Variations (Base Branch Series Book 9)
Page 15
“Of course, you don’t, but I do.” He raised his hand and waved it around like he was back in grade school, and the teacher ignored him.
“No, you don’t.”
“What’d she say?” Oliver’s irritation peaked.
“Don’t worry about it. Marina is a tough girl. She can handle it.”
“How do you know? How did this even come to pass that sweet Marina was stuck in a room with a vicious killer? This isn’t her job. She doesn’t do this stuff.”
“Yes, it is.” Cara chuckled.
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s on loan from Stronghold. Our girl’s been flipping people for them for the last two months.”
“Stronghold?” He was going to kill someone, namely Cord, for just now informing him of Marina’s involvement with this shit.
“She’s damn good at it.” Cara slid him a first glance and a sly smile. “You’ll see.”
The two women behind the glass went at it back and forth, spat for spat for some time. Marina held an even tone, but he could tell she clung to it desperately. The girl's words took their toll. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and run away with her.
When Chang Si’s daughter stood, Oliver did as well. His hand flew to the seamless door that connected the two rooms.
“No,” Cara barked. “I’ll be the judge of that. Thank you very much.”
“She’s—”
“Do I hear the Galleria calling your name?” Cara cupped a hand to her ear.
Oliver’s hand dropped.
“You’ll much rather deal with mall traffic than Marina if you interrupt her progress.”
He clamped teeth into both lips and dragged a hand over his beard.
“She’s not a sympathizer. She’s a scared girl who’s never had a choice in her entire life. Marina is giving that to her, a choice.”
The crazy woman really thought a girl raised by one of the most heinous leaders of the Wah Ching, an international gang with a reputation for the unspeakable, would fold against him. His gaze narrowed on Cara. “This girl—”
Cara’s widening eyes stopped him cold.
When he turned to the room, the girl closed the distance between her and Marina in a lightning’s strike, grabbing her from behind. Si’s daughter pinned her thin forearm to his woman’s throat in a vise.
Adrenaline fueled his reaction, swift and sure.
“Move,” Cara cried.
Too fucking late. Oliver was through the door and ready to play the human can opener on the girl’s skull.
Don’t hit women, unless they really needed to be hit. Then don’t discriminate.
“No,” Marina gagged the command. Her outstretched stop-sign palm and pleading eyes pulled him up short. “No,” she said again more clearly.
Dark almond shaped eyes pinched and shifted from him to Marina, and probably Cara behind him.
Oliver held his ground but only by the tips of his fingernails. One move and the gang leader’s daughter was his.
“I won’t let her hurt you,” he growled. Hypocritical much? He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, but he’d been the one causing her pain. He wanted to hold her and love her, no matter. Why did it take a psychotic woman threatening her life for him to see it?
Because for the last six months, all he’d seen was his past.
“She’s giving her a choice.” Cara pulled on his arm. He didn’t budge.
“It looks like she’s made her choice.” His fists bunched.
Marina continued to speak in a damned language he didn’t comprehend. The girl must have eased her grip because he could make out the words, and she was no longer gagging.
The girl didn’t speak, but she released Marina’s throat.
Bless it all, but Marina smiled at him as brilliantly as he’d ever seen. It lifted him off his feet and set him back on a pile of clouds.
“When a woman lives her whole life in fear, she doesn’t know what an honest choice looks like.” Marina hiked her thick brow. “I didn’t trust you when we first met, but right now, I need you to trust me. Go, and give me time.”
Cara pulled at his arm again, but he shrugged her off. He looked past Marina to the girl. “What’s your name?”
The girl’s head tilted.
Marina turned to her and translated.
After a few beats, the young thing lifted her gaze to him. “Lang.”
“Lang,” he addressed her directly. She couldn’t be more than fifteen years old. Damn, she was a baby. “Please, don’t hurt Marina. She means…a lot to me.”
“How much?” Lang asked, surprising him.
