Barefoot Bay: Wild on the Rocks (Kindle Worlds)

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

  “What’s your name?” she slurred out, her tongue thick and awkward in her mouth. Thug One hoisted her back up. She shrugged a heavy shoulder when his remote expression seemed to imply a silent question. “I can’t keep calling you ‘Thug One.’ I know the name of my murderer; I should know the one who brought me to my death.”

  “Maksim,” he said after a pause. “My name is Maksim.”

  “Will you do me a favor, Maksim?”

  “Here,” Palach suddenly declared. He pointed to a platform about ten feet from the ground from which a crane extended out across a maze of conveyors. “This will do.”

  “What is this favor, solnyshko?” Maksim asked once Palach started up the steps to the platform.

  Quinn’s head wobbled on her neck until his out-of-focus face came into impaired view. “Solnyshko,” she repeated, badly. “I like that.”

  He led her to the stairs of the platform and even put her foot on the first step, which, honestly, was really nice of him considering she couldn’t hit it on any of her three tries. “The favor?”

  “Right, favor.” Her brow furrowed as she put both hands on the railing and pulled herself up step by step. “When Jasper gets here—that’s my husband. He’s a SEAL.” She felt more than saw a jerk of surprise coming from Palach.

  “Her man is a warrior?” Maksim nodded. It didn’t occur to Quinn to wonder how he knew that. “We must hurry.”

  “You must finish your message now, solnyshko,” Maksim urged.

  “Ho-kay,” she chirped. “When Jasper gets here, tell him—.” She blinked as they reached the top of the platform where Palach had already pulled in the crane and was fastening a length of rope to its end. Her brow wrinkled when she spied what was at his feet. “It that a Tommy Hilfiger mini-golf bag?! It’s so cute!”

  Palach glared at her and rudely gestured for Maksim to bring her closer. “What do you want to tell you husband?” Maksim prompted.

  Palach lowered a loop of rope over her head so that when she swallowed to speak, the strands scratched her throat. She blinked at Maksim and suddenly everything was bright and frighteningly clear.

  No drug could soften the fear that flooded her then. Her body dumped adrenaline into her system, washing clear any lingering effect of whatever drug Maksim shot her up with before it.

  She tried to speak, but was shaking too much for her mouth to form words.

  Jasper. She had to get this out for Jasper.

  “Tell him I kept my promise,” she barely managed to croak. “I didn’t leave him. If I had the choice, I would never leave him.”

  She gasped as the rope cinched her neck, pulling her to the tips of her toes. Instinctively, her hands grabbed at the stricture blocking her air.

  Flashes of light began to burst behind her eyes as her feet left the platform’s floor. She choked and struggled, kicking out uselessly as her feet left the platform’s floor. She felt her bowel twist and had enough left to be embarrassed when her bladder finally let go. From the outside edges of her eyes, a darkness crept across her vision until all that was left were two narrow pinpoints of light.

  Jasper.

  And then, suddenly, she was on her knees on the platform, coughing hoarsely as air flew into her open mouth down through her aching lungs. There was a gurgling sound at her back and she turned in time to see a knife finish its slice across Palach’s throat.

  “One thing I wanna know,” a new voice interjected. Hand to her throat, Quinn’s head whirled up and around. Twist stood close behind Maksim, a gun pointed to his head while the Russian very carefully raised his empty hands out to the side. “How the hell did you expect this guy to give a message to Jasper that wouldn’t get him killed?”

  Tears poured from Quinn’s eyes. “I am so fucking happy to see you!” she managed before she was lifted by wet, chiseled arms.

  “Take care of him,” Jasper ordered, turning Quinn so her legs could circle his hips, her arms tight bands around his shoulder before she tucked her face into his neck and lost it, crying through coughing fits. “I got you, babe,” he murmured. “I’ve got you now.”

  Over her sobs, she barely heard Maksim say, “Grigori Nyekovic sends his regards.” Twist jerked his gun to point upward while a growl escaped Jasper’s throat.

  “You’re Nyekovic’s contact,” he determined.

