Den of Mercenaries

by London Miller

  A part of her wanted to know now, so she could be prepared for whatever was to come. The dress she wore was entirely too tight to hide a gun, but carefully concealed in the messy bun she wore were two pins that were sharp as razors.

  Security waited for them at the bottom of the staircase, a wire wound around his ear. He touched a finger to it, his eyes darting as he listened, before he allowed them by.

  “You’ll do fine,” he murmured before they walked into the room.

  Yeah, she hoped so.

  A table was set up in the center of the room, a bar against one wall, the bartender standing behind it carefully wiping down the polished wood.

  Men in tailored suits were sitting around the table, drinks within reach as they all talked amicably until Kit and she walked into the room.

  Now they were looking at them, and Luna understood all too clearly what her role was to be this night.

  Eye candy.

  Sure, the men spoke to them both, but their eyes lingered on her, never going any higher than the low-cut neckline of her dress that did wonders for her cleavage.

  Some weren’t ashamed at all by their staring, even with dates at their sides.

  “Leave it to Nix to bring the most beautiful woman in the room,” a man said with a chuckle, and as her gaze shifted in his direction, she saw that it was Robert—Kit’s target.

  It didn’t seem to matter that the woman sitting in his lap frowned, glaring at him, though Luna didn’t feel much sympathy for her since she was pretty sure that wasn’t his wife.

  Robert Morrison was much shorter in person than she was expecting, five-five, if an inch. He wore wire-framed glasses that were propped at the end of his nose. And despite the way he wore his hair, she could still see the bald spot he was trying to conceal.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight, Dick,” Kit lied smoothly as he pulled out a chair for Luna to sit in before claiming his seat at the table.

  It was clear that Robert didn’t like that name, but he was smart enough to not call Kit on it. Then again, he seemed too interested in looking Luna over to say much of anything.

  “We landed a new contract at the firm,” he said with a shrug of his shoulder and a squeeze of the woman’s ass sitting in his lap. “I thought I’d celebrate.”

  “By losing all your money?” Kit asked with a quirk of his lips. “Doesn’t seem very much like a celebration.”

  Robert laughed boisterously. “Am I losing to you? Don’t forget, Nix, you may have a mind for business, but your poker face is shit.”

  Luna’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly she was wondering if they were talking about the same man.

  Kit’s poker face was better than anyone she knew.

  Which could only mean that if they played together before, Kit had purposely showed his hand, if only so Robert would let his guard down.

  “I’ve brought my good luck charm this time,” Kit said.

  “And what a charm she is.”

  Luna wondered if he even realized how smarmy he came across, or if he actually thought what he was saying was charming. It wasn’t what he said, necessarily, but how he said it.

  But she ignored him—there was nothing to worry about with Kit at her side, especially considering he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She wondered how he could possibly be winning when every time she looked up, his gaze was trained on her instead of his cards.

  Not that she was complaining.

  It was thrilling, being the object of his desire—especially in a room full of exceptionally beautiful women.

  Luna wasn’t ugly though she thought her eyes were a little too wide, and her chin a bit too pointy, but these women looked like they made it their job to look as attractive as possible—from the expensive dresses and heels, to the expertly blended makeup they wore.

  Yet still, Kit only had eyes for her.

  “A drink for the lady,” Robert said with a nod, setting a glass filled with a yellow liquid in front of her.

  She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his spot at the table, let alone that he had gone through the trouble of fetching her a drink. But despite the gesture, she didn’t touch it.

  “I—”

  “She’s not going home with you, Dick,” Kit said, his eyes finally back on his cards as he scanned what the house had laid out, then tossed out a few chips.

  “You’ve never been opposed to sharing before,” the man threw back with a sly grin, tapping his thumb against the felt of the table.

  Luna knew better than to react to the man’s dig, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what he meant.

  No, she knew what he meant—that was pretty obvious—but she was curious whether or not it was true.

  It was possible—he had told her there had never been anyone special before—but the idea didn’t sit well with her. She remembered all too well what it meant to be “shared” and the idea that Kit would do something like that … but that wasn’t who he was.

  She didn’t believe he would force a girl to do something she wasn’t comfortable with.

  He had shown her that.

  “Are you playing the game, or not?” Kit asked with a nod of his head at the table in front of them, but whereas his tone had been indifferent before, there was an edge now.

  “Of course, of course.”

  But he didn’t move away, not immediately. Robert lingered instead and for the third time that night, he touched her shoulder.

  “Is there anything else I can get you before I beat Nix, here?”

  Still trying to play coy, Luna smiled but shook her head—she didn’t even want the damn drink.

  Sitting his cards face down on the table, Kit turned back with a smile. He purposefully ignored Robert’s hand on her shoulder as he maintained eye contact with her.

  He cradled her face in his hand, his thumb sweeping over her cheek. “If he touches you again,” he said, that smile of his growing wider, “I’ll cut his fucking hands off.”