The question might have put him on the defensive. He revealed a weakness to his enemy, but he trusted Marina. If she thought Lang meant her no real harm, he had to think the same.
He held Lang’s gaze, and his breath and heart leaped. “She means everything.”
Lang smiled and said something to Marina in Mandarin, something she didn’t want him to know.
A flush colored Marina from cheek to chest. Yes, even in the mayhem, he’d noticed her low-cut top.
Lang’s smile melted into sadness. Her first tear signaled his and Cara’s retreat. They waited in stunned silence as the violent teen morphed into a scared, sorrowful child. Marina held the girl close. She patted her hair and listened to the series of stories the girl told. He still couldn’t comprehend a word, but the frightened tones and contented smile on Marina’s face told him she’d made headway.
No matter how much he hated the thought of Marina in harm’s way, he saw how much she loved the job and how much the job needed her.
21
Marina tucked Lang Si into the bed and stroked her hair until her breaths turned long and steady. Even after she was certain the girl was asleep, she stayed. Her reluctance to leave stemmed more from her fear of seeing Oliver again and tossing herself into his arms than from abandoning the poor child.
Lang made the right choice; the choice she’d wanted the chance to make her entire life. She’d be united with her mother who fled Hong Kong in fear of her husband. The information Lang relayed would put her father in line with a firing squad, which was no less than the devil deserved.
As though walking to her death, Marina headed to the observatory door. Cara opened it and greeted her with a stunning smile. Disappointment embraced her. She’d feared seeing him again but had hoped beyond reason that he’d stand behind the words he’d said to Lang.
“She’s agreed to the terms.” Marina beamed the full wattage of her joy for Lang onto Cara.
“Great work.” The closest person to a mother she ever had spread her arms. Marina stepped into the woman’s open embrace and gave as good as she got with an enthusiastic hug. Cara pulled her into the room and closed the door. “Really, I wouldn't have lasted. You should be proud of yourself. I am proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
When they separated, Cara grabbed her shoulders and squeezed, and then stepped aside. Oliver leaned against the back wall in the solid concrete box with one boot kicked across the other.
“Well, I’ll start on the paperwork. It’s the shittiest part of the job.” Cara pushed her toward Oliver and retreated.
Her body temperature jumped ten degrees with the click of the door finding its frame. Oliver’s intense stare stoked her temperature. She’d feel it in the middle of a crowded room on an open field, but these small, secluded confines amplified her awareness of him.
“What you did for her was amazing, Marina.”
The sound of her name on his lips stroked her torso to tits. Add in his approval of her newfound skills, and desire pooled between her legs. Her breaths came too fast for the time and place. She focused and drew a deep breath.
His eyes followed the rise and fall of her chest.
“It was no less than what you did for me.” Marina licked her lips and swallowed the excess saliva in her mouth.
Dark blue eyes lit with mischief. He eased off the wall. Six feet separated them,
but he towered over her, smothering her in raw sexuality.
“It was a little less.” A deep rumble lifted from his chest and mixed with a sigh in his throat.
The sound licked its way across her clit as his mouth had, too long ago.
Marina’s breath caught at the comprehension of his meaning. The image of him wedged between her legs and lapping forced the air back into her lungs with a whoosh, leaving her stunned and not knowing what to do. Surely, she was misinterpreting his words and signals. After tossing herself into his arms and crying all over him the other night, she could take no more embarrassment. She chose the only tactic that came to mind—evasion.
“Thank you for trusting me today. Lang really is a good girl. She’s just been forced into some horrible situations.”
He kept quiet and assessed her beneath a heavy-lidded gaze.
“Mostly, thank you for saving me.”
His throat worked, and his sexy gaze hardened.
Embarrassment would have been a better route than his irritation. Of course, any mention of her rescue most likely incited memories of Hunter. Marina nodded and turned to the door. Time to go.
“I’d do it again.” Oliver’s voice was closer and deeper than before.