  “What?!” Quinn shrieked, her head lifted so she could glare properly at Maksim. “You nearly let him hang me!”

  “I knew your man would arrived,” Maksim assured her. The remoteness in his face softened considerably. “And if he had not?” His shrug was fatalistic and somehow very Russian. “Something would have worked out, solnyshko.” The Russian aimed his gazed at the man who held her. “Grigori and I are comrades from the old days. When it is possible, we help one another.”

  “Need more than your word to sell it.”

  With the immediate danger over, Quinn’s head suddenly felt too heavy for her neck. She laid it back on Jasper’s shoulder, but kept her eyes on Maksim as he gestured to his pocket. Jasper nodded permission and Twist extracted a cell phone. “The number is encrypted.” Maksim explained and named a string of numbers that, when Twist input them, rang straight through to New York.

  “Speaker,” Jasper ordered as the call connected.

  “Maksim, you have good news?” At the sound of Gregg’s voice, Quinn felt tension ease in Jasper’s chest.

  “Grigori,” Maksim called, “Kindly explain to these cowboys who I am.”

  “Ah, by ‘cowboys’ I presume you mean that Misters McQueen and Sisti have arrived in time to ‘save the day’.”

  “Only just,” Quinn croaked.

  “Ah, Quinn. How lovely to again hear your voice. And the Hangman?”

  “Neutralized,” Jasper answered without inflection.

  “Indeed, that is good news,” Gregg said. “Be at ease with my comrade, gentleman. He is no danger to you.”

  “He helped kidnap Quinn,” Jasper countered, unwilling to let it go.

  “Gregg?” Quinn called, somewhat more clearly. “What does solnyshko mean?” She butchered the pronunciation so much, Maksim actually winced, but it seemed enough for Gregg.

  There was warmth in his voice when he answered, “It means ‘little sun’.”

  Quinn smiled at Maksim and only because she was looking closely did she see his hard face soften for a very brief moment. “Thank you,” she whispered and then turned to Jasper. “Let him go, honey.”

  Jasper made him sweat it another minute before he jerked his head in assent to Twist, who stepped back.

  Satisfied all was well, Gregg disconnected. “My gun?” Maksim said pointedly as he pocketed the cell phone.

  Twist grinned. “How dumb do you think I am?”

  Maksim shrugged. “Worth a try.”

  Quinn ignored them both and turned her attention back to Jasper who she now realized wasn’t wearing a shirt and was soaking wet.

  “Why are you wet?”

  “That reminds me,” Twist said. “Can you get us back out of here? I don’t think Quinn is up to a water exit.”

  Quinn flipped her gaze between Twist and Jasper. “You swam here?!”

  “I can get you out,” Maksim answered as all three men ignored her. “Guards here care about product, not people. Three of us came in; long as three go out, they won’t ask questions.”

  “Take her down,” Twist told Jasper. “I’ll handle clean up and meet you at the car.”

  “What does he mean, clean up’?” Quinn asked, but she had a feeling she knew what he meant.

  “Can you walk?” Jasper’s words brushed Quinn’s ear and she noted he was not answering her question.

  “I don’t think so.” She blinked up at him. “Maksim drugged me.”

  “It was for your own protection, solnyshko. I did not want Palach to get ideas.”

  “My favorite part was when she said his golf bag was cute,” Twist interjected.

  That reminded Quinn of something. “What kind of
assassin uses a Tommy Hilfiger golf bag to carry murder rope anyway?!” she demanded of Jasper. “I mean, honestly.”

  Jasper lowered his forehead to hers in a slow, deliberate drop. “Can we discuss the luggage choices of Russian mob hit men some other time? I probably contracted about thirteen diseases from that water, not to mention being covered in blood and snot and tears. And babe, I know you ladies prefer to ignore these things, but you’ve got dried seawater all over you and urine on your legs.”

  Heat of a different kind rushed through Quinn. Naturally, she had to get the practical hero rushing to her rescue.

  “That’s not very romantic,” she said in a mortified whisper as he carried her down the platform stairs behind Maksim.

