Entice

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I leaned against the shower and waited five, maybe ten minutes. I should probably get out soon, but I wanted to give her enough privacy to do what she had to do. As much as I wanted to be her strength I knew I couldn’t. This was something she had to do on her own. It was her first act as boss.

  I ran my hands over my face and nearly fell on my ass when I felt breasts press against my back.

  Holy shit. Either I’d died and gone to heaven, or my wife was a goddess sent by the angels. I turned, slowly.

  She just stood there, a look of pure joy radiated from her face as water cascaded down the valley of her breasts across her flat stomach and down her long lean legs. My lungs burned. I realized too late that I’d forgotten to inhale. My focus had been so intent on the perfection in front of me that I’d literally stopped breathing. I pulled in a shaky breath and with my eyes followed the trail of her long wet dark hair as it fell across that perfect skin. I watched in eagerness as water dripped from that same hair and slowly slid down to her navel. My knees almost buckled when I followed the water trails all the way down to exactly where I wanted to be.

  My body tightened.

  Mine. That was mine. She’d been mine since I was fourteen. She’d been mine since the first time I kissed her. I was the first to explore those breasts, to kiss that neck, and I’d be damned if anyone else would ever get the opportunity to touch what was mine again. Mine. Mine. Mine. My body hummed with the primal urge to claim her.

  I licked my lips in anticipation as my body burned in ways I’d never experienced before. First hot and then cold as if it couldn’t decide what it was but knew only one solution — Mil. Her gaze hungrily swept over my nakedness, pausing at my chest and quickly moving on, finally settling on me and all my glory. With a twist of her lips and lift of her eyebrow she tilted her head and whispered huskily, “You gonna use that thing?”

  Yeah, like that wasn’t just like playing with a loaded gun.

  I didn’t even realize I was moving until my lips crushed hers in a frenzy to taste, to explore, to claim over and over again until she begged for rest. I pressed her against the tiled wall. She sucked in a sharp breath as our legs tangled together. My tongue stroked her neck then nibbled, but it wasn’t enough. Would it ever be enough? With a feral growl I shifted her weight and it was all I needed. I lifted her higher, angling myself perfectly and thrust into her hard and fast, not thinking about anything but marking her as mine, being hers and nobody else’s.

  Each give. Mine.

  Each take. Mine.

  Each scream. Mine.

  This was it for me, everything I’d always needed and wanted, found in the one girl I never realized I was missing. In that moment, pieces of the puzzle that was Chase Winter, shattered to the ground. The past? Didn’t matter. But right now? Feeling her warmth, tasting her desire? It was everything. I pushed harder, faster, she met me with each thrust, grabbing my body tighter against hers.

  She screamed my name as we both found our release, a freaking explosion that robbed me of my vision, balance, and sense of time. I’d have held her just like that. Forever. I wanted to freaking set up camp in that shower and never leave. But she slumped against me, boneless, most likely exhausted. She slid slowly down my body, a sexy smile dancing across her lips. “Well, that was nice.”

  “Nice?” I repeated.

  She nodded and shimmied by me, collecting what was left of the soap I was using and started lathering it across her body. Hot damn. The tease moved the soap down her hips, around her ass, my eyes trained on that soap like it held the secrets to the world. Her hands moved to her breasts and I swear I almost blacked out as the soap lathered around one of my most favorite parts of her body, playing hide and seek.

  Dear God, I was going to pass out on the spot. Already my body was responding to her again — how was that even possible? She handed me the soap and turned around. Growling in frustration, I told myself to calm down and helped wash her back, when really all I wanted to do was grab that mop of black hair and give a little tug while pleasuring her again.

  I finished with her back then moved the soap down one of her perfectly formed legs. I went up and down in rhythmic motion then stopped when I reached the inside of her thigh. I let the water cascade down her then moved my mouth to where the soap had been. With a gasp her head fell back as she grabbed my hair and pulled, pushing me harder against her core. Groaning, I don’t know how the hell it happened but I was ready for her. Again. Immediately. Damn, it really wouldn’t ever be enough, would it? I stood and gripped her hips.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” I demanded.

  “So we can hug?” she asked innocently.

  “Right. I’m going to hug you so damn hard you get pregnant.”

  “Chase!” She smacked me in the arm.

  I was serious as hell. I turned off the shower and wrapped her in a towel, quickly drying the both of us off, and then lifted her onto the counter, again not taking any time to do it right. I nudged her legs aside and pushed into her. I really wasn’t in the mood for romance and flowers. This was need. Primal need. I was in the mood to make her forget everything about what she’d just done — about what we’d both be facing within the next twenty-four hours.

  If I died, I wanted the last name on my lips to be hers.

  If I got shot, the last image I wanted flickering through my head would be of her naked body, of her smile, of her luscious lips, and of those damn blue eyes.

  “Chase…” Mil moaned as my lips slid down her neck, sucking the water droplets with my mouth and teasing her with my tongue. Her head fell back against the mirror.

  “I have something to tell you.” I moved inside her, slowly, and then faster.

  “Can you make it fast?”

  “Can you not distract me?” I groaned.

  “S-sorry.” Her body tightened around mine and she shook. Then she sighed and leaned against my chest as my body climaxed and then shuddered against hers.

  “I love you.” I’d said it twice in my life. Once to Trace and now to my wife.

  “Come again?”

  I smirked. “You think I can’t?”

