JONELLA…DONOVAN?
Donovan watched as Anneliese gazed at the woman he had called his 'wife.' She knew that his divorce from Remy was still fresh. This woman was his…rebound wife? She certainly didn't fit the mode of his typical girlfriend. While Anneliese blinked at her son's new 'wife,' Donovan stared at Pax from the periphery of his eye. If you make one wrong move, Jonella, I'll fucking strangle you.
"Wife," Anneliese said, finally speaking. "Is this where you were all night?" He nodded, a little shamefacedly. She gazed up at Pax [she is certainly a tall one]. "Well, I would have preferred to have met her first, of course, but welcome to the family."
Pax drew in a shocked breath as Donovan's mother embraced her. So startled was she that she didn't know how to react. She noticed that Frankie's eyes were boring into her, threatening her life if she so much as breathed wrong. She glanced over at him and grinned, her eyes twinkling evilly. She returned Anneliese's hug. "Thank you so very much, Mrs. Donovan," she said, her voice taken down an octave, not mocking but almost sugary.
Donovan shook his head incredulously. She was doing a fairly good imitation of Remy. His hands itched to wrap around her throat. I cannot wait to get you alone, he thought. When they broke their embrace, Pax looked toward Donovan with a smirk that he longed to smack off her face. In turn, his mother glanced at him with her dark eyes. He had seen this look a thousand times as a boy: You are so in trouble, Mister. He looked away from his mother's accusatory glare, feeling like a little boy, and picked up Pax's suitcase. They entered the house and his mother called for Kane. He came out and around from the kitchen and laid his eyes curiously on the tall woman standing beside his son. Pax rebounded a little. She was looking at what Frankie would look like thirty years from now.
Anneliese turned toward her husband. "Love, this is Frank's new wife, Jonella."
He was as shocked as her: "Wife?"
As Pax was settling in Frankie's little room and laughing her ass off, Donovan was seated with his parents in the kitchen. Once again, he felt like a child. How many times had he been before his parents like this? He felt a little ashamed. They weren't going to read him the riot act of course, he was grown, but they certainly wanted an explanation. Donovan wasn't sure he could give them one. God if only I could tell them it's a fake marriage, but if I did that, they'd boot Pax out right on her ass. His arms were folded in front of him and he drummed his fingers on the table. When he became aware of that, he drew them down in his lap. He cursed Remy for prompting that new annoying habit. Of course, he was also eager to get back to the room with Pax. He intended to have a little discussion with her after his parents read him the riot act. From the time they'd arrived, she was copying every little thing that Remy did. She was doing it on purpose and when he saw her…
"Frank? You're an adult and I don't want to lecture you, but are you sure you did the right thing," Anneliese began. "It hasn't really been that long since your divorce and this woman seems so…different than the type of girl you've dated before."
He sighed. God would he hate himself in the morning when he said this. "I understand your concern and I appreciate it. Jonella is…special to me and I love her. The divorce is quite new, but I can assure you that I know what I'm doing. You'll see that she is very good for me and my daughter."
"As long as you know what you're doing," Kane said, "I suppose we can't say anything."
* * *
Dinner was a complete and total adventure. Pax came out dressed in her floral print dress again and had her hair up neatly, not one strand out of place. Her persona was that of Remy again, and Donovan ached to yell at her to cut it out. How in the hell could he act as if he were a happy, goofy newlywed husband if she continued pushing his buttons? She sat close to him, probably on purpose and went on and on about the food. His parents acted polite but were disturbed. After all, she was acting like Remy, and they hadn't been impressed with her. He longed to dig his fingers into her thigh to shut her up. Of course, it wouldn't work, not with the woman being Jonella fucking Paxton. At one point in the evening, Pax finally stopped rambling, but only because she was drinking coffee [Donovan had learned that particular talent from his mother] and in the throes of some kind of mental orgasm. Donovan breathed a little easily and relaxed a bit. He had been stiff the whole afternoon and evening. He was guarding his 'wife' to ensure that she didn't start uttering a string of curses in front of his parents. At any time, she was bound to explode. She had to be going through potty mouth withdrawal. His mind began to drift until he felt Pax's hand on his thigh, drifting ever so close… He came back to reality with a start and covered her hand with his. His grip on her hand was tight, like a steel vise. There was a clear message in that grip: cut the shit. However, she didn't cut the shit. She wiggled her hand, worked it tirelessly, until she had it completely out of his. It finally reached its target and he grabbed it again, this time, holding onto her wrist. God, I'm going to kill her when I get her alone. I'll spend the rest of my life in prison, but it'll be worth it.
