Swallow (Kindred Book 2)

by Scarlett Finn

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” the guy groping her asked and with one vice arm around her, he grabbed her face and forced her around to try to kiss her.

  Dipping back, she spat out at his face, and his surprise made him stop. “That’s none of your goddamn business,” she hissed.

  “You’re community property now,” the eager guy squeezing her said as he eyed her breasts. “You’re gonna have a great time with me and my buddies.”

  “Let her go,” Rigor said and curled his fingers around her wrist. The man embracing her loosened his hold, but turned to come in close at her back and hold her in place for the examination of his buddy.

  “My girls behave and they get treated right,” Rigor said. At over six feet and with noir hair, this guy was intimidating, but she wasn’t going to show him any fear.

  “You can kiss my ass,” she barked. “I’m not your girl.”

  “You are now,” he said, lowering to growl in her face. “And my men will take turns on you until you come to terms with that.” He was close enough that she tried to lift her leg to knee his groin, but he caught it and thrust it down. The snarl of his anger didn’t frighten her, and when he lifted his hand, she braced for the slap. But another hand appeared in front of her to block the blow, Brodie caught the wrist of her assailant before he could make contact.

  “You know the rules,” Tuck said from somewhere behind Brodie. She couldn’t see Brodie’s face, but she could tell from the glare Rigor’s wore that Brodie wasn’t smiling with glee. “You gotta give him one chance to win it back.”

  Rigor’s man was still at her back, so she was stuck here and while this close to Rigor, she could smell his conceit. “If he has something I want,” Rigor said, tugging his arm away from Brodie and backing away. “He has to be able to offer me something I want to make it worth taking the risk.”

  Her heart worked overtime, but her lungs were starved of their fuel because she was holding her breath, praying that Brodie could get them out of this. “I have one thing that you want,” Brodie said, staying at her side, though the man at her back held both of her wrists, so she couldn’t move or even turn enough to look Brodie in the face.

  Rigor’s eyes narrowed as his anger dispersed. “She mean that much to you?”

  “If she did, he wouldn’t have put her on the table,” Tuck said, coming in close to the group. “You know what we want.”

  The men all glanced toward the table, though she couldn’t be sure what they were looking at, all that she could see was a jumble of cash and items that she couldn’t identify beyond their physical properties. There were keys, but she didn’t know what they were for. There were papers and an envelope, nothing that she would think Brodie would value over her. Then again, she’d never thought he would put her into a pot before.

  Rigor whistled and looked toward the couches. “Clear out.”

  The men on the couches did as they were told and bolted, leaving her alone with Tuck, Brodie, and these two other men whom she didn’t know. “We talking indefinitely?” Rigor asked.

  Zara was lost, these men knew what they were talking about, but no one was being explicit, so she was in the dark. “A month,” Brodie said and Rigor scoffed.

  “Not worth it,” Rigor said, turning his lower lip out for a second.

  “You know it is,” Tuck said. “How many times you asked?”

  Rigor lowered his chin and curled his tongue in his mouth as if considering this abstract offer that she couldn’t fathom. “Three months, and I want both of you.”

  Tuck laughed and made eye contact with Brodie. They said nothing, and she couldn’t stop peeking at every face she could see in hope for some kind of hint for what Brodie and Tuck were doing. Tuck’s shoulder rose a fraction and Brodie set his sights on his opponent again. “Done,” Brodie said, but he didn’t sound happy about making the concession.

  “Ha!” Rigor called out. She was let go as the men all moved back toward the table. “High card wins.”

  Tuck gathered up all the cards and shuffled them before putting the deck on the table between Brodie and Rigor. “Winner cuts first.”

  He cracked his knuckles then reached for the pile of cards to cut the deck, he turned it to show a jack, and she curled her lips over her teeth to prevent herself from calling out. This was too much. Her life. Her freedom. Everything she was rested on Brodie’s card being higher and the odds of that weren’t in their favor.

  Tuck and Brodie looked at each other, neither looked at her. Rigor put the cards down and stepped back. “Give it your best shot, Raven… I’ve waited for this day for a long time. A long, long time.”

  It felt as though her body was frozen in a glacier, yet the thump of her insistent heart echoed in her ears. Her wide eyes were fixed on the deck and she almost didn’t notice that Brodie had looked her way. After a double take, her eyes fixed on his and he didn’t seem to be intending to do anything else until she did something, but she didn’t know what that was.

  Impatient, she just wanted this over with because she couldn’t handle the suspense, but Brodie seemed to be in no rush. “What?” she asked.

  “Come here,” Brodie said in a slow, deep voice.

  The guy behind her had let her go, but was still close. Still, when she moved toward Brodie, she wasn’t prevented from going. As pissed as she was at Brodie, she wasn’t going to argue with him in public because he was still the better option when it came to who she wanted to go home with tonight.

  She expected him to say something, instead, he took her chin, and with his thumb pressed to the front of it, he tipped her head up. “You’re a good girl.”

  Except she wouldn’t be if she was forced to go with this crazy person who had threatened her with his men. Brodie dipped and pushed his mouth onto hers and she opened in answer to his request for her tongue, because she hadn’t seen him for a week and she missed him, so her reaction was automatic.

