“It’s easy to forget when two elders blessed us.”
“Ignore the fifteen years you’ve been dwelling on and let go, Jynx.”
He lights a smoke. “And what happens when I break your heart?”
“That just makes you a sadist with roses.”
He imparts a smug grin. “And does my masochist like thorns?”
“I like things that bite.”
26
Locked Up
Jynx
By mid-week, we’re still at odds over Peacock and speaking very little. Echo has an endless well of energy and believes in our ability to grow the business with my cousin’s help. The problem with that is—I still don’t know if I want to run the damn thing. It won’t be her ass they’re calling at three in the morning but mine.
And life as the boss is not one I ever envisioned.
Not because I can’t do it, but because I don’t want to do it. I understand people readily follow my lead, but that comes with a lot of responsibilities I detest. If I’m getting calls in the middle of the night, it’s a technical problem, not a personal one. And that is the difference between her and me.
I don’t do humans.
Or unsolvable issues.
In incremental doses, I can deal with those who speak the same geek jargon I do. Anything else is too fucking much. I don’t want to hear about how clients complain that some idiot made a crass comment that got misconstrued as sexual harassment blah—blah—blah…I do not care. I have far more important things to figure out, and I do not want my business—Peacock—hinging on others. I’d rather go solo.
I’m an asshole.
And self-knowledge is important.
Despite Echo’s opinion, Axel wants to entertain Theodore’s offer, and I tend to agree with him, so I’m leaving early Friday morning for Phoenix. To say she is pissed might be the understatement of the year, but she’s full steam ahead on hooking up with the underworld to do whatever we need.
It makes zero sense.
I spent two-thirds of my life crooked. And the other third trying to straighten the nefarious shit out. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am, and I can’t see shipping it down the river for the sake of the bottom dollar. We could make a fuckton of money running the machines with Deacon’s illegal crusade coins. But if we get caught, my ass will be back in the slammer again.
Facts.
Been there. Done that.
Not doing that again.
It all comes down to—how much do I trust the dynamic duo of Deacon Cruz and Sal Raniero?
Because of our ongoing war, she’s refusing to sleep with me. Even after the chemistry exploding during our romp in the rain, we returned home to a goodnight kiss at her bedroom door.
What the fuck was that shit?
I’m not even sure anymore, but I need to get off.
Preferably in her.
We’re doing the evening chores—putting the horses in the stables and feeding the peacocks when she softly says, “Why do you not want to run the business?”
I stare at her in the ripped jeans and loose camisole with no bra. Her nipples peak against the fabric, and I throb. Running my hand through my hair, I sigh, “I don’t want to end up in a cage.”
She deadpans, “But you’re an animal.”
“Yeah, but…”
“He’s your family,” she implores, stepping closer and holding the green feed bucket. “You’re running out of options.”
“It’s not that.” I take the bucket and dump it into the shoot feeder in the stall. “You don’t know how bad I was.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“From the time Grandma bought my first computer until I went in behind bars, I was causing all kinds of chaos. And it started slow until I was running one of the backbones of identity theft and credit card scams. I was good at hiding in the maze, but doing that is very similar to kink.”
Which I am failing miserably at avoiding in her presence.
I’m no longer in recovery or remission; I’m a full blown junkie.
“It’s addictive,” she mutters, setting down the bucket and walking to the gate where the four beautiful horses wait. “And one craving leads to the next.”
“The whole thing becomes a game to see what I can get away with. I embezzled millions for—real evil—the kind of people you don’t want to meet in a dark alleyway or on your screen.”
“That’s why you intercepted me.”
“Part of the reason,” I admit, unlatching the hook and swinging open the gate. The horses run inside. “I know the shit that’s out there because I was heavily involved in that scene. Where you went on the Gray Market is the edge of a cesspool. I lived deep in those waters, and if I hadn’t been arrested for stalking, I’d probably still be doing it. You should be proud I turned my life around.”
“I’m not,” she critically chastises. Her words hit like boulders, smacking into my flesh and knocking the wind out of my lungs. “You aren’t happy.”
“9 to 5 is where I am at. Happiness doesn’t play into it,” I reply, locking up as we leave the barn. “I’m sorry if you don’t understand.”
“You’re smarter than working as someone else’s peon.”
“That may be true, but I go to work, get a real check every two weeks, and have health insurance.”
“And you’re miserable.”
I spin back to her and yell, “Because I’m not helping my cousin figure out the best way to exchange dirty money into crypto currency?”
“Yes!” she argues.
I set my jaw, knowing she’s right. “But you don’t know what happens in the corral of prison.”
“Did they push you down and rape your ass, Jynx?” She yips out. “Or did your cookies get stolen in the night?”
“You’re a bitch sometimes.”
“Thanks!” She flips me off but keeps pace with me—which considering our difference in height and stride, is almost an amazing feat. The eighth world wonder is a pint-sized, mouthy, wise-cracking girl that I long to bend over and fuck hard. “Does Axel hack too?”
“He’s not as good as me,” I reply as we trod to the peacock coop. “He always followed my lead.”
“And he will now.”
