Best Laid Plans

by Stylo Fantome

Lily moaned and worked her hands under his wet shirt, dragging the heavy material up his body. He broke away long enough for it to go over his head, then his mouth was on hers again, and it wasn’t gentle this time. He gripped her head between his hands, pushing her back against the shower wall, his tongue diving into her mouth.

  “You know,” he breathed, his mouth moving down to her chest, kissing the tops of her breasts, “the bruises actually look kind of sexy.” She looked down, watching as his lips swept over a bruise in the middle of her sternum.

  “Shut up. You put most of those there,” she pointed out.

  “You made me put most of them there, and I’m sure I have more,” he retorted.

  “You deserved them.”

  “Shut up.”

  While he cupped her breasts and nibbled on her nipples, she yanked his belt apart. She didn’t even bother with his fly, just shoved her hand down his pants. They both moaned when she grabbed a hold of his hard on, her wet hand slick against his skin, sliding back and forth.

  “You know this is a bad idea, right,” she checked, her voice barely above a whisper as her hand pumped faster.

  “All I know is that if you stop, I actually will kill you,” he threatened, resting his forehead against her collarbone.

  “This is just sex,” she was reminding herself, more than saying it to him

  “This is just amazing sex,” he corrected her.

  Before she could say anything else, his mouth was back on hers, and he was pushing his whole body against hers, forcing her into the wall again. She couldn’t move her hand anymore, but it didn’t matter, because he grabbed her wrist and pulled her free of his pants. Then his hands were on her hips, guiding her out of the shower.

  They slipped on the wet floor, sliding into the wall in the hallway. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, hauling her into her bedroom that way, her legs dangling. Then he put her on her bed before he started peeling off his pants.

  “What if someone comes home?” she asked, leaning forward to help him tug at the wet material.

  “I’ll shoot them,” he growled, fighting to get his foot free.

  “I thought you only kill people who deserve it?”

  “If someone interrupts this, then they deserve it.”

  He pushed her away, causing her to fall back against the mattress. He got his other leg free and he kicked the pants across the rooms, then he stared down at her.

  “What?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  His voice was soft and simple, and it wasn’t exactly poetry, but it caused a pain in her chest. The way he’d said it, so candidly. Like he wasn’t used to seeing beautiful things.

  Like she was a gift.

  “Come here.”

  He practically fell on her, his tongue in her mouth before his knees had even hit the mattress. One hand was on the back of her head, holding her in place, and she felt like he was stealing the air from her lungs.

  They rolled around. She pinned him down, kissing his chest while her hand went back to his erection. He moaned, his hand moving over her own, showing her how to touch him. How fast to move.

  Then he shoved her away, forcing her onto her back, and he returned the favor. While his tongue learned the contours of her jaw, his hand trailed down her body. Scratched over her stomach. Slid through her wetness. He fluttered his fingers, playing her like a guitar, and she gasped, her hips jerking towards him. He listened to her body’s demands and two fingers thrust inside of her, immediately pumping away.

  “This is the second time I’ve had you wet and needy beneath me,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Count your blessings, it may not happen again,” she countered.

  He moved away, kissing her collar bone, then the tips of her breasts. Gentle, feathery kisses, all over her stomach. He took his fingers away and she groaned at the loss, then moaned in delight as he kissed her hip bone. Then the top of her bikini line. He forced her legs apart and she held her breath as he kissed the uppermost part of her thigh. But then he moved farther south, kissing and licking all the way to her knee. She began to pant and her hands went to his hair, trying to pull him back up her body.

  “What are you trying to tell me,” he breathed, moving to her other knee and sucking at the sensitive flesh behind it. She jerked away.

  “Please, please, I need you,” she panted. He lifted her leg, pointing it straight up, and he stood on his knees, dragging his teeth along her calf at the same time.

  “Need me to what?”

  He put her leg back down, as wide as it would go and bent at the knee.

  “Please, Marc.”

  “Tell me.”

  He repeated the same action with her other leg and she was completely open to him.

  “Please.”

  “You’re not saying anything.”

  She couldn’t stand it. She felt like she was going to burst. She moved her fingers to her molten hot core, trying to relieve the pressure.

  “Anything. I’ll say anything, just please.”

  “Still waiting for the magic words.”

  She had two fingers inside of herself. Her other hand was cupping her breast. She could feel his hands on her ankles, squeezing for a moment, then he was scratching his way up to her knees. Then back down. Her thighs started to shake.

  “God, Marc, please, please, just fuck me.”

  Apparently, those were the magic words. He grabbed her ankles and yanked hard, dragging her down the bed. She gasped, caught by surprise, and before she could even catch her breath, he was slamming inside of her. No pause necessary.

  She screamed, clawing her nails down his back hard enough to break skin. He hissed, then clamped his teeth down where her neck met her shoulder.

  They were both soaking wet, her in more ways than one, and their skin slid effortlessly against each other. She pressed her hands against either side of his face, kissing him the same way he kissed her, like he was an oxygen tank.