  And yet, if she was told to go with the other guy, this would be the last chance she would ever have to kiss Brodie because even after she escaped the gangster’s clutches, she would never go back to McCormack manor, not after a betrayal as profound as this.

  “Come on, get on with it,” Rigor moaned.

  Brodie wasn’t great at following orders, especially from people he didn’t like, and she didn’t need a PhD in criminal etiquette to know that Brodie didn’t like this guy. He needed something from him. But Brodie didn’t savor doing business with Rigor, which made her believe Brodie enjoyed the idea of her going with Rigor even less than she did—and that was saying something.

  In his own good time, Brodie stopped kissing her and turned his attention to the cards. With one hand in hers and his eyes fixed on his enemy, Brodie reached for the cards and she chewed her bottom lip as she fixated on his turn. King.

  Shrieking, she bounced up and locked both arms around his neck, but she didn’t get the pleasure of his mouth because he was still fixated on the man who had to be spitting fury. Tuck was already gathering everything from the center of the table into a backpack she hadn’t noticed before. Nuzzling against her love’s neck, she kissed his jaw.

  “Nice doing business with you,” Brodie said, walking backwards toward the door as Tuck finished fastening the backpack. Brodie tucked her behind him, and she went after Tuck when he began to head for the door. Brodie didn’t turn his back on the room until they went through the curtain.

  Then they started going faster to get through the main bar and out the front door. Tuck was already straddling a bike when she and Brodie exited. Tuck tossed keys at Brodie, then gunned his own bike out of the parking lot without looking back.

  “What was that about?” she asked, when Brodie took her waist and lifted her onto the back of a bike.

  “Keep it shut, we’re not out of danger yet,” he said, jumping onto the bike and starting the engine. She didn’t have to be told to hold on to him tight, she’d done this enough times already, and the relief at being out of that dangerous situ
ation gave him a reprieve with regards to her wrath, for now at least.

  Something popped and metal tinged, the shock of it made her cling tighter to him. Brodie sped away, hunkered low over the bike and when she glanced back, she saw the men from the back room aiming weapons at them and there was a spark, then another. Brodie revved through the gate and over the bumpy road onto the concrete, then they were gone, out of the range of fire, and on their way to God knew where.

  SEVENTEEN

  The road was dark and there were no landmarks, but they ended up approaching civilization again and when they eventually stopped, they were in the parking lot of a single story sprawling motel.

  Brodie parked and got off, then took her from the bike. “Where are we?”

  “Stop asking questions,” he said, taking her arm to pull her toward the building.

  Lifting her arm out of his hold, she took a step back. “You just bartered me away to another man,” she said. “How do I know that’s not going to happen again?” Art had been impressed by her vigilance, and she wasn’t going to retract her wariness until she knew what was going on.

  “Because all the men in here would eat a bullet before they betrayed me,” he said, lunging forward to grab her again.

  Trying to wrestle her arm away, she didn’t get far, especially when he snagged her other arm and pulled her body onto his. “I’ll scream,” she said, still trying to pull away from him. Glaring up at him, she dared him to test her.

  Instead of answering her, he ducked and stole her mouth. When she tried to pull herself away, he grabbed her to force her to stay in his arms, to stay in his kiss, even when she didn’t respond to him. He shoved his tongue into her mouth, so she dug her teeth into him, but that only caused him to bend and pick her up from the ground. Pounding his shoulders with her fists, her bite became a suck and when her back hit cold concrete, she gasped to inhale the breath from his lungs.

  Tearing his mouth away, he nipped her lower lip. “When the fuck are you gonna learn to trust me?” he snarled.

  “You’re a fucking bastard,” she said, hitting his shoulders again, but instead of causing pain, it made him growl. The thick insistence of his dick throbbed against her dampening core when his body pressed her against the wall in this dark space that had to be a service alley for the motel or something. She could just make out a light somewhere behind him, but she was more interested in grabbing his face to pull his mouth onto hers again.

  He was a bastard, but he had to have had a plan. She did have to learn to trust him. Sometimes she struggled to remember he cared for her as much as he did, especially when he so often seemed indifferent.

  Spitting his mouth from hers, she scowled at his angry expression. “Get off me.”

  “Too late for that,” he said and relaxed his hips enough that she thought he might put her down. But with one hand between them, he freed himself from his jeans and used his dick to hook the crotch of her panties aside.

  “Don’t you even think about it,” she said when his blunt tip probed her entrance.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he said and with one hard shunt, he filled her up.

  With each advance, he jolted her body against the wall. This invasion was more welcome than any that had come before. His urgency and impatience to occupy her betrayed to her how he’d craved her and that admission by action only incensed her hormones into a deeper fury.

  Fighting his mouth with her own kiss. He pressed harder and thrust deeper. Grinding her fingernails into the sinew of his neck, she surrendered to her gratitude.

  So often with Brodie, her emotions were sent from one extreme to the other. She’d been so glad to hear from him and exalted that he wanted her with him and then so nervous to go into that bar. Her emotions were all over the place, the only thing she was a hundred percent certain of was her desire to be fucked and hard by her guy.