After fighting with her under the table for more than twenty minutes, dinner ended. Donovan about died when Pax offered to help his parents clean up. He had no intention of leaving her behind with them, but he had to put Stasia down for the night. He was gone no longer than ten minutes and he made sure he popped back into the kitchen as soon as he could. Pax was still helping with the clean up duties and the strangest thing happened. She was making his mother and father…laugh. Dear God. Please don't let her be telling crude jokes. Please don't let her be telling them things parents should never know about their children. Please oh please oh please. He was completely and utterly exhausted, but he couldn't rest until Pax went to bed first. However, he didn't know if he could make it. Perhaps he could trust her for a bit. She was acting relatively okay and his mother seemed to enjoy her company. Sighing, he had to give up. He said goodnight to everyone, Pax calling "will be with you in a bit, honey," in his wake. He grumbled incoherently and went into the bathroom. After stripping down, he turned on the water, waited for it to get hot, and he climbed inside. The hot water felt glorious beating on his tense muscles. Dear God, had anything ever felt so wonderful? When he fell into bed [face first], he thought he'd died and gone to heaven.
Pax stood looming over the small bed. Her 'mother in-law' apologized profusely for the sleeping arrangements, but Pax assured her that she didn't mind at all. Uh uh. No way. They were, after all, newlyweds. He was deeply asleep, hogging the entire bed [of course]. She approached the bed and lifted the covers. Ah, now how fair was this? He was wearing pajama bottoms. It would make her job trickier, but not impossible. She slid into bed, bumping him slightly. He grunted, cursing under his breath, and moved over as far to the edge of the bed as he could get. Thank God the thing was crammed up against the far wall. However, she was not deterred. She pressed her body against his, and he came awake with a start. Goddamn it. She was fucking naked. What the hell did she think she was doing? He didn't want to kiss her tonight, much less make love to her. She snaked her arm around his waist and glided her hand gently over his abdomen.
"Not tonight," he grumbled, "You are my headache."
"Ah, Fwankie, don't be that way," she whispered mockingly, her voice drifting down in his ear. "We're newlyweds. Newlyweds spend most of their honeymoon in bed. Didn't you learn anything from your first honeymoon?" Her hand continued to stroke his abdomen. She had yet to venture lower, she was waiting for that. "Come on, baby, don't you love me anymore?"
"I love you fine," he growled, "but cut the shit. Shut up and go to sleep."
Her tongue snaked out and ran delicately over his ear. "Come on, hubby, you don't mean that. Say it ain't so. Aren't I going to get my wedding night?" Her teeth nipped his earlobe, and she heard a sharp intake of breath. Hmm. She was getting to him, perhaps? "Come on, Frankie, make love to your little wifey."
"Would you please stop it and go to sleep," he demanded harshly. "Goddamn it, Pax, are you fucking cracked?" However, he wasn't in a big hurry to remove her hand or move away from her probing tongue.
"You wanted me the other day, didn't you? Why don't you want me now? Come on, it's…sort of legal now, you know?" She leaned over him a little and noticed his eyes were closed tightly. Her hand continued its caress over his lower abdomen. With a wide, arcing swoop, her hand suddenly and unexpectedly dove into his pajama bottoms. She didn't touch him right away. Instead, she moved her hand around as much skin as possible without touching him directly. She smiled when she noticed the harsh change in his breathing. "That's more like it," she whispered. "Come on, make love to your wifey, Frankie. I'll make you scream."
