The Viper

by Velvet Vaughn

  Turning off the light, she ascended the steps and found both men sitting at the bar that divided the kitchen from the living room drinking, of course, beer.

  Ethan took the bottles from her hands and found a corkscrew. “Red or white?”

  “Red, please.” She thanked him and took a sip after he poured the liquid into a glass. It was delicious.

  Kellan had moved to the breakfast nook and they joined him. “What do you know about your sister in law?” he asked.

  “Next to nothing. Her name.” She’d been surprised when Robbie showed up with the woman he announced as his wife. The fact that he hadn’t invited his father to the wedding was another sin she’d never be able to forgive. It’d hurt Rob deeply.

  “You probably won’t be shocked to know that Vespa isn’t her real name.”

  Annabelle chuckled. “I’m not.” Though why anyone would choose it for themselves was a mystery, too.

  “She grew up Louisa May Milner in a slew of foster homes in Idaho. Never one of the brightest students, she barely graduated high school and then moved to Vegas. She changed her name to Venus Voluptuous.”

  Annabelle choked on the wine. Wiping her mouth, she said, “Classy.”

  Kellan smiled at her. “Right? She took a job in one of the bigger casinos as a showgirl.”

  “A politically correct term for stripper,” Ethan joked.

  Annabelle couldn’t say she was surprised the woman used those ginormous surgically-enhanced boobs to earn a living. And the poor grades didn’t shock her either. From the few encounters with the woman, she suspected the lights were on, but no one was home.

  “A couple of years later, she moved to LA to become an actress and changed her name again, this time to Vespa Valentina.”

  “She’s got a real thing for names that start with V.”

  “Seems like it. Before she got her big break, she met and married Robert Singleton, Junior. Other than taking off her clothes for money, her background’s squeaky clean. No tickets, no arrests.”

  “I’m guessing if she was an orphan, she doesn’t have any hidden properties.”

  “Good guess.”

  Ethan glanced down at his phone. “The California Highway Patrol just issued a BOLO on Robert and Vespa Singleton.”

  “BOLO?”

  “Be on the lookout,” he explained. “Rob’s a suspect in the shooting at his house.”

  She wished she could come up with an idea of where they might be headed, but she and Robbie had never been close, so she had no clue where he’d go. The timer on the stove dinged. They removed the dishes and created a mini-buffet line, filling their plates with an assortment of delicious food. They talked and laughed throughout the meal. When they were stuffed, they cleaned the table and loaded the dishwasher. Then they carried their drinks to the living room. Annabelle was shocked when she refilled her glass to discover she’d polished off the entire bottle. Both men had a wicked sense of humor and they entertained her with stories of their coworkers and their families. She couldn’t wait to meet them, especially Kai Costa, the boy who’d saved both his stepsister and the president’s granddaughter from kidnappers, and he was only ten.

  It was late when they said their goodnights. Ethan disappeared into a room down the hall and closed the door. Annabelle stared at Kellan, wanting to ask him to come into her room with her. “We should change the dressing on your wounds.”

  His fingers traced over the bruise on her cheek. “I’m so damn sorry you were hurt.”

  “You saved me, Kellan. If you hadn’t come for me…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She’d run from him and he’d come for her anyway. She looked up into his eyes. Mistake. His gaze held her captive. She felt drunk, not from the wine but from the whiskey brown of his eyes. Her breath caught when his head lowered and then he was kissing her.

  This was no sweet, friendly peck. This one was all consuming, the unleashing of desire that there was no hiding from. Her body ignited instantly, a raging inferno. She pressed as close to him as she could get and wound her arms around his neck. Breaking the kiss, he rumbled, “Not in the hall.” Then the world tilted and she was in his arms.

  “Kellan, your stitches…”

  “Are fine,” he finished before he attacked her lips again with a fierce growl. He kicked the door shut and then spun around and trapped her against it. She wrapped her legs around him and they both groaned at the contact. He was hard and judging by the feel, impressive.