  His kiss drew back and when their eyes met, she pressed her palms to his cheeks. Her rhythmic whimpers were punctuated by the rush of air leaving her lungs each time he drove himself into her.

  The friction of their rutting bodies stimulated her into a climax that made her head scrape on the structure behind her as she bucked into the bliss of his body.

  Increasing his pace was a signal to her that he was building to his own release. Her slick passage burned in reaction to the abrasion caused by his bulk expanding her swollen tissues as they consumed his onslaught.

  Pushing up, she caught his lip in her teeth. “Don’t swear,” she panted. “We have to be quiet.”

  His sense was lost in the flood of their endorphins, but he surged forward and bared his teeth as air hissed out of him.

  Their huffing breath merged between their lips that hung only a few millimeters apart. He squeezed her ass so hard that she squirmed against the pain. But his dick was still wedged in her, so he blew out a sharp breath at her movement.

  Reconnecting reminded her of their dedication and she was sorry that she’d ever doubted his commitment to her. “I missed you,” she whispered, kissing him quick. “I missed you so much, baby.”

  “I should’ve said it,” he returned in a similar tone while examining the lips she smudged onto his. “Before we left the manor… I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  Skimming her hands down to his chest, she kissed him again. He might not be declaring his love now, but that he was acknowledging how he’d ignored her ‘I love you’ was as close as he’d come to saying the words himself. For months, she’d wanted to hear him admit his feelings, but this moment of vulnerability and the truth of his own frustration put his hesitation into perspective for her enough that she could enlighten him.

  “Because everyone you’ve ever trusted enough to love has left you,” she explained, understanding the cause of his reluctance meant she could no longer be offended by it. “Your parents, your brother, your uncle, you lost them all and you don’t want to lose me.”

  His pelvis crushed hers to the wall so he could keep her pinned with her legs locked around him. But he freed his hands to touch her cheeks and skim them down to seize her shoulders.

  The vehemence of his words made her shiver. “I’ll never let another guy lay his hands on you. For the ops, we might come close, but… I’ll never—“

  He’d been offended by her doubt and she was sorry she’d hurt him. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said, giving her a shake. “You don’t understand. I’m your guy. You’ll always be safe. Always belong to me.”

  Any panic she’d felt in that bar had upset him because he’d sensed that her faith in him had faltered. “Should we go inside and finish this?” she smiled, rubbing her hands over him.

  That they hadn’t been able to contain themselves for long enough to get inside to the bed he must have been using this last week aroused her all over again. He’d wanted her so bad that he couldn’t wait those extra few seconds to get inside her.

  “We can go inside,” he said, backing up half a step. She tugged her skirt down as he fastened his jeans and took her hand. “But we can’t finish anything.”

  Leading her around to the front of the building, he went to a door and knocked on it, which was odd if this was his room. “You don’t have a key?” she asked.

  The door opened and as Brodie took her inside, Tuck walked away from the door. The motel room was large, it had two double beds and a pulled out sofa bed in the far corner beside a narrow hallway that had to lead to the bathroom. A large table in the middle of the room was covered with papers that Zave seemed to be reading. Tuck went over to a seat at the same table in front of two open laptops. Brodie was busy behind her doing something with the door, but she crept closer to the table and saw that there was a map taped down to the table surface.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  Brodie came up and with a hand on the back of her neck, he urged her up to the table. “This is what we’ve been doing all week,” he said. “That’s a plan of the area.”

  There were stick
ers and Post-its on the table that said various things. She had no time to read anything, because Brodie snagged her wrist and pulled her over to seat her in a dining chair near the sofa bed. He backed up to perch himself on the end of the table and Zave rose to take up place beside Brodie. She shrank under the scrutiny of the men, Zave made eye contact and she shuddered.

  Tuck finished typing on one of the laptops, then closed both the lids and came over to perch at Brodie’s other side.

  “Ok, I feel like I’m in the principal’s office… times three,” she said, tucking her hands under her thighs. “Three incredibly hot and panty-melting principals, but still… what’s going on?”

  “We have your first official assignment,” Tuck said, all business.

  “Ok,” she said, scrutinizing the expressions looming over her for some clue as to what they were going to ask of her. “What is it?”

  Tuck twisted to reach behind him, he shunted something aside then turned back to her and held up a glossy eight by ten inch sheet. A picture. Of a man. And one she recognized as Benedict Leatt. She glanced at Brodie, but his expression didn’t change.

  “What am I supposed to do with him?” she asked, reaching up to take the picture so that she could look at it more closely.

  There was nothing particularly striking about the image. Ben had brown hair, blue eyes, and dimples that made him appear more cute than threatening. Wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt, he was just as she remembered him.

  “Get close to him,” Zave said.

  That could mean any of a number of things. She needed clarity and tried to be calm as the possibilities flitted through her mind. “To what end?” she asked, making eye contact with Brodie. “He has information we need?”

  “Access,” Brodie said and his stoic form was a world away from the impassioned lover who’d just taken her against the wall outside. “The number one thing we have to find out is where they hoard their hardware, their weapons and explosives.”