  “Real life rarely is, sweetheart.”

  “You’re screwing with my daring rescue vibe here.”

  Nothing, nothing in the world was as beautiful to her as this man, especially when he smiled and looked at her like that.

  Like she was the most precious thing in his world.

  “That’s the drug wearing off.”

  “You didn’t even kiss me with passionate relief,” she pouted. “I mean, really. What kind of badass are you?”

  “You’re busting my balls minutes after I saved you from hanging?”

  “Yes, very impressive. Hoorah and all that. A smidgen of affection won’t dilute your effect, hoss.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

  That sounded interesting. “You will?”

  “Oh yeah.” Carefully, he ducked through the doorway and deposited her back into the Escalade’s leather seat. “See, when I kiss you again,” he continued, buckling her in before he leaned back into her space so his mouth was right there, hovering above hers, tantalizingly out of reach.

  “Yeah?” she breathed and licked her bottom lip, which made his eyes flare.

  “When I kiss you, it’ll be after we’re safe and showered and in your bed in that shitheel apartment because the next time I kiss you, baby, I’m gonna do it everywhere, and I am not gonna stop for a very, very long time.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  And in the end, we were all just humans…drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.

  —F. Scott Fitzgerald

  They were safe. They were showered. And they were in Quinn’s bed in her shitheel, short-term apartment when she gripped Jasper’s hair, thrust her pussy up against his insatiable mouth, and came so hard she scratched grooves across his back.

  Greedy, so greedy for her after those dark moments contemplating life without her, Jasper drank her down and kept at her until her knees convulsed on his shoulders and her thighs squeezed his head like a vise as he threw her over that blissful edge again. Only then did he flip her malleable body over to yank her back onto his dick and start fucking her like it was the only Olympic event in which he could medal.

  And he’d be damned if he didn’t take the gold.

  After such an ordeal, he probably should’ve taken her with care, soothed the marks that motherfucker had left on his woman, and made love to her until those hours she’d likely thought were her last were a lost memory. But there was no gentle in Jasper tonight. Instead, he wrapped his hand around the rope burn on her throat until her neck strained backwards and pounded away at her.

  He could still see her dangling from that crane, choking on her last breaths, struggling to hold on even as the rope smothered the irrepressible spark that was Quinn.

  A low sound rolled up his throat. Jasper released her neck and shoved Quinn’s legs wider, pushing her up in the bed until she grabbed the brass rail of the headboard. He planted a hand in the bed next to her and curved his chest over her spine, covering her from head to tail.

  No, tonight he had a need to conquer.

  “Get a hand on your clit,” he ordered hoarsely. Immediately, Quinn reached down. He felt her fingers probe against him at her entrance and grunted when they circled him. She found her clit with her thumb and a groan.

  “Jasper,” she whimpered. “I knew you’d come for me.”

  “Never,” he grunted and fucked her harder. “Never again, Quinn.”

  “Honey.”

  “Get there, sweetheart. Let me feel you come one more time.”

  She gave it up to him as she always did, laying her palms flat on the wall for leverage and powering up against his dick to get them both there. His hands slid around and up her chest to grab her breasts, pinching the nipples as she clamped down and rode him through her orgasm. He bit the nape of her neck, knowing he marked her, branded her, and didn’t give a single fuck as it broke over him in waves.

  He eased them flat onto the mattress and covered her well past when the final spasms had faded, kissing his bite, licking her spine, slipping one hand between the perfect globes of her ass to pet that special spot, then down into the wet, sensitive flesh that quivered under his touch.

  “Can’t get enough of you, baby,” he said, gruff and far from satisfied.

  She wiggled her ass and chuckled lightly. “Whenever you’re ready for another go…” and fresh blood rushed to his reviving dick buried inside her.

  He pulled out, lifting her up so when he bent down, her pink flesh open to his mouth. He lapped at her, smoothing out the rough edges his hard pounding had left, easing her back into the pleasant buzz of arousal. He meant to keep her this way all night, primed and ready for him to play with, bringing her up and over the cusp as many times as they could bear and then, maybe then, he might be able to forget the sight of her a step away from dead.

