“The diamonds,” Marc sighed, turning to look out over the water. “A bag of rocks. All our problems. So many problems. Over a bag of stupid fucking rocks.”
“A lot of stupid fucking rocks,” Lily pointed out.
“Expensive fucking rocks.”
“Dangerous fucking rocks.”
“Come here,” Marc suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her around so she was in front of him.
“What?” she asked, holding still as he held her at arm’s length.
“You are gorgeous, I’ll give you that,” he started, and she beamed at him. But he didn’t stop there. “But you’re fucking temperamental. You think of the now, not the after. Getting those diamonds to Moscow, brilliant fucking plan. Did you ever once consider what would happen if it didn’t go according to plan? Cause it clearly fucking didn’t.”
“No. Because it had to work. I don’t think of things failing because I won’t allow them to. Like this plan – maybe it hasn’t gone exactly according to plan, but even the best laid plans can fall apart. You just keep going. Failure isn’t an option. Failure isn’t part of my plan,” she stressed.
“Your ‘Pollyanna’ attitude is real fucking cute, but it’s going to get you killed,” he warned her. She glared at him.
“Would it kill you, just once, to say ‘good job’!? To admit that I’ve handled myself just as well as you on this fucked up trip, if not better sometimes!?” she demanded.
“I would, but I hate to lie.”
“It wouldn’t be a lie, I’ve been just as good as you.”
“I can’t for the life of me figure out what you’re referring to. Unless you’re talking about fucking, then I’ll freely admit that’s one thing you’re actually very good at.”
She slapped him.
“That’s for being a dick,” she informed him.
“A slap? Really? Kind of a pussy move, coming from you,” he chuckled.
She pulled her arm back, ready to punch him in the throat, but he grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward. He twisted her arm behind her back, holding it against her spine.
“‘Pussy move’, being scared of a girl,” Lily mocked him.
Sometimes she wondered if fighting was like foreplay to Marc. Or maybe just being aggressive, in general. He seemed to like to pick fights with her, or just pick on her. Either way, it worked for him, so she wasn’t too shocked when he leaned down and kissed her.
“You are a pretty scary girl,” he agreed, letting go of her arm and working his hands into her hair.
“I take that as a compliment,” she assured him.
“I meant it as one.”
They stood still, pressing against each other, the waves coming in around their feet, soaking through her boots. She gripped onto his t-shirt, pulling hard on the material, wanting to be closer to him. Always close to him.
Why does this feel like goodbye? And why didn’t I plan for this? I never thought about what goodbye would feel like …
“So after tonight,” she breathed out, and he groaned, moving his lips down her neck.
“Seriously with the talking. Like two seconds of you not talking would be fucking amazing,” he told her.
“After all this,” she ignored him, then gasped as his hands dove into her leggings and gripped her ass. “After Liberia and Moscow and the diamonds …”
“Lily, if you say one word in the next three hours, I swear to god, I will drown you in this fucking ocean.”
Maybe fighting is like foreplay to me, too.
He picked her up, and she loved that sensation. She wasn’t a tiny girl, five-foot-seven, with lots of tits and ass, curves and lanky limbs, but Marc was always able to handle her like she weighed nothing at all. She wrapped her legs around his waist, coiled her arms around his neck, forced her tongue into his mouth.
He carried her across the sand, falling into the side of their cabin. He leaned his weight into her, pinning her in place against the wall. She pulled his t-shirt up in between them, working it over his head.
“Three hours isn’t that long. It’s not even … midnight …,” she panted as one of his hands worked its way under her own shirt.
“You can fill out a complaint form when I’m done.”
The door was a simple screen, and it banged shut behind them as Marc carried her inside. They fell across the room, crashing into the table. He sat her down on it, ripping her shirt over her head, then dove back in, kissing her hard, stealing all her air once again.
When she felt dizzy, she pushed him away and hopped off the table. While she fought to take off her boots, he dropped his pants. Once he’d stepped free of them, he grabbed her by the hips and whirled her around, slamming her down on the table top.
“Someone’s in a hurry,” she breathed, a little surprised by his force. He got her leggings off of her with one yank, dropping to the floor with them.
He kissed her calf, then the back of her knee, then the top of her ass cheek. Dragged his tongue up the center of her spine. Then he was pressed up against her, his mouth on her neck.
“Always in a hurry to be inside you,” he responded, then bit down on her shoulder.
While his teeth were still leaving imprints in her skin, his erection was pressing into her from behind. She gripped the edge of the table and gritted her teeth as it all happened in one go, his hips meeting her ass in one push.
“Jesus, Marc, you really are,” she gasped.
“You have no idea.”
He started pumping into her, one hand curling into a fist in her hair, yanking her up. She cried out, pushing back from the table. Pushing back against him. His free hand gripped her hip, hanging onto her. Grounding her. She needed it. He was fucking her into higher orbit, making it hard to remember what it was like down on earth.
“Oh my god!” she shrieked, unable to handle how deep he was striking. Loving how deep he was striking.
“You know there’s no real door, right,” he panted.