  “Fuck, thank you for this. What a way to end a shitty fucking weekend,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “It’s your fault it was shitty,” she breathed, licking her lips. He growled and grabbed the back of her knee, roughly yanking her leg up so it was pressed against her chest.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, swiveling his hips, his pelvis slapping against her ass. She shrieked in time to his thrusts, turning her head away from him.

  “Marc … Marc … I can’t … I’m about to … please …,” fully formed sentences were out of her reach.

  “God, yes, please, I need to feel this again. Your pussy is magic,” he swore, lifting his head to look down between their bodies.

  His words were too much. Knowing his eyes were on that most intimate part of them was too much. Just picturing him moving in and out of her was too much. She let out a sob, coming hard enough that she was sure her heart actually did stop. All of her muscles locked together in an orgasmic seizure, her body twisting away from him, away from the over stimulation as he continued to move his cock in and out of her.

  “Please, please,” she whimpered the word over and over again, though she wasn’t even sure why.

  “See? Pure magic,” he sighed, kissing her temple.

  He moved off of her, and she was too limp to care. He slowly moved her onto her stomach, and she didn’t care about that, either. But when his fingers dug into her back, massaging her bruised and aching muscles, she moaned, stretching out underneath him. He moved his hands down to her ass, massaging it as well, then he leaned down, biting the supple flesh. She laughed, then held her breath again when he hiked her leg up to the side. Held herself still as he entered her from behind.

  He took it slow, and she was thankful. Then, slowly but surely, her cells started to come to life again. She began to moan and move, working her ass back against his hips. He picked up on her subtle cues and began to thrust harder, faster. When she lifted her head t
o look over her shoulder, he reached out and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling gently.

  “You feel so good to me,” she moaned, meeting his eyes.

  “Good,” he grunted.

  “I want you to feel good, too,” she told him.

  He groaned and pulled harder on her hair, slammed harder against her hips. She went crazy, began spouting off all kinds of filth, saying things she’d never said before; begging him to do things to her that no one else had ever done.

  Before long, they were both completely drenched in sweat. He had moved her onto her knees properly, though keeping them wide apart. He put his hands flat on her shoulder blades, forcing her top half flat against the mattress, then he demanded that she touch herself. She complied, working her fingers around herself and him. His one hand moved to grip onto her ass, his fingers digging into her flesh in a way that she knew would leave marks. His other hand held onto her shoulder and he fucked her so hard, she wondered if she’d be able to walk in the morning. She screamed his name, her orgasm coming out of nowhere, it’s size shocking her. Her pussy shut down, completely immobilizing him. He shouted as well and jerked forward, coming in the next instant, so hard she felt every burst.

  “Fuck. I’m sorry, Lily, but … fuck,” Mark panted.

  “Don’t be sorry for that,” she breathed as he fell flat on top of her back.

  “I couldn’t stop,” he kept going.

  “I didn’t want you to.”

  “You’re too much for me.”

  “Likewise.”

  They laid that way for a while, and the same calm that had fallen over her the first time they’d had sex was back again. It was like after running a long race, then just laying in the grass. Every muscle, unwinding, pooling into lethargy beneath her skin. She’d been tired and run ragged for the last two days, so crazy sex shouldn’t have been a good idea. Right then, though, it felt like the best idea.

  Eventually, Marc rolled off of her. She moaned and pulled herself off the bed, dragging her feet as she went back into the shower. It was still running and she stepped under the spray, just to rinse off. But a minute later Marc joined her, saying he’d help wash her back.

  I should be dead tired! How can he make me want him so bad!?

  Despite falling in the shower, twice, they managed to come a couple more times before calling a truce. They seemed to be working out their demons by diving into each others skin, and she was fine with that – it seemed to be working. But she also needed to lay down and get the feeling back in her legs.

  “Where do you get all your energy!?” she asked, pulling on one of his t-shirts before she collapsed into bed. He came into her room, carrying a bowl with one hand while hiking up a pair of pants with the other. He left them undone and laid on the bed next to her.

  “Just blessed that way,” he sighed, holding the bowl out to her. It was full of dates, so she took one.

  “I could sleep for days,” she told him.

  “Too bad. You get six hours.”

  “Slave driver.”

  “You love it.”

  She cleared her throat, toying with her date.

  “What does this mean, now?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yesterday, we were ready to kill each other. Tonight, we just had sex for two hours straight. What’s tomorrow? Pistols at dawn?” she joked.

  “No way,” he started laughing. “I’ve seen you with a gun, you’d win.”

  “Probably.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything, Lily. It’s just sex. I like to fuck. You’re amazing. We both feel like shit – this made us feel better. Like I said earlier, we’re a good team. We particularly excel in this department,” he informed her.

  She couldn’t deny it.

  “Okay. As long as that’s all it is – we can’t do this again,” she stated.

  “That’s all it can be, and if you say so.”

  “I do. It’ll just make things worse. I only have one plan,” she started reminding him. “I have to get there, Marc. I have to kill -”

  “You really think you can pull that off?” Marc asked, looking back at her. He was lower on the bed, his head near her thigh.

