by Julia Sykes
“She put a fucking bullet in my chest. I’m not going to forget that.”
I sighed. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him on this. “Did you need anything else?”
“You still haven’t helped me with the first thing I asked for,” he pointed out.
“I gave you my answer. No.”
“You’re being an overprotective bastard.”
“Cheers. I’ll ring you later, mate. Try to get some rest.” I ended the call before he could argue with me.
“Everything okay?” Clara asked, her features drawn with concern.
I kissed the top of her head. “Absolutely spiffing.”
She giggled. I loved that sound. “You’re getting even more Yorkshire, you know.”
“It’s because I’m home. So what do you think of York?”
Wonder lit up her eyes as she returned to her study of our surroundings. “It’s fantastic. I think this is my favorite part so far. It’s like Diagon Alley.”
I considered the medieval street from a fresh perspective, trying to see it as she did. There was something magical about the feel of the place. Or maybe it was just her. She made everything… more. She was clever and sassy, but she had a sweet innocence at her core that had blossomed over the last few months.
We ambled along the cobbled streets, engulfed by the warm scents of fish and chips, roast pork, and dark ale. A hint of rain thickened the air, but it wasn’t the miserable frigid drizzle Clara hated so much. I was grateful for that. I wanted the night to be perfect for her.
I led her into one of the snickleways that connected two wider pedestrian streets. The tiny alleys of York were only sparsely travelled – most were too narrow for two people to walk side by side. Clara had to press close against me just to fit in the small space. I didn’t mind that one bit.
The snickleway opened up into a small courtyard in front of a medieval hall. The place was closed for the night, and shadows pooled where the modern lights from the main streets didn’t quite reach, giving the place an eerie feel. Clara shivered beside me. The darker part of me enjoyed her trepidation.
I bent to whisper in her ear. “You’ve been a naughty wench, haven’t you?”
“What?” Her voice came out a touch higher than usual. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You bit me yesterday,” I reminded her.
“That was during sex. We were just messing around.” She tried to back away, but I caught her wrists.
“I’m your Dom. You don’t get to bite me.” In truth, I relished the memory. I loved how feisty she could be when we fucked. It made taming her that much more pleasurable.
“I can bite you whenever I want,” she huffed, tugging against my grip.
“Not without consequences.”
“Uh-uh. Nope. We aren’t doing anything out here.”
“Are we not?” I questioned. “I’ll give you one chance to cooperate. If you don’t, things will go much worse for you.”
She eyed me carefully, weighing her options. “Worse how?”
“Is that a no?” I didn’t give her an inch.
Finally, she dropped her eyes. “Okay.” Then her gaze flashed back up to mine, the corners of her lips curling upward. “But only because it sounds fun. Not because you told me to.”
I chuckled. “That’s my stubborn lass.”
I pressed my body against hers and kissed her hard, pinning her between me and the aged wooden beams of the building at her back. Her lips were tense under mine at first, and I could feel her hesitancy. She was worried other people would come down the alley and see us. It was a risk I thrilled to take. I didn’t tear my lips from hers until she softened in my arms.
“Now be a good girl and stay quiet,” I whispered against her mouth. “Unless you want to attract an audience. I wouldn’t object to it. I want everyone to bloody well know that I own you.”
“Hugh!” she exclaimed breathily, pushing at my chest. I didn’t budge.
“Shhh.” I blew a stream of cool air across her neck, then leaned in to heat her skin with my tongue. She shuddered and made that adorable needy whimper I loved so much.
I reached under her skirt and abruptly cupped her pussy. She was hot and wet against my hand. She shifted her hips against me, straining to stimulate her clit against my palm. She wasn’t wearing any panties.
It seemed she could follow orders, after all.
“You have been good,” I murmured against her throat, nipping at her delicate skin. “I think you deserve a reward.”
“I thought you were going to punish me,” she said, her voice so low it was barely audible.
“Later, pet. I want to fuck you now. And we both know that’s a reward.”
She snorted softly. “Cocky.”
“Cheeky,” I shot back.
Her laugh vibrated against my lips. It made my dick ache for her. I unzipped my slacks and pulled it free. I grabbed a condom from my back pocket and quickly sheathed myself. My other hand left her pussy to grab the back of her thigh, hooking her leg up over my hip. I entered her in one ruthless, blissful thrust.
I tasted her shocked cry on my tongue, devouring it. I took her hard and fast, our passion fueled by the thrill of fear at the chance of being caught.
“Anyone could walk by and see what I’m doing to you,” I rasped in her ear. My hand closed over her mouth to cover her soft moan. Something about the act was more satisfying than using a gag. This was more intimate, primal. I fucked her on the edge of violence, and she urged me on, her fingernails biting into the back of my neck as she clung to me.
This was how she liked it. Savage. She needed me to be harshly unbending so she could let go without shame. The challenge she posed every time I dominated her suited my tastes perfectly.
Pleasure surged through me, but I held it at bay. I could feel that she was close. Her pussy quivered around my cock, on the edge. My teeth sank into her neck, and she screamed out her climax. My fingers tightened around her face as I pressed my palm to her mouth to muffle the sound.