"You're fucked, Pax, completely fucked," he said, his voice not steady. "Stop and go to sleep."
"I know you don't mean that, you big hunk o' man," she whispered before darting her tongue over his ear again. "Let's see if I can work on that head…ache." She drew the pajama bottoms down the slightest bit as her hand finally fell on him. Her caress was loose, but slow. He was trying so hard to keep up the gruff exterior, but he was losing. "Oh yeah, that head…ache is going away, isn't it, hubby? Going away and bringing on something else, huh?" He took in a hissing breath. "Oooh," she said, "I heard that. Want me to stop and go to sleep now?"
His pulse booming at his temples, his erection throbbing painfully, he took her hand away and turned toward her. "No," he said, reaching for her.
She drew back out of reach, nearly falling on her ass again. "Not so fast," she said, her eyes twinkling evilly yet again. "I think your headache is contagious."
Just before she got out of bed completely, he reached for her again, catching her. "The hell you say. Your job is far from finished." She tried to get away, but his grip was strong, and he managed to drag her back. "Get your ass back here," he said. Pinning her beneath him, he parted her thighs almost ruthlessly. "You won't leave me like this again, not until the ache is completely gone."
"You're vile, Frankie, vile and disgusting," she said.
Her words were meant to be hurtful and angered, but they didn't come out that way at all. There was hunger in them, need. "Shut up," he whispered. "Just shut up," he said as his mouth covered hers. She made a small, yipping sound as he entered her.
* * *
The next morning, Donovan awoke alone. He sat up suddenly, a little anxious, and began searching for his pajama bottoms. He found them at the foot of the bed, ripped to shreds. Jesus Christ, what the hell were we doing last night? He threw them aside and dug out a robe. Before he did anything this morning, he had to check on Pax, to make sure she hadn't taken off after Keith Ahiga. He didn't find anyone in the house at all. Fuck. He put his hand on the doorknob when he heard low voices coming from the backyard. He stepped out onto the porch and found his mother and Pax sitting out on the covered porch swing, his daughter between them. When Pax noticed him, she gave him a lascivious grin and winked. Yes. She was still fucking with him, trying to dominate the battle. Even after a night of making love to her until he thought he'd die from fluid loss, he still ached to choke her. Sighing a little, he turned and reentered the house.
Donovan was just getting out of the shower and into his clothes when Pax barged in on him. Two things entered his mind at once. The first was to grab her, throw her on the bed, and show her who was boss. The second was to shove her up against the wall and strangle her. Which of the two did he like best? Hmm. He sat on the side of the bed and worked on buttoning his shirt. He couldn't look at her for a moment. She was decked out in 'normal' clothes again: modest knee-length shorts and a shirt tied under her breasts. Her wild hair was tamed and braided. He wondered how she had gotten her hands on so many 'normal' outfits. He found himself missing the severely short mini-skirts, and even the fucking spike heels. Jesus Christ he wanted her again.
"Did you think I split, Frankie," she asked, amused.
"I never know what you're doing, Jonella. I want you to be careful…"
She sighed. "I'm not going to do anything in front of your parents, Frankie. Fuck. Give me some credit. I thought I was acting fairly…"
"Psycho," Donovan said. "Don't play your shit with me, Pax, I've seen it enough to know when you're fucking with me. Cut the play-acting. You can be yourself, I want you to be yourself, just a toned down version. Is that too much to ask? Don't act like Remy. She's a completely different person than you. Her behavior, attitude, and style are not you."
"Does that disappoint you," she bit back.
