Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)

by London Miller

  Taking the elevator up to Niklaus’ room, she didn’t bother knocking, sticking the key into the lock and turning, stepping inside without preamble. But when she did, with the lights on, she could see that the bed was made, all the furniture returned to its right position.

  Reagan frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. While he hadn’t been a slob or anything with clothes all over the floor or anything like that, but there had been a sort of lived in feel to it when Niklaus was in the room.

  The bed was made and looked untouched…

  The bathroom was clean, all towels accounted for and resting folded on the towel bar bolted into the wall.

  Everything just looked…sterile, or as much as this place would allow. It was like the past three nights had never happened, like a figment of her imagination.

  Hurrying out, Reagan stopped at the front desk, ringing the small bell there to get the attention of the man watching the small television behind the counter.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Yeah?” He turned, wiping greasy fingers along his shirt, his gaze straying to her breasts before back up to her face again.

  On a whim, she slid the key across to him. “I just wanted to drop this off for my friend. Niklaus? He’s in room three-eleven.”

  The man’s eyes flickered down to the open book in front, before snatching up the key and hanging it next to its corresponding number.

  “Don’t know anyone by that name, but thanks.”

  Frowning, Reagan said, “He was a little over six-feet, dark hair, blue eyes…”

  “Look lady, whatever name he gave you, whoever he pretended to be, that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me. Only thing I can tell you is the guy paid through the night. And I ain’t seen ‘em.”

  Biting her lip, Reagan didn’t say anymore, hurrying out before she could embarrass herself any further. Because what more could she say?

  She only had his first name, which could have very well not been his name from what the clerk said. But besides that, she knew nothing else.

  Not what he did for a living.

  Not where he was from.

  She didn’t even have a last name.

  And worse, he was gone…and he had never said a word.

  *

  Six months later…

  It was raining outside the diner, the water falling in sheets from the night sky. Reagan was sitting in a booth, counting out her tips as she waited for the downpour to lessen, at least enough to where she could get home without being totally soaked through by the time she got there. And though she had spent the entirety of the night smiling at customers, making sure everyone was pleased, she was tired and ready to get home.

  Six months…

  That was how long it had been since Reagan had last seen him, a night when he’d just disappeared without a word. Oh, how excited she had been when she had gone to work that next day, expecting to see him enter any moment. When he hadn’t, she didn’t think much of it, but after the second—and third, and fourth, and fifth—she had realized with a startling clarity that he must have left and gone back to wherever it was he came from.

  She didn’t mean to be upset. He had only ever offered her one thing, and she had gladly accepted it—begged for it at least a couple of times if she remembered correctly. Once he was gone—and she accepted he wasn’t coming back—she still ached at the thought.

  But nevertheless, after five months of trying, she had finally put him, and everything they’d done together, to the back of her mind and kept it there.

  Since he had walked away, a lot had changed for her. Her father had stopped drinking, her mother was less dependent on him, and she was finally able to start saving towards her dream, the same dream she had shared with Niklaus that last night. Picking up more hours at the diner was exhausting, but in the end, she knew it would be worth it.

  Yeah, Niklaus was the last thing on her mind…until he wasn’t.

  Another long afternoon of shoes had the air muggy as Reagan exited the diner, fiddling with her umbrella, not paying attention to her surroundings. If she were, she might have noticed Niklaus’ slow, but steady approach.

  “Here, let me get that.”

  Her head snapped up as she heard his voice, too surprised to do anything more than stare at him as he deftly got the button unfastened, and the umbrella open, holding it out for her.

  He seemed immune to the rain, standing beneath the awning with his leather jacket on, a hoodie beneath it with the hood partially concealing his hair. He looked good—though that wasn’t very hard—though he did look a bit tired.

  “What are you doing here?” She wondered if the bitterness she felt inside could be heard in her words.

  Judging from the expression on his face, the answer was yes. “Was in the neighborhood.”

  Considering she practically knew everybody around here, or knew someone who did, she doubted she would have missed hearing about him being back. The families around here had a habit of subtly announcing if there was someone new around.

  Not knowing what else to say, and strangely hurt by his words, Reagan said, “Diner is still open.”

  She tore her eyes from him, determined not to show him just how much his presence affected her—she wouldn’t give him that too. Instead, she turned her back, ready to brave the rain to get home as opposed to taking a cab, anything to get away from him sooner.

  But if she thought he was just going to let her walk away, she was wrong.

  While she refused to turn back, she could hear him trailing her. “Is there a reason you’re following me?”

  “I’m walking you home.”

  “I can take care of myself, Niklaus.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  Was that humor in his voice?

  “So why bother?”

  “You’re worth the effort.”

  Turning abruptly, Reagan frowned at him, trying hard not to notice the way the water droplets clung to his skin. “Really? Why don’t I believe you when you say that?”