Her head dropped until it nearly rested on the cold metal. Emotions warred inside her. Need and guilt slugged it out. The saddest one conquered, as it did too often.
“It cost you a lot,” Marina whispered.
“I should have told you months ago, but I was too busy shoveling through my own shit. At your party, I went specifically to tell you. When I saw you… You looked so happy and strong and beautiful. I thought you’d moved on, that you didn’t need to hear what I had to say.”
Marina rocked her head on the door, fighting back the tears and wondering if she’d ever move on.
“I was wrong. Bonnie, I don’t blame you for Hunter’s death. It wasn’t your fault.”
The nickname flayed her open more than her own name on his lips. Her name had been with her all her life, but he’d given her that moniker and used it during the best time of her life, which was forever tainted.
“Yes, that mission cost me a lot, but it’d cost me more to have never known you.” His voice moved closer still.
He was so close; she wanted to reach out, grab hold, and never let him go. Instead, she gripped the knob with both hands. Her eyes pinched shut against the yearning that ripped her tattered heart to shreds.
“You can’t pine over something you’ve never known.” Marina shook away his notion.
Oliver’s heat cocooned her shoulders to butt. She felt his breaths dampen the side of her neck, and her lids snapped wide. The breadth of his shoulders crowded her periphery. He lifted her hair off her left shoulder and shifted it to the other.
A moan snuck its way through her lips.
Then his lips were on her. He trailed wet kisses from her shoulder up the sensitive skin of her neck to the shell of her ear.
“I’ve never known your mouth on my cock or the slick, tight heat of your sweet pussy. It hasn’t stopped me from dreaming about them every damn day. So come on, Bonnie, stop lying to yourself and don’t lie to me.”
His hands might as well roam her body because his words did. The weight of her breasts doubled, as well as the cadence of her breaths. Her head lifted from the door.
“No more secrets.” She sank her weight onto his chest, pressing the newly formed curves of her bottom against him.
“Mmm. You still think you can’t pine over something you’ve never known?” His teeth rasped her lobe, begging a response.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Never again.” No matter how much it hurt, she’d reveal the ugliest parts of her soul, if he asked her to.
“Now, tell me a secret, Bonnie.”
The timbre of his voice cascaded down her spine, and the words rolled off her lips. The truest truth. The thing that would get her hurt. The thing she couldn’t refuse.
“I can’t hold anything back from you.”
Not even my heart.
“Then don’t.”
If he’d heard her thoughts, would his response have been the same?
His hand slipped up her nape. Fingers delved into her locks and clamped on skin and hair. It didn’t matter. Today, she’d live for his touch, even if its absence tomorrow would kill her.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
Marina’s hands dropped to her side and then sought Oliver. She found the rough expanse of his jeans covered thighs and held on for dear life.
No more secrets. Save for one. If he only asked, though…
“I want you, Oliver. I want you inside me no matter the cost. If only this once, I’ll take whatever you give.”
“You deserve better than a concrete room.”
Marina depressed the lock on the knob. “I don’t care about the room. You’re here. I’m here. It’s all that matters.”
Her breath stalled inside her chest, awaiting his decision. Dark tentacles of disappointment crept into her psyche. She needed him to own her, master her as he’d done that first night. With each informant she turned, her past became easier to bear. If he treated her differently, especially because of her past, it would never work.
Oliver tugged back her head, exposing her neck. His tongue scraped its way to the edge of her shirt. He grabbed the thin strap and dragged it down her shoulder. Lips, teeth, and tongue devoured her exposed flesh as if she was his first meal in months. Like she was just a woman and he was just a man.
Pasts and fears fell away, replaced by touch and sound.
Harsh, rasped breaths ricocheted off the door and caressed their way over her burning skin. He shifted her head. With sure hands, he shoved the other strap down her shoulder and bunched the material around her waist.
