Envy: An Eagle Elite Novella

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Envy: An Eagle Elite Novella Page 10

by Rachel Van Dyken

But not low enough that I couldn’t see his every expression.

  “Maybe…” His eyes never left mine. “Maybe I have something to be smug about.”

  “Oh yeah?” I couldn’t calm my heart down. My legs started to tremble in anticipation, my thighs ready to squeeze. Every part of me was already primed and all he’d done was smirk while taking off my shorts.

  I was in trouble.

  “Yeah.” He sobered, and I could swear time stood still as his lips parted into the most devious look I’d ever been given. He lowered his head. A startled gasp escaped my mouth when he didn’t look away.

  No, he watched me.

  He. Watched. Me.

  While he played.

  While he moved his mouth over every inch of my core, while he pressed his fingers against every sensitive inch. His eyes never left mine.

  I couldn’t control the waves of pleasure or the way my body kept scooting closer to get more of him.

  I closed my eyes for a second.

  He stopped.

  When I opened them he winked and the pleasure was back.

  “Never…” His mouth vibrated against my thighs. “Never take your eyes away from me.”

  “Is that a fetish?” I tried teasing to lighten the moment, to give myself respite before I exploded.

  “It’s not a fetish to want to watch you come apart because of my mouth, because of my hands. It’s not a fetish when a murderer wants to see what it looks like to create life—rather than death.” His eyes locked onto mine with such intensity I couldn’t breathe. “I see life in your eyes when I touch you.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I whispered with a shaky breath.

  “Ask me to touch you again. Ask me for more…” He moved until he was settled over me, my legs on either side of him. How was he even still dressed right now? “And say my name.”

  “Vic.” My voice trembled as he stole kiss after kiss. “Vic.”

  He started to shake in my arms like hearing his name from my lips was better than the best sex.

  And maybe—to someone like him—it was.

  “Vic.” I said his name again for me, not for him, so that I would remind my head and my heart that this was Vic. The same Vic who wasn’t supposed to have sex, the same Vic who had taken an oath to protect the families, the same Vic who took an oath to protect me.

  My father’s murderer.

  With shaking hands, I spread my palms across his chest and grabbed his gun from the holster and gently placed it on the floor. His breathing picked up when I pulled his black T-shirt over his head.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the man underneath the shirt.

  For the ink that covered every bare inch of skin on his chest and shoulders.

  Or for the knife wounds those tattoos covered.

  He stopped my exploring with a simple shake of his head, like my fingers touching his wounds just brought them back. I started unbuttoning his pants; he helped me pull them down. He was already straining toward me, every hard inch of him.

  He squeezed his eyes shut when my hand grazed him, and then he was gripping my wrists with both hands. “This is going to be over way too soon.”

  “You’re the one who said ‘once,’” I reminded him.

  His eyes flashed open. Maybe he was going to say something, maybe not, his lips parted and then he was kissing me—almost violently.

  I liked it.

  I liked his aggression.

  The way he put his entire body and soul into his kiss—like he wouldn’t get a second chance to do it again so he had to do it right the first and only time.

  I couldn’t keep up.

  I kissed him back, bruising my mouth in the process. He fisted my hair in his right hand and cupped my ass with his left, giving me the perfect angle to feel his tip.

  “Please,” I begged. “Please, Vic.”

  He made an animalistic growl before driving into me so fast and hard that I almost stopped breathing.

  He didn’t move.

  I cupped his face with both hands. He stared at me like I was his world—I’d never been looked at that way.

  Tears filled my eyes as he lowered his head and pressed the softest of kisses against my mouth. He moved his hips and swallowed my moan as I clung to his body like a lifeline.

  I squeezed the life out of him, felt my body collapsing around his like it was trying to hold on but couldn’t last as long as it wanted.

  “Renee.” He rasped my name and I chose to believe it would forever be on his lips. “I’ve never….” He thrust so deep I cried out. The pleasure was too much. “Stay with me….” I nodded my head. “You’re so close…” I gripped his shoulders digging my nails into his skin. “God, your thighs could kill a man…” He chuckled against my neck.

  It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard in my entire life.

  It was what sent me over the edge.

  What set me free.

  I found just as much pleasure in his laugh as I did in his body.

  “Vic…” I touched his face. “Let go.”

  “Don’t…I can’t…” I could see the war on his face. But moments can’t last forever, can they?

  “Vic.” My body pulsed and then he drove into me again, building me back up even after already coming back down. I was so shocked I couldn’t control the release. He cried out—filled me with every part of him—and I greedily took it all—upset because I couldn’t have more.

  And when the aftershocks took me higher and higher, and when he adjusted inside me and I orgasmed again, I knew—I would never find the same pleasure in another man’s arms.

  Murderer…mine.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Vic

  I waited for the guilt to wash over me.

  Instead, my brain was too pre-occupied with the fact that I had Nixon’s naked nanny with me on their living room couch.

  As far as bad decisions went…

  This was up there with agreeing to take that damn oath and join the family business in the first place.

