He lifted my chin and my ass tilted up as his weight pressed on my back. His thigh moved between my parted legs. I shuddered. “Now,” his voice was like sand and molasses, “Punishment time.”
ER BACK ARCHED as I drew my cock back along her soft, hot channel. I rubbed the back of it against her, pulled it deeper into her lips. Then I slid my hand down to squeeze and pinch her breast again and she moaned.
I’ve never wanted a woman more than I wanted her right then, but I held back to make her wait. Anticipate. Wonder exactly what was coming. But the urge was so strong, it took all of my willpower not to just slam inside her, stretch her wide and hear her howl.
One great thing about a loft in a deserted part of the borough. She could shout and howl all she wanted and nobody was going to hear her or care. And I thought about revenge.
My cock was pumped and stretched so hard it ached. My balls were cramped, too. I should have just gotten a fuck as soon as I got out of the joint. Gone to a bar, found a couple of women and spent my frustration there. But whenever I thought about it, all I could see in my mind’s eye was her face. And all that I could think of was the smell of her pussy and the toned flex of her curves. Vesper’s ripe, eager body. It was everything that I wanted.
Now I was going to rip her open. Stretch her wide. The yank of my shackled wrist only added to the force, the need of it. It made me feel like an animal. A caged animal, straining for its freedom. I slid my hand down her stomach and I grunted as I pulled her thighs wider apart.
Her soft whimper made me even harder. Her hips rolled against me, pressing like a kitten that wants to be fed. The head of my cock pressed against the wet heat of her lips. I felt her flesh vibrate. She was so wet, one push and her lips parted. She jolted and gasped as my huge cock split her quivering wet opening. A moan scraped up her throat. Her hips squirmed as I waited. A spontaneously evil grin stretched my lips as I watched her eyebrows rise.
I grabbed her hair and pulled her head down. Her breasts spilled and squashed between us. The whole of her jumped when I pushed just a fraction harder into her. Holding her by the hair, I leaned down to growl into her ear. “You ready?”
Her head shook quickly. I pulled her head up to watch her eyebrows arch, pleading.
“Good.” She let out a high, startled moan and she fell forward to bite into her arm as I drove into her. Firmly, deliberately, all the way. Her thighs shook. My cock parted her and split her. I rammed it in mercilessly and I pushed it all the way up until my hips ground into her ass and my thighs pressed hard against hers.
As I dragged back out, shoving and scraping against the high front of her, even with her mouth sealed on her arm, her moan rasped and shook, high and loud. I slapped her ass. The way her flesh rippled and her high squeal made me stiffen more. I slapped her again.
Her ass cheeks clenched in spasms as I fucked her. The backs of her thighs trembled. Her chest and her neck reddened and the glow spread up to her cheeks. Her face was wet and she howled into her arm.
Her delicious little pussy slipped and gripped, hungry and fearful on my cock. The sensation of her coming made me want to let go and canon into her harder and harder. Slam her, fill her and fountain into her.
As her walls stretched around my shaft I pulled hard to scrape her high inside at the front and saw deep by the base of her clit. I gripped her hard with my free hand to make all the traction I could and plow hard into every part of her.
I would. I did. After I slapped her ass, flipped her over, filled her and drilled her in three more angles, I made her come again. Then again. Another six times in all. I didn’t stop hammering her until she wept and begged me to stop. Not until her tongue lolled and her cheeks, her neck, and her chest glowed red and her hair dripped wet.
Then she shook all over, clenched with her breath held tight, shook again and let go of the longest, desperate, shuddering moan. When she stopped shaking, then I stopped.
She rocked, softly. And I held her. Cradled her. Tried to stay angry as I stroked her wet face.
The elevator clunked and woke me. Blades of light said it was morning. I was asleep on the wood floor. Where was she? Instinctively I sprang toward the elevator door. My arm yanked hard and twisted raw in the cuff.
All my training told me not to shout her name. Then I saw her, heading toward me from the far end of the loft. She could have been in the bathroom. Making another call, maybe, who knew? I know she thought I might not have heard her make a call last night.
Wishful thinking is something I wouldn’t have expected of her. Not with her hardheaded and practical approach to everything. Well, almost everything. She did always seem to want the most difficult and impractical kind of a fuck that it was possible to have, as well as the longest and hardest. But I couldn’t really fault her for any of that.
A more immediate concern was getting the elevator door open, if only a crack, so that whoever called it from the ground floor, it wouldn’t go rattling down to collect them. I didn’t remember seeing the indicator on the first floor, so there was no way to tell whether our unexpected visitors already knew our whereabouts or not.