  Kit was smiling as he said it, as though he hadn’t just threatened the man—the words in Spanish for only her to understand.

  Luna didn’t think she had been more surprised, or turned on, by the promise of violence.

  And as though he knew exactly where her mind had gone, he gave an arrogant little half-smile that lit up his usually cold eyes. “I’ll take care of you later.”

  She couldn’t wait.

  “I raise,” Robert said as he returned to his chair, seeming a little miffed now, and tossed more chips into the pot.

  “You really are celebrating,” Kit responded thoughtfully as he picked his cards back up. “Your bid usually stops well before now.”

  The other man didn’t catch the hint—the knowledge that Kit knew what he had done.

  “Worry about your own money,” Robert said as he peeked at the house’s cards.

  Slowly, as the game went on, Kit’s chips had steadily decreased in number until he was down to four blue, seven green, and a handful of reds, but he didn’t seem bothered by his dwindling stacks.

  Robert’s good fortune had gone to the man’s head, and he’d become practically insufferable.

  The girl he had been sitting with all night was pushed to a corner, forgotten and ignored as he started to care more about the money he was raking in than her.

  It also didn’t escape Luna’s notice that every other member had disappeared, leaving only six people in the room altogether.

  But, with a glance in their direction, the bartender slipped out the door, and even the woman that Robert came with had ventured off, probably in search of something more excited.

  And now there were four.

  “It seems you’re holding a shit pot over there, Nix,” Robert called out with a tilt of his chin. “You’ve always been bad, but this is new for you.”

  “I can afford to lose it.”

  And just that quickly, as they laid out their cards for another hand, Kit lost once mor
e.

  Robert laughed as he swept up the chips, his gaze falling back on Luna. “Try again next time, Nix.”

  Kit laughed, laying a hand on Luna’s thigh. “I guess that’s game for me.”

  “There’s still something of value you can bid, if you wanted—something more valuable.”

  “You’re asking for Luna,” Kit said without any inflection to his words. “But there’s nothing of yours that’s worth half of her, so why would I agree to that ridiculous wager?”

  “Then name your price,” Robert said gesturing to his chips. “I have a million dollars here, easy.”

  “And what do you think, Luna?” Kit asked smiling at her. “Should I take that bet?”

  “What are you asking her for?” Robert asked with frown. “Her opinion on it doesn’t matter.”

  “Do you trust me, Luna?” Kit asked her, ignoring Robert’s outburst.

  “Of course.” Not just in this, but everything.

  “Alright, Dick, I’ll see your offer.”

  As the dealer shuffled, then passed them their cards, Kit turned in his seat to better face Robert. “How’s the construction business, Dick?”

  “Really fucking good,” he shot back with a laugh. “Or have you not been paying attention?”

  “Curious that you can afford this game on your salary.”

  This time the pointed remark penetrated. Robert had a beer bottle in hand, tipping it to his lips when he processed Kit’s words.

  “Like I said, a lucky year.”

  “Not too lucky, I don’t think. The firm is in the red this year, or didn’t you realize just how big of a hole you dug once you started embezzling.”

  It was so quiet in the room, Luna could almost hear the stutter of Robert’s heart as he came out of the fog he was under. He was only now realizing how empty the room was.

  “What makes—”

  “That wasn’t a question, Dick. I know you’ve been embezzling, though you did quite well in hiding it, but you took too much for it to go unnoticed.”

  Robert swallowed, his cards forgotten. “I can pay it back. Right now, I’ll pay back every dime.”

  “Edward told you to pay it back months ago, and yet here we sit.”

  “I-I didn’t have it then,” he said with an almost involuntary shake of his head. “I have it now.”

  Kit tapped his card with a finger. “You sure about that?”

  Robert may have nodded, but the uncertainty on his face showed. “Flush,” he said displaying his cards.

  Kit made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. “Four of a kind.”

  Kit barely had his cards on the table before Robert was bursting from his seat and dashing for the door. He had a few seconds head start, but it didn’t matter—he couldn’t outrun a bullet.

  In one fluid move, before Luna was sure he could even get an accurate aim, Kit had his gun brandished and pointed at Robert a second before pulling the trigger, the silencer attached to the end muffling the sound.

  His hand had barely touched the knob before there was a hole in the back of his head and he was face down on the floor.

  In the blink of an eye, it was over.

  Luna didn’t even flinch.

  Chapter 13

  Luna’s feet ached by the time they were arriving back at the penthouse, to the point that she had kicked off her heels in the elevator and carried them as she stepped off.

  As Kit ventured off in the direction of the kitchen, she entered the bedroom, leaving her shoes by the foot of the bed as she climbed onto it, letting out a sigh as she stretched out.

  The heels were nice—beautiful to look at, but they were an absolute pain.

  They were momentarily forgotten when Kit popped his head in. “What time is it?”

  Though she found the question odd—he usually wore a watch on his right wrist—she still glanced over to the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. “Half past twelve.”

