by Bijou Hunter
Sighing dramatically, I pat her hand. "I feel bad that I got off in the car, and you're still waiting for your orgasm. I promise to fix that injustice when we get back."
Saskia stares at me, thrown off by my lack of anger. She might know how to push my buttons, but I'm figuring out how to push hers too.
"I can manage on my own."
I caress my bottom lip and smile. "I'm sure you can, but I don't imagine you'd enjoy it as much. I still remember what your pussy felt like wrapped around my cock when you came. You weren't faking that."
"It's true that I enjoy sex with attractive men. I did before you, and I will after this job."
"Is this where I cry and beg you to stay?"
"I don't know. Maybe. You're a very delicate man."
Grinning wider, I take every insult as a sign of how badly she wants me. Saskia holds my gaze, daring me to be angry. No, not daring. She's fucking begging me to lash out.
"You moan in your sleep," I murmur. "Like you're dreaming of me fucking you."
"You or some other man. Lots of possibilities."
"Your cold heart can't be thawed then?" I tease, tapping her foot.
"Doubtful. I will sacrifice anyone to save myself. Wouldn't even feel guilty afterwards," she insists, staring hard at me.
"You know, I used to be an actor, so I could show you a few tips on how to lie better."
Saskia rolls her eyes. "This is just a job."
"Oh, I know. For me too. Part of the Ramsey contract came with sexual benefits. It's why I picked a chick as my bodyguard."
"You're not funny."
"You want to laugh though."
"No, I don't."
Smiling, I caress the side of my glass. Saskia's gaze fixes on my fingers before turning to my face.
"I like you," I say. "A lot actually but I'm not taking your shit sitting down. If you want me to behave, you need to behave too."
Leaning forward, she narrows her defiantly dark eyes. "You have nothing to offer me in exchange for my good behavior."
"I have everything. You're the one coming to the table nearly empty-handed."
"How do you figure?"
I wave off her anger and smile at the waitress bringing our food. After we're alone again, I cut my steak while Saskia pouts. As much as I want to console her, I know she won't appreciate the gesture. Even so, I still wish I could wrap her in my arms and kiss away her unhappiness.
"What do you see in me?" she dares after I've eaten half of my meal.
Wiping my mouth, I adjust in my chair and hold her gaze. "I see beauty and strength. I see untapped warmth hiding inside you. I see a longing to have more than your mother had. Mostly, I see confusion at who you are now that you've stopped being Little Maven."
"I'll always be Little Maven."
"To your enemies, but not to me. Deep inside, you don't want to see yourself that way either. Except without that label, who are you now?"
Saskia's cold exterior shatters for a second, and I glimpse a lost woman. She really doesn't know what to do with herself. I understand how she feels.
"Why do I have to be anyone?" she finally asks.
"After I escaped the cult freaks, I gave up everything in my old life. We moved back to Houston, and I stopped talking to the friends I made in California. I didn't want to remember any of that life. I hid myself away, and I was happy. When my therapist pushed me to face my fears, I fought him. I didn't want my old life. I have no urge to travel or act. I like my house. I like writing songs rather than singing them. The new me isn’t particularly special and he won’t end up on the cover of a gossip magazine. He’s happy as hell being nobody though."
Saskia leans back in her chair and hides behind her cold eyes. I know she's truly listening though.
"You can be anyone now. Your mother is dead, and the past is the past. You can start over again like I did. Other people do it all the time. My mom was a housewife and office clerk before she went to California to manage me. She didn't know about contracts and publicity tours. People treated her like a fucking nobody and tried pushing her around. Mom pushed right back. She isn't nearly as tough as she pretends, but she can be what she needs to be when the time comes. You can too. Little Maven was who you were. It's not who you have to be now."
Saskia picks up her fork and digs into the salmon on her plate. "Nice speech, but the past is never gone. You know that every time you wash your back and chest."
