by BJ Bentley
“What’s going on?” I asked one of the guards near me.
“She says she’s here to see you, Miss Benson.”
“Who is she?”
“She says her name’s Margaret Thompson. Says she’s Mr. Holm’s mother.”
Fuck.
The four of us sat in the formal front living room, where Jensen typically received guests, in awkward silence.
“So,” I began, “you’re Jensen’s mother?” I addressed the woman who introduced herself as simply ‘Margaret’ as though I should have already been familiar with her identity.
“Yes, of course, I’m Jensen’s mother,” she said in that condescending manner that snobs had about them. “I really would like to speak to you in private, darling, if you don’t mind.”
Margaret looked at Sarah and Chace expectantly, but neither of them moved.
“It’s okay,” I encouraged them to give me some time alone with the woman.
“We’ll be right outside if you need us,” Chace said as he led Sarah out of the room.
Turning my attention back to Margaret, I said, “So, what is it that you wished to speak to me about?”
“Where is my son? Why isn’t he here?” she demanded to know.
“Jensen is away on business, currently,” I informed her curtly. “But I expect him home any day now.”
“Home? You speak as though you live here,” she said, one eyebrow raised in question.
“Yes, I do live here. Do you find that strange?” I wondered what she was getting at.
She shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “Well, it’s just that Jensen has a nasty habit of going through women like underwear.” She said that last bit with her voice lowered as she leaned forward like she was sharing some intimate secret with me.
“He had that habit, yes. But he is committed to me and I to him.”
“Alright, let’s cut to the chase, then, shall we?” All illusions of social propriety were suddenly gone. “How much is it going to cost me?”
“Excuse me?” I know my face must have shown my confusion.
“How much money?” When I still didn’t answer, she elaborated. “How much money do I have to pay you to get you to leave my son?”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. Not giggled. Not chuckled. No, it was a full-on belly laugh, and I’ve never seen someone look as horrified as Margaret Thompson did right then.
When I finally caught my breath, I said, “Oh, there isn’t any amount you or anyone else could pay me to get me to leave Jensen. I’m in love with him.” I shook my head at her audacity.
“Everybody has a price,” she insisted.
I sat back in my seat and looked her over for a moment. She wore expensive, tailored clothes and designer shoes, though they were slightly scuffed, and if I had to guess, probably a few seasons old. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup expertly applied. Jensen must take after his father in the looks department, because this woman was blonde haired and blue eyed. Overall, I’d say this was a woman who was used to living a specific kind of lifestyle, but had recently been struggling to maintain it. I wonder how wealthy her husband is. Or, I should say was, before she blew all his cash.
“Tell me, Margaret, do you know who I am?” I asked, genuinely curious, although I also had a point to make.
“That’s a ridiculous question. What do you mean?” she said impatiently.
“I mean, do you know who I am? Who my family is?”
“Yes, of course, you’re Charlotte Benson,” she said as though the answer was obvious.
“That’s right. I’m Charlotte Benson. Sister to Chace Benson. Only daughter to Daniel and Myra Benson. And the best damn safecracker this side of the Mississippi.” I could see the understanding starting to dawn on her face. “You see, Margaret, I am a professional. Some people use the term ‘thief,’ but I prefer the term ‘procurer of antiquities.’ And your son has an entire room dedicated to several millions worth of jewels and other treasures. If riches were my weakness, I could have stolen any number of items from Jensen’s personal collection ages ago and disappeared somewhere he would never have found me,” I concluded smugly.
“I see,” Margaret said, her face flushed and her jaw tight. I pissed her off. Good.
“So, if we’re done here…” I gestured to the door, indicating it was time for her to leave.
Margaret left with her nose in the air, but I was still counting it as a victory. I even got a wide, beaming smile from Sarah and a slow clap from Chace.
“Way to go, sis!” he gloated.
“Shut up,” I said, but I couldn’t hide my grin.
Chapter 23
Charlotte
Two more days passed before Jensen finally returned, looking a little worse for wear. His hair was slightly longer, his facial hair bordering on full blown beard, and his clothes looking clean, but rumpled. Looking closer, I noticed dark circles under his eyes. When he entered the room, I had frozen in place, just wanting to take him in, make sure he was okay. But when his gaze landed on me, he opened his arms wide and I was powerless to resist. I flung myself at him, planting kisses all over his face and neck, causing him to chuckle.
“I’ve missed you, my pixie,” he rumbled, his voice like gravel.
“Please don’t go away again. I don’t think I could bear it,” I shamelessly begged.
Jensen turned to one of his men that had been left to guard the house and said, “Debrief can wait,” and then carried me up the stairs to our bed.
“I can’t wait to get my mouth on you,” Jensen said.
