by Ace Gray
“Don’t,” I whispered.
“Don’t touch you? I know. Oh, my God, do I know. I’m so sorry.” She trembled in a way I’d never seen Elle do before. She was afraid.
“No,” I said softly as I stepped back over to her. “I meant don’t let go. Ever.”
“But I hurt you.” Her bottom lip quivered.
“I like to think you reminded me that this is real.” I took her hands and placed them back on my hips before I reached up and locked onto her neck.
I yanked her roughly to me. My body could bitch and moan at the way I was making it work but I wouldn’t stop. Not until I was buried deep inside her. I was fucking her here and now, on an art desk, with the hope that graphite and ink ended up on her skin. Maybe some lucky bastard would see us through the big storefront windows.
“Cole,” she purred against my lips when I finally let her come up for air.
I wrapped around her, kissing down her neck as my hands slid up underneath the short dress she’d picked. I squeezed roughly on her ass then kneaded it in time with the flicks of my tongue across the seam of her mouth. My fingers wandered along the curve of her thigh and tucked in between her legs.
She was wet, so fucking wet. I knew why her legs brushed against each other, making for an irresistible little wiggle against me. It was a dance her body couldn’t help but do for me.
“Fucking shit, Ladyface.”
“I can’t help it,” she moaned almost in defense of herself.
“Thank God.”
I cut my own words short as I latched back onto her lips and dug into her throat. As soon as she started moving her mouth against me, I slid my fingers up into her. I spun them around inside her. The tightness and little dips and waves against my fingers were starting to become familiar. With Elle that didn’t make her boring, it didn’t make me tired. I just wanted to explore every other inch of her so I could trace them in my sleep.
My fingers pushed deeper into her and she swore under her breath. There was the hint of something besides pleasure in her voice.
I pushed her back just far enough to study her face. She bit her lip and wouldn’t meet my eye but her hips bucked against my hand all the same.
“Something not right, Ladyface?” I searched her face for an answer.
“This is honestly the least sexy thing I’ve ever said to you, but…” she hesitated long enough that I pulled my fingers from inside her and tugged her lip free from where her teeth held it.
She gasped when my shiny fingers touched her lip; her little tongue stuck out the slightest bit and tentatively tasted my coated fingers.
“Think you just made up for it with that little move.” I sounded like a wild animal the way I snarled at her, and honestly, with her, I was.
“I have to pee,” she whined and I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Not really my thing, but for you, I could maybe get down.” I softened my grip on her neck and let my hand trail down her chest.
She found a smile before capturing my fingers. She brought them to her lips and started sucking. After just one spin of her tongue around my digits, I pulled it free.
“I’m gonna come without you. Again. And I’d really rather not.” I turned her toward the back of the shop then swatted her ass to get her moving.
I watched her walk away, the black fabric of her dress hinted at the curve of her ass. The scandalously short length made her legs appear longer and the naughty schoolgirl socks just gave me ideas that would make a porn star blush.
As soon as she came out, I was going to wreck her. I wouldn’t stop until she couldn’t walk upstairs. I didn’t care if I had to call Horse to come over and haul us both up. I had to adjust my dick under the waistband of my jeans, the zipper getting too painful where I’d full-on tented into it.
The jingling of the bell above the door barely pulled me from the fantasy.
“You’re looking better than I expected, all things considered.”
That voice did though. It was a bucket of frigid ice water, not only because my fantasy washed away, but because of the very real shivers it sent up my spine. I turned as best I could, desperate to look like I wasn’t wounded but failing miserably.
“There’s the beating I heard you were handed.” Siobhan leaned against my front desk with her arms crossed and her eyebrow arched. “What I wouldn’t have given to watch you bleed.”
“Why are you here, Siobhan? What the fuck does Mickey want?” I let my voice boom through the room, praying that Elle heard me and that she had the sense to stay hidden at the mention of Mick.