"Those scars remind me that I survived. When faced with death, I didn't fall apart. When you have a plush fucking life, you never know how you'll react to such violence. I kept my head and escaped."
"Killed one of them too."
I think of Dennis and nod. "Killed one of them too."
Saskia focuses on her food and ignores my attempts to restart the conversation.
"I don't want dessert," she says once the waitress takes her plate. "I want to return to the hotel and get on all fours."
"Of course you do. I want a piece of cake first."
Saskia actually fists her napkin as if wanting to punch me.
"Sugar will help me keep up my stamina tonight," I mumble, trying not to laugh. "You should see your face."
"You're being an ass."
"Yes, but you were being a bitch earlier, so it evens out."
Saskia twists her lips in thought before shrugging. "That's true. Can I share the cake?"
I nearly dive across the table and kiss her but know we're still dancing. Saskia wants to be cold and in charge. Considering she's her worst enemy, I refuse to let her dictate what happens.
Rather than revealing how badly I want her, I only nod at her question. I plan to keep things simple for the rest of dinner and the ride home. Once I have her to myself at the hotel though, all bets are off.
19
~ Saskia ~
Lost in Lust
Brad's strong fingers dance along my back during the ride up the elevator. Even grinning, I shove his hands away. He only smiles at me before hiding his face in my hair.
His easy affections addict me. I've never known anyone so willing to embrace me and smile so honestly. In my life, people hide and lie. No one shows their true self when honesty can lead to death.
Brad should hide too. He's survived all these years by keeping to himself and remaining locked away. The man has no reason to trust me, yet he hides nothing when our gazes meet. His touch never hesitates either, taking greedily instead.
The elevator opening thwarts my desire to climb into his powerful arms. Even with our rooms on a secure upper floor, I get edgy when I see a man standing down the hall.
With his face hidden behind dark shoulder-length hair, he retrieves a card key to enter his room. I press the button to hold the elevator doors open. Brad moves to walk out until I gesture for him to step back.
"What's wrong?"
"I enjoy paranoia."
Brad smiles and leans against the wall. "You're so sexy when you're professional. Painfully sexy."
Despite smirking at Brad's comment, I remain focused on the stranger fumbling with his card key. Nothing about him feels out of the ordinary, yet I refuse to look away. My gut never lets me forget that I'm on the clock.
The stranger drops his key and crouches down to pick it up. I keep my gaze on him and my finger on the door open button. I want to do my job, but my mind keeps lingers the flesh between my legs aching for relief. I imagine Brad and I disappearing into my hotel room for a few hours.
My mind clouded by desire, I nearly miss the stranger glancing at me. The moment he realizes I'm waiting for him is when I realize he's waiting for me. Our gazes meet for only a instant, but we both understand. Brad is unaware until I push him farther back into the elevator.
The man pulls a small gun while my new Glock 42 is already out. Normally, I'd shoot him between the eyes and end the threat. Fighting this urge, I aim at his wrist holding the gun. The bullet tears into his flesh, yet he gets off a single shot from his gun that goes wild.
Ru
nning down the hall towards him, I shove his larger body into the wall and kick the back of his left knee. The target crumbles to the ground while reaching out for me. I feel his long nails scratch at my leg before he hits the floor hard.
"Stay down," I order, pointing my gun at the muttering target.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Brad rushing out of the elevator. The big beluga's male ego insists he help me. While he means well, his proximity to the target sends my heart into my throat.
When the bleeding target reaches for his weapon with his good hand, I stomp on his fingers. Hearing his bones cracking, I kick away the gun.
"On your stomach!" I yell at the target and then focus on Brad. "Go back to the elevator."
Exiting her room and running down the hallway, Minka announces she called the police. All I need to do is keep the target disabled until they arrive. No one will die, and I won't be forced to answer too many questions from the authorities.
"Are you alright?" Brad asks, staring at where the target ripped my tights.
Brad's proximity sets off the target.
"Death to the demon!" he yells before lunging for me.