  He felt her hand sift through his hair. “Jasper,” she called softly.

  “Mmm hmmm.”

  “Jasper, sweetheart, come here.”

  “We’re far from done,” he told her without moving. “I’m going to eat you and then fuck your face and, after that, you can climb on and ride me. Then I might, might, come to terms with the fact that I almost lost you tonight.”

  “Honey, I’m okay.”

  “You will be,” he vowed.

  “C’mere,” she murmured. “I wanna hold my husband.”

  Without another word, Jasper crawled up the bed, eliciting a chuckle from his weary wife before he fell onto his back and pulled her against him. Her head and hand settled on his chest. He stroked her back while she traced mindless patterns across his chest.

  “Husband,” he repeated. “Not an ex?”

  She sighed against him. “I don’t think we ever really were, no matter what the papers say. Do you?”

  “No. You’ve always been mine, even when neither of us wanted to admit it.”

  She kissed his chest and threw her thigh over his hip.

  After a few quiet minutes, she whispered, “Am I gonna have to testify?”

  His arm squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t know, Quinn. I hope not. Tomorrow, we’ll touch base with Gregg and see what he thinks. But if Maksim’s his inside man, he might be able to give that FBI agent enough dirt on this Sokolov to put that guy away without involving you.” He shrugged but she shivered in his arms and he knew that didn’t ease her fears. “However it plays out, we’ll deal. Because there’s no way you’re going into that viper’s nest without me at your back.”

  That made her relax against him again. “Will I be arrested for fleeing the scene of a crime?”

  He couldn’t stop the chuckle that rolled through his chest. God, she was cute. Cute, sexy, and so fucking brave. He knew he’d hit the jackpot when he met her, but Quinn kept on surprising him with how much more there was to discover.

  “Don’t laugh at me! I’ve seen the Law & Order episodes where people get arrested for obstruction or whatever!”

  “Sweetheart, you didn’t kill anyone, and you were in fear for your life, fears, I’ll add, that proved valid when a Russian mob assassin kidnapped you and tried to hang you from a crane. I think we’ll get them to understand.”

  She lay quiet for a bit and an aura of stilln
ess built around them, a shield behind which none of the pain and fear they’d survived that night would penetrate.

  His fingers traced the red welt on her throat. “That fucking asshole. Should’ve killed him twice to make sure he was dead.”

  “I think once was sufficient. Are you—are you all right with that?”

  “No babe. No one should ever be all right with that. But I definitely won’t lose sleep over it. The world is better for having one less asshole and I’m not sorry it was me who made it that way. Only thing I’d change was not getting there soon enough to keep him from hurting you.”

  “You’re responsible for none of that,” she said, fierce and determined. “No, you listen, Mister Responsibility,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “You’re not taking this on your shoulders too. I won’t allow it.”

  “You’re mine to protect,” he grumbled.

  “Even you can’t protect me from everything, Jasp.”

  “I can damn well try.”

  “You do a lot more than try.” She reached up to frame his face in her hands. “I’m so proud of you, of what you do, of who you are. You’re an amazing man. But you’ve got to let yourself off the hook sometimes, honey. You gotta let the Mavericks of the world bear the responsibility of their own choices.”

  “I understood him tonight,” Jasper quietly admitted. “Life wouldn’t much be worth living if I had lost you tonight. I’d be a dead man walking. I think I can finally understand what kind of emptiness Mav must’ve felt that night.”

  “I knew you were coming,” she said softly. “I knew you’d find me.”

  He tilted her head up to kiss her hard. “Always.”

  “I know, Jasper.”

  “No, Quinn, you need to get this. We put time and effort into seeing if what we found again this weekend makes the long haul this time around…” He trailed off, unable to put into words how much that meant to him. How much he wanted to execute that scenario for the rest of their lives. “But even if it doesn’t, if we can’t get past our shit and beyond what happened before, you need to get that no matter how long it’s been or where you are or what you need or what goddamn name you’re going by, you call, you need me, I’ll be there.”