I’m calm and collected when I place my soles against his chest and shove. I get to my feet and stand on the bed, waiting for him to advance again. I listen carefully and deliver a straight foot thrust into his throat, causing a temporary spasm in his trachea. The convulsion will clench his throat closed and he won’t be able to breathe. He’ll feel as though he’s suffocating and I’ll have less than thirty seconds before it functions normally again.
I tuck his head beneath my armpit. I clamp my arm around his neck so my forearm is pressed against his spasming throat and I squeeze. I wrap my leg around his midsection with body scissors and arch backward, pulling his head forward, stretching his torso and neck. “Who sent you?”
No answer. But of course, I do have him in a chokehold while his throat is contracted. “Can’t answer, huh?”
I let up lightly. “The good news is that your throat is going to open again in about ten seconds. The bad news is that I’m cutting off your air supply and you won’t be able to breathe even when your trachea stops spasming.”
He’s fighting against me but I have a death grip on him. “I’m going to ask one more time. Who sent you?”
He bucks backward and hits his skull against my cheek. He isn’t talking and if I let him up, he’s going to kill me. It’s kill or be killed. Of that, I have no doubt so I squeeze until he stops fighting.
I’m physically spent and shaking so badly I can’t get up from the floor. I manage to reach over to feel for a pulse and confirm there’s nothing. I lie there motionless for a moment because my muscles are too weak to carry me anywhere.
Shit. The room is in a shambles and there’s a dead body lying in Sin’s bedroom. I’m not really sure what he’s going to say when he returns from his kill and finds that I’ve done the same thing—inside his home.
I sit and wait because there’s nothing else to be done.
As promised, it’s morning before Sin returns. I’m sitting in the chair when he comes into the bedroom. He sees the body on the floor and looks more like a frightened animal than the untouchable organized crime boss he’s destined to become. “I was lying in bed when he attacked me from behind. Sorry about the room.”
He strides across and pulls me from the chair. He holds me in his arms and squeezes tightly. “Are you hurt?”
“You can’t hurt a steel magnolia.”
He embraces me for a while before taking his phone from his pocket to make a call. “There’s been an incident at my flat. I need a cleanup immediately.”
I guess this is how they do it. No authority. No crime scene investigation. No evidence.
“I want you to take your things into the guest room and have a long, hot shower. Clear your thoughts and when you’ve finished, go into my office and wait for me. I’ll come to you after this is taken care of.”
He’s protecting me. He doesn’t want anyone to know I’m here or that I did this. “Okay.”
I take my time in the shower because I know that mess won’t be clear anytime soon. I stand under the falling water and wish the memories of the night would wash away, but it isn’t possible.
I’ve killed before. It too wasn’t by choice. I know all too well that the feelings to follow won’t go away with the snap of a finger—or a shower.
I go into Sin’s office after my shower per his instruction. His music library is open on his computer, so I scroll through his tunes and find a song titled “A Little Death” by The Neighbourhood. It seems a fitting song for the situation. It’s slow and seductive, nothing as I expected. I like it.
I’m sitting on Sin’s desk with my back to the door when I hear it close. I turn and watch him come toward me. I recognize that hungry look again. He stops, standing between my parted knees. He puts his hands on the outer sides of my bare thighs beneath my simple cotton dress and glides his palms upward.
He’s showered. His hair is wet and he smells of cologne. I wonder if his cleansing cleared his mind of the things he did last night. Mine certainly didn’t.
His eyes trail down my neck and he lowers his mouth to place a kiss there. “These bruises will disappear with time and it will be as though it never happened. I’ve taken care of everything. This will never come back to you.”
He’s made the night’s unfortunate events disappear. I’m not certain if his motive is to protect me or himself, but I’m inclined to think all of this is directly related to the feelings he’s developing for me.
“I like the way this feels—you shielding me from harm.”
“I promised you I would protect you.” He strokes his thumb over my cheekbone, the one my attacker hit when he slammed his head against my face. There was a large purple bruise developing beneath the skin when I examined myself earlier.
I’m surprised by how arousing it is for him to take care of me. “I’d like to withdraw a pledge I made. I once said I would never allow anyone to fuck me across a desk, but I think this is a very different kind of circumstance. I’d like it very much if you’d have me right here and now.”
He grasps my hips and slides me closer to the edge of the desk. He presses his body into mine and I feel how hard he already is. “Ask and you shall receive.”
I glide my hands up his arms as his mouth meets mine. He holds the backs of my knees and bends them, bringing my legs to wrap around his waist. He presses his groin against me, hard.
His mouth abandons mine to move down my neck as he palms one of my breasts in a circular motion. My nipples grow hard.
I really want to be out of this dress. It’s in the way so I grab the bottom and drag it over my head, throwing it onto Sin’s office chair. He echoes my motion by removing his shirt. I slide my panties down as he pushes his trousers to the floor. I unfasten my bra while he gets out of his pants. It’s perfect timing on both of our parts.
He pats the desk. “I want you right here.”
I scoot back onto my assigned seating, legs dangling. He sits in his chair and rolls toward me. “This is my office and I’m a busy man, Miss MacAllister. I have a lot of work to do.” He puts his hand between my breasts and drags it down my chest and stomach until his fingers threaten to touch me, but don’t.