  I wiped a hand down my face and turned toward Renee. She was all soft curves and light smiles.

  It made my gut clench.

  The fact that she even let me touch her, let alone… I reached out and thumbed her bottom lip and then cupped her by the neck and pulled her in for a kiss. I couldn’t help myself. She tasted like life.

  Made me feel less like death.

  “You’re smiling,” she whispered in awe.

  I frowned. “I am?”

  She hit me lightly on the arm. “You were and then you ruined it.”

  I sighed and kissed her again then said, “Maybe you make me smile.”

  “Does that make me a devil charmer?” She scooted closer until I had no choice but to wrap my arms around her so we were chest to chest.

  I kissed her forehead. “I guess that makes me the devil in this scenario.”

  She shrugged.

  “Hah.” I smiled again. It was alarming how hard it was to do, or at least how hard it used to be, but not with her in my arms. Never with her in my arms. She was the sunshine in my hell. “Are you…” I licked my lips. “Did you—”

  “Stop.” She covered my mouth with her hand. “I’m fantastic, though a little warning would be nice next time so I remember to breathe.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean remember to breathe?”

  Her cheeks went bright pink. “You’re not a small…man.”

  I barked out a rusty laugh. “I think that was a compliment?”

  “Try not to let it get to your head.” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. God, I would do anything to taste her again, to never stop.

  I eyed her mouth.

  Then ran a hand down her backside.

  “You’re so smooth.”

  She shivered.

  I would do anything for this woman.

  I would protect her.

  I would die for her.

  I would…

  I felt my entire body go
tight. “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “Damn it!” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry, Renee. Shit!” I couldn’t even look at her.

  “What? What’s wrong?” She cupped my face.

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m supposed to be protecting you and I didn’t even think about protection! Fuck, I’ll take you to the doctor and—”

  “Vic?”

  “What?” My stomach clenched.

  “First, I’m not stupid—”

  “I didn’t say—”

  She pressed a finger to my lips. Hell, was she shushing me? Was I smiling again? Damn it, the guys were going to suspect something if I didn’t lock that shit down. Especially Nixon.

  “Meaning,” she continued, “even though you ooze sexuality and dominance—”

  Now I was really smiling.

  Her eyes narrowed. “I take back what I said about that smile.”

  “Too late.” I chuckled as a dazed expression crossed her face. And then she was shaking her head.

  “As I was saying…” Renee gulped and stared at my mouth in fascination. “I’m not stupid, I’m on the pill. And you said you hadn’t been with anyone in three years, so…I figured I was okay.”

  Breath rushed out of my lungs. “You trust my word that much? What if I slipped during those three years? What if I slipped at the club the other night?”

  “You wouldn’t have slept with me then,” she said in a quiet voice. “And men like you don’t just slip…”

  “And yet.” I groaned into my hands. “I’m still sorry, Renee. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Good,” she said softly. “You do enough thinking.”

  She pressed me onto my back and then laid her head on my chest. I played with her hair while she ran her nails up and down my sides. Something wet hit my chest. When I looked down two more tears rolled off her cheeks.

  “Was he a bad man, my father?” Her voice was so quiet, so innocent. God, I shouldn’t even be touching her.

  “It was either we kill him without torture—or the Russians make it last for a few weeks… He was dirty because we asked him to be. He had to play both sides, and he knew if he ever got caught—” I swore. “He knew what would happen.”

  “And you—”

  “Don’t make me talk about this. Not when I’m holding his daughter—” I almost stuttered when I said daughter. “In my arms.”

  “Okay.” She sniffled.

  I hugged her tight and closed my eyes. “In three minutes…things go back to the way they were. They have to.”

  She clung to me tighter.

  I fucking loved the way she plastered her body against mine as if to say you can’t make me.

  And I didn’t want to.

  But nobody could know.

  Ever.

  This wasn’t in the oath I had taken.

  And I wasn’t good enough to be touching her, let alone sleeping with her.

  I watched the grandfather clock in that room.

  I watched it with a tight chest.

  And slowly, as the seconds ticked by, I felt my body go rigid. I forced my smile away, purposefully shoved memories of her taste out of my brain, and clung to only one last thought before it chimed.

  The way she said my name.

  I was keeping that one.

  Everything else…I would forget.

  But I would remember the one time—someone made me feel less like a monster—more like a human, just by the way my name fell from her lips.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Renee

  I slept alone.

  But I knew he was watching.

  Every night he watched.

  Even after I was back at watching the kids in the early mornings, he never left my side.

  And it was driving me insane.

  It had been five days since the couch.

  Five days of me walking in and out of that room, staring at the leather couch that he’d stripped me on. Where he’d made me scream, made me say his name.

  “You okay?” A male voice jolted me out of my lust. I turned and smiled as Chase stared me down like he knew something I didn’t. “You seem jumpy.”

  “Yeah, well, you guys are all packing.” I shrugged just as Vic walked by.

  Chase lowered his voice. “In more ways than one.”

  Searing heat flooded my cheeks.