  He dug his hands in her hair and tilted her head for a perfect fit. His tongue found hers and he showed her with his mouth what he wanted to do with his body. She was so close to exploding and he’d done nothing more than kiss her breathless. He leaned back and tugged her shirt off. She’d forgone a bra since she felt weird wearing Juliet LaRue’s undergarments. His grunt of approval had her smiling, but then he leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth and her grin turned into a moan of pleasure. He was a master, playing her body like the finest musician. His hips ground against hers and she was so close.

  “Come for me, Annabelle.”

  The husky words whispered in her ear set her off. Fireworks exploded and her scream was sure to wake the dead—or at the very least, Ethan. Kellan’s mouth covered hers, absorbing most of the sound. Her muscles turned to jelly and she felt boneless and very satisfied. He’d rocked her world and he was still fully dressed. Kinda pathetic, but she was too languid to care.

  He stepped back, causing her limp legs to fall from around his waist. She missed the contact of him at her most sensitive spot. When her feet touched the ground, she was sure her body would follow since she didn’t have the strength to hold herself upright, but she needn’t have worried. He scooped her in his arms and carried her to the bed, placing her gently down on the Egyptian cotton sheets.

  The flip-flops she slipped on after her shower were long gone. He grabbed the waistband of her yoga pants and eased them down, letting out a tortured groan. She’d gone commando, too.

  #

  Annabelle was killing him. Killing. Him. Her body was a work of art, all soft curves and creamy skin. He’d pictured her several times in his mind, but the mental images hadn’t done her justice. She was magnificent. Relaxed from her first climax, he intended to give her several more before the night was over.

  His brain tried to tell him this was a bad idea, but his body ignored it. Seeing her tied up and at the mercy of Bixby had sent rage through him, the likes he’d never experienced before. When she’d run from him, worry for her safety threatened to consume him. He’d felt like he couldn’t breathe. He could now, and he would take advantage of the fact.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she said, tugging at his t-shirt. Reaching behind him, he tugged it off. “Kellan…” She was staring at the bruise from the bullet. It was a riot of colors, but he didn’t feel it, didn’t feel any of his various aches and pains. Then her fingers trailed to the bandage covering his exit wound. He’d changed it after his earlier shower. Ethan’s stitch job was holding up, but after the marathon sexcapade he had planned, he might need Ethan to thread the needle again.

  If she was worried about his injuries, then he wasn’t doing his job. He pressed his chest against hers, the contact exquisite, and kissed her again. Long and deep. She rubbed against him, her nails digging into his back. He was so hard, he needed to free himself before the zipper left a permanent scar. Levering off the bed, he took out his wallet and removed the strip of condoms he stuck in there earlier. God bless Logan Bradley and his well-stocked medicine cabinet. Then he unzipped his jeans slowly so as not to injure himself. Annabelle pushed to her elbows to watch and he grew impossibly harder. When he managed to work the jeans and boxer briefs off, and don the condom, he glanced at her. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open and she murmured, “Oh, my,” without taking her gaze from his erection. It was the last straw.

  He wanted to go slow. Planned on taking his time to explore every creamy inch of her skin. With the finesse of a rutting bull, he
dove for her, earning a surprised laugh as she caught him. He smiled down at her and then she was kissing him, stroking her tongue along his. Using his forearms, he spread her legs and then slowly entered her, the feel of her silken heat causing his eyes to cross at the tight fit. She was perfect. Made for him. When he was all the way inside, he paused, letting her body adjust to his size, savoring the connection. He threaded their fingers together and trapped her hands beside her head. Then he kissed her again, loving the taste of her, the feel of her soft lips, the eager way she responded to him. He’d have happily kissed her for hours, but the need to move was intense. He intended on taking it slow as he eased out and pushed back inside, but his intentions were shot to hell when she wrapped her legs around him, the urgent sounds coming from her throat goading him beyond the point of no return. He couldn’t hold back. He wanted her too much and the feel of her was like nothing he’d experienced before. She matched him stroke for stroke. He knew they’d be good together—but not this good. He’d had frenzied sex, he’d had wild sex, he’d even had kinky sex, but never anything like what was happening between them right now. It was—cataclysmic.