Teal lace and cleavage reminded her of freedom. Marina arched her ass against him and ground her hips. A full bound erection and rock-hard thighs massaged her
new curves.
“Yes, Marina. That’s good.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. The wire of his whiskers tickled her shoulder. His gaze on her breasts spread a smile across her face. “Wicked woman. Feel what you do to me? What you’ve done to me since the first day.”
Oliver cupped her full mounds through her bra and molded them in his hands. Hard grips and strokes shoved them damn near her chin.
She loved it. Her clit throbbed against her panties, while her nipples threatened to pierce the thin material. The rhythm of his touch and the sway of her hips drove her near to madness. Breaths turned to moans. Attempted words turned to broken gasps.
“Want more?”
“Mmmm. Mmmm.” She nodded vigorously, unable to speak.
He ripped down the cups of her bra, exposing red, ready flesh. His palms danced over them in large circles. Marina’s head dropped back. The circles grew tighter, faster. Her already sensitive buds tweaked in pain.
“Oliver, yes. Oh, yes.” The burn of pain steamed into unadulterated pleasure. He alternated squeezing and massaging, circling and tweaking. Over and over. The faster he moved, the faster she pumped her hips until she broke. “More. Please, more.”
Teeth locked onto her right shoulder, Oliver grabbed her hips in an abrupt stop. A whimper squeaked out of her throat. He held her completely still for too many seconds. Her chest heaved with breaths. His did too. They bounced off the walls and made beautiful music.
Finally, he tilted her hips forward. Marina caught herself on the door, palms splayed. Oliver lowered his hips and pressed the ridge of his cock against her folds through the layers of their clothes.
Sweet Jesus.
His hips rolled as if they were made for dancing and fucking, not fighting. He stroked her tip to root. She pressed her cheek to the door and watched him work over her shoulder. Her legs quaked. Her breathing shallowed and sped.
Marina’s eyes clamped. Pleasure drowned her. Bone became liquid. Muscles turned to gel. Only her skin held her
taut, and Oliver held her up. She sighed through the last of her orgasm.
Oliver’s hips stopped and then slowed. Her eyes shot wide.
“Don’t stop. I want it all, you inside me.” If he cheated her like before—
“A goddamned security breach couldn't make me.” His hands flew to the front of her pants, unfastened them, and dragged them to her feet as he sank to his knees.
While her full ass poked in his face, Marina fought the self-awareness that crept in. He tossed each shoe to the side and pulled off her pants. The moment his hands bit into her cheeks, her awareness refocused.
Oliver gnashed his teeth across her plumped skin and then peppered it with kisses, saturating her old scar with adoration. On the other side, he sucked flesh into his mouth. The suction broke with a pop, and a red circle remained in the imperfect O of his mouth. His hands and mouth worked their way around her butt.
Desire swelled inside her needing more than his mouth. “More, Oliver. I want you.”
His grip bit into her hips, and he turned her from the door to face him. The beautiful, broken man on the floor at her feet stole her heart all over again.
“Lean against the door, Bonnie.”
He held her hips in place and pressed a finger to her sternum, urging her to take the plunge.
Her back bowed, and her shoulders met the cold metal, leaving her intimate flesh exposed. Oliver’s eyes locked on it. Fingers still sunk into her hip, holding her in place, he leaned forward. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. Excruciatingly slowly, the hot wetness crept up her lower lips to the tip of her clit.
A rumbled moan ripped from his chest. He rested his forehead on her lower belly and rubbed his face against her as though he couldn’t take it. What, she didn't know.
“Oliver.” She sighed his name.
“Marina, you’re so much. It’s been too long.” He trailed kisses down her belly to her slit. The width of his shoulders spread her legs and his face burrowed in her pussy. As slow and intentional as he’d been before, he licked and sucked with total abandon now. His palms rubbed decadent circles on her cheeks. His mouth ate her.
A dull ringing grazed the top of her brain. Oliver kept his insatiable pace, licking her into a sighing, moaning mess.