“Yeah, but I’m not traveling into that sludge. I’m not getting blood on my hands anymore. I traded that for mud on my boots.”
“How did you buy the beach house, Jynx?”
“We’re not discussing my finances or investments.”
She fills the water containers and mutters, “Then we’re not discussing our sleeping arrangements either.”
I watch as she walks off.
And if I’m not careful, she’ll walk out of my life too.
I eat dinner alone.
Her plate sits untouched as she claimed to be tired.
Lies. Excuses. Fake bullshit.
She doesn’t want to fight anymore, and I can’t say as though I blame her. I’m exhausted by her pestering efforts and in desperate need of a vacation. Somewhere cold where I can plop my blue balls in the fucking snow.
I clean up the kitchen, take a shower, turn on the flatscreen, and scroll through my email. Release is one click away with a random girl, which is bad considering the only girl I want is two floors down.
“Fuck this shit,” I mumble, tossing the laptop on the bed and storming downstairs. I notice her plate, silverware, and napkin are all missing.
Thank God she’s eating.
I don’t bother to knock.
Her eyes widen as she takes a spoonful of the mashed potatoes. “You need to eat the meat.”
“Cut it up.”
I arch my brow high. “Try that again.”
“Cut my meat up, asshole.”
“Why are you so damned angry with me?” I question, sitting on the end of the bed. “Let’s just get this out in the open.”
“Your cousin is a good guy.”
“My cousin is the right hand man of a mafia boss,” I inform as she frowns. “The guy y
ou were sharing your beloved flakes with…”
She quips, “He’s a nice guy too.”
“I’m not doing this,” I reply, grabbing her plate and cutting up her chicken. “You’re spoiled.”
She shrugs. “… Who’s fault is that?”
I shake my head. “So does this all come down to your first impressions of people?”
“Pretty much,” she counters, chewing. “Teddy and Eddie are douchebags. They’re going to make bank off of your skills.”
“Do you like Axel?”
“I have no opinion of him.” Strangely, I feel about the same. “But I know when the shit hit the fan, I watched those two run to your aid. That is something Dower will never give you. So what if it’s risky? Walking down the street is risky. Deacon’s not asking you to run their shit. He’s offering to give you a loan to run your legitimate business. Big difference there, buddy.”
She doesn’t know how deep the blood flows.
I toss down her fork, and it clatters against the plate. “Because I already am. I built their whole infrastructure about four years ago and now I maintain it. That is how I bought the beach house and that is why they came. I helped them out of a bind; they reciprocated. It doesn’t mean I want to partner up with them at Peacock. That’s an entirely different issue, buddy.”
“You have people wanting to be good to you,” she whispers, picking up her fork and sticking it in a bite of the chicken. “And you’d rather go to work for the asshat.”
“I don’t want to go to jail again, Abby!”
“Why?”
“Thirty days turned into eight months!”
“Why?”
“Because I liked to fight—a lot. You may have picked up on the fact that I have a temper,” I roar, swooping the plate onto the floor as she hurries back to the headboard. I pull her arm, diving on top of her frail body and holding her down with my weight. We’re nose to nose as I run the dull edge of the razor-sharp steak knife over her cheek. “I’m a bad guy. I’m the villain in this tale. And you don’t want to meet him.”
“You keep saying that, but you can only restrain yourself for so long. Eventually, he will escape from the cage,” she charges, closing her eyes as the tears fall from the pinch. “I’m sorry, I don’t buy into your reform.”
“I’m not the guy I was a decade ago.”
“Because you believe you caused Celeste’s death.”
“No, because I haven’t beaten anyone to a bloody pulp in ages.”
“You’re going to be an outlaw sooner or later. And you know it. I know it. You don’t want me to see that though, but I do. Don’t forget who my father is. I know the hot look in your eyes when you can rig the system in your favor. You enjoy corruption.”
“It’s a hankering I don’t want anymore.”
“You’re praying that the summer ends before that lawbreaker reemerges, but what you don’t seem to recognize is regardless of who you are, Jynx—I will love you forever. You want to be an upstanding guy at Dower or a hacker in the underground, I don’t care. But stop holding back who you are for the sake of me.”
“You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“I know you’re on the verge of a relapse,” she points out. “You want to give in to the shadows. Your coding and kink aren’t just similar; they run parallel; they’re best fucking friends. One addiction craves the other.”
Lifting, I hover over her and slice the blade through the silk camisole and push the cold edge of steel against her heart. “Say it.”
“What do you want to hear, Mr. Monroe? Fuck me,” she sensually whispers. “Fuck me like the bad boy you truly are. Stop faking it and putting on airs that I burn right through and bring me—your real, baby.”
“Slide your hand in your panties.”
She bumps her knuckles against the erection trapped behind the fabric of my lounge pants. “I’m wet…so wet it hurts, J. Make it stop, please.”
“I didn’t say finger fuck yourself.”
“Sorry,” she says, sighing. I take the flat edge and smear it around one nipple before sucking the bud into my mouth. She writhes beneath me—bucking up and moaning, “There’s something so mysteriously dangerous about you.”