  Suddenly it was too much. The feelings were powerful, overwhelming. He was close, so close. Then her back bowed and her inner muscles clenched him hard. Her eyes locked on his and something in his chest squeezed like a vise. He had trouble catching his breath. She looked as surprised as he felt. Then she tugged her hand from his and reached up to cup his cheek in a tender caress. It was his undoing. He let go, hurtling off the cliff to drift in euphoric bliss.

  #

  Annabelle wasn’t sure she was still breathing after the most spectacular, incredible sexual encounter of her life. She’d come apart not once, but twice. Fireworks were still bursting in multi-colored splendor and her nerve endings sparked like they’d been shot with a taser.

  Just looking at Kellan, she knew he’d be good in bed. With his muscled, chiseled body and movie star handsomeness—not to mention the fact that he could put porn stars to shame—he’d no doubt had plenty of willing women to hone his craft. And by gosh, he had polished it to perfection. She’d never felt anything like what she just experienced in his arms.

  She was too weak to protest when he eased out of her and left the bed, but he returned, slid beneath the covers and gathered her close. She snuggled against him, feeling safe and protected. Unlike the other night when he’d been in a drug-induced state, he knew what he was doing this time.

  Sleeping with him had been a colossal mistake. She already admitted to herself that she loved him. She wasn’t sure she could guard her heart now, knowing what it felt like when he moved inside her, the look on his face when he came. He’d become the most important person in the world to her, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kellan slid out of bed, careful not to wake Annabelle, as he’d done three more times during the night. He couldn’t get enough of her. It was like he’d been on a hunger strike and he’d been offered a prime seat at an all-you-could-eat buffet. He couldn’t turn it down. Apparently, neither could she since she’d responded eagerly every time.

  He hadn’t told her about the accommodations when they arrived at the compound later today. Though there were rooms available in the same building that housed his apartment, he planned on having her stay with him. His space was big enough for two. He’d already given Luke and Logan a heads up that she’d be bunking with him. After last night, would she think she had to sleep with him? He didn’t want her to feel obligated, though he was definitely interested. But he wasn’t moving her into his place for the sex. Keeping her with him was the best solution.

  He wanted to go for a swim or work out in the fully-equipped weight room, but the stitches were putting a crimp in his workout routine. He didn’t do inactive well. Maybe he’d try the stationary bike.

  After pulling on a t-shirt and shorts, he palmed his phone before he eased out of the room and closed the door. He checked his text and email. He’d set up an alert if there was a hit on Annabelle’s stepbrother’s name in any police records but there was nothing new to report. He and Vespa had disappeared.

  He made his way to Logan’s weight room. Ethan was already up and running on the treadmill. “Morning.” Ethan gave him a sly look but returned the greeting. No doubt his coworker knew what happened down the hall from his room last night. Annabelle hadn’t been quiet…not that Kellan was complaining. Her enthusiasm made him feel ten feet tall. Still, he didn’t like his transgressions to be public fodder. He’d slept with a client.

  “We all set to leave today?”

  Kellan climbed on the bike and gave the pedals a test spin. The movement didn’t pull his stitches, so he kicked up the pace. “Yeah. No sense sticking around. Singleton’s gone underground. No telling when he’ll turn up.”

  “If he’s on the run for his life, he shouldn’t have time to come after Annabelle.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  #

  Annabelle’s hair was piled under a straw hat and she wore a pair of black oversized Gucci sunglasses that covered half her face. They were at a private airstrip in Burbank, about to board a jet that would whisk them off to Indiana. The terminal was small, with a few people milling about. No one paid them any attention. She’d spotted an A-list actress and her professional football player husband surrounded by bodyguards as they made their way to the exit, two men pushing trolleys overflowing with designer luggage in their wake. She thought she recognized the founder of a popular social media app brush by her on his way to a private plane. At the sound of teenage girls screaming outside, she turned to see a group of four young men being hustled to an exit where a white stretch limousine was waiting. They were the latest boy band pop group with a hit on the top of the charts. Security guards were doing their best to keep the adoring fans at bay.

