by Kim Linwood
Maybe that’s the preferable outcome, considering the alternative is a ditch with a bullet in the back of my skull.
22
Payne
“This better be important.” I’m sick of seeing Vito’s Pizzeria show up on my screen. Whoever decided it would be a funny cover was an idiot. Just goes to show what kind of grip they’ve got on this town. They’re not even fucking trying anymore.
“Well, hello to you too, sunshine.” Tony’s voice grates against my nerves, pissing me off before I even know why. Fuck, if he wasn’t paying the bill…
“Cut to the chase. I’ve got shit to do.”
“Really?” He says it slowly, voice dripping sarcasm. “Because I don’t know what the fuck you think we’re paying you for, but I can tell you right now it’s not dancing around town with some cop. Is she a problem?”
Nora flits through my mind. Her sleepy face as she kissed me before she rolled out of my bed this morning and headed to work. The smile on her face before passing out the door.
“No.” My voice is clipped.
Another image replaces it. Her eyes wide and skin spattered in Trabucco’s blood, mouth slowly opening to scream as she realizes it’s already too late.
The past, then the future.
Guilt. Is this what it feels like?
I have to say, not a big fan.
For once, the cool leather of my rifle case under my fingers does nothing to soothe my nerves. “It’ll be done with time to spare.”
“Good.” He grunts in acceptance. “So it won’t be a problem to tack on a little side project, then.”
Oh, this can’t be good. “What do you have in mind?” Years of practice dealing with the scum of the earth is all that keeps my tone even and my ass in the chair instead of heading to Vito’s Pizzeria with my gun.
“Shame to waste a pretty piece of ass, but your little fuckbuddy is poking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Take her out with Trabucco and we’ll double the bonus. Easy money.”
I know the moment I hear him laugh, that a bullet would be too good for him. “She’s nobody. Why do you care?”
“Aw, feeling sentimental? Maybe you’re right, but word is she won’t play ball, and thanks to that idiot, she’s seen too many faces. Yours included. Gotta keep things tidy, ya know?”
My fingers twitch. “Of course. It’s not a problem.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling so understanding today. See, I was worried this might get ugly, but it’s good to know you’re a practical sort of guy. Enjoy her while she’s warm. Those career types aren’t the ones you want at home anyway.”
“Right.” I hang up. If he’s got more shit to spew, I don’t want to hear it.
He’s dead, he just doesn’t know it yet. Life's funny like that.
Flipping open the case, I pull my rifle out in parts and start cleaning, my hands working on autopilot. The familiar metal under my fingers steadies me, but doesn’t settle the churning in my gut.
I go over the plan in my head for a moment, before discarding it with a humorless laugh. The situation is so far beyond fucked it’s ridiculous. I need a new plan. Something simple.
Step one: Do the job, get my fucking money. Screw the bonus.
Step two: Tony will die. Gotta keep things tidy.
Step three: Nora will… Nora will be pissed.
I’d be surprised if I get through this with my balls intact, but that’s fine, so long as she’s safe. I’ll pull some strings and drop her ass so far under the radar they’ll need a sub to find her. She’ll lose everything and hate my guts forever, but at least she’ll be alive to do it.
Then I can get on with my life and whatever she decides to do with hers will be up to her. If she sticks her nose in trouble again—which I fucking know she will—it won’t be my problem anymore.
I pause, waiting to see if that odd guilty feeling is gone yet.
Nope.
Fuck.
23
Nora
It’s Thursday already and I haven’t seen Payne all day. Usually he drops by to pick me up from work, or at least sends a message. After my stupid decision to talk to Palmieri, he’s been conspicuously absent.
Coincidence?
With a giant tug, the last corner of the fitted sheet peels off my mattress, and I throw everything into a heap to get ready to hit the laundry room. The little front-load washer I have up here is great for clothes, but if I tried to put my comforter cover in there, I doubt I could even get the door closed.
Some people stress eat. I stress clean.
My phone sits on my nightstand, mocking me every time I look to see if I’ve missed a call or gotten a message without noticing. I gather everything up into my laundry basket and head downstairs.
Hands full, I jab the basement button with my nose and wait for the doors. They slide shut, and the elevator slowly bumps and creaks its way down to the bottom floor, where it settles with one last lurching thump. I push the laundry room door open with my butt, hold it there with my hip, and flip the light switch with my shoulder.
Look, Ma. No hands!
And the crowd goes wild. I make quiet cheering noises for my invisible audience.
The laundry machines are old, cranky and huge, but feed them an obscene amount of quarters—no fancy card readers here, that might almost be convenient—and they work. I sort my stuff into two loads and get them going, settling down with my e-reader into a raggedy old chair whose best years were probably before I was born.
I’m just getting to a good part, where the ridiculously perky heroine is about to find out her lover is the vampire lord of the underworld, when the door slams open. An armful of black clothes pushes its way into the room, followed closely by a tall, broad and all too familiar body.
“Payne?” As much as I’ve been waiting to talk to him, suddenly seeing him in person is a bit of a shock.
He tosses his clothes on the floor and turns to me, like a pointer fixing on his prey. “Nora.”