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t handle earlier so well,” he pointed out. She kneed him in the shoulder.

  “I handled earlier just fine, it was the after I didn’t handle so well. During is all that matters. As long as I can get through it, which I already proved that I can, then I’m good,” she babbled, trying to convince herself more than anything else.

  They were silent for a couple minutes, Marc munching away at the dates. She fiddled with the hem of his shirt, staring at the ceiling.

  “You have to change your way of thinking,” his gruff voice cut through the silence.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re upset that you killed that guy.” It was a statement, and she nodded.

  “Yes.”

  “Because you think he didn’t deserve it. Because he was just doing a job. Because he was acting under orders. Because it’s a human life and that’s sacred,” Marc filled in. She was surprised; he’d captured her thoughts perfectly.

  “Yeah, all of that,” she agreed.

  “And that’s all true, but if you think of it that way, it’ll drive you crazy.”

  “I figured that much out, but it doesn’t stop it from being true.”

  “No, but think of it this way. How many people had that man killed? How many women had he raped? How many drugs had he sold? How many lives had he helped to ruin?” Marc prattled off questions.

  “But you don’t know if any of that’s true,” she pointed out. He burst out laughing.

  “You really are fucking stupid. Do you know what the gangs are like over here? Didn’t you listen when I told you what I saw in Liberia? There’s no law out here, sweetheart. If he’s in a gang, he’s done bad shit. Where do you think your diamonds came from?” he asked, glancing up at her again.

  “My … what?” she was caught off guard.

  “Those diamonds. Your precious passport to Moscow. So intent on avenging the unjust murder of your sister,” Marc said in a comically serious voice. “How many people do you think died for those stones? Those are the clearest diamonds to ever come out of the Ivory Coast, do you think they were taken willingly? No. They were taken from another outfit, who got them from somewhere else, leading all the way back to a mine. Who do you think works that mine? Happy little elves? Whistling away? Try kids. Sick people. Indentured slaves. And it’s not exactly fun work,” Marc enlightened her. She furrowed her brow.

  “That’s not my battle. I came here for one reason, not to save the world,” she snapped. He chuckled and tossed a date into the air, catching it in his mouth.

  “Now you’re talking like a mercenary.”

  She didn’t know whether that made her happy or sad.

  “That’s the goal, I suppose.”

  “So now that you’re on this road to a heartless act of violence, do you think you can go back to your old life?” he repeated his question from the other day. She sighed, rubbing her hands down her face.

  “I don’t know. I thought I could. After today … I don’t know. I can’t unsee all that. How am I supposed to go back to working in a bank?” she asked, spearing her hands through her hair. He moved and she heard the bowl clatter on the floor.

  “You don’t,” he said it as if it was simple.

  “Then what do I do?”

  “This.”

  “What?”

  “This.”

  It actually took her a second to catch on.

  “Keep doing what I’ve been doing?” she checked. His arm moved and he laid it between her legs, gripping her right foot in his hand and massaging her arch.

  “Why not? You’re good at it, obviously. You’re going through hell, and when you come out the other side, you’ll be even better. You can get paid a lot of money for the things you’ll be able to do,” he explained.
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  “But do I want to do those things?” she whispered.

  “You don’t have to kill. You can keep transporting. Keep laundering. Keep moving,” he suggested.

  “Hmmm,” was all she said in response. He cleared his throat, squeezing her foot.

  “How long have we known each other now?” he asked. She was thrown for a second and had to think.

  “I don’t know, like five weeks?” she tried to think back over the days.

  “That long? Jesus, think of all the naked time we missed out on. I should’ve fucked you on the first day.”

  “Shoulda, coulda, woulda.”

  “Know what the first thing I thought was, when I saw you?” he switched again. She smiled.

  “I’m almost scared to ask.”

  “I thought you were an escort.”

  She kneed his shoulder again.

  “Shut up.”

  “No, really. You were so clean, and so gorgeous. What the fuck was someone like you doing at a Bratva safe house, in Africa of all places? All that creamy skin, that dark red hair. Naughty accountant, that was my other thought,” he told her.

  “Pretty close. Naughty banker,” she corrected him, laughing.

  “What I’m trying to say is ‘badass bitch who will shoot first and ask questions later’ does not come to mind when someone looks at you. That’s good. You’re unassuming looking. You can go a lot of places a guy like me can’t,” he explained. She nodded.

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way. You do look like a badass bitch who will shoot first,” she agreed. His fingers dug into the bottom of her foot and she yelped, yanking away. Both of them laughed and he rubbed away the sting.

  “Exactly. Think of the damage we could do together.”

  Lily went completely still, soaking in his words.

  “What are you saying?” she asked in a low voice.

  “I told you – we make a great team,” he repeated.

  She sat up, looking down at him.

  “Are you serious? Are you asking me to, like, be your partner in crime?” she was shocked. He shrugged.

  “Sort of. I can help you, I can make you better. You can take jobs. If I need your help on something, I can call you. You need my help, you can call me,” he broke it down.