Does he want me to ask him to touch me? Because I will.
“Lie back, bonny one.”
I’m lowering my upper body onto the desk when he grasps my feet and pushes my legs back and apart. I tremble with an impatient desire to be touched. I anticipate his fingers entering me at any second. But they don’t. I’m considering begging when he moves my legs so they’re draped over his shoulders, his head between my legs. My mind hardly has time to register what he’s about to do when I feel the flutter of his tongue. I jolt, just as I did the first time he touched me there.
I could have never guessed it would feel like this. Just as I grow accustomed to one motion and rhythm, he stops and changes to a completely different speed and direction. It’s a guessing game as to what he’ll do next and how it will feel. I only know he’s going to bring me to orgasm very soon.
Sin inserts his fingers and slides them in and out while he uses his mouth to form a suction over my clit. I instinctively lift my hips from the desk in a rhythmic, rocking motion. My back arches and I tense when the quivering begins in my pelvis. He sucks harder and it’s almost more than I can stand. “Ohh … uhh.”
My body shudders around his fingers, squeezing them. My womb flutters rhythmically for several seconds before it’s finished and a pulsating warmth spreads through my body. I tingle in my face, hands, and feet.
Sin comes up to hover above me so he can see my face. “I hope that was good for you.”
“The best ever.” I repeat the words he said to me the night he took my virginity.
“Good. I want it to always be the best.” He grins and grabs my hands to help me to a sitting position. “Can I kiss you?” I nod—not understanding why he thinks he’d need to ask. But then I understand his meaning when he brings his mouth to mine. Hmm … I’m not sure I’m crazy about that, but I
suppose it’s tolerable considering the orgasm he gave me.
The song ends and another begins. This one I recognize. “You like Pearl Jam?”
“Aye.”
“Me too.” The song emanates an entirely different feeling.
“Sirens” plays as Sin’s hands glide up my thighs and bring them around his waist again. He’s moving back and forth, his erection rubbing against me. “The last thing you told me was no more condoms.”
“Mmm … hmm.”
“Is that still what you want?”
I grab his face and bring it to mine so we’re eye to eye. “That’s exactly how I want you.”
“I’ll never deny you of the things you want.” He situates himself at my entrance. “I’ve claimed you. That means it’s my job to give you everything you want.” He pulls my hips against him as he enters me. I put my arms up over his shoulders and press my body to his while moving with him.
Skin on skin. I’m not experienced but even I recognize the difference. It’s a more pleasurable feeling but it’s so much more than that. I feel a kind of connection I didn’t experience the other times. I gave a part of myself to Sinclair Breckenridge before. Now, he’s taking all of me.
He moves his fingers to where we become one and massages the sensitive spot above our connection. I press my forehead to his, holding on for dear life.
“Look at me, Bonny Bleu.” He slows his pace and our eyes are locked. “Into me … you see. Say it with me.”
“Into me … you see,” we repeat together. I have no idea what it means but I like the way it makes me feel to say it with him.
“I’m going to come.” His entire body tenses when he thrusts one last time. He’s deep inside me when I feel his body shudder. “Ohh … ”
When he’s finished, he presses his forehead to mine. We’re both grinning. “I hope that was good for you.”
“The best ever,” he says, laughing. He pulls out and sits in his chair, patting his leg. “Sit in my lap.”
I sit and put my arm over his shoulder. His hand is on my back, rubbing small circles into the muscle. “What was that?”
“A magnificent orgasm.”
“I mean the into me … you see thing.”
He leans his head back against the chair and caresses my cheek as he looks at me. “Intimacy means into me … you see.”
Oh, I see the association now.
“It’s the private and intimate part of the claiming. You say it during moments you feel closest to your partner.”
“Only during sex?”
“Doesn’t have to be. You can say it whenever you’re feeling especially connected.”
Saying those words together was profound. It felt comparable to allowing him into my heart. He breeched the walls of the fortress surrounding it, the one I built to keep everyone in my life at a safe distance.
But I don’t feel distance between us. It’s as though it never existed.
That isn’t part of the plan.
Chapter Fourteen
Sinclair Breckenridge
I barge into the conference room and find Dad and Abram already waiting for me. I don’t greet either because I’m not in the mood for pleasantries. I’m mad as hell. “Which one of you did it?”
I see the puzzled expression on my father’s face and know immediately who the culprit is.
“It was me,” Abram admits.
“What did you do?” Dad asks.
I’m not at all surprised to discover last night was Abram’s doing. I’m glad to learn my father wasn’t party to this. I’m not sure how I might have handled a stab in the back like that from him.
“Abram sent me out on Fellowship business last night. While I was away, he ordered Malcolm to come into my home and go after something that belongs to me.”
“Tell me my son’s mistaken.”
Abram ignores my father, as he often does. “Since when does the American belong to you?”
He is asking if I’ve claimed her but I purposely do not respond. “What you did can be considered a betrayal.”
“You should select your words very carefully, Sinclair.” He’s pointing his finger at me. “Betrayal is a strong accusation.”