“Tell me what you want to do,” I urged. I wanted to hear his dirty talk. I needed it.
Knowing exactly what I wanted, he did. “I want to lick your sweet pussy until you come all over my face.”
“Mmm,” I murmured. “What else?”
“I want to hear you scream my name when I finger your tight little asshole.”
I gasped. My breathing turned into panting and wetness gathered between my thighs. Jensen began stripping my clothes off, but paused when he got to my panties. Then he gripped both sides and tore them completely in half as he ripped them from my body.
“I want to slide my thick cock into your dripping wet pussy,” he paused to lean in toward said pussy, and inhaled a deep breath before continuing, “and fuck you until you’re too sore to walk without a limp tomorrow.”
“Yes,” I whimpered.
“But first,” he growled, “I want your sexy, sassy, mouth wrapped about my cock. Now, suck me.”
At his command, I immediately dropped to my knees as he unfastened his pants. Taking his swollen erection in both hands, I guided him to my mouth. I licked and sucked just the way I knew he liked. His hands went to my head, and I could tell he was trying to refrain from thrusting, but he couldn’t stop the slight rocking of his hips. His groans and words of encouragement spurred me on. I moved one hand to his balls and tugged gently on them, causing him to thrust into my mouth, seeking more of what I could give him.
“Take all of me, pixie,” he commanded gruffly, “and swallow every drop.”
I did as I was told, licking my lips after pulling him out of my mouth.
Jensen sighed in appreciation and then tossed me back onto the bed. “My turn,” he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.
He licked and sucked and did exactly what he said he wanted to do, until I came all over his face. And then he did it again. I had barely come down from my second orgasm when he was suddenly inside me, fucking me so hard, the bed slammed against the wall. He flipped us, so I was on top.
“Ride me, sweetheart,” he said, and when I did, he slipped a finger into my back entrance, triggering yet another orgasm. He didn’t let me come down from that high either before he had me on my back again and resumed his powerful thrusts. He roared his satisfaction when he came, grinding into me, and I was fairly certain he fulfilled his promise of making me walk funny tomorrow.
Lying together, trying to calm our breathing, I trailed
my fingers over his chest. I couldn’t bring myself to stop touching him. His arm curved around around me, and he tucked my head under his chin, keeping me close.
“Where did you go?” I asked.
“I had some business to take care of.”
Well, that wasn’t vague at all. I rolled my eyes. “What kind of business? Just spit it out, Jensen.”
He took a deep breath before speaking. “I have enemies. People who would try to hurt you in order to get to me. Like Keith. Like Rosario. Only far, far worse. So I’m taking measures to ensure that they can’t get to you. Some of them I’ve had killed, and a few of them I’ve killed myself.”
I froze in shock. I knew Jensen to be a ruthless man by reputation, but I hadn’t really thought that he’d go through such lengths for me. I also hadn’t really considered the ramifications of that. I lifted my head to look at him.
“You can’t just go around killing people!”
He cocked an eyebrow at my declaration. “Yes, I can. These people are the worst of the worst. People like Dmetri Sokolov.”
My eyes widened. “You killed Sokolov?”
Jensen shifted uncomfortably. “No. Not yet. But I will.”
After dozing, and waking up alone, I went back downstairs in search of Jensen. Now that he was home, I didn’t want to let him out of my sight. I found him in his office along with Raoul, Jason, and several other members of the security team. Jensen spotted me in the doorway and nodded his assent for the others to clear out.
“Shut the door, and come here,” he said.
When I got to him, he rested his palms on either side of my neck and leaned in for a deep, wet kiss.
“What was that for?” I panted.
“I saw the surveillance video.”
Confused, I asked, “What surveillance video?”
“The one where you told my mother that you couldn’t be bought,” he smiled.
“Oh,” I breathed. “I didn’t realize I was under surveillance.”
“I know. There are cameras all over the house. As a security measure, not to spy on you,” he quantified when he saw I was about to protest. “But when one of the men told me that my mother had been here, I wanted to see for myself what had happened. You made me proud, pixie.” He leaned in for another kiss. “And now, my sweetheart, as your reward, I’m going to fuck you,” he informed me. And he did.
Several days went by where Jensen spent his days coordinating plans of attack with his men, and I spent my time with Sarah and Chace. Nights were always spent together and always included plenty of orgasms.
I had started helping Sarah with meal planning and prep, but mostly I think I just got in her way. So, instead, I started picking up the slack in the housekeeping department. With Rosario gone, the staff was down a set of hands. I didn’t mind the work as it kept me busy, and I had assigned myself the library as part of my responsibilities.