I heard no other sound, no clue to what we could expect coming up to greet us. At the cracks around the blinds, the light seemed weak, like early morning. Those two facts together were bad omens.
A quiet invasion, early in the morning. I was certain that our visitors were an agency of the law. Whatever else they may do, criminals don’t like to get up too early. Not without a very good reason. A good reason would most often need to be a pretty huge amount of money.
Vesper lunged at the elevator door. She grabbed at the metal handle, but I heard the safety lock secure the door before she could pull on it. The elevator clunked and the gears of the motor ground. She looked over at me with panic on her face. Her hand dived into her pocket for her keys. I pointed to where she had thrown the keys last night while I tugged at my jacket to reach my gun.
I got to the gun. She skidded the keys across the floor. I caught them and freed myself from the radiator. I scrambled up and pulled on my jacket. Dragged the weapons case with me to the nearest of the stairs.
The stairs were narrow, the weapons case was heavy, and my muscles protested but I dashed, hefting the case of weapons as quietly as I could. We hurried down to the next floor. I whispered, “Our best hope is that they all come up in the elevator, and they come straight to the third floor.”
Vesper looked pained and worried as she nodded, following me through the door. She must have felt bad. Unless Noah gave us this place and the arms just so he could turn us over, which seemed pretty unlikely, the call that she made last night must have been the clue that brought our surprise guests.
The second floor was dark and empty. The elevator shook and shuddered. We breathed hard as we stood either side of the folding door. The freight car clattered as it slowly rose. It didn’t slow as it reached us, and it kept on going up.
I took two machine pistols and a couple of clips from the weapons case while Vesper grabbed a Ruger pistol and some ammo. Very gently so as not to disturb the dust, I moved a dirty tarp from the wall stashed the case behind it. There wasn’t enough light to know how good a job I’d made of it, but it was what it was.
Vesper followed me as I padded quickly across the floor to the bathroom. It was in the same location as the one on the upper floor.
She closed the door quietly behind us. The small window opened easily and looked out. We were at the back of the building. A narrow, unlit yard was below us and no one was visible on the ground.
I asked her, “Can you climb down the drainpipe?”
Without even looking out she nodded. I was about to ask if she wanted to go first or second, but she was halfway through the window before I could start. She sprang through the window. I was distracted while my body remembered the supple strength of her arms and legs, and the softness of her curves. Some of the reasons my muscles buzzed and ached now.
She was fast and quiet, climbing eff
ortlessly. Inside me a surge of feeling rose for her. In my head, I was grinding over her idiotic choice to make a call. I wondered if that was really the reason she cuffed me. Then I remembered what she did with me, secured against the radiator. I wouldn’t make a beef about any of those decisions.
Climbing after her quickly and quietly, all the way to the ground, I looked about us. From the back of the building, there was no way to tell for certain who our morning visitors were. Not even how many of them there were. Whatever we did from here would have to be fast and decisive. Whoever they were, the initiative was all on their side.
We kept low and close to the wall as we skirted the building. I drew a gun and kept it pointed down as I led us the long way around, as it would take us nearest to the shuttered door. We ducked under windows and crept until we got to the front. Outside was a single black Hummer. Empty. At the edge of the door, I peered inside. Just one guy with his back to us.
He was dressed like a Fed, though he had more the build of a middle-aged cop. As fast as I could, I snuck up behind him. I was ready to slug him when Vesper grabbed my shoulder to stop me. She motioned for me to stay back and put her hand over the guy’s mouth and held him.
“Schultz,” she quickly whispered into his ear. When he heard her voice, he stopped putting up a struggle. “Who’s leading this?” she demanded, “Who’s upstairs?”
She took her hand off his mouth to let him speak. He didn’t turn his head, I guessed so as not to get a look at me.
All he said was “The SAC. With Daniels and a small SWAT team. Four guys.”
Her eyes narrowed. “‘Locate and secure’ orders?”
Slowly he nodded.
“Does the SAC know that I’m here?”
He nodded again. Then he said quietly, “You’d better be gone.” And his lip tightened. “I need to be out cold before you go.”
“I’ll be gentle,” Vesper said. I knew that was wrong. So did Schultz and he shook his head.
I under my breath, “I’ll do it.” Almost immediately, Schultz nodded.
It was a hard enough whack on the back of his head to be messy. There would be an impressive show of blood, but he wouldn’t come to any real harm. She moved to catch him as he pitched forward. I stopped her.
“He’ll need the graze on his forehead.” I looked in her narrowed eyes, “For better or worse, Vesper, you’d never make it as a crook.”
It would look bad for him if there was any sign that he wasn’t brutally ambushed. If we left any suspicion of him having played along, the guy would be toast.