“Payne…” I’m chewing my lip, so I force myself to stop.
He smirks. “Janet?”
“Dr. Scott!” I throw my hand to my chest in mock surprise, and we both laugh. There’s no way this guy is Mafia. Whatever dark side he has, I can’t believe it’s that.
He winks, green eyes sparkling. “I think I’d make a much better Rocky.”
“Hey, if you want to wander around in gold hot-pants, don’t let me stop you.”
Grinning, he scoops his clothes back up before throwing them into the next open machine. My stomach does a happy little flip as he peels off his tight, black shirt. The prominent muscles in his arms flex as he drags it over his head and tosses it in to join the rest of the load. “How do you know I don’t?”
“I guess I don’t.” Putting down my reader, I give him an appraising look. “But you don’t strike me as the dry-clean-only type, and do you have enough non-dark clothes to make a load?”
Payne strides over, unbuckling his belt as he goes. “Do you want to find out?”
I lick my lips, torn between telling him to knock it off, and trying to bounce my last quarter off his abs. He kicks off a pair of flip-flops, and tugs at his jeans. You’d figure after actually getting my hands—and the rest of me—on him, seeing his naked skin wouldn’t have quite the same effect.
You’d be wrong.
My mouth waters at the sight of powerful thighs. Dark red boxer briefs cling to his legs, leaving very little to the imagination, but all of it good.
“Most—” I swallow awkwardly as my voice breaks. “Most people don’t get naked while they do their laundry.”
“I like to be thorough.” His hands come down on the armrests, caging me in.
“I can see that.”
“There’s room for yours too.”
“What?” I tear my eyes away from his chest, embarrassed to find myself moving towards him, and wondering if his skin tastes like I remember it.
“Your clothes.” He nods at me. “There’s ple
nty of room.”
“Are you nuts? I’m not taking off my clothes down here!”
“Oh, come on. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” His rough cheek brushes against mine as he leans in close. “I’d just like to see it again.” The bulge in his pants was impressive enough already, but now that it’s thickening and with less to cover it up, there’s little doubt what’s on his mind.
“Yeah, but… In the laundry room?”
He chuckles. “What better place to get a little dirty? Hey, what’re you reading?” Before I have a chance to react, he darts forwards and nabs the reader off the tarnished TV-dinner table next to my chair.
“Hey! Give me that back!” I sit up, but he plants one hand on my chest and holds me in place while he looks at the screen. My cheeks burn, remembering exactly what was going on when he showed up.
Payne laughs. “Oh, Damien you naughty boy, you should really ask a girl before you start sucking her blood. Though…” He slides a finger over my screen, flipping the page. “I have to say, it does seem to work out for him.”
“That’s mine.”
Payne clears his throat and reads in a deep, husky voice, “Slowly, I wrapped my slender fingers around his thick cock, marveling at its thickness, the way its cold undead flesh seemed to pulse in my hand. My own blood ran through his veins, and as I stroked him, his manhood grew to amazing, unnatural proportions that put my previous boyfriends to shame. A single clear drop of pink tinged moisture glistened at his tip, and as he had drunk from me, I lowered my mouth to drink from my vampire lover.”
I give up trying to get the reader from him, instead sitting back down in a huff, my arms crossed over my chest. “It’s a very important scene. Very symbolic.”
“Symbolic of sex.” Bringing his eyes back to me, his cocky smile is so wide I’m surprised his ears don’t fall in.
“He’s super powerful, but she’s exposing his vulnerable side.”
“Right, to sex.”
I turn away from him, pointedly looking at the wall and refusing to debate the literary qualities of my vampire smut. “I’m not talking to you until I get my book back.”
“How about a deal?” He tugs at my shirt. “Give me this, and I’ll give it back.”
Oh, for the love of—
I look back at him, forgetting how close he is and finding myself looking straight into his… package. Instinctively, I back off. “Watch where you’re sticking that thing.” I totally don’t lick my lips, and he in turn totally doesn’t laugh.
I wish.
“Oh, trust me, I was. So, how about it. Want this back?”
My resolution wavers. “Come on, I’m not playing strip laundry with you. Besides, did you miss the part where it’s winter?”
“I’ll keep you warm, Adorable. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He crouches in front of me, his face coming closer.
“Upstairs?” I venture, peeking up at him with a little smile.
The truth is, with him so close, he’s all I can think about. The clean scent of his skin and the warmth of his fingers as he cups my chin send my thoughts into a tailspin of lust. My defenses melt away as he tips my face up to capture my gaze.
He murmurs huskily, “Some things are worth a little risk.” And then his lips press against mine.
24
Nora
Payne pulls me out of the chair and lifts me like I don’t weigh a thing. It never ceases to amaze me how strong he is. Unlike the muscle-bound guys at the gym, his body is honed to be a tool, not a display piece.
Not that my hands know the difference as they clasp his sculpted shoulders.
He puts me down on top of the rumbling washer that’s currently doing my sheets, and his lips nibble my neck as eager hands tug up the hem of my shirt. With a quick yank, it goes in with his laundry, leaving me in my stretchy, lace lounging bra. Excitement and the slight chill of the basement air have my nipples standing in tight points.