“I’m not here on official business.” She lifted up from her perch and slithered over to me. I automatically took a step back. She followed me.
“Then get the ever loving fuck out.” I shoved her as hard as I could but my side ripped and roared with pain, leaving it little more than a halfhearted push.
“That’s not very nice.” She lunged at me, clawing her talons into my wounded side.
I screamed and when her grip didn’t lessen I collapsed to my knees in front of her. I couldn’t even react before she had her nails digging into my scalp and yanking on my hair. She had me where she wanted me, beneath her and utterly vulnerable. I tried to fight back as much as my body would let me but she simply rested her pointy-toed stiletto on my hip and pressed the wicked little tip into my side.
“Mick might believe you had nothing to do with our little toy disappearing from Seattle but I don’t. Not for a second.” She pressed harder into my side and yanked harder on my hair. “You’re hiding something and I’m gonna find it.”
She leaned down and the jostle on my side made me cry out again. Her devious smile spread across her lips, making them plump enough to brush against mine. I tried to jerk away from her touch but she folded neatly onto my lap. Her knee dug into my side keeping me at her mercy as she let her lips skate up my neck to the bruise on my chin. She bit down. Hard.
“Get the fuck off me, Siobhan!” My words boomed but they were riddled with pain and fear. What if Elle came out now? What if she saw?
“I’m gonna find her, Cole. I’m going to find her and I’m going to fuck you on her corpse.”
With those disgustingly twisted words still hanging on her lips, she kissed me. I did everything in my power not to kiss her back but she shoved her tongue into my mouth and forced mine to dance.
Whether it was five seconds or five minutes, I couldn’t tell. Siobhan’s erotic moans as she rocked against me seemed to tick like the hands of a never-ending clock.
One of her hands found mine and tried to pull it between her thighs. I fought her until she twisted her grip and grabbed my balls and clawed into them. My utter agony echoed through the shop.
“Touch me.” She bit down on the bruise on my chin again. “Stroke me until I come and we’ll call it even. You got yours in my limp body and I’ll get mine from yours.”
Every inch of me revolted against the idea. Siobhan made my skin crawl. I hated her as much as I hated being inside her, that had always been the case. But now with my Ladyface…
If Elle was heaven, Siobhan was the fiery version of hell Dante wrote about. And it was heaven that stayed on my mind. Even here, even now.
Elle was feet away, and every second Siobhan was here was another second that she might find Elle. She could get up, she could need to piss, she could just be her fucking crazy self. The danger that Elle in was as real as the pain zigzagging through me and the demon sprawled over top of me.
I was no savior but it was the only play I had that might actually save her. Siobhan hadn’t stopped biting into my sore spots or digging into the jagged bruise on my side. I didn’t move as I started a prayer to God. He had no reason to listen to me, I was sin personified, and I was about to touch a filthy whore, but it didn’t stop me. I could handle both his and Siobhan’s wrath if Elle was safe.
The moment I whispered amen as quietly as I could manage, I stuck my hand between Siobhan’s legs and started stro
king.
23.
Elle
The acid was coming up my throat in waves. Each time either of them cried out, Cole in pain and this random woman in pleasure, my insides knotted up and squeezed out more bile.
I’d heard Cole yell Mickey’s name and the hair stood up on the back of the neck. It had to be a signal. I went silent and pressed myself up against the wall next to the door sure that with Mickey Maloney, safe was better than sorry. When the next few words they exchanged were harder to make out, I pressed my ear to the door. I couldn’t make out every word but the ones I did catch were sharp, angry things. And after a few minutes, they were punctuated with Cole’s horrific cries. They were going to decimate me. My feet shuffled against the tiled floor, a reflection of how desperate I was to rescue him.
Until another set of cries mingled in with his.
Those sounds I recognized too. They were the unmistakable sounds of some woman’s orgasm. They were loud, exaggerated, gross porn-like cries.
