Claimed: Covet Book II Read online

  About the Author

  Anne McClean

  Claimed: Covet Book 2

  * * *

  Anne McClean was raised in Brooklyn, New York. She began reading at the tender age of 5 when she was given the book, "Aesop's Fables" as an early Christmas gift by a neighbor. Her love of reading blossomed and she became an ardent reader of all genres of books especially science fiction, horror, and romance. She lives in Brooklyn, New York with her husband of 24 years and their four children.

  Other Books by Anne McClean

  Covet

  Claimed

  Consumed

  Title Page

  Claimed

  * * *

  Anne McClean

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in

  a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  *****

  This book contains explicit sexual content. It is intended for adult readers.

  Copyright

  Covet Book #2: Claimed

  By: Anne McClean

  Book 2 of 3

  All Rights Reserved

  COPYRIGHT © 2016

  By Anne McClean

  Photo Courtesy of Shutterstock.com

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Dedication

  To Jeanie my Inspiration & Motivation & AllyCat for Sleep Deprivation

  - Anne McClean

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Author

  Other Books By Anne McClean

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  * * *

  At first, we Covet and then we Claim. The people and things we Claim are forever changed. They cannot go back to being the same once they are Claimed.

  Chapter One

  “Margret I’m so sorry for your loss. Can I take you out for a drink? I know it’s been a rough couple of weeks for you and your family. If you prefer we can meet someplace quiet…I know the perfect place.” Patricia put on her most lugubrious voice and it paid off.

  Margret agreed to meet her for a drink. They corresponded via E-mail for months and shared so much. Anonymity was one of the best aspects of the Internet. People would tell you the most private shit so long as they didn't have to look you in the eye.

  After the death of her husband Jake, Margret Macalister needed a real friend. Someone she didn't have to pretend with so Patricia was the obvious choice. They spoke online for months and she told her things she never told anyone.

  The past couple of weeks had been hell on Margret Macalister and her two boys. The death of her husband was initially shocking but was not surprising. Being his wife was not an easy charade.

  Their marriage had been filled with, its fair share of infidelity, verbal, and physical abuse.

  When the mayor and commissioner came to her home in the Hamptons to inform her of Jakes death the hardest part was not falling to her knees and thanking the stars above. She felt a twinge of sadness for her children. They will have to grow up without a father. But having no father was better than having that one.

  She played the grieving wife all too well. The years had taught her how to pretend. In the fifteen years they were married she turned a blind eye to the man/monster she was married to. In many cases, she was downright complacent.

  The countless affairs the long trips, the physical abuse and then the rituals with young virgin girls and boys began soon after. Some of the children were so young…. he liked them young. He befriended people with young children who caught his eye. People trusted him; after all, he was a congressman and a family man with kids of his own.

  He was careful to choose kids that

  wouldn't be missed, usually in impoverished 3rd world countries. They were brought back in his private jet and used in his sick rituals. He and his buddies raped, tortured and mutilated them without giving a second thought to the consequences.

  Fucking savages all of them. Then what does that make you? You knew and you never said a word. You remained quiet just to maintain your privileged way of life. Any of those kids could’ve been yours and they probably were. How many times were the boys alone with him? You knew exactly what he was and you did nothing to protect them or yourself. Lucky for you, he is dead now problem solved.

  Since Jakes death, the police had been a permanent fixture at her home. They questioned her about any potential enemies and, her whereabouts the night of Jakes death. Years of pretending taught her how to cry on queue whenever the questions got too personal she cried and the questions stopped. After all, she was a grieving wife. Eventually, the cop’s simply stopped coming but an unmarked car stayed parked outside her home for the family’s protection.

  It had been a month since the death of congressman Macalister. Margret decided she needed to get out. She had thought about seeing her new friend for months but Jakes untimely or timely depending on how you looked at it death put their meeting on the backburner. Finally tonight they get to meet, Margret was nervous. She had grown unusually attracted to Patricia.

  Like most people who engaged in online "relationships," she had unrealistic expectations. It was the rush and anticipation that kept the interest. It was the first time she "met" anyone online. The first time is always the hardest after that it gets easier.

  Margret decided to meet Patricia for drinks and hopefully a whole lot more at a cozy hotel a few miles from her home in the Hamptons. It was secluded so they could be alone for hours or hopefully the entire night without the scrutiny of the press or the impetuous security detail that followed her around everywhere.