  Finally closing the distance between them, he asked, “Want me to show you?”

  Reagan shook her head, leveling her gaze on him. “No, prove it.”

  Before she could even fathom what he was doing, he had ahold of her arm, dragging her into the side alley between two buildings they were passing. She couldn’t even utter a protest before he was sliding one hand around her neck and tugging her closer, pressing his lips to hers.

  Any protest she thought to have, died a sudden death as he claimed her mouth, not giving her a chance to resist. Her back hit the damp brick wall, cold seeping through the thin cotton of her uniform, sending a chill through her.

  As quickly as he silenced her with a kiss, he dragged his lips across her jaw and down her neck, biting down just enough to keep her aware of what he was doing.

  His hands diving beneath her skirt, he tugged her stockings and panties down her legs, just far enough that he could get his hand down between her legs. When he had his thumb circling her clit, her head fell back, her hands squeezing at the material of his jacket.

  “Now how exactly do you want me to prove it to you?” Niklaus asked at her ear, pressing closer, making her aware of the erection that was straining his jeans.

  “Niklaus…” His name was a whisper, her attention solely focused on the way his thumb moved against her.

  She felt him smile as he said, “Use your words. Tell me.”

  “Fuck, don’t stop.”

  “Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you right here?” He asked, and this time, the humor was gone from his voice, replaced with a strain that she felt too.

  Her thoughts may have been in chaos, but the moment the question was hanging between them, she seized on it, her sex clenching at the very idea.

  “Please, Niklaus. Right now.”

  He didn’t waste a second, dropping down to practically rip her stockings and panties off her. She was already one step ahead of him, stepping out of her shoes to make it
easier. The moment she was bare beneath her skirt, he was back on his feet and her hands were at his belt, tugging the leather free.

  Pulling a small square from his back pocket, he tore it open with his teeth, letting the aluminum packet fall to the ground at their feet.

  When she finally got his jeans open, her hand closing around the hard, long length of his cock, stroking up and down. He only allowed it for a moment longer before he was sheathed in a condom and had his hands at the back of her thighs as he lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist.

  Niklaus didn’t waste any time as he angled his cock at her entrance and pushed in. The last time they had been together, he had waited ages, teasing her for what felt like hours before he finally gave in.

  Now…now there was a feel of desperation to the way he handled her, from the way he was sliding inside, to the almost painful grip he had on her ass as he held her steady.

  “Shit.”

  Niklaus froze the minute he heard the expletive leave her lips. Held up against a wall by 190-pounds of lean muscle was enough for a tremor to slip up her spine. It might not have been very long since the last time she was with him, but her body had obviously forgotten just how fucking big he was.

  How it took a moment for her pussy to stretch enough to fit him in.

  He didn’t stay still for long, gradually pulling out, enough to scrape across every nerve ending inside of her, then thrusting back in, harder than the first.

  A ragged moan spilled from her lips as her back hit the wall, her hands clutching onto his shoulders, but he didn’t stop—not when she was crying his name or as she exploded into pieces in his arms.

  Only when he gave one last brutal thrust inside of her did he finally come, his grip on her loosening just enough that she could finally take in a good, lungful of air.

  As that haze of lust cleared, Reagan fell back to reality very quickly, pulling away from him as she straightened her clothes as best she could.

  It was almost annoying how quickly his disheveled appearance disappeared when he didn’t have to do nearly as much as she did—and she bet she still looked a mess.

  “Reagan—”

  “Don’t—just don’t, Niklaus.” Shoving her hair out of her face, she rolled her eyes. “Is that even your name?”

  He didn’t look the slightest bit concerned by her question. “I didn’t lie about that.”

  Oh? She had expected he had, going over various names in her head. She had looked up his name once before, learning that it was Russian in origin—but thought that maybe his parents liked the names because he definitely didn’t sound Russian to her.

  “Kind of hard for me to believe that when you disappeared six months ago. No one had even heard your name before.”

  “Wanna talk?”

  Reagan stared in disbelief at just how casual Niklaus asked the question—as though she wasn’t accusing him of being a liar, at the very least that he had fucked her up against an alley wall.

  “I have a feeling that my definition of talk is different from yours.”

  “No,” he said reaching for her hand. “I mean it.”

  “About anything? You’ll tell me everything?”

  “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  Reagan didn’t have time to ponder his words, or that he hadn’t actually answered the question, he was already leading her down the street.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “A definite step up from the last one, but you have terrible taste in hotels,” Reagan said as she entered the room of Niklaus as he held the door open.

  He merely smiled at her words. “It’s enough for me.”

  She would just have to take his word for that.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she carefully removed her shoes, wiggling her toes into the carpet for comfort as she had been standing on linoleum and concrete all day.

  “I’m going to grab a shower,” Niklaus said as he reached for the bag that was sitting next to the night stand. “Wanna join me?”