Unless she’d come in with some silent third person, she was making those noises with Cole. Throwing up wouldn’t be enough to make my insides clean. Ever.
He’d told me this was a part of his life. Part of the life he was risking to protect me. I was disgusted when it was an abstract act, but now it was real and pure hate boiled in my veins. And at least some of it was directed at Cole.
I couldn’t help it.
His cries were obviously agonized but that didn’t stop me from feeling like he should have done something to stop this. Unless she was the size of Horse or as deadly as Mickey, he could have done something.
They went on and on, for God knows how long, and I could only slide down the wall and into a small little ball to listen. Listen as she crescendoed. Listen as he whimpered. Listen as my heart creaked and cracked.
Finally it ended with a giant screeching bang. The room on the other side of the door went quiet but I could still hear those calls echoing through my brain. I probably would forever. The tiny jingle of the front door bell was the only thing that punctuated the silence until Cole let loose an absolutely unholy bellow.
That sound would haunt me too. Loud, guttural, harsh but broken too. The tortured cry made the hair on my body stand on end and sent shivers up my spine. It would have garnered all my sympathy if I didn’t feel tormented and splintered.
When the room behind me stayed silent, I pushed up from the floor. I hesitated at the door handle. I didn’t want to go out there. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want to be in Chicago anymore. I wanted to open the door and go back in time to the moment I saw a hot dude in the SeaTac terminal. This time I’d arch my eyebrow, undress him with my eyes and return to my book.
But I’d made my bed that day and now I had to lie in it. Or however sex in an airplane bathroom made that saying go. I opened the door and rounded the corner back into the main room of the shop.
I had to hold myself back from running to Cole.
The figure slumped on its knees was hunched awkwardly. If Cole hadn’t been breathing raggedly, I would have thought he was a corpse left to die as blood trickled from his chin. His hair was disheveled enough that I saw claw marks running down his scalp.
“Are you okay?” My voice shook all on its own.
“No,” he answered bluntly in a low, rough voice.
I stepped toward him, now more worried about getting him to the hospital than dealing with the emotional shit we were going to have to wade through.
Harlot red lipstick colored his neck and his jaw. I swore I’d never wear the shade again as the bile rose in my throat all over again. I stepped in front of him to find his chin was split in the center of the bruise he’d already worn; that was where the drip of blood came from. I stood there, a step away from him, taking in the destroyed man before me, but I couldn’t make myself reach for him.
“You heard?” His voice was a sharp but shattered piece of glass. I didn’t bother answering, at least not in so many words.
“This is the life I’ve signed up for?” I asked, my voice still a reflection of my tumultuous insides.
“You didn’t sign up for anything. But this is my life.” He sagged further.
“So if I want you—”
“Why in the fuck would you? I was damaged goods long before this.” He raised his hands up to cradle his face and cried out something jagged and awful in pain.
“I’m no prize either,” I murmured. “I tried to run from my family but they’re catching up to me regardless. If it weren’t for you…” I couldn’t bring myself to list the things I knew he’d saved me from. “Mickey Maloney would already have me.”
I swallowed the lump of truth like a sour lemon. He’d done everything, including that woman minutes ago, in an effort to protect me.
“You’re not a prize, Elle, you’re the holy fucking grail.” He finally looked up at me and something ghosted behind his gorgeous eyes.
He reached for me and I stepped back.
“I need you to not touch me for a little while.” I tried to soften my rejection. “I might get it but I just can’t right now.” His hand fell limply to his side and he winced. My heart thudded against my ribs but the reality of it all still wore around my neck like the lipstick on his. “Can I just go upstairs, for a while? Is that safe?”
He nodded and I turned to leave only for his broken voice to stop me short. “I have to ask you one thing first.” He was struggling to keep it together, compassion welled in my chest.
“Anything, Cole.” I was as soft and gentle as I could manage.
“Can you help me off the floor?”