“Right, right,” she agreed, though she had no clue what he was asking. She would’ve said anything at that point, as long as he kept touching her.
“The whole top half is basically a screen,” he kept going, letting go of her. She fell down flat on the table top, and a moment later his t-shirt was thrown against the wall, landing next to her.
“Mmmm hmmm,” she moaned low in her throat.
“Everyone can hear you,” he warned her.
“I don’t care. I hope they can, I hope they hear everything,” she replied.
“God, you’re an amazing woman.”
He paused for a moment, then slammed back inside of her, so abrupt and so hard that it shocked her.
“Oh … my … god … yes … please,” she couldn’t unclench her teeth.
“Lily,” he growled her name, his hand going to the back of her neck. He held her down and used the leverage to thrust harder.
“Yes! Yes!” she shrieked.
“When you’re in Tangier,” he started, running his other hand down the side of her body.
“Please, Marc, faster,” she begged, and he complied.
“And when you’re in Moscow,” he continued.
“I’m so close,” she whined, then felt his free hand moving between her and the table.
“When you’re in those places, if you fuck anyone else,” he started, pulling her back towards him, his hand flat against her stomach and pulling her up onto her toes.
“No one else,” she told him, and it caused him to moan again.
“Never forget who made you feel this way,” he whispered, his hand slipping lower and lower down her body.
“I could never,” she assured him.
“Good.”
He jackhammered his hips against her, and she screamed. His hand on her neck moved to her shoulder, actually yanking her back against him. Pushing her down harder on his cock. She started to come, and in true Marc fashion, he just fucked her harder. Her whole body went into seizure mode, shaking and shuddering, all while one
of his fingers tapped along with her ticking muscles.
I wonder if I could ever pass out from sensory overload.
She went completely limp, and didn’t even care. They’d had enough sex for her to know that he didn’t particularly care, either. His hands on her shoulder gripped harder, painfully so, and she moaned.
“God, I’m gonna miss this.”
She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She could feel that they were both thinking it, could still feel that “goodbye” hanging in the air, but she hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment. Still, he sucked it right out of her, just like he always did with all her oxygen.
“Come here, move.”
She actually didn’t have to move. Marc simply backed away, dragging her with him, then shoved her onto the bed. She’d barely turned over when he was on top of her, forcing her flat as he crawled between her legs. Then he slid his hands under her back, holding on while he laid his chest on top of hers. They were just about as physically close as two people could ever be, in that moment.
“Hi,” she laughed, staring at him as his face hovered inches above her own.
“I meant what I said, you know,” he said, his voice soft. She was confused.
“When?”
“Your eyes,” he continued, as if that cleared anything up.
“What about them?”
“They are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he sighed.
“Really?”
“I’m going to remember them for a long time,” he assured her.
“I hope so.”
“I know so. At night, when I’m alone, in some kind of trouble that I’ve no doubt gotten myself into,” he started, and they both chuckled, “I’ll picture your eyes. Your smile, your body, your voice. But most of all your eyes. I could look into them forever. I’ll miss them. Will miss seeing you look at me.”
No one had ever spoken to her like that before, she almost wanted to cry. Then he started rocking his hips against her, but gently, and she did tear up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him completely flush against her and hooking her ankles together behind his back.
“I’ll miss you, too,” she breathed.
He whispered more words in her ear, words she’d never heard before, in a voice she always wanted to hear. He was gentle with her, in a way he’d never been before, with a touch she could learn to live for. And as he breathed life into her veins and new thoughts into her mind and different feelings into her soul, there was just one phrase repeating itself in her head.
“… we don’t have to be these people anymore …”
DAY SEVEN
“Alright?”
Marc was pulling a t-shirt into place as he walked up to Kingsley’s cabin. The British man was out on his steps, smoking a cigarette. He didn’t look away from the ocean, just repeated his question.
“Yeah, sure,” Marc replied, moving up so he was sitting next to the other man.
“You do realize that these shacks aren’t exactly insulated – not that it would matter if they were, I’m pretty sure they heard you all the way on the coast of Spain,” Kingsley assured him.
“Good. Something that amazing deserves an audience.”
They both laughed for a second before falling quiet.
“You’re making a mistake,” Kingsley’s voice was soft.
“I haven’t done anything.”
“But you’re thinking about it.”
“Look,” Marc rubbed a hand down his face, “let’s go over tomorrow. You and I are gonna go get some cars. I’ll come back and get her. And then …”
“C’mon, big boy, say it,” Kingsley urged.
“Then we’ll send her on her way.”
“Does she know about this plan?”
“She doesn’t have a say in this plan.”
“It involves her, so I think she should -”
“No one asked you,” Marc interrupted.
“You like her.” Kingsley made a statement. Pointed out a fact.
“Yes,” Marc didn’t deny it. Kingsley shook his head.
“So why are you going to make her do all this alone?” he asked.
