by LK Shaw
The man holding me jerks, and there stands Jacob, his weapon trained on us.
“Your men are dead or dying. Release my wife, and I may show you mercy.”
The whole building is on fire. Red and orange flames reach toward the sky, stretching high as though wanting to touch the stars. Smoke slithers like a snake above them.
“Mercy?” Mikhail scoffs, jabbing his gun into my temple. “I don’t need your mercy. I’m the one with the advantage here.”
“Dead men don’t have advantages.”
A shot rings out, and I scream. The hold around my throat loosens, and I’m knocked to the ground. A heavy weight lands on my legs. I twist and scramble away from the body half lying on me. Hands reach for me. I blindly punch, crying out, until strong arms bind my wrists.
“Brenna,” Jacob yells.
I jerk my head up. I burst into tears as he gently helps me to my feet. He wraps me in his arms. I clutch him tightly, sobbing into his chest. I don’t ever want to let go. His embrace loosens, and I fight to keep hold.
“Shhh, baby, it’s okay. Let me take off my jacket. You’re freezing.” He shrugs out of his suit coat and throws it over me.
Shivers begin to rack my body. Jacob bends and slides a hand under my knees and behind my back, lifting me against his chest. I cuddle into his warmth, gripping his shirt tightly in my fists. My head rests on his shoulder. Tears wet the fabric. He carries me across the yard until we reach the car. My head jerks up.
“Oh, god, Gio,” I cry out.
“He’s in the hospital. The doctors think he’ll pull through.”
I sag in relief against his chest. Carefully, he maneuvers himself into the back seat, never letting go of me. I stay in his lap, my shivers finally subsiding. The ride is quiet. Jacob gently shakes me.
“Brenna, baby, we’re home.”
I open my eyes. Somehow I slept through him carrying me up to our townhouse. We’re sitting on the edge of our bed.
“I’m going to run you a bath and get you cleaned up. The syndicate’s doctor is on his way to take a look at your wounds. Make sure you’re okay.”
My head is already shaking. “No, no doctor. I just want to get clean, and then I want you to hold me. Please, Jacob.”
He stares into my eyes. “Okay. I’ll send him away when he gets here. Will you be okay while I get the bath started?”
I take in a shaky breath. “I’ll be all right.”
A kiss ghosts across my forehead. Jacob sits me on the bed and heads into the bathroom. I pull his jacket tighter around me and breathe in his scent. I look around and have to remind myself that I’m safe with my husband. Mikhail is dead. He can’t hurt me.
Before long, Jacob enters the bedroom again. I rise and he helps me across the room. He tosses his jacket on the floor and holds my hand to steady me while I step into the large garden tub. I settle into the hot water with a sigh. A splash hits my arm. Followed by another. Then another. I pull my knees to my chest and rock. Why can’t I stop shaking?
“Fuck, Brenna.”
Harsh noises come from nearby. A naked leg steps into the water next to me. Then I’m being scooted forward, and Jacob climbs into the tub behind me. He cradles my body with his and pulls me tightly against his chest. My back to his front. Strong arms wrap completely around me holding me securely. He whispers nonsense in my ear while I continue to cry. My tears run out and the water long grows cold before we finally rise.
As gently as though I was a baby, he dries me with a towel and carries me to our bed. He spoons me and pulls the blankets over us. My eyes soon drift shut. Just before I fall asleep, I swear he whispers one last time in my ear.
“I love you.”
I love you, too, is my final thought.
Chapter 31
Jacob
* * *
Like every morning since the beginning of my marriage, I wake to find my wife’s limbs tangled with mine. A few times during the night I’d had to reassure her she was safe. After discovering Paulie’s betrayal and gaining the location where the Russians were holding Brenna, I’d called her father and brothers. The Italians and the Irish together then descended like Hercules and Iolaus.
By the time the sun had fully set, the entire building had resembled a blackened and burnt out husk. The bodies inside reduced to nothing but ash. It would take years for the Russians to regain any sliver of power they thought they had. I planned on reminding them often who truly rules this city. With my wife at my side.
I lie in bed holding Brenna close, breathing in her sweet scent. She shifts and jolts awake.
“Everything’s fine,” I assure her despite the murderous rage that washes over me at her bruised and battered face. “You’re safe.”
“I was afraid you coming for me had only been a dream, and I was still tied to that slab.” She shivers and cuddles closer. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel warm again.”
“You will. It’ll just take time.”
She nods against my chest. A quiet settles between us. After a moment she breaks it. “I knew you’d find me. That’s what kept me fighting. It didn’t matter what they did to me or how they hurt me. I just had to keep being brave until you came.”
Jesus, Brenna’s words kill me. My brave little wife. I’m humbled by her faith in me.
“I told you. I’d kill anyone who touched you.”
“How did you find me?” she asks.
“Apparently my father’s consigliere had been working with the Russians. Once I discovered his betrayal, I…persuaded him to tell me where they were keeping you.”
Her head tips back and she meets my eyes. “By persuade, I assume you mean you tortured it out of him.”