I barely managed to contain my own shout as I came inside her, unable to resist the tight heat rippling around my dick.
As I came down, I kissed the place I had bitten. My teeth had left little indentations in her skin. I smiled thinking how my mark would linger, how her cheeks would turn pink when she pulled her hair forward to cover it. It was almost enough to make my cock stiffen again.
But I had other plans.
I gently pulled out and steadied her, bracing my hands around her waist until she found her balance again. I was satisfied to realize her knees shook slightly. Our fuck might have been quick, but it was intense. Everything was intense with Clara. She was always full of fire. I would never grow bored of her.
I gave her a long, lingering kiss before I quickly cleaned up. Less than thirty seconds after we had straightened our clothes, a giggling couple burst out into the courtyard. Clara huffed out a nervous laugh and pressed close to me, steering me back down the snickleway to make a hasty retreat. I chuckled.
“They didn’t know what we were doing,” I told her.
“You don’t know!” she said, sounding mortified. “What if they heard?”
I shrugged. “What if they did? Even if they had watched us, you still would have come all over my cock.”
“Hugh!”
“Clara!” I mimicked her scandalized tone.
She couldn’t hold back a laugh. We rounded a corner, and her laugh ended on a soft gasp. The fantastic York Minster rose up before us. Ancient stone glowed golden under its evening lights.
“It’s like it’s not even real,” Clara said reverently. “How old is it?”
“I believe construction in stone began in the seventh century. There’s been a church on this site for centuries before that.”
She let out a low whistle. “It blows my mind that you guys have stuff this old here. I love it. We don’t have anything like this in America.”
Her lips pressed together in a
sad expression I was beginning to recognize all too well. I intended to eradicate it once and for all.
“You’re thinking about going home, aren’t you?” I asked, although I knew the answer.
She blinked rapidly, her eyes shining. “My visa expires next week. And I need to get back to my life.”
“So you want to go back to the NYPD?” I had to be sure of her desires. If she truly wanted to go back and rebuild her life in America, I would figure out a way to include myself in that. I had another plan, though.
“I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “I still want to help people, but I think I’ve seen enough violence. I might teach self-defense classes. Or maybe even go back to school to study counseling. I’d like to be able to help women who have survived trauma. I can’t stop thinking about those women we rescued from Dimitri, and how I wish I could have done more for them.”
“If you studied here, I could get you a student visa,” I told her. “Although I was planning on arranging a fiancé visa for you.”
“Oh, do you really think-” She stopped. Blinked. “Say that again.”
I couldn’t hold back my grin. “I’ve put in the paperwork to get you permission to stay under a fiancé visa. Unless you’d rather go back to America. Of course, we’ll still go across the Pond to see your parents and friends right away.”
“Wait. Wait.” She took a sharp breath. “Are you proposing right now? This is a proposal?”
“I guess I’m not proposing so much as I’m announcing that I intend to marry you,” I allowed.
She slapped my arm, but she was smiling. “This is seriously how you’re proposing to me? By announcing that you’ve put in paperwork?”
“I thought the actual proposal might go something more like this.” I got down on one knee and retrieved the small black ring box from my pocket, opening it to reveal the sapphire and diamond art deco ring I had picked out. The stones were nearly indestructible, but the intricate metalwork was delicate. It was perfect for her.
“Clara Peterson, I love you. I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you. Will you marry me?”
A single tear spilled down her cheek. For one gut-wrenching moment, she remained silent.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes! I’ll marry you, Hugh.”
My hand steadied her trembling one so I could slip the ring on her finger. She stared at it in awe.
“Is this for real?” she asked softly. “Are we really doing this?”
“Yes, pet. We’re really doing this.”
More tears spilled. “It’s just… I never thought I would do this again. Getting married, I mean.”
I pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. She needed me to be firmly in her space right now. I wouldn’t allow her worries over the past to draw her away from me.
“I love you,” I told her earnestly. “I will do everything in my power to make you happy. You know I’ll never let anyone hurt you, especially not me.”
“I know.” She sniffled and her smile returned. “I trust you.”
“I trust you, too.” She was no longer the dirty little liar I had met all those months ago. She had learned to be honest with me – and herself. I could trust her with my heart. With my life. And now I intended to spend the rest of it with her.
The End
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Finlay and Alicia will be back in Highlander, the next installment in the Impossible Series! (Coming Soon!)
Want to know more about Clara’s first encounter with Dimitri and her relationship with Charlotte? Check out Charlotte and Javier’s story in King!
My father gave me to him as a bargaining chip, as though I was nothing more than flesh to be traded. I hate him for that, and I hate the man who took me: Javier Santiago, a member of the violent Latin Kings.
Even though I don’t want to belong to him, he is fiercely possessive of me. And when his ownership is threatened, his enemies aren’t the only ones to suffer. He says my freedom is the price for my safety. I think he just wants to keep me all for himself.
Excerpt
My dad was a real asshole. I knew full well that Jonas Carter was a drug dealer, a murderer, and an abusive bastard. And yet I was walking toward him, yearning for the slim promise of affection he offered me.
