by Celia Aaron
I turned.
Her gaze roved my chest and lower. A blush crept across her cheeks and her small white teeth worried away at her lower lip. A word I’d never used before flittered around my mind. Adorable. She was fucking adorable.
“Your ink is beautiful, by the way. The wings, I mean.” Reaching past me, her breast brushed against my arm.
Just the touch of her hard nipple sent a rush of blood southward. “Thank you.”
She straightened quickly, another cotton ball between her fingers, and inspected the exit wound. “This one doesn’t seem as bad. Maybe because you stitched it.” She pressed some alcohol around it. “It looks like you’ve seen your fair share of stitching.” Her eyes roved my chest, the scars telling dozens of tales steeped in blood.
The alcohol stung, but nothing like the entry wound on my back. After wiping it clean, she blew on it, her pretty lips pursed and giving me ideas.
“Okay.” She backed away a step, giving me a full view of her outfit. Holy fucking Christ, her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her t-shirt, and her legs looked even longer in the shorts. “So, what now?”
“Now we get some sleep.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” She yawned. “I’m beat.”
“Get in bed. I need to make a call.” I headed toward the basket.
“Let me get that for you.” She stepped in front of me, her round ass filling out the pink shorts nicely, and bent over to dig around in the basket.
My gaze went right to the bit of fabric pressing against what I imagined was the sweetest pussy I would ever taste. My cock was more than ready for a sample, but I stood my ground. Now wasn’t the time. Not yet.
“Here.” She straightened and handed me the box with the phone in it.
“Thanks.” If she looked down, she’d see just how much I appreciated her pajama outfit and her feminine way of bending at the waist.
“Welcome.” She pulled the blanket back and slid in between the white sheets. Her hair pooled on the white pillow, a dark angel in a sea of snowy white.
I ripped open the box and pulled out the simple flip phone. Within moments, I dialed Nate.
He answered on the second ring. “Gramma, is that you?”
“Got company?”
“Yeah, I fed the cats. Way too many of them.”
“We’ve found a spot to lay low. What’s the talk?”
“The vet said you need to put the big ugly one and that cute little one with the dark hair to sleep.”
“Fuck. Vince put a price on my head, too?”
“Yeah. It’ll cost a fortune, way more money than they’re worth. But it’ll get rid of the problem. Especially that big ugly fucker that’s always shitting on your rug. He won’t be a loss.”
Another man’s voice came through. “Hey, tell your gramma I’m more than happy to take care of her pussy, same as last night.” Raucous laughter filled the background.
“She’s an old lady, Jesus. Have some fucking respect.” Nate’s scolding got another round of laughs. “Gotta go Gramma.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Love you, too, Gramma.” He hung up.
“So now we’re both being hunted?” Charlie pulled her knees to her chest, her eyes wide in the flickering firelight.
I unfastened my belt and shucked off my pants. “Doesn’t matter.”
She stared at my chest, her eyes lighting. Fuck if my cock didn’t wake right back up. I hurried and slid into the bed beside her before she noticed the tent in my boxers.
“What?” She pulled the sheet up to her throat. “It definitely matters.”
I laced my fingers together behind my head, mainly to keep my hands off her. “I would die to defend you. I’m already in the cross hairs. Another bounty doesn’t change that.”
She strangled the blanket in her small hands. “Why do you say things like that?”
“Like what?”
“That you’d die for me.”
“Because it’s true.”
She wiggled down under the covers and turned on her side to look at me. “You don’t know me.”
“I know plenty.”
“Yeah? Then share with the class.” Light danced in her eyes, a challenge.
“I know you like flowers.” I moved closer, and she didn’t shy away, just held me in her sights.
She rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that.”
“I know you like me.” My palms were sweating, and I felt like a teenage boy asking his crush to prom. Jesus, get it together.
She smiled, and the warmth reached her eyes. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I rested my hand on her waist, and prayed to whatever god there was that she wouldn’t push me away.
“A little.” She ran her hand up my forearm.
“A lot.”
“No comment.” She shrugged. “Anything else?”
I slipped my fingers beneath the hem of her shirt. Her skin was soft, smooth, and perfect under my touch. Slow down. I didn’t want to spook her.
I swung for the fences. “I know you think about kissing me sometimes.”
“That so?” She arched an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”
I moved closer until our bodies were almost touching, both of us on our sides. “Because your cheeks turn pink and you stare at my mouth, which you happen to be doing right this second.”
She blinked, then focused on my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“You were.”
“If you say so.” She made a pfft noise, her warm breath tickling across my chin. “Is that all you got?”
I slid my hand farther under her shirt. “I know you want me to kiss you.”
“I’d need to know more about you to decide that.” Her voice was breathy, giving her away. She wanted me, though she couldn’t possibly want me as much as I wanted her.
“What do you want to know?” I licked my lips and eyed hers, desperate to know what she tasted like.
“Hmm.” She stared at the headboard for a moment, then reclaimed my gaze. “What’s your middle name?”