I nearly fall when he wraps his arms around my leg. Bearing his teeth, he's ready to bite into my calf when I pull the trigger. Fuck logic and the police. I'm Little Maven, and there's no way in hell that I'll allow a wild freak to bite me.
Yet the heat of his blood and brain matter splashing against my legs returns me to a reality where I'm retired and on a legal job in America. The cops can make life very difficult because I screwed up.
"Are you alright?" Brad asks again.
"You should have waited in the elevator."
Brad looks at me as if I'm fucking insane. He can't understand why I don't want him playing the hero. He's the client while I'm the contractor, but he still wants to save the damsel and win my heart.
"Get away from me," I mutter and walk to the now closed elevator.
Minka checks the target for a pulse, but she knows the headshot immediately ended the idiot's life. Even on accident, I know how to kill someone nice and tidy.
The police arrive with a burst of energy. They take my gun and stand over me while I sit on a bench in the hallway. I answer every question with as little information as possible, but they just repeat the questions, wanting more detail. I finally hide my face in my hands and pretend to be upset over taking a man's life. This lie makes them back off. After all, I am a petite woman, so I'll likely cry a lot soon.
The lie isn't completely untrue though. I'm rattled and can't settle down. Why do I care if I killed a threat? How many lives have I snatched away? I don't even know how many. What is one more?
I still find myself shaking.
Am I afraid of the cops? Or having my Visa revoked? Doubtful since I'm perfectly willing to go on the run, change identities, and return with false papers. The law means nothing to me. I've made my own laws for most of my life.
Yet I can't stop shaking.
Nearby, Brad leans against the wall and stares at me. His lack of subtly is both frightening and invigorating. He seemed so sweet when I first arrived at his house. Now he's a man starving for my attention. What have I unleashed?
In contrast to my edginess, Minka bounces around happily in the hallway. She allows Brad to answer a few questions before shoving him into his room. Once he's out of sight, she returns to entertaining the cops with her babble.
"Bites can be deadly," Minka announces to one of the officers. "She could have caught hepatitis, HIV, rabies, Ebola, or even the T-virus. Any of them are lethal."
The cop looks up when she mentions the T-virus reference. "Funny."
"Now if it was me," Minka says, stretching so her breasts jut towards the cop's face, "I'd have karate chopped him until he stayed down. Of course, I'm taller and stronger than my Leprechaun friend."
"Are you Irish?" he asks me.
"No," I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him.
"She's Ukrainian," Minka says.
The cop frowns. "Every Ukrainian I've ever met was scary."
"While they're not as bad as Russians, I wouldn't turn my back on her. I've heard she's a biter. Ironic, isn't it?"
The cops laugh at my expense, but I appreciate Minka and her ridiculous banter. She keeps them focused on her while I struggle to get my shaking under control. This fear and uncertainty isn't me. Brad not only infected me with lust. He's made me weak, and I don't know how to turn the feeling off.
20
~ Brad ~
Taking What I Want
All night, my skin crawls with need. Every hour, the desire owns me more. I even find my fists clenched as if ready for a fight. Except violence isn't what I crave. I only want Saskia, and I know she wants me. What in the hell are we waiting for?
Hours after the asshole's body is removed and the police leave, I ditch my hotel room and walk two doors down to Saskia's. Two knocks later, she opens the door, ready to give me shit for walking around alone.
"I never gave you any satisfaction. Get on the bed," I demand.
"Go away," she says in her rough little voice.
When she tries to shove the door closed, I step in the way and force my way inside.
"On the bed."
"No."
"I'm not leaving."
Saskia looks me over, and I wait for her decision. "Well you do owe me."
When she doesn't move towards the bed, I study her robe. She's naked underneath. All her pale flesh waits for me. I know without a doubt that she was in this room thinking of me.
"Take it off," I order once I shut the door.
Saskia stares at me with her cold eyes, but I know the truth. She's desperate to have me inside her. All night, she longed for this moment.