  It was the slight grin on his face that should have told her he was up to something, but she wasn’t thinking about that once he came fully into the room because her gaze snared on what he held.

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do this,” she whispered, though secretly pleased as she felt a tightening in her chest that only he could cause.

  There hadn’t been any time, or at least she hadn’t thought there was considering all he had to do to prepare for this night, but as he came toward her with a glass plate in his hands and a rather large square of chocolate cake resting in the center of it, he obviously had found the time.

  A lone candle flickered and danced as he walked, the flame casting a mute glow over his face.

  “Come now, when was the last time you were able to celebrate a birthday properly. You deserve this.”

  What could she say to that, that wouldn’t turn her into a blubbering mess?

  “Make a wish,” he said, setting it onto her lap, drawing back to gaze at her face.

  She didn’t have to think about what she wanted—she had it.

  It wasn’t the freedom that Uilleam had provided her, it was Kit.

  If she could pick one thing to wish for, she would always pick Kit.

  But she could wish that she could keep him always, so with that thought in mind, she smiled before blowing out the candle.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, the gratitude she felt bleeding into each word.

  “It’s the least I can do,” he returned with a smile, plucking the plate from her hands as he picked up the lone fork on the plate.

  But he had been thinking of her, even in the middle of his work. She had only told him the day before about her birthday.

  She loved him for it.

  Loved …

  Even as the word filtered through her head, she tried to dismiss it as quickly as it formed.

  She couldn’t possibly love him, but there was no other word she could think of that adequately described what she felt.

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  “Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t tried it.”

  He speared a bit of cake, holding it out for her with an unreadable expression, but it quickly changed when she leaned in and opened her mouth, closing her lips around it.

  His eyes were rapt on her, pupils dilating once she pulled away, chewing slowly. If she was asked, she wouldn’t be able to say what that cake tasted like, though she could appreciate the burst of chocolate on her tongue.

  For someone that showed very little emotion, she could see exactly what he was thinking now.

  She was baiting him.

  It was curiosity, maybe, that made her want to know what he would do once she pushed him beyond that careful control he was known for.

  “Good?” he asked, a hint of strain in his tone.

  “The best.”

  And as his gaze followed her tongue as she swept the last bit of chocolate icing off her lip, he’d had enough.

  As he set the plate down with little care, Luna froze in anticipation, shivering once she felt the heat of Kit’s hands as he undid the zipper of her dress, sliding it down as far as it could go, but he didn’t brush the sides open as she thought he would. Instead, he took a step back.

  “Take off your dress,” he said in a tone that brokered no argument.

  Kit had a tendency to demand things, always in that authoritative way that made her rush to comply, but now with lust threading through every word, it skipped her brain entirely and went right between her thighs.

  As she spun to face him, she slowly pulled the straps down her arms, his tantalized gaze following every new inch of skin she exposed. She’d never felt power quite like this as he watched her without blinking.

  Kit looked enraptured—and the sight of him like that was only made better by the rigid outline of his cock through his trousers.

  When the dress slipped free of her hands and dropped to the floor, she was acutely aware that she stood in front of him in nothing more than lingerie while he was still fully dressed.

>   He seemed to make a decision in his head as he came forward, turning her until she was facing the bed and pushed her down onto it. There was only a second to catch herself on her hands before he was positioning her the way he wanted—her knees on the bed and slightly parted and her chest pressed flat against the bed with an encouraging hand in the center of her back pushing her down.

  She should have been afraid for what he intended, knew she should be, but only excitement thrummed through her at the idea of what he planned to do to her.

  There was a moment of suspended silence before Kit said, “Not all pain is bad.”

  And as that dark promise hung between them, her fingers clenched harder around the sheets in her fists.

  “It hurts,” he went on, “make no mistake, but it’s a good kind of pain.”

  He was staring, she knew—she could practically feel his gaze burning a path down the curve of her back as his fingers followed the same route until he was at the curve of her backside, but he stopped there.

  While the tips of his fingers dragged over the edges, he didn’t delve any further, ratcheting up the need she felt for him.

  “You’re going to ache in the morning,” he promised on a whisper, “but it’s going to be a blissful fucking ache, you understand? And when you feel it, I want you to think of me.”

  His words didn’t startle her, instead they made the ache she was already feeling worse. “Please …”

  “Please, what?”

  Finally, finally, he ventured down further until she could just feel the slightest touch of his fingers against her covered sex—and when he pressed his fingers harder against her, the material of her panties rough but welcome, he groaned, a low sound that was enough to make her pussy contract.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, rubbing his fingers there, drawing a breathless moan from her. “I’ll give you what you need.”

  But as quickly as those words left his mouth, he was removing his touch entirely as he shifted and disappeared out of her sight.

  “Manners maketh man, yes?”

  She didn’t know what he was going on about, her mind clouded with lust as she concentrated more on the aching spot he’d left abandoned.