I hesitate. I’ve sworn to be honest with her, and I’ve kept that vow. But should this be a burden of knowledge she carries? Brenna is stronger than people have given her credit for. I don’t want to put her back inside that protective bubble she despises. She wouldn’t want me to, either.
“Yes,” I say after a moment.
“Did you burn his tattoo off?” Brenna asks.
“Yes,” I repeat.
“Good,” she says vehemently.
I debate telling her the last of it, but it’s another truth she deserves.
“He’s also the one who killed Ellie. It wasn’t the Russians.”
“Then I’m even more glad he’s dead and buried. May he rot in hell.” She rests her head against my chest again.
God, I love this woman. “Why did you leave Divine?”
Her breath gusts across my skin. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have done it.”
I tip her chin up with a finger. Her gaze skates across my face before settling on the lower half of it.
“When I went to the ladies room, there was a beautiful woman in there. She told me that on our wedding night you met her at the club.”
My eyes close for a moment. Fuck. I open them again and stare down at her.
“Brenna,” I say, waiting until her eyes meet mine. “I swear on my mother’s grave that she lied to you. From the moment we were married you have been the only woman I’ve touched.”
“I believe you. She just took me by surprise. I’m sorry that I left without speaking to you, first. Maybe none of this would have happened.”
I shake my head. “If it hadn’t happened last night, it would have happened another. Paulie and the Russians were trying to break the alliance between our families. You were always going to be a target.”
“Oh, god, my parents,” Brenna gasps. “Do they know what happened?”
“They do, but they know you’re safe. Your father and brothers were at the compound with us last night. You can call them later, or if you’re up to it, we can go visit.”
She sags against me in obvious relief. “If my family was there, does that mean you destroyed the Hydra?”
“Every head cut off and buried,” I say.
She nods in satisfaction.
“I don’t think I’d survive if anything ever
happened to you.” I rub my thumb over her cheek.
Brenna lays her hand over mine. “Nothing is going to happen to me. You won’t let it.”
“You never cease to amaze me.” My eyes scan her face. “I love you.”
She presses forward and brushes her lips across mine. “I love you, too. More than I ever thought possible,” she murmurs against them.
I pull her closer and deepen the kiss. She meets me head on. It turns even more heated. Then, Brenna pushes me onto my back. Before I can guess her intent, she throws a leg over me and straddles my waist. She balances herself with palms on my chest. I stare up at her—this queen of mine—and grip her hips tight.
Sweeping her hair over one shoulder Brenna bends down and claims my lips again. The kiss goes on forever until she raises up. With an endearing lack of coordination, she reaches for my cock and lowers herself onto it with a sensual moan. I grit my teeth and try not to come. I sense her need for control. For power. I’m helpless against it. In this instance, I’ll grant it to her.
Her hips rock and my hands help guide her. She quickly catches the perfect rhythm. She moves over me, rolling her pelvis, creating her own friction against her clit. Her pace grows frenetic. I meet her downward thrusts with my own. A growl rumbles through my chest. I reach between us, fingering that tight bundle of nerves, and soon she throws her head back. Brenna’s mouth opens on a scream. Her release triggers mine, and I thrust upward, hard, my come exploding inside her.
She collapses against my chest, breathing heavy, and remains on top of me. Our bodies stay connected as her skin grows chilled. I pull the blanket over us and wrap my arms around her. We lie there, the scent of sex surrounding us. Her delicate fingers trace my ink.
“I think I want one of these,” she says. “Not on my chest, but somewhere.”
I suppose it’s only fitting. If I’m a Brooklyn King, then Brenna’s a Brooklyn Queen and deserves a crown of her own.
Epilogue
The door opens without a sound. I close it tightly and lock it behind me. The narrow corridor is lit only by two rows of tiny LCD lights along the floor like the aisle of an airplane. It smells musty and of earth. My leather soles tread quietly as I move down the slightly descending passageway. A cold rush of air skates across the back of my neck.
At two hundred paces, I reach a second door. Taking the key from my pocket, I open it to a large room. A barrage of Russian is spat at me from the woman tied to a chair in the center of it. She’s like a goddamn wildcat with her hissing. Behind the anger I’ve detected as merely a ruse, I scent fear. Pure, unadulterated terror. Because I’m the real predator here, and she knows it.
I lean against the door frame, arms crossed, while I wait for her to run out of insults. My eyes take her in for the countless time. Short, choppy blonde hair that looks as though she took the scissors to it herself. On anyone else without the elfin features she possesses, it could pass as a boy’s haircut. If her face wasn’t visible she could easily be mistaken for one. No curves to speak of. Stick straight from chest to hips with nearly non-existent tits. Despite this, I still want to fuck her.
Not because I’m attracted to her. But because the sick fuck inside me gets off on people’s fear. Smelling hers makes my cock rock hard. It’s the first time an enemy has turned me on.
“Are you almost finished?” I ask when she pauses for breath.
She snaps her mouth shut and glares at me. “Let me go. I’ve already told you, I don’t know anything.”