  Chase stretched his lips in a knowing grin. “That’s what I thought.”

  Vic walked in front of the windows and then turned back to face us. I couldn’t help my reaction any more than I could help breathing. His eyes darkened as he drank me in.

  Next to me, Chase cleared his throat. “He watches you very…intensely.”

  “Maybe he’s just good at his job.”

  “He’s good at his job,” Chase admitted. “When he’s not distracted. And the shocking thing is, he hasn’t been distracted for…five days or so, I would say?”

  I clenched my fists and stared straight ahead.

  “But who’s counting?” Chase yawned. “You’re always welcome in our house.”

  I whipped my head toward his. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “If Nixon ever decides to kick you out.” He shrugged. “Our door is open.”

  “Why would he kick me out?”

  Chase glanced over at Vic. “Why indeed?” He put a hand on my shoulder. “His acting’s better than yours…reign it in, Nanny.”

  I pressed my palms to my hot cheeks. “Great. Just great.”

  Chase winked and sauntered off with a whistle as if he wasn’t one of the most infuriating men I’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. He carried darkness with him, that one—then again, all of the men did. It was as if there was this giant chip on each of their shoulders that they kept there to purposefully punish themselves for the sins they’d committed.

  I eyed the couch again then looked up.

  Vic caught me.

  His expression softened.

  Great, now he was giving me looks of pity. The murderer!

  I was fine.

  Completely and totally fine.

  I swallowed the tennis ball that had lodged its way into my throat and turned on my heel.

  Family dinner be damned.

  I knew they wanted to include me, but I needed to be alone. And if Chase said I wasn’t able to reign it in? Well that wasn’t a good sign, now was it?

  “Where are you off to?” Nixon walked right in front of me.

  Shit.

  “I was, um, just going to wash up…for dinner,” I lied.

  He tilted his head. “Tex just went in there with Mo. Might be a few minutes, go use the kitchen.”

  I made a face.

  Nixon cracked a smile. “Can’t keep their hands off each other, and if they keep at it under my roof I’m going to be using Tex as target practice. I still don’t see what my sister sees in him.”

  “Does Tex know this?”

  “Oh, it’s his favorite pastime, pissing me off. One day I’m going to take off a finger. I look forward to it with more enthusiasm than I should.”

  And with that, I was led into the kitchen, where I tried to wash my hands without thinking of Vic.

  Where I tried calming my racing heart as people sat around the large table.

  Seats were pulled out.

  I waited.

  Because bosses always sat first. Always in a way to protect the innocents around them. Each boss was assigned a family member to stand in front of if it came to a gun fight.

  And since I was living under Nixon’s roof, for whatever reason they still wouldn’t tell me other than my only future was nannying their children and never getting an education, I swallowed the bitter pill and accepted it.

  I was just about to grab a seat when Trace walked in and sat next to Nixon. I waited again. This time, in a blur of activity, people sat and I was the last one standing. Even Tex and Mo had made it back into the room.

  One seat left.

  Right next to Vic.
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  To make matters worse, Chase’s smirk was not making me feel confident enough to make it through without blurting out that we’d had sex, thus getting Vic killed. An oath wasn’t a small thing in the mafia and once you took one you basically had to see it through. Blood in, no out. You’d never be free of this. You’d have to die to be free. I sighed heavily.

  At least Mo was to my left, Vic to my right.

  I could do this.

  “Chase, you say the blessing,” Nixon demanded.

  Chase’s grin grew to epic proportions as he stared across at me. “Sure, I’ll say an extra prayer God forgives us all for our sins…”

  If I could kick him and not get shot at, I would.

  I glared.

  The normally gloomy assassin seemed thrilled to be teasing me, like it was the most entertainment he’d had in years.

  His wife, Luc, elbowed him and shot me an apologetic glance.

  The shocking part was that he actually listened.

  And then wrapped a bulky arm around her and held her close.

  His prayer was short.

  I remembered nothing.

  Even my name was fuzzy.

  Because I could smell Vic.

  And I wanted to take a bite.

  Not of the food.

  I was going to have to sit on my hands, wasn’t I? That’s what it was coming to.

  Food was passed around.

  It was taco night, which would have made my Sicilian grandmother roll over in her grave. According to my mother, one did not eat tacos during family dinner. But when you have toddlers you’ll sacrifice a freaking cow just so they eat and stop trying to survive off air. Not like anyone at that table was going to get sainted anyway.

  Tex grabbed a dinner roll and chucked it across the table. Dante caught it with one hand. “Too slow, old man.”

  Sergio laughed while Tex picked up a knife and pointed it in Sergio’s direction. “Care to see if I miss?”

  “Care to see if I poison your wine?” Sergio said it so calmly, but I knew he would do it just to see Tex crap his pants or do something equally embarrassing. These guys didn’t understand the word boundaries. It was a family forged by blood, by loss, by so much love it almost seemed normal to bicker and pull weapons to prove your point. Family and God. They ruled with iron fists—they loved even harder than they killed.

 

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