He sighed angrily and stood. Before she knew it, he had her pinned against the door. "You want to know what disappoints me," he asked. "Do you? What pisses me off more than anything is your constant self-abuse. Whatever happened to you in the past wasn't because you're unlovable or ugly or vicious. Stop it, Jonella. It kills me to hear you so fucking down on yourself. Acting like Remy disappoints me, but only because I like you…no…I love you the way you are. This exterior is a mask and I understand why you wear it, but stop cutting yourself down. You irritate me, goad me, push my buttons, work me up so badly that I think I'll die before I let out the steam, but I love you. I fell in love with you, not some fake image, not some other mask that you're fond of wearing."
"You do know what you're getting into, don't you?"
He smiled a little. "I do. I've known." He leaned down and kissed her deeply. His hand moved up to cup her breast. "Should we…continue the honeymoon," he asked against her lips.
"You mean to tell me that after last night, you've still got enough in you to go again?"
He pressed his lower body into hers. "You tell me," he said, his lips nuzzling the side of her neck.
"Oh yeah," she said. "Have you always been this insatiable?"
"Mmm hmm." He worked the knot loose in her top and slipped his hand inside. No bra. She did love him, after all. He longed to rip her hair out of its braid and plunge his hand into it, but how far could they go before someone interrupted them? A quickie up against the door? He was certain they could pull it off.
Reading his mind, her hands reached down, but before she could lay her hands on his zipper, his cell phone twittered. Drawing away from her was the last thing he wanted to do, but this could be the call they were waiting for. Slowly, he pulled away and went for the phone before his voice mail kicked on.
"Donovan," he said.
"It's Cody, Boss, as if you wouldn't know. Would you like some company in Miami?"
He closed his eyes, relieved. Finally. "We have Raynor?"
"Yup. Apparently, the FBI has been watching him closely. He co-owns a bunch of clubs out there, but most of them are fronts for covert activities, money laundering, arms dealing, you know, the standard stuff. We heard the guy wanted to run for the senate next year. The club he uses the most is…South Valley."
Donovan closed his eyes and sighed deeply. They were just there. Fuck. "Very good. Thank you, Cody. Get to Miami ASAP and call me when you're settled in. Prepare the team, Jonella is on this one as well, at least on the periphery."
"Jake will be so pleased," he said amusedly. "See you shortly."
Pax was waiting expectantly. She watched Donovan snap the phone closed. "Well? Do we have him?"
He nodded. "We have him."
"What you said, Frank, about me being on the periphery, that won't work for me. If I see him first, he's mine. Do you understand?"
He stood and approached her again. Taking gentle hold of her forearms, he gazed down at her. "You are on the periphery, Jonella, and there you will stay. Your mental capacity to handle this is nil, and I refuse to put someone on a case who cannot deal with it and stay out of danger in the process. You will stay with me, watching and waiting, perhaps on surveillance, but you will not go out. I refuse to allow it."
"Frank, you don't-"
"No," he said, interrupting her. "We'll get him, we'll take him down, but we have to do it my way. Trust me. Put your trust in me, put all of it in me, and I'll do whatever it takes to help you. Can you do it? Will you do it?"
His dark eyes were boring into hers intensely, holding her captive to their warmth and their seriousness. Her first instinct was to lie to him, tell him what he wanted to hear, and then do what she wanted to anyway, but she couldn't act on that. He had laid so much on the line for her, and she was finally convinced, finally understood that he did love her. He wasn't just saying the words to fuck her or fuck with her mind. She wanted to see Ahiga squirm for what he had done to her son, but she couldn't break a promise once it was made, not in this situation, not anymore.
"I will," she said softly, "I'll do it. But you have to promise that you'll get him and make him pay. It was something I promised Lee over his coffin, Frank, and it's one that I want to keep, one that I must keep. If you can promise that, if you can guarantee it, I'll do whatever you want."
"There are no guarantees, you know this," he said. "What I can say is that I'll do everything in my power to keep you from breaking the promise you made to your son. Will that satisfy you? Is it good enough?"
She nodded. "It'll have to be."