I don’t believe her. She knew enough about that compound to get Brenna out. Her being Russian makes her a liar. She knows something, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get the information I want. Even bed the enemy.
* * *
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THE ENEMY IN MY BED
Coming July 27
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Book 1 in the Love Undercover series
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Turn the page for a preview of Pierce and Mila’s story.
THE ENEMY IN MY BED
The Enemy in My Bed
Freedom is only a few feet away.
I can smell it.
Taste it.
The woman I’m trying to help stumbles alongside me as we rush across the yard of the compound toward the brick barrier surrounding it. Gunfire echoes around us. She freezes, then tries yanking her hand from mine, but I hold tight. We have to get out of here before Mikhail finds us.
“Jacob!” she screams next to me. “I’m here.”
“What are you doing?” I hiss. She’s going to get us caught.
The woman jerks to face me. “That’s my husband.”
She manages to rip her hand from mine and spins in the direction of the burning building. I turn away and toward the wall where I’ve managed to create an escape route. She made her choice. I can no longer help her. I must help myself.
Behind me, she screams in fear. I hesitate. Cursing my weakness, I whip around. Mikhail has captured her. She flails and kicks, but he’s too strong. Fury rushes through me. He will not hurt another woman.
“Let her go.” I pound on his back, my fists doing no damage in spite of my effort.
He pulls out a gun and rounds on me. My eyes close. Prosti menya, Anya.
“Nyeuzheli ti dumala shto ti tak lehko spasyoshsya, Mila?” His question is mocking and full of disdain.
Yes, I had thought escaping would be that easy. I’d planned it so well. I brace for the pain, but the bullet doesn’t strike me.
“Mikhail!” An unfamiliar voice yells.
I open my eyes. He is no longer looking at me. Instead, he’s focused on the other man who has a weapon trained on us. This must be the woman’s husband.
Escape. Now.
Thankful for the diversion, I rush over to the brick barrier and quickly start to remove the ones I’ve spent countless months picking and scraping away at. I’m almost there.
A giant hand covers my mouth and nose while a strong arm wraps around my waist, lifting me off my feet. I claw at the makeshift gag. He doesn’t even flinch despite the blood I draw. Panic sets in. I can’t breathe. Black spots dance in my vision. I’m going to die. Then the hand shifts lower, and I desperately pull oxygen through my nose.
My captor carries me, thrashing, across the yard. A gunshot rings through the air. I freeze. Is the woman dead? Or is it Mikhail? Did her husband take my revenge from me. My kicking resumes. The back of my foot connects, because the man holding me groans, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Several cars come into view. Men with guns surround them. I scream behind the hand, but none of them pays us any attention.
He says something to one of the men in a foreign language. Italian, maybe. The trunk of the nearest vehicles opens. None too gently I’m dropped in there, but before I can try and scramble out, the lid closes. Darkness surrounds me. Closes in on me. I scream at the top of my lungs. Panic rises. I’m suffocating. Being smothered. I pound on the metal above me. I dig at the seam. I push with everything I have. I’m trapped.
“Please,” I beg, no longer caring if I show my cowardice. “Please don’t leave me in here.”
I try to inhale, but my lungs don’t work. My eyes are open, but there’s nothing surrounding me except blackness.
“Please.” It’s a whimper, faint and choked.
There’s buzzing in my head and my heartbeat thumps in my ears. It grows slower with each passing second, until, at last, everything fades away.
***
I’m cr
adled against a warm chest. I snuggle closer, breathing in the clean scent of soap. My eyes flicker open, but it’s nearly dark. I close them again. The air around me is cool. I must be having another one of my dreams. Perhaps this man will keep the demons away.
Just beyond the fresh scent of the dream man is a musty, earthy fragrance. Almost pungent. I bury my nose deeper into his chest. He smells wonderful.
My dreams have never been this vivid before. At least not the good ones. The bad ones are a different story. I shiver.
We stop moving. A door opens, and we enter it. Against my will I open my eyes. In front of me is nothing but pitch black. To my surprise, I don’t fear the dark. It’s as though my dream man is keeping me safe. Protected against the monsters that lurk after the lights go out. He sets me down in a chair. His fingers lift my hand lying in my lap and he places it on the arm rest. Something drapes over my wrist. It tightens. I jerk upright. This isn’t a dream.
I struggle against the restraint, ripping at it with my free hand. He grabs that one as well and binds it to the other arm rest. Next, both ankles are tied to the legs of the chair. I struggle against my captivity.
Memories flood my mind. Fleeing the compound. Nearly escaping. The gunshot. Being captured. The darkness. It’s all there.
“Who are you? Why have you taken me? Where am I?” I rattle off the questions with a false bravado. How did I almost escape one captor just to land in the hands of another?
He doesn’t answer. The only sound is my own heavy breathing. The only movement comes from me. I still. Slowly, I inhale and then exhale. I cock my head, trying to catch a noise. Anything that would indicate my captor is present. The door remains open, which means he’s in this room with me. Somewhere.
I turn my head in either direction, pausing, straining to locate him. A dark shadow shifts to my right. I focus in on it.