  Reagan shook her head, feeling shy all of a sudden. Sure he had just been fucking her against a brick wall, but there was something about the idea of showering with him that felt too…intimate.

  “I’ll go after you if that’s okay.” Not that she had anything to wear once she got it, but she was in desperate need of one.

  Like he had read her thoughts, he held his bag up, “I’ve got you covered on that front.”

  As Niklaus disappeared into the bathroom, Reagan lay back, listening to the shower as it kicked on, letting her mind drift a different time when she hadn’t been as happy with Niklaus.

  Already, she had to remind herself that she was still angry with him, that what he had done was not okay. But what was the point when she had already let him do exactly what he wanted? She wasn’t usually so easily bent to someone’s will, but when it came to Niklaus—he made her weak.

  By the time he was walking back out the bathroom, his skin still damp from his shower, her fatigue was already setting in. She had to force herself to get up and shower away the night, then pull on Niklaus’ clothes as she crawled into the bed beside him.

  She was waiting for that first caress of her skin, could practically feel it already though he had yet to actually touch her, but he didn’t touch her—at least not in that way.

  His touch was surer, less lingering as he pulled her into his side, curving her into the fold of his body.

  When she looked up to him for an explanation, he merely shrugged and said, “I told you we would talk.”

  “Okay, tell me why you left.”

  “I had another job,” he answered back immediately.

  “Why didn’t you say you were leaving? You know I showed up one day and they said you had never been checked in.” Though the man that had told her didn’t look he necessarily told the truth all the time.

  “If I came to see you before I left, I wouldn’t have.”

  “Niklaus…”

  “I’m serious.”

  She shook her head, still disbelieving. “You don’t have to say that—you’ve already convinced me to sleep with you again.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Maybe you do.”

  “You don’t believe me,” he said, though he didn’t sound offended in the slightest.

  “Why should I? You haven’t given me much reason to. I know nothing about you.”

  “Then ask.”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” she said. “Just tell me everything, anything you’re willing to say.”

  And he did, though he spoke haltingly. He told her about his childhood, about growing up poor with a mother that did everything in her power to make his life good.

  The way he spoke about her, so easily, and with genuine adoration in his tone, she could tell he loved her very much, but there was also a wistful note to his voice that made her wonder how long it had been since he had last seen her.

  “Why don’t you go visit her?” she asked.

  His lips parted, but no words come out, not immediately. “I’ll save that story for another time.”

  “Then tell me something else.” She didn’t expect to get all his secrets in a night, not even in two.

  Niklaus didn’t hesitate in telling her more, his voice soothing as he wove stories of his life and the sketchy encounters he always found himself in.

  At some point, as she remained tucked into his side, she fell asleep listening to his voice.

  *

  Reagan had fallen asleep with her head on Niklaus’ chest as he’d traced indiscernible patterns along her skin with his fingertips. She couldn’t think of a single person that she had wanted to fall asleep next to, at least not this deeply.

  But she hadn’t been so far under that his movements hadn’t eventually jostled her awake.

  At first, she had thought he was trying to wake her, but as she opened her eyes, gently sliding out of his hold, she realized that he was still fast asleep, his eyes darting behin
d closed lids. Even with just the tension in his body, she knew something was wrong and wanted to soothe whatever it was away, but it was the stricken look on his face that worried her most.

  While he slept, he didn’t look as defiant, as dangerous as he did when he was awake and able to use words to his advantage. She had seen him asleep before, if only briefly, and during that time, he had looked like the weight of the world was finally off his shoulders, and he could breathe again.

  Now? Well, now he looked like that weight was back on and it was crushing him.

  Without thinking, Reagan reached for him, smoothing her fingers over his shoulders, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to be bundled there, but her touch had just skipped over the scarred tattoo when he suddenly bolted up, grabbing hold of her wrists as he went.

  In seconds she was underneath him in the bed, her hands gripped so tightly that even if she wanted to get free, she couldn’t.

  “Niklaus,” she whispered, careful to keep her voice down with the frenzy she could see in his gaze. “It’s me.”

  He didn’t let up, not immediately. Niklaus just looked down at her as if he didn’t recognize her, as though whatever he was seeing was meshing with the nightmare that had kept him under.

  Blinking slowly, the fog seemed to clear, and he gradually released his hold on her, but didn’t move off her. Not yet.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “It’s fine. You didn’t really hurt me.” But she didn’t try and touch his scar again.

  Gradually, he sat up, rubbing at his eyes as he sighed heavily. All too quickly he went from one extreme to a look of sadness that made her ache for him.

  What did he dream about that put that expression on his face?

  They didn’t ask a lot of personal questions when they were together, though she had learned a few more things about him this time around as opposed to the last.

  But this…this she hoped he would share, if only so she could ease that storm she saw behind his eyes.