“That’s it? Of all the things you could ask, that’s the one thing?” I ran my hand through her hair, the silken strands sliding through my fingers.
“For now.” Her tone was coy.
“Ivan.”
“Russian?”
“My mother’s side of the family is from Ukraine.” I inched closer to her mouth, her sweet breath playing along my lips.
“Okay, that’s all I needed to know.” She tried to roll onto her back, away from me. She was a smoking hot tease, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to let her get away. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her if I’d tried, which I didn’t. Gripping her waist, I pulled her against me.
She made a small, high-pitched sound when I pressed my lips to hers. But then she opened her mouth, welcoming me inside as she clutched my back. Her nails were heaven on my skin, her tongue paradise on my lips. I kissed her rough, too rough, but every primal instinct that lived inside me demanded that I give her everything I had.
She responded, craning her neck back and opening her mouth, letting her tongue war with mine as we kissed like we were ravenous for each other. What was left of my soul entwined with hers, and I wanted to devour every delicious inch of her. I ran my hand to her ass and palmed her. She squealed into my mouth as I pushed my thigh between her legs. Her pussy was like a fucking nuclear reactor, hot and ready to blow. The thought of that heat on my dick sent me to a new level, and I rolled over on top of her, pinning her lush body beneath my own.
She gasped when I kissed to her neck and sucked her skin between my teeth. I kissed and licked lower until I reached the neckline of her shirt.
“Con, please.”
“Fuck.” My name on her lips, her begging me for more. I was afraid I’d come in my goddamn boxers.
I yanked her shirt up and sucked one of her stiff pink tips into my mouth. She arched and clawed at my scalp. I gripped her other breast, a perfect handful,
and pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I switched, giving both equal attention. When I bit down on her, the cry that escaped her throat made my balls ache. I had to taste her, all of her.
Kissing down her stomach, I reached her pink shorts and placed kisses all along the waistline. She wasn’t the only tease.
“Touch your nipples.” I grabbed her shorts and raked them down her body, then tossed them aside as the blankets pooled at my feet. “I want to see what you like.”
She squeezed her nipples as I got a look at her sex, pink and glistening. “Wet for me?”
Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t break eye contact. Sexy vixen.
“Spread wide for me.” I stared down at her pink folds as she parted her legs as far as they’d go. “Perfect.” My mouth watered as I leaned down and kissed her mound.
Her hips bucked, but I spread my palms flat on her thighs to keep her in place. My first lick sent me spinning, her wet slit perfect on my tongue. I flicked her clit, whipping back and forth as she moaned and tensed. When I fastened my mouth to her, she dug her heels into my back. Fuck, yeah. I licked and sucked until her legs began to shake, her body tightening to the point of explosion.
“Say my name when you come.” I dove back down and fastened my lips around her clit, licking it with the broad side of my tongue until she froze and fractured into a million pieces, her breath coming out in a whoosh with my name on her lips. She shook and clawed at the sheets until her body relaxed and she lay still. I kissed her once more, relishing her sweet taste, before climbing up her body. She’d thrown one arm across her face.
“That was, that was…” Her voice trembled. “Oh my god.”
I kissed her, giving her taste back to her. “Thank you.”
“Thank me?” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m pretty sure I should be thanking you.”
“Not a chance.” I dropped another kiss on her lips. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of.” I thrust my hard cock against her thigh, then rose from the bed.
She sat up, her traitorous shirt falling to cover her breasts. “You mean you don’t want—”
“That was for you.” I meant it, though turning her down seemed like the worst decision of my life. “All for you. You can trust me, Charlie. Okay?”
She crinkled her nose in her adorable way. “I-I think I do.”
I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Then we’ll continue this exercise until that answer changes to a definite ‘I do.’”
18
Charlie
Jesse floated beneath the water’s surface, her eyes open but unseeing. Her blonde hair flowed around her like bleached seaweed. I tried to swim to her, to save her, but it was like trying to swim through sand to get to her. When I finally reached her, a shadow fell across me. Brandon stood over me, rage in his eyes and accusations on his tongue. I covered my head as he rained blows, punching and screaming while I just tried to survive. I cried for him to stop, yelled his name and reminded him it was me, Charlie. But then Brandon turned into Berty, with his beady eyes and toothy smile. I couldn’t get away, no matter how hard I tried.
“Charlie.” Brandon yelled in my face, grabbed my upper arms, and shook me. “Charlie!”
I opened my eyes. Light blue ones stared down at me.
Con leaned over me, his face marked with concern. “You were having a nightmare.”
Morning sun peeked through the hurricane shutters, and the fire had died to embers.
“Yeah, I told you about that.” My face burned. “Sorry I woke you.” I tried to roll away and get out of bed, but he held me right where I was.
“Who’s Brandon?”
“No one.” I’d already shared plenty. Brandon was one ghost that was better left buried. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Frustration lined his brow. One thing I’d learned about Con: he wasn’t used to anyone telling him no.
He eased off me and sat up, his back muscles rolling beneath the wings. He sighed, then turned to me and ripped the blanket off. “I see we’re going to need another trust demonstration.”