  At forty-eight Margret was still a woman that demanded attention when she walked into a room. She kept herself fit and

  well groomed. She got dressed for a hot night complete with sexy lingerie and just a little makeup. Choosing sheer silk red spaghetti strapped dress from the enormity large walk-in closet, a pair of white Valentino heels and a matching clutch. She gave herself one last look in the full-length mirror before leaving.

  When she arrived at the hotel it was sparsely populated, Margret breathed a sigh of relief. Before walking in she wrapped a silk scarf around her neck and put on her sunglasses. She felt some kind of way being seen all dressed up to meet a woman but she needed the release. Even before Jakes death, she wasn't getting any attention at home. It had been months since they had sex, or fucked. Not that she cared.

  Jakes sexual proclivities had become more perverse through the years. He liked to fuck hard and in the ass. There was no more tenderness or caring in their lovemaking and she craved to be touched. This time with Patricia was exactly what she needed. She stopped at the front desk and retrieved the key from the concierge. She paid cash and

  signed in using an alias. The concierge gave her the key card and a complimentary bottle of wine.

  “It's a pleasure having you with stay with us, please enjoy your stay. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” His voice was upbeat and repetitive.

  Margret graciously accepted the items without say
ing a word then made her way to the private elevator to the penthouse suite. On her way up Margret couldn't help but contemplate the night ahead with Patricia. It wouldn't be her first time with a woman. She experimented in college with her sorority sisters. And many times afterward.

  She actually preferred being with women. Marrying Jake was a farce. It was what was expected of her not what she truly wanted. But now that her future was secure and the son of a bitch was conveniently dead she could pursue her heart's desire…meeting and fucking women.

  Although she never laid eyes on Patricia in the flesh they had spoken many times on the phone and exchanged body only nude photos no faces. She masturbated to pictures of Patricia’s body more times

  than she could remember. She was a specimen straight out of a photo-shopped magazine, flawless skin, perfect breast and a firm plump ass.

  Margret would often masturbate in the shower while thinking about touching Patricia. She even played with her nipples while talking to her. Her voice was so sweet and seductive that Margret decided she had to have her.

  She was deep in thought when the elevator doors opened to the penthouse suite. As she was getting off the elevator she was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of Patricia standing in the middle of the room with nothing but red 6” heels on holding a glass of brown liquid waiting for her. Margret was speechless; she was even more beautiful than she could've imagined long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and full lips.

  Her mouth began to water instantly as her eyes traveled down to Patricia’s bare pussy. It was definitely waxed. Margret licked her lips slowly savoring the anticipation as she removed her coat, scarf and shades tossing them impatiently onto the

  floor. She walked toward Patricia without uttering a word she took the glass from her hand and quickly downed the liquid in one gulp. Patricia looked down at her feet demurely and smiled.

  "So pleased to finally meet you, Margret," she said seductively.

  “Likewise, beautiful. It was definitely worth the wait.” Margret said as she looked purposely at Patricia’s bare breasts.

  “Oh look your glass is empty, let me refill that for you.” Patricia’s voice sent a tingling sensation to Margret’s pussy.

  Taking the glass from Margret’s hand she turned around slowly and walked over to the fully stocked bar a few feet away.

  Margret watched her in a trance. She was so perfect the thought of dropping to her knees and licking her cunt right there came to mind. Patricia grabbed the bottle of Talisker, an aged single malt whiskey and filled the glass half way. She turned to face Margret. Their eyes met, Patricia raised the glass to her lips and licked along the rim. She watched as Margret swayed slightly.

  “Yes, any minute now, this bitch will be mine.” Patricia thought almost giddy with excitement.

  She held her gaze as she closed the space between them. When they stood a breath away she handed the glass to Margret. Again she downed the liquor without even blinking. Patricia leaned in close and whispered against her lips,

  “Let us get you out of this dress shall we?” Patricia said as she glanced at the clock behind Margret. She knew it would take exactly one more minute for the drugs to work their magic on Margret, more than enough time.

  She laced her fingers through the tenuous straps on Magrets shoulders and pulled them down her arms simultaneously past her waist and ass and let the flimsy material fall to the ground revealing a white strapless Bordelle bra with matching thong and stockings. As soon the dress dropped to the ground Margret’s legs gave out beneath her.

  Patricia took a step back when she saw Margret beginning to sway. She didn't even flinch when the body hit the floor with

  a loud thud. Walking over to the bar she poured a shot of Talisker and lifted it to her lips…”Time to work.”