Rough fingers trace my collarbone, between my breasts and down to the band of my leggings. In for a penny, in for a pound. I grin and tip my hips up to help as he works them off. Into the washer they go, and he smacks the door closed.
“You noticed that shirt was white, right? It’s going to come out all grey,” I babble, trying to cover up how vulnerable I feel in only my underwear and a pair of fuzzy socks. I yelp as he falls to his knees, pulling me forwards until my ass is on the edge of the machine.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” he mutters, before slinging my legs over his shoulders and spreading my thighs.
I can’t bring myself to complain, not when his mouth presses against the thin cotton covering my mound and his fingers tighten on my ass. The scorching heat of his tongue pushes into me, but on the other side of my panties, he can’t do much more than play, and the blunt teasing quickly has me wanting more.
Taking matters into my own hands, I pull the soaking fabric aside, and dig my fingers into his thick hair, guiding him right where I want him. A sigh escapes me at the first brush of his mouth against my skin.
Payne chuckles, breath puffing over my sensitive pussy. “There’s my girl. I knew you had a wild streak in you.”
I’ll show him wild. “I don’t have anything in me yet. So if you could get a move on it, that’d be great, thanks.” My snark earns me a teasing slap on my ass.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I gasp and my head falls back as he slides a finger deep. His teeth close gently around my clit, holding it in place while his tongue flicks the tiny, trapped bud. Beneath me, the washer rocks slowly as my laundry begins to churn.
In this moment, I don’t care about the alderman, the Mob, or who’s going to the Superbowl this year. All that matters is us, and how when I’m with Payne, it just feels right. I trust that he’d never let anything bad happen to me, and it gives me the confidence I need to act a little crazy.
Back arched to the ceiling, the dark circles of my nipples stand out clearly through the lace of my halter-bra. He pushes me harder and harder, leaving me practically panting. I squirm and moan, but he holds me in place and forces me to take what he gives. A second finger joins the first, and my muscles contract until I can’t get air and my eyes stare blindly at the ceiling.
“Payne!” I gasp.
Instead of letting up, he curls his fingers inside me and doubles his efforts. Oh God, it’s too much. My own well-practiced ministrations pale in comparison to this. How can he be so good, when I’m the one feeling it?
I hang for a split-second of eternity on the edge, before I fall into ecstasy.
I’m a wreck, and my legs wobble as Payne flips me around, folding me over the top of the washer and forcing my pulsating body to accept the solid length of his cock. He groans in what sounds as much like pain as pleasure, driving deep until his strong hips press against my ass.
I groan with him, wanting it all.
He thrusts, hard and fast. It’s all I can do to hang on, my toes well off the ground and my hands gripping the edge of the washer as he strains behind me. If anyone is anywhere near the door, there’s no way they won’t hear us. Or at least me. I can barely tell where one orgasm trails off, and the next begins.
“Fuck, we can’t do this.” Payne pauses, hovering on the edge, his fingers digging into my hips.
I moan a complaint and try to work myself back onto him. “More.”
He hisses and leans his weight forwards, trapping me in place. “Nora, babe, stop or I’m gonna blow.”
It takes a minute for my sex addled mind to catch on to what the problem is. Shit, no protection. As soon as I notice, I can’t help but clasp tightly around him, enjoying the feel of bare flesh against flesh. I’ve never had sex without a condom before, and the tiny, logical part of my brain that’s panicking, is nearly drowned out by the desire to throw caution to the wind.
Payne pulls back, and this time it’s my turn to surprise him as I slip to the floor and reach for his glistening cock. I can’t fit anywhere near all of him in my mout
h, but what I can tastes like the both of us, and I find it intoxicating.
We’re both so worked up, that it doesn’t take long to return his favor. I watch his face as my hands, lips and tongue bring him right to the brink. Those beautiful green eyes open and look into mine as he cries out, fingers twisted in my hair. I swallow the rush of his essence, not stopping until I feel the iron muscles in his thighs relax and his hands stroke instead of clench.
Behind me, the washer kicks into the spin cycle, bumping and rattling a rickety tune.
Definitely worth the risk.
25
Nora
Bundled up in an old cardigan that’s been in the lost and found clothing bin longer than I’ve lived here, I rush into the elevator. He stops, his face turning skeptical for a moment while he eyes the door frame, and then he comes to a decision and hurries in after me. We’re acting like a couple of teenagers trying to get home before curfew. I push three, he pushes four and we look at each other and laugh as the door slides closed.
“My place, or yours?” I joke.
Payne brushes a lock of hair away from my face, leaving his hand in my hair and bending down to kiss me. It starts out as just a tiny brush of lips, but as soon as we make contact, our bodies pull together and we can’t help but turn it into more.
Until the elevator dings a little too early that is.
“Oh my God.” I grab the edges of the ugly puke green sweater. “Oh my God!”
“Sorry, full!” Payne shouts as he mashes the Door Close button.
I catch a glimpse of a surprised face, but then we’re moving and I burst out laughing. “You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”
He gives me an unreadable look, something much more serious than our current situation passing through his brain. “I know.”
“Payne, I didn’t mean—”
“My place,” he interrupts.