My heart broke and I turned back without hesitation. As swiftly as possible, I bent and notched my shoulder in. I wrapped both arms around him and prepared myself to lift. He nestled into the crook of my neck and breathed in audibly.
“Cole,” I scolded then pulled as hard as I could.
His breath turned into a battered howl. My fingers curled into him as though I might lose him. He swayed before we got to a stool and even then I was worried it was going to shoot out from under him. I had to drop my grip to make sure the stool didn’t disappear. My body missed him immediately despite everything.
The bell on the door jingled again behind me and panic welled in my chest.
“Lucy, you got some ‘splaining to do.”
The ridiculous faux-lisp coming from the doorframe was the most comforting sound I’d ever heard. I spun and my hightops squeaked on the tile floor. I ran straight for the sound and let myself crash into Conrad where he stood by the door.
His thick, muscular arms wrapped around me and he bent down to kiss the top of my head. I breathed him in, happy to be wrapped up in the faint coconut smell of his hair products and the fresh deodorant that gave him a deceptively manly scent. I squeezed all the tighter as tears welled up in the corner of my eyes and balled in my throat.
“Hey, Belles, are you okay?” he asked softly in my ear as he matched my squeeze.
“You’re real, right?”
“Jennifer Grey’s original nose, baby.” He kissed me where his chin rested again.
“How’d you find me?” The tears were getting harder to hold back.
He pushed me back and quirked up his eyebrow. “We have a copper-haired minion of Satan to talk about.”
“No we don’t,” Cole growled from behind me.
“This must be Prince Charming.” Conrad’s voice went flat and lifeless as he narrowed his gaze and tucked me underneath his shoulder.
“Let’s not do this and say we did.” I gave Conrad a gentle nudge.
“What?” He batted his eyelashes innocently at me.
“Conrad, this is Cole. Cole, this is Conrad.”
“He looks worse for the wear, you guys been getting into kinkier shit than choking?” Conrad hadn’t lightened up much and I knew he was testing Cole. I thought about punching him.
They stared at each other, a weird warped mirror of the other. Both were inked up, blonde go
ds with trendy haircuts and big beautiful lips. But Cole’s were cracked and marked up and Conrad’s were perfectly cleaned and coated in his usual chapstick. Rough green eyes challenged lit-up blue ones across the room.
“Why don’t you tell me about this red-head.” I pulled on Conrad, bringing him deeper into the shop and seating him on a stool across from Cole. I stood in between them.
“She needs a dye job.” He rolled his eyes.
“Conrad,” I scolded him despite cracking a smile.
“Well, she does.” He crossed his arms and legs and pursed his lips. “And when a haggard red-head comes in demanding your bestie’s whereabouts, after said bestie disappears in the middle of the night without so much as a word, you hate her hair regardless.”
“You would have talked me out of it.” I crossed my arms.
“Damn straight.” He eyed me and then Cole. “I mean I’m sure you’re lovely in a thuggish, giant dick sort of way, but she shouldn’t be messed up in that organized crime shit.”
“Agreed,” Cole grunted.
They stared each other down again. Conrad kept glaring at Cole when he started explaining again.
“She was awful. Disgusting and foul and brutish. She went through your stuff, Belles. Destroyed a ton. I could have taken her but she pointed a gun in my face. I had to let her.”
“Awful, disgusting, foul and brutish are the nicest things anyone’s ever called Siobhan.” Cole’s lips thinned further and his shoulders started heaving.
The name rung a bell. Cole had said that name right before Mickey’s, right before… I had to choke back something different than emotion this time. I probably would for the rest of my life.
“She was…” I tried to say it but my mouth still wouldn’t form those words.
“Just here,” Cole finished softly for me.
“Yeah, I know. When a tramp comes in like a whirlwind of vengeance the likes of which I haven’t seen, pointing a gun all willy-nilly, I may not fuck with her but I’m sure as shit going to follow her.” Conrad reached out and grabbed my hand. “I knew you needed me.”