In Jensen’s library full of priceless artifacts, I stood in front of the display case that housed Ivan the Terrible’s amulet and wondered what was so special about it that Dmetri Sokolov would go through so much trouble to have me steal it in the first place. It wasn’t very remarkable. It was kind of plain, actually. It was a half dollar sized chunk of amber encased in an unadorned gold setting. No other jewels. No intricate metalwork. Simple.
“Kind of ugly, isn’t it?” Chace asked from behind me.
“Yeah. So, what do you think the big deal is?”
Chace stepped forward, so he was standing next to me. “I don’t see one, but you know how those fanatic types are,” he shrugged.
Sokolov didn’t strike me as a fanatic. Cold and ruthless, definitely, but not the kind of man who would dedicate his life to seeking the next Holy Grail. I told Chace as much.
“Oh, Sokolov doesn’t want the amulet for himself,” Chace said. “He was tasked with finding it by a high ranking officer in the Bratva.”
My blood turned to ice in my veins. “Bratva?” I asked. “You didn’t think it was important to mention this before?”
“Relax, Char. I don’t really think we have to worry about the Bratva showing up on Jensen’s doorstep.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but that wasn’t really my main concern. My main concern was still Dmetri Sokolov. Because he was working on behalf of the Bratva, and the Bratva was comprised of some of the scariest motherfuckers you never wished to meet. And if the Bratva didn’t get what they wanted from you, then they made sure you ceased to exist. And Sokolov would know that. So, the question became, how far would Sokolov go in order to ensure he stayed alive?
None of us were safe.
“Char? Are you listening?” Chace interrupted my internal freakout.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, no. What did you say?”
“I said, I’m taking another job,” he said as he peeked at me from the corner of his eye.
“Chace, please don’t do this to me. You’re going to give me a stress-induced ulcer before I’m twenty-six, which isn’t that far away, you know!”
He chuckled. “It will all be okay, Char. Besides this job is for Jensen,” he said, stunning me, and as he turned to leave the room, he added softly, “And for you.”
Chapter 24
Charlotte
Chace had been gone for two days, and I was a certifiable nervous wreck. Jensen wouldn’t tell me anything about the job Chace was doing for him other than he was safe, and I shouldn’t worry. Like he could just command my thoughts and feelings. I rolled my eyes at that thought. Good fucking luck.
All the stress was finally catching up to me, because I began to feel like crap. Jensen quarantined me to our room, while Sarah force fed me chicken broth, crackers, and ginger ale. When I wasn’t puking all of that back up, I was sleeping. Sleeping was all I wanted to do. I didn’t want to watch T.V., I didn’t want to swim or sun, and I certainly didn’t want to have sex, much to Jensen’s dismay. After nearly a week in bed, I couldn’t sit still anymore.
I dragged myself downstairs on day six just so I could spend time in any other room in the house besides the bedroom. Plopping myself down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, I moaned, melodramatically, in agony, and Sarah set a glass of flat ginger ale down in front of me.
“Drink,” she directed. “Sip!” she said when I started to swallow a large gulp.
“I’m so thirsty!” I whined.
Sarah poured me a large glass of water and sat down at the table with me. She didn’t speak at first, just stared at me. I started to feel like a bug under a microscope.
“What? Do I have a booger?” I said, surreptitiously wiping my face.
She smiled at that. “No, chica. But I wonder…”
“Wonder what?” I asked when she didn’t continue.
“How are you feeling?”
I thought for a minute. “Better than I was, I guess. Still slightly nauseous. Exhausted.”
“Hm.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean, ‘Hm?’”
“ Do you have any other symptoms?” she prodded.
“Like what?” I had a sinking suspicion where she was going with this.
“Oh, I don’t know, tender breasts?”
I bit my lip. “But I got a shot,” I whispered.
Sarah reached across the table to grasp my hands in hers. “When did you get the shot?”
“Um. Like, four months ago.”
“Ahh,” she said, nodding in understanding. “Charlotte, that shot is only good for three months. You have had another one recently.”
As I thought about it, I realized Sarah was right. My first shot would have expired during the time that Jensen was gone, and I hadn’t even thought to get another. It just never occurred to me. I pulled my hands out of Sarah’s and covered my face. “Now what?” I mumbled into my palms.
“Now, I think you need to tell Mr. Holm,” was Sarah’s answer.
I had never really given much thought to having children. Mainly because I lived a life of crime. I
loved my parents, but I didn’t want to raise a child in the same way my parents raised Chace and me. I wanted something more for my potential family, but I’d never found myself in a position to hope for more. And my parents and Chace and I were just thieves. We didn’t hurt people. Now, I find myself pregnant with the child of a man who has recently made it his mission to systematically eliminate his opponents from the playing field. Did I even want to bring a child into a that kind of situation?
