whitney said and offered her sexiest smile.
“Well, you can’t have any meat unless you finish your-”
“Not at the breakfast table, children,” Eddie scolded playfully. Whitney surrendered to a fit of giggles as she picked up her iPad and continued skimming the morning’s latest posts and tweets. Social networking drove the fashion business. She made sure she was an active participant.
Her next stops were the handful of gossip blogs she loved. She read out the particularly juicy bits to the guys. She had a feeling Mick was the only one even the slightest bit interested. Eddie didn’t get the obsession with famous folks. He also wasn’t a fan of gossip. Such a moral sweetheart, that one.
As Whitney polished off her eggs and bacon and toast, she landed on the local news. Her finger scrolled down the front page of stories. “Another robbery yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Eddie replied rather gruffly. “Two people killed. A teller and a guy making a deposit. Apparently they came in with shotguns and blasted up the place. Terrorized the whole room, got the money, shot up the vault, and then killed two people on the way out, both of them using their cell phones to text for help.”
Whitney’s full stomach churned as the horrifying vision filled her head. Eddie painted a truly frightening picture of violence.
“Sounds a lot like the old ’97 North Hollywood shootout,” Mick commented.
Eddie nodded, but Whitney shook her head. “I don’t remember that one very well. I was young and bouncing around between foster homes,” she clarified. “That’s the one with the semi-automatic weapons, right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, his voice tight. “They fired more than a thousand rounds at the cops outside the bank. Patrol cops who arrived on the scene first didn’t stand a chance against the robbers’ weapons.”
“One of them shot himself, and the other bled to death, right?”
“From wounds to the lower extremities,” Mick confirmed. “Nasty stuff.” He refilled his juice glass and poured more coffee in Eddie’s cup. “Do they have any leads?”
“None that I’ve heard,” Eddie said. “They seem to be somewhat professional but, you know, psychotic.”
“It’s sad,” Whitney murmured. “I can’t believe the way this crazy-ass economy has made some people lose their minds.”
“I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” Eddie replied. “When people are down on their luck, they steal diapers or a can of SPAM or something useful, you know? They don’t knock off banks and kill tellers. They aren’t interested in long prison terms. They just want to feed their kids or keep clean diapers on their butts. This?” Eddie leaned over