My finger tugs at the loop on the robe's belt. When the garment opens, my gaze takes in the sight of her perky tits. Her nipples point aggressively in my direction, having waited for me to notice them. Yes, Saskia's been in a state of heat since the limo. Dead freaks, cops, and lies did nothing to dampen her need.
I push off the robe and gesture for her to go to the bed. "Show me your pussy, and I'll make you come."
Saskia wants to say something nasty. She hates taking orders, but she really wants to come. Not once either. I see in her eyes how a quick fuck won't satisfy her.
Even wearing a frown, she walks to the hotel bed and climbs onto mattress so her pink pussy faces me.
"Do you tan?" I ask, unbuttoning my shirt.
"No. I burn."
"Good. I want your skin to stay milky white for me."
Tossing my shirt on the floor, I lean down and kiss her left hip. Saskia sighs as her pussy clenches.
"Your lips," I demand, walking around the bed and cupping her jaw.
Kissing Saskia, I consume her breath and leave her gasping when our lips separate. She grips the sheets and rolls her hips, needing relief that only I can provide.
"What were you thinking about before I knocked?" I ask, kicking off my shoes and stripping out of my pants.
Saskia turns her head and takes in the sight of me naked. "This," she says in a raspy whisper.
I suck on my index and middle fingers then slide them along the hot folds of her wet pussy. Muscles clenching, Saskia rolls her hips again. Her body nearly begs me to fuck it.
Holding her shaking hips, I slide the head of my erection along the dripping flesh between her legs. Saskia instinctively pushes back, wanting me to enter and own her. When I don't fill her body, she whimpers and glances back at me.
"Brad," she whispers.
My name sounds like magic, and I give her what she needs. The head of my cock forces open the folds of her pussy, finding hotter and wetter flesh. Saskia exhales full of relief.
Removing my cock slowly from her, I quickly thrust harder inside. Her body jerks while her pussy clenches. I caress her arching back and find a hard fast rhythm.
Saskia is close. Her pussy is blazing hot, and she bucks like a wild animal when my fi
nger grazes her swollen clit. Stroking the fleshy nub, I pump my hips faster and reach for her hair. She moans loudly when I fist a soft lock.
I've never in my life fucked a woman as hard and rough. My body is running the show, and I can only enjoy where it takes us.
Saskia groans deep in her chest when the orgasm hits her. I tighten my grip on her hair and press on her clit. Her body shudders from the pleasure. When I pinch her clit, I swear she comes again.
I never slow down. My hands explore with purpose, teasing and testing her body. My hips move unrelentingly. Cock harder than it's ever been, I relish her cries in a language I don't understand. Even without knowing Ukrainian, I understand she's thanking me for the relief. She's also begging me not to stop.
Once her orgasm passes, Saskia's hips steady their frantic movements and keep pace with mine. In disbelief that she takes so much of me into her petite body, I even wonder if she feels pain from the intense fucking. If she does, Saskia doesn't mind. She laughs when I slide my wet fingers from her clit to her rock hard nipples.
"I'm close," I groan. "I'm so fucking close."
Saskia clenches the sheets as if knowing I'm about to unleash into her. My arms wrap about her, keeping her steady despite the powerful thrusts nearly throwing her off the bed. As the pleasure builds and my balls tighten painfully, I lift her up and hold her in place while emptying myself inside her waiting pussy.
My hips move long after my cock softens. With her tight pussy, I don't leave her until I grudgingly lower her back to the bed. Saskia never misses a beat. Rolling onto her back, she stares at me. Face flushed, pussy drenched, and legs wide open, she's waiting for more.
Before she says the words, I crawl between her legs and take what she so willingly offers. Saskia whimpers and melts into a blissful stupor. Right now in this room, she has no past or future. The ice princess is gone. She's only flesh to be molded and pleasured.
21
~ Brad ~
Losing What I Need