“I got her through the hard part. Fuck, I am the hard part. I fucked everything up for her. I just made it worse. Today, when she was running for that car, all I could think was ‘holy shit, I’m about to watch her get blown up’. And I was scared to death. I’ve never been scared like that before, ever. If we hadn’t been fighting, if we hadn’t taken that road, if I hadn’t fucking gotten in her car back in Liberia … I can’t handle the thought of something happening to her, because of me. If I’m with her in Morocco, and Ivanov shows up, it’s game over. He kills us both. If I’m in Liberia, it’s just me,” Marc tried to explain where he was coming from.
“And you think that’ll make her feel safe and warm and fuzzy?” Kingsley questioned.
“I don’t care. It’ll keep her alive, and that’s all that matters to me.”
“You genuinely believe she has a better chance finishing this without you than she does with you?” Kingsley sounded amazed.
“Finishing it alive, yes.”
“Then you’re an idiot.”
“This shouldn’t be shocking to you.”
“De Sant,” the other man sighed. “I’m speaking to you as a mate, now. A partner. Do not do this. Women like the one asleep over there do not come along very often – don’t throw her back to the wolves. She needs you. And whether you want to admit it or not, you need her. This is the most human I’ve seen you, since I met you. You’ve let this job ruin you. Let her fix you.”
“And ruin her in the process? No thanks. I’d rather be alone and a wreck than be together and destroy her,” Marc replied.
“Stupid, De Sant. Very stupid. Your new-found conscience is going to get the both of you killed, and I, for one, will not stand around and watch it happen,” Kingsley snapped as he climbed to his feet.
“What? You’re leaving? Go for it.”
“Oh no, I’m not leaving. I’m going to be with you every single minute, from here on out, reminding you every step of the way of exactly how fucking ridiculous you’re being,” Kingsley broke it down, then he stomped into his cabin and slammed the door shut.
“You know it’s just a screen, right!? Kind of defeats the purpose of slamming it in my face!” Marc hollered.
“Piss off!”
“See you in the morning!”
“Not if I smother you in your sleep!”
Marc made his way back to his own cabin, dragging his feet through the sand. He was surprised at Kingsley’s outburst. He’d figured the seasoned mercenary would agree with him. Women were nothing but trouble, that was usually Kingsley’s opinion. It was obvious he and Lily liked each other – too much, in Marc’s opinion – but it didn’t quite explain why he wanted Marc and Lily to be together so badly.
He walked into their cabin, shutting the screen carefully behind him. Lily was asleep on the cot. It had cooled off to around seventy degrees outside, and before she’d fallen asleep, he’d given her one of his t-shirts to wear. She was laying on her side, her knees tucked up towards her chest, her hands underneath her cheek. It made her look young and vulnerable.
“Oh, Lily, what am I going to do with you,” he sighed, sitting down next to her. She didn’t respond, just mumbled in her sleep.
He smoothed his hand down her thigh, savoring the smoothness of her skin. Then he worked his hand up and under the shirt, memorizing the curve of her hip. Not that he could ever forget. He would never be able to forget Lily. Never forget their time together.
It occurred to him that he’d probably spent more time alone with her than anyone else in his life. At least since he’d been a teenager. He was always on the go, always on the move, and if he did work with people, he usually worked in teams. Hell, the most time he’d ever spent alone with Kingsley had been four days, and he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for one of them.
A week in Africa with Li
ly. A new record. A new friend.
So much more than a friend …
“Lily,” he whispered, stretching out next to her. The cot was tiny, barely big enough for them to both lay on their sides. His nose was inches from her own, and he smiled as she yawned. “Say something. Say anything. Tell me what’s right. Tell me that wanting you is okay. Tell me that being with you is okay.”
Of course she didn’t answer. He was pretty sure he knew what she’d say, anyway, and it certainly wouldn’t have been what was right.
Then she rolled away from him, stretching in her sleep before turning her back to him. The shirt had ridden up to her waist, and her bare ass pressed against his crotch as she cuddled back against him. He stared down for a minute, then began working the shirt up higher.
Talking is too dangerous. The decision has been made. Might as well spend our last hours having fun.
*
Lily knotted the top lace on her boots, then stood up. She glanced around the little shack, but of course there was nothing in it. It hadn’t come with any extra frills, not even a blanket, and she didn’t have anything other than the clothes she was wearing. Marc had taken his pack with him, so there was nothing left behind.
She’d woken up in the middle of the night to him already working his fingers inside of her. Then he hadn’t let her sleep for the next two hours. The gentle, sweet man from earlier was long gone – he was all hard muscle and forceful hands. Her ass felt sore from all the spankings, her legs felt like jelly from all the stretching, and she was pretty sure he had effectively ruined her sex drive for all other men. Despite the fact that she felt like she could sleep for ten years, when she’d watched him get dressed in the morning, it had only been him scrambling to meet Kingsley that had stopped her from taking his clothing back off.
Crazy to think that a week ago I hated him. A month ago, I didn’t even know him. And now, I always want to be with him.
She’d been given strict instructions to stay in the cabin, but Lily hated being told what to do, and hated being confined. She sat on the front steps, stretching out her legs and grabbing her toes, making her muscles pull tight. She hissed, relishing the ache and strain, and held on for a solid fifteen seconds.
Best Laid Plans Page 22