  When the COBRA Securities plane arrived and the door slowly lowered, she expected to see Wyatt Hollister, the man who flew Ethan to California. She’d only met him briefly before he collected Amelia and returned home. Instead, this man was five-ten or five-eleven, with salt and pepper hair and a friendly smile. His uniform was similar to the one Kellan wore the first time she met him: dark polo with the COBRA Securities logo stitched on the left side and khaki cargo pants. He looked professional yet comfortable, which had to be so much better than a suit and tie like the pilots wore when flying for major airlines. Kellan introduced him as Chet Rudd, the lead pilot. When she questioned him about Wyatt, Kellan told her that he was an agent first and a back-up pilot when needed.

  She was excited and nervous to meet his coworkers. The ones she’d met or talked to over the phone seemed extremely friendly and welcoming. She hoped she fit in since she’d be staying with them for a few weeks, possibly months.

  Kellan guided her up the steps and into the belly of the luxury aircraft. Though the color of the leather seats was lighter, the interior reminded her of Rob’s private jet. The last time she rode in it was when she quit her job in Seattle and flew home to take care of him. He sold it soon after.

  The men chose seats across the aisle from each other with tables for their laptops. She headed for the padded couch where she could stretch out. She’d picked a book to read from Jade’s impressive stash of romance and mystery novels. It was the latest thriller by T.A. Hudson. She’d been totally shocked when Kellan told her that the T stood for Taylor and that Annabelle would soon meet the author. She was married to one of his coworkers. As interesting as the synopsis on the back of the book had been, she couldn’t concentrate on the words. Kellan had been distant all morning. She’d woken up alone, but with a feeling of overwhelming happiness. She’d showered and headed downstairs to discover both men gloriously sweaty from working out. He’d smiled at her, but it was friendly, not intimate. Taking her cue from him, she’d been reserved. Did he regret what they’d done last night? Four times?

  As they packed up their belongings and placed the clean serving di
shes on the counter for Mrs. Hernandez to pick up, she’d casually asked him about accommodations once they arrived. Without looking up, he informed her that he planned on having her stay in his apartment. Her heart had leaped until he added that there was plenty of room and she’d have her own bed. Ouch. That stung. Did that mean he didn’t want to share a bed with her? And why did that bother her so much? She was his employer. He should be strictly off-limits.

  She closed her eyes and before she knew it, they were preparing for landing. Kellan told her there was a private landing strip and a hangar close to the compound. She glanced out the round window as they flew over the blue waters of a large lake and then they were touching down with nary a bump and rolling to a stop. Chet was an excellent pilot.

  She’d stashed her backpack in the front compartment. Kellan was already sliding the strap over his shoulder before she could take it from him. He motioned for her to precede him down the steps. Chet was waiting at the bottom and she thanked him for a smooth flight.

  He smiled. “My pleasure.”

  “Kellan!”

  Annabelle’s head swiveled to see two gorgeous women jumping up and down and waving their hands, much like the rabid teenagers surrounding the boy band in Burbank. Jealousy like nothing she’d ever felt consumed her, especially when he rushed by her to hug them. Was this the reason he’d been distant? He had not one, but two girlfriends waiting for his return? Disappointment overwhelmed her. How could he make love to her so sweetly and passionately when he had a harem waiting for him at home?

  “Uh, ladies,” Ethan called out. “I’m home, too.” He held his arms wide but they didn’t even spare him a look, so he dropped them and sighed. “Damn FNG gets more love than I do. He tossed his arm over her shoulder. Come-on Annabelle, you can cheer me up.”