“Con!” I yipped as he pulled down my shorts and spread my legs.
His low growl set me on fire, and his first lick had me squirming. He smirked, the devil in his eyes. “You asked for it.”
“Any word on Ramone?” Con sat in a side chair near the window in the bedroom, the phone to his ear.
I’d showered after he’d given me two mind-blowing orgasms and again refused to let me reciprocate. His denial—though well-meaning—irked the hell out of me. I wanted to touch him, to feel him, to experience everything he had to offer. But he wouldn’t give in, not until I showed him all of me. Thing was, I was afraid he’d see the full picture and know just how broken I truly was.
I raided the closet again and dressed in some jeans, a t-shirt, and a fleece pullover that seemed about a size too small. At least the clothes were warm. I walked over to the navy rug and started digging through the basket, though I was careful not to reveal my electrifying friend in the bottom.
Con shook his head, the phone pressed to his ear. “No, man, I’m not going to tell you. When we move from here, I’ll let you know. Watch your back.”
He flipped the phone closed and tossed it onto the bed. “No word on Ramone. But it’s safe to assume he’s on our trail.”
“I thought you said we’d be all right here?”
He dropped to his knees and sat next to me. “We will be, but Ramone will eventually follow the right lead. Once he does, he’ll be on our doorstep. The key is to keep moving.”
“Where will we go next?” I dunked a piece of graham cracker into the jar of peanut butter and handed it to him.
“North, then west.” He munched the cracker, and I made another for myself.
“And then what?” The peanut butter shocked my tongue with its sweetness.
“And then we’ll see.”
I stopped chewing. “That’s your plan?”
“Not entirely, no.” He dunked another piece of graham cracker into the jar, getting an obscene scoop of peanut butter. He popped it into his mouth and grinned at me as I stared.
“What’s the other part of your plan?” I scooped a reasonable bit of peanut butter onto my cracker and nibbled it.
“That’s up to me. All you have to do in this plan is follow my lead and stay alive. Sound good?” He nodded and got to his feet like a stealthy cat. “Good. I’m going to shower.”
“That’s not an answer.” I rose and followed him into the bathroom.
“That’s the only answer you’re getting.” He hit the water in the shower and caught my eye, holding my gaze as he stripped his shorts off.
His erection was thick and hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The dark hair around the base was neatly trimmed, and his entire body—scars and all—was a work of masculine art. He gripped his shaft, and a small unf left my lips.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I need to do something about this before I throw you on the floor and fuck you until you beg me to come.” He moved his hand in a steady stroke, his hungry eyes on me. “Unless you trust me.” He took a step toward me, and my knees went weak. “Do you, Charlie? Trust me enough to tell me about Brandon, whoever he is?”
The mention of his name slapped me from my reverie. “I, um, I should go and do some things in the—” I pointed behind me, though we both knew I had absolutely nothing to do in the bedroom. Nothing unless he was in the room with me.
“Have it your way.” He stepped into the shower, and I leaned against the door frame for support. How much longer could I last?
19
Conrad
I checked and re-checked our weapons. Once the sun shone through the clouds enough for us to flick the lights on without drawing attention, Charlie and I searched the house for any additional firearms. I came up with a small cache hidden in a false wall in the pantry. Charlie found three handguns scattered around the upstairs bedrooms.
We added them to our duffel bag, then gathered what little food there was in the pantry and hauled it upstairs to the master bedroom.
“Is the TV okay?” Charlie sat on the bed.
“Sure, just don’t turn it up too loud.” I settled into the side chair with a shotgun across my knees and a small screwdriver in my hand. The pump action was sticking on it, and I figured a little maintenance couldn’t hurt. We had time. I needed another call from Nate before I could decide if it was time to ditch the seaside escape and send Charlie west.
She clicked the remote, and the wall-mounted flat screen brightened. It was set to a local news channel.
“—deaths that seem to be linked to mafia violence. Several men were found killed in a home on Lerner Street that was long known for gang violence. The police department is withholding the victims’ names until all next of kin have been notified.” The Lerner house loomed in the background of the shot, the front walk marked off with yellow police tape.
The screen went dark, the electric hum signaling the end of our TV-watching session.
“Those men.” Charlie tossed the remote away from her as if it were poison and crossed her arms over her stomach. “All dead.”
“Yeah.” I pulled back on the pump action to determine where the catch was. Seemed to be near the magazine.
“How many?”
I peered inside the gun and spotted a piece of worn metal jutting out a bit too far. “That I remember? Maybe six. But there were a few more that Nate handled.” I pressed the flathead against the metal, jamming it back into place.
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, how many people have you killed?”
I set the screwdriver on the windowsill and tried the action. It slid smoothly, nothing holding it back. A killing machine, created for one purpose.
“I don’t think you really want to know the answer to that question.” I leaned the gun on the wall and wiped the oil from my hands before walking into the bathroom to wash up.
She followed and watched me in the mirror. “If I can tell you about Jesse, you can tell me how many people you’ve killed.”