“Charlotte!” He grinned his cruelly perfect grin and opened his arms to welcome me. Such a bad man shouldn’t be allowed to look so innocuous. His shoulder-length brown hair had mostly turned to steel grey since the last time I had seen him, but the signs of age suited him. The crow’s feet around his dark eyes made him seem kinder; the way they crinkled made his smile deceptively warm.
I tentatively stepped into his arms. The feel of them closing around me was perversely comforting. It was the fulfillment of a little girl’s desires that I couldn’t quite manage to shake, even after twenty-one years of emotional and physical pain.
“What are you doing here?” My brother’s voice was completely devoid of the usual kindness he showed me. I pulled out of my father’s arms, turning a guilty glance at Derek. One look at his square, clenched jaw and flashing gold eyes had me staring at the floor as though I had been caught doing something shameful. Derek hated Jonas, and rightly so.
Jonas’ smile sharpened when he turned it on my brother. The animosity between the two was too deep-seated to be fully masked by my father’s suave demeanor.
“I thought we could have a little family reunion,” he said smoothly.
“You thought wrong,” Derek growled. “You wouldn’t be here unless you wanted something. Tell me what it is so I can kick your pathetic ass out of my club.”
The smile didn’t slip from Jonas’ face in the wake of Derek’s overt aggression. “You’re right. I do want something. First, let me introduce you to my friends.”
“I’m not interested in meeting your friends. Get the fuck out.” Derek took a menacing step toward Jonas.
My father went from smoothly cordial to coldly threatening in the space of a second. His hand closed around my upper arm, and I gasped as he jerked my body up against his. Something hard pressed against my ribs. Derek froze.
Confusion solidified to fear when I looked down. My father was holding a gun to my side.
“Dad?” My voice trembled with incredulity.
“Be a good girl and shut up, sweetie.” His tone was casual, but the unyielding metal pressed into me in reprimand. I winced, but I didn’t dare make a sound. Jonas kept his attention on Derek, whose muscles were bulging with silent rage. “My friends are waiting outside,” he informed my brother. “Let them in.”
Derek hesitated, and Jonas’ hand tightened to a vice around my arm. I sucked in a pained breath.
“Do what I say, or I’ll hurt her. You know I’ll do it.”
My stomach dropped. How could I have thought Dad had changed for even a moment? Even though the FBI had recently destroyed his life by taking out his precious Irish Mob, he was still a Westie. He was still the abusive, ruthless man he had always been.
Cold coiled in my gut as I realized the worst was yet to come. He had planned this trap for Derek and me. I cursed myself for leaving my apartment. If only I had stayed in my cushy, safe little world at Hudson University, my father wouldn’t be using me to get to Derek.
“I’m sorry.” I mouthed the words. I knew better than to speak when my father told me to shut up.
Derek’s nostrils flared, and he tore his eyes from mine. He steps were stilted, but he crossed the bar to open the door. He loved his club, and it must be killing him to have Jonas using it as his battleground. But he loved me more.
The latch clicked back, but Derek’s hulking body blocked the open doorway. “We’re closed. Go away.”
“Let them in, Derek.” Jonas’ command lashed across the empty club. The gun drove further into my ribs, and I couldn’t stop the small whimper that slipped through my clenched teeth. Derek’s shoulders stiffened at the
sound, and he took a step back to admit the strangers.
The first man nearly body-checked Derek, physically shoving him aside. His lips were twisted in a cruel sneer. The flash of his white teeth was made all the more striking by the dark tattoos that swirled up his neck, extending over his jaw.
Four equally hard-looking men followed him in, walking past Derek as though he wasn’t even there. Five pairs of dark eyes riveted on me, and I couldn’t help shrinking back against my father. Even though he held a gun on me, the familiar danger was less frightening than the unknown threat posed by the strangers.
Taking a deep breath, I gave voice to what I hoped was the truth. “Let me go, Dad.” I managed to speak steadily to my father while keeping a wary eye on the heavy-set men who had come to a stop just a few feet away from us. “We both know you won’t kill me.”
“No,” my father agreed. “I won’t kill you, sweetie. That would be a waste.” He released my arm to grab my wrist. The gun shifted so that the barrel rested against my palm. “But I will blow a hole through your pretty little hands if you don’t shut up. Or I could take out your kneecaps. I don’t need you whole for this deal.”
“Let her go, Jonas,” Derek barked. “Whatever it is you want, deal with me. Leave Charlotte out of this.”
For one sick, selfish moment, I wished my big brother would just take care of this. I wanted to run away from the club and leave him to deal with all the danger. My hand trembled against the gun, but I didn’t dare move away.
“I will deal with you, but she’s not leaving,” Jonas declared.
“I don’t give a shit about your family issues,” the tattooed man spoke for the first time. The words came out in a heavily accented rumble. “What do you want, Carter? You said you have something to offer us. If you lied, your daughter won’t be the only one who gets kneecapped.”
Jonas’ fist left my wrist to tangle in my hair, pulling until my back arched and I was forced up onto my toes.
“I have my daughter to offer you, Ortiz. I’ll give her to you as a show of good faith. In return, all I ask is that you allow me to work with you.”