  *****

  Chapter Two

  After the phone calls Mya and Merrick turned to face each other. They both knew it was time to go even if neither of them wanted to. Both the phone call and Merrick’s proximity left Mya in a daze. She didn't realize that her robe was wide open. Merrick stood a few feet away looking at her naked body debating how much time they had. He could take her right now; bend her fine ass over the couch and fuck her mindless. Fuck! But it would be too fast. I need time with her. She is hiding something from me and even if I have to fuck it out of her, she will tell me.

  Merrick decided on a safe approach. Reaching out he grabbed the front of her robe and pulled it closed.

  “I’m assuming you got the same call. You should probably get some clothes on Mya, we have to go.” She was speechless as usual and hurriedly scattered away to her room.

  “But Mya, we will continue this conversation later.” He purposely emphasized the words as she dipped up the stairs and out of his sight.

  She stopped when he said her name but didn’t turn around. Her bedroom provided some semblance of safety from Merrick at least for the moment. Opening the door to the walk-in closet she walked in and chose a pair of jeans and a red cashmere sweater.

  No underwear as usual. After getting dressed she returned to the living room where she found Merrick sitting in dark with an even darker expression. She grabbed her black Gucci boots and walked over to where Merrick was sitting.

  “Ready when you are,” she said looking at the Merrick.

  Merrick turned to look at her, “Mya, can we talk for a few minutes?” She didn't think it was a good idea considering what just nearly occurred between them not to mention the lack of time.

  “We should probably…” She abruptly stopped when she noticed his pensive stare.

  “Sure, we have a few minutes, it’s not like the congressman wife can get any deader than she already is.” The comment managed

  to illicit a smile from him. Once she was within his reach he grabbed her arm forcing her to sit beside him. She exhaled sharply

  the long sleeves on the sweater did little to buffer his touch.

  Nothing got past him. He logged her response. He affected her yet she fought him at every turn. It started to gnaw at him. Why was she fighting this so hard? The attraction between them was obvious. If it weren’t for the fucking calls that interrupted them she would be in the thralls of at least her fifth orgasm right now. Fuck. The thought made his cock stiffen.

  Mya looked down at her hand realizing that he was still holding it. Her hand shook under his touch. She was beginning to fidget when he finally spoke.

  “Mya, I’m sorry about last night. I….hurt you and I didn't mean to. I had no idea that you were….”

  “Merrick, please I don't…I don’t want to talk about this. I…cannot talk about it.” She broke off his sentence before he could finish.

  “Why not? There is nothing you can't tell me, Mya. I know there is something wrong otherwise; you wouldn't have just left this morning without so much as a goodbye. I didn't mean to hurt you, Mya… It only hurts the first…”

  “Merrick, please!” She didn't let him finish. The panic she held at bay for so long was on the verge of taking over. Merrick realized

  how upset she was and decided this wasn't the right time, he needed more time to probe this subject but right now they needed to go.

  He stood up bringing her with him then hesitantly released her hand.

  “You are right, we should go, after you.”

  He gestured for her to go ahead of him. She took the opportunity to walk ahead of him. Stopping to grab her coat and keys before they left.

  They met up with Brian and some other key people before boarding a helicopter to meet the commissioner and police chief of Martha’s Vineyard, the latest crime scene. Everyone was erringly quiet, for some obvious and not so obvious

  reasons. First, it was a Sunday and no one was happy about having to work second, this death made the crime a possible serial killing. The last thing the city needed was a serial killer knocking off Politian’s and their families.

  Chris spotted Merrick and Mya as they walked into together and couldn't wait
to get the scoop. "Hey, lieutenant happy Sunday. Did you just walk in with Mr. D.A?” He asked sarcastically.

  Without looking at him Merrick answered curtly. “Yeah, I walked in with Ms. Anderson Chris. It’s a building and people are bound to walk into it together eventually.”

  Chris laughed, “Damn, I thought that maybe you two were…

  Merrick finally looked at his partner with a cold expression. He didn't want Chris getting any ideas about him and Mya. That type of gossip would spread through the department quicker than a cold.

  “No, we weren’t anything. It’s fucking

  Sunday man I was in the middle of watching a hell of a game when you called. I thought she was supposed to be the ball buster?”

  Chris laughed. Merrick was able to successfully segue the conversation by discussing the reason they were all headed to Martha’s Vineyard on a Sunday.