“What would you have me call it?”
“Investigation. But since you’re the one bringing up disloyalty, what about your involvement with her? She’s an outsider. You don’t consider that a form of treachery to your brotherhood?”
I don’t acknowledge his allegation against me. “You sent Malcolm after Bleu. How can you call that investigation?”
Abram gets up from his chair. I know his tactics well. This is a maneuver intended to intimidate. It places him above me so he may talk down—but it won’t work. I will not concede. “A girl from who knows where inserts herself into our world. She sways her arse and you go completely stupid. Have you not considered that she’s been planted among us by our enemy?”
“Of course I have. I’m not a fool. I did my own private investigation the moment I knew she’d been hired by Leith. We ran her prints and found nothing. I did a sweep of her place and a web search. Everything pans out. She’s clean. I’ve looked from every angle.”
“What about the matter of her looking like Amanda Lawrence? That’s no coincidence.”
“Are you never going to be able to move beyond Bleu’s resemblance to her? Amanda Lawrence is DEAD! Her daughter is DEAD! You have to get over this fixation you have with them!” It’s madness.
“I’m telling you this is no coincidence. Someone handpicked her and she’s here to destroy us.”
“Bleu is one person, not an army or coalition. She doesn’t have the power to destroy us. If you’d stop for one damn second and think rationally about this, you’d realize you’re wrong about her.”
“I’m not mistaken.”
“Then we must agree to disagree. Unless concrete evidence proves I’m wrong, I won’t allow you to send anyone else to execute her.” And what was he thinking doing that in my home?
“I didn’t send Malcolm to kill her. His assignment was to scare the lass into admitting who she is and why she’s here.” I’m not sure I believe him.
“You should’ve been clearer with your instructions because that isn’t what happened. He attacked her while she was sleeping.” I can’t tell him Bleu killed Malcolm. It will only arouse more suspicion. “I came home and found them struggling. It was dark so I had no idea it was a brother.”
“What did you do?”
“He’s dead.”
“And so it begins,” Abram sneers. “Don’t you see? We’ve lost a good brother because of her.”
“We lost Malcolm because you sent him into my home behind my back. This one is on you.”
“Mark my words. That girl’s lying in wait. She’s the devil in his most beautiful form and she’s here to sabotage us.”
“I’m warning you, Abram.” Now it’s my finger pointing at him. “Don’t send anyone else after her.”
“Or what, Sinclair? You’ll kill me? You’ll choose a stranger over your own family?”
“Enough!” my father growls. “No one in this family is killing another member.”
“I saw the way you looked at her, Thane. You have a soft spot for that lass because she reminds you of Amanda.”
Abram’s obsessed with Bleu’s likeness to Amanda Lawrence. I’m afraid he won’t be over it soon.
“Bleu reminds me of a happy time in my life but it doesn’t blind me to the risk she poses. And my son isn’t a fool. He’ll take the proper action if needed.”
Abram must understand he doesn’t get to deliver the verdict on Bleu. “You come to me if you have any further concerns about her and I’ll be the one to take care of them. Not you.”
“Do tell, Sinclair … what will you do if you find she’s not who she claims to be?”
There’s only one way to deal with a betrayal such as that. “Then it’ll be my place to kill her.”
He looks pleased. “When the time comes—and it
will—The Fellowship and I will hold you to that.”
“If she’s working for the enemy, I won’t hesitate.”
“It’s good to know she hasn’t completely impaired your judgment.”
I’m not telling Bleu that Abram sent a brother after her. It’s better she believes Malcolm was an intruder coming for me. There’s also no need for her to know my uncle suspects she’s an informant.
I want to keep things exactly as they are. I’ve secretly claimed Bleu so she’s my responsibility. If her presence becomes a problem, I’ll be the one to deal with it.
* * *
It’s peculiar how quickly one can become accustomed to the presence of another in their home. I enjoy having Bleu here—but she won’t stay forever. I’m slightly regretful about ending her employment at the bar. She’s free to spend her days tending to her aunt’s final arrangements while I’m working. That means she’ll return home sooner than I’d like. I’m not pleased about that prospect. I’ve become attached to her in a short time. I didn’t think it was possible.
I’m sitting in the living room sipping a whisky and listening to Violin Sonata no. 9 when Bleu arrives home. She comes through the door carrying two armfuls of bags and I recall her telling me she’d be going by the market. I’d forgotten about her cooking dinner for me tonight—something southern.
I move to get up. “I’ll get those for you.”
“No, I’m good. Nice song choice.”
She stops by for a quick kiss on her way to the kitchen. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She giggles and looks at the drink in my hand. “Rough day?”
“Aye, my leg was giving me a little trouble but it’s much better now.”
“Would it help if I rubbed it for you?”
“I’m good but I might take you up on that offer another time.”
I follow her into the kitchen. I’ve missed my Bonny Bleu today. “Were you able to find everything you need?”
“It was a struggle.” She sighs. “I’m used to huge stores where they sell everything plus a kitchen sink. There’s only small markets in this area, which I guess is okay since I can’t carry a shit ton of groceries home anyway.”
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