Her lips tightened. “It’s a good thing I’m such a great enforcer then. Isn’t it.”
And just when we were getting along so well. That stung a bit. Vesper fired up the Jeep while I stuck a long knife into two of the Hummer’s tires and made big gashes.
As he hauled out of the lot, I thought about where we were at. We’d definitely lost Noah’s weapons stash. I just hoped they wouldn’t find the case and make a connection to Braxton with the arms inside it. I would have to call and let him know pretty soon, although I was all out of fresh throwaway phones. After Vesper’s call last night, I wasn’t about to risk using a phone even for a second time.
As she swung the Jeep into the early morning traffic, I was fighting a rising urge to panic. The feelings that I had for Vesper were something I’d tried to deny or at least to keep a lid on all the time I was in jail. Back then all I thought about was how I could exact revenge on her. I sometimes allowed those thoughts to mingle with the other feelings. But deep down, it was getting hard to deny that I had a soft spot, a weakness, for her.
How far could I trust this damned Fed? There were too many people trying to make me be dead. Didn’t matter how wonderful a fuck she was, or how lovely the light in her eyes was when she came, this was all getting dangerously serious.
DROVE US BACK to Manhattan but with no destination in mind. The exertions and the exhilaration of the night and the stressed early morning wake up call had left me feeling adrift.
It was like we’d been chased out of everywhere. I felt like we were running from a tornado, and just about barely keeping ahead.
He made me stop at almost every medium-sized convenience store or mini-mart while he went in to buy pre-paid credit cards and cheap, pay-as-you-go cell phones.
“Just one of each at a time.” He said, coming back with the second purchase.
I told him, “You know there will be a CCTV of you buying that.”
“Sure.” He flashed that grin that made me melt. “But someone still has to track it down. That’s why you use as small a store as you can. Someone has to look up where the card or the phone was sold then they’ll have to look on the register to find out what time, and then get the CCTV. It all takes time. If you never use a phone twice, they have to do that for every call you make.”
He certainly had a handle on the procedure. “Each time they’ve got a little more information, they know a bit more about your movements.”
“Yeah,” he said, “But each time, you’re a couple of hours farther ahead.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot.”
“I just did a masters degree in the university of crime, remember?” His eye sparked and it made me jump. “Thanks to the five-year scholarship you got me.”
“Look,” I said. I wanted it out of the way. “About that.”
“Not now.” He said, “Pull up on the corner here.” I did and he jumped out. “I’ll meet you a block along and a block left, okay?” He was dialing the phone as I pulled away. I drove as he’d directed. He went the other way. I parked up on the corner where he’d said and waited. I wondered whether he wanted to not be in the car when he made a call, so as not to have the car identified when the phone was tracked.
If he was as knowledgeable as he seemed about the use and hazards of cell phone tracking, he’d know that tying a phone to a car in the city really hard without very long conversations, singe the tracking only places the caller to in a range of about thirty yards. That’s a lot of cars in Manhattan. Or in any city.
No, I figured he wanted to be able to talk without me overhearing. I guess he heard me call the SAC from the bathroom in the loft. I had no way to know whether he knew that was who I’d called.
All I had done was to check in. I didn’t say where I was. I didn’t even learn much. I had the distinct feeling that Horse thought that call was how our location was blown. A Bureau agent wouldn’t have acted that way, I was sure of it. They must not have known that I was there. The SAC would have given me a heads up if they were coming for the location where they knew that I was.
No, Horse’s buddy Noah Braxton must have tipped them off, but I knew better than to try and convince Horse of that. He came along the sidewalk, in the shadows close to the buildings and with his face down into his lapels. Before he drew level with the car I leaned across to pop the door open for him.
I started the car. As he climbed in I saw him folding away the scowl he’d plainly been carrying. We drove through the slow metal flow of contained aggression that was Manhattan as it jostled and slugged its way to work. I wanted to know who he had called – but I guessed he would have called Noah first. Horse was an army guy. You could see it in him. Looking out for his buddies and teammates was a high priority.
Did he consider me on his team at this point, I wondered, were we on the same side in his eyes? As I drove I snatched a look at his face. Maybe I was over-analyzing things, but I thought he was being guarded with me. Holding himself a little farther away than he needed to, keeping his eyes hooded. His lips were thin and his mouth was tight.
I couldn’t stand it too much longer and I cracked and asked him, “Did you call Noah?”
He looked back at me. I saw the caution in his eyes.
I said, “That’s just who I thought you would call first. Make sure he was aware and prepared. Just in case.”
Hunter: Perfect Revenge (Perfectly Book 3) Page 15