“Touch your clit.” Raising on my knees, I trail the blade over her neck and down to the other nipple. The silver shines like a mirror in the light as her fingers strum faster against her arousal. “Don’t stop now.” I dip down, darting my tongue over the bud before flipping the blade in mid-air above her belly. She squeals beneath me. Her eyes widen with grave concern. With a side-eyed glance, I wink and smirk. “Be a good girl for me.”
“Yes, Sir…” she breathes, rubbing faster. “I will be good.”
I drop the front of my pants and graze the head of my dick against her nipple. “Stroke my cock like my dirty slut.” Her slender fingers grip around the shaft as she jerks me off. With the blade in my hand, I shove the wooden handle inside of her wetness. “That’s it, baby. Take it all.”
“Jynx…I’m going to come soon.”
I spit onto her hand, and she lubes up my dick. “Harder! Faster! Don’t you fucking come without me. I want to cream all over your tits.”
My hips buck in tandem with the thrusts of my arm. “I can’t hold on…”
“You will,” I demand, pulling out and tossing the knife onto the floor. I inch up. “Suck my fucking cock, now!”
Her lips eagerly open to receive me, and I pound two fingers into her opening. Her pussy slurps around my hand, pooling up to my wrist. Giving her everything, she rides my hand hard, and I feel her pubic bone.
We’ve all got skeletons waiting to become weapons, stashed in closets for the future generations—the infantry sieging four chambered vessels in a surprising stick up.
Her echoes threaten my ticker.
But I can’t get enough of what she does to my pulse.
Her voracious mouth suckles, but the slippery wetness of her cunt is too much as I skirt closer to the edge. I yank out, and her hand promptly returns to pumping me.
“Don’t stop! God! Don’t stop!”
“Such a good bitch! Dance with me!”
“I need to…”
“Do it, sweet thing!” I howl, squirting my jiz all over her tits as her pussy puckers, baptizes my hand. “Yes! You’re so fucking fantastic!”
Tears cascade over her cheeks as her hands clamp around my forearm, bringing it for a closer inspection. She blinks in astonishment at my unblemished flesh. “… You’re not bloody?”
“I’ve only got your cum on me, baby.” Beaming with an impish grin, I growl, “I’m really good at what I do, Darlin’.”
27
A Moment Asunder
Echo
Jynx finally asked if I wanted to go to Arizona with him. I was reluctant at first, but his charming manner and contagious smile sealed my fate—in more ways than one, many weeks ago.
We’re flying first class to Phoenix. I’ve never been one of these people, sipping on mimosas and making small talk while everyone else boards the plane. My fairytale unfolds with my prince sitting right beside me. I try not to pay attention to the discreet glances.
There is clearly an age difference between Jynx and me.
And if I weren’t holding a champagne flute and cuddled up next to his shoulder, I’m certain the assumption would be that I’m his daughter. I lean over and kiss his cheek as one older woman’s eyes bug out. When she passes by, I announce, “I love you, Daddy.”
He turns toward me, trying not to laugh, as his lips curl. Laying his hand on my cheek, he kisses my lips with a quick swipe of his tongue. “I love you too, babygirl.” He winks.
I spend most of the flight reading several books on cooking. They’re filled with memoirs, techniques, and recipes. At one point, Jynx peers over my shoulder and mentions, “If you want to learn how to cook, I can teach you.”
Teach me everything.
Please, Sir.
Don’t let go.
I need many lessons.
We land and exit the plane. Jynx is the perfect gentleman, waiting for me and assuring my safety with a light touch to my back. As he retrieves our luggage from the baggage carousel, I wait by the windows, and the woman with the bulging eyes approaches.
“Hello,” she nervously says, digging in her purse and handing me her business card. “I saw you with the man in first class.”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I want to tell you how beautiful you are.”
I expect the—I should find someone my age—remark. My eyelashes flutter, stunned. “Thank you!”
“Years ago, before you were even born, I became involved with a man, twenty years my senior.”
Her smile broadens across her cheeks as my mouth drops open. “… Really?”
“Yes!” she exclaims, gripping onto my arm. “I’m sorry to say I lost him last year, but I want you to know, no matter what anyone says, the only thing that matters is what’s in your heart.”
“How old were you when you met him?”
“It was 1975 when I met Freddy on the train. I was twenty. He was forty. We were married less than six months after meeting and had four beautiful boys, which is why I’m in Phoenix, to visit my youngest son.”
Her stare was her love reflecting in ours.
Her scowls weren’t hate-filled, but full of pain from her loss.
I need to stop assuming everyone is out to get us. Not everyone is like our immediate families. There are people, like his cousin and Selia, who will support our romance.
“Thank you so much,” I reply with an embrace as Jynx’s brow curiously furrows. He shrugs, smirks, and mouths—what are you doing? “I really needed to hear that.”
“Have fun with him,” she boasts, grinning. “He’s a hell of a catch!”
She wobbles off as I mosey up to Jynx grinning. “We should get married.”
He blinks several times and chuckles, “You think?”
“You’d have to stick your dick in me then.”
“I wouldn’t have to,” he replies, carrying our bags as we walk to the exit. I nudge his side. “But I probably would…three or four times a day.”
Beautiful Things Evil People Do Page 23