  She smacked me in the shoulder.

  “What?” I said innocently.

  “You’re such an ass sometimes.”

  “I think that’s why you love me back?” I whispered in a hopeful voice.

  Mil’s eyes were clear as day, so blue and striking that I sucked in a breath to make sure I really hadn’t died. “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen.”

  “Really?” I lifted her off the counter so she could stand in front of me and so I could hold her in my arms. “You aren’t saying that to stroke my ego?”

  “The last thing you need is more stroking.” Her eyebrows arched in amusement. “And I mean it. When my dad hit me. It was your face I saw. When he…” She choked. “When he branded me, when you didn’t come for me, I pretended that you did.” A fat round tear slid down her cheek. “I closed my eyes and pretended that it was just a nightmare, an alternate reality. I dreamed I was still in your arms. You kissed me and told me it was going to be okay. Earlier you said you didn’t want to be a white knight. It’s funny, because in my book, you really have always been my savior. You’ve been my everything. I was just too angry to admit it.”

  “And now?” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

  “Now I can’t help it.” Her hands caressed my face, rubbing over the stubble that had started making its presence known since I hadn’t shaved that day. “I can’t help but want you. I can’t help but need you. I can’t help but depend on you. It wasn’t my own stubborn will that kept me alive all these years, Chase. It was you. It’s only ever been. You.”

  My heart about burst.

  And I finally knew the difference. Before, I’d thought I’d been in love. It had hurt like hell, but that love? The love I felt for Trace? I realize now it was mostly lust and a deep unrelenting friendship, nothing more. I’d loved her with my whole heart. I still did, but not the way
I loved Mil.

  I was obsessed with Mil.

  I wanted to freaking collect her eyelashes and stare at them like a lunatic — they were that long and beautiful.

  Every time she breathed, I was jealous of the air because it was touching parts of her that I hadn’t had a chance to explore.

  She was my beginning — my end. The woman I wanted by my side until we were two cranky old people who still carried weapons and shot at squirrels when they ran in front of us.

  I wanted a future with her.

  I wanted a present with her.

  I just wanted her.

  “You seem to be thinking really hard.” she whispered.

  “How do people survive this?” I asked in a low voice. “How do they survive when someone they love dies? How do they go on when the other half of their soul is missing?”

  “A lot don’t,” Mil said in a sad voice. “But us? We’d be fine. You know why?”

  “Why?” This I had to hear.

  “You’re too much of an ass to go and die on me, and I’m too stubborn to sit around and watch while death defeats you.”

  “Oh, good.” I nodded. “So we have a plan then?”

  “A plan?”

  “Right.” I pulled her hands from my face and clenched them in mine. “We don’t let each other die until it’s time, and when it’s time we die together, notebook-style.”

  “Since when do guys watch The Notebook?”

  “Since I was given Trace duty for three months, and she slowly tortured me with chick flicks.”

  “You cry?”

  “Hell no!” I blustered.

  “Liar.”

  “There were a few tears,” I said gruffly. “But it was more an allergy to the popcorn and… salt.”

  “Salt?”

  “Leave it, Mil.”

  She lifted her hands in innocence.

  “We should get dressed, just in case we’re needed. They probably don’t want us running around the hotel naked.”

  “Bummer.” Mil dropped her towel.

  “Damn it, woman!” I turned around. “Stop trying to give me an early death. I can’t take your nakedness. It makes me horny as hell, and I’m supposed to be holding a gun.”

  “Which gun?” she whispered as her hands wrapped around my waist and headed south.

  I barely escaped, then I turned and gave her a pointed look. “Clothes. Now.”

  “Since when are you the voice of reason, Chase Winter?”

  “Since I want my wife to live,” I said seriously. “And since I’ve just had sex with you twice in the past three hours, and I’m pretty sure men’s parts fall off if they use them too much in a ninety-minute period.”

  “Misinformation.”

  “I’m attached to my parts.”

  “Me too.”

  “So we’re agreed.” I crossed my arms. “Clothes, then I may let you cuddle, but I get dibs on being the big spoon.”

  She seemed to think about it a minute then held out her hand. “Shake on it?”

  “Sure!” I said stupidly, reaching for her hand. But it was too late. Before I knew it, my body was again responding to her nakedness, and I felt cold air as my towel dropped. “Oh the hell with it.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Nixon

  “This is so not romancing,” Trace said once we’d reached our room.

  I’d promised to romance her, and now we were waiting to see if the hit had been carried out or if Vito was going to pop out of hiding long enough for someone to aim for his head.

  “Yeah it is.” I pulled Trace into my arms. “Think of it this way, we get all this time to ourselves.”

  “Nixon.” Trace’s irritation was evident in the way her voice lowered. “We’re waiting for death.”

  “Only sort of,” I argued. “Come on, admit it, it’s kind of hot.”

  “In what way?” she said, exasperated.

  “Oh, you know, this could be our last night together.” I grinned smugly. “What would you do if this was your last night with me?”

  “It’s still too soon, Nixon,” Trace whispered.

  Aw hell, I was trying to lighten the mood, not make her go crazy with worry. I’d done that enough after faking my own murder.

  I cleared my throat. “Come here.”

  We sat on the bed together. I wrapped my arms around her as she leaned back against me.

  “You already know what I did,” I said in a low voice. “I wanted to spend my last moments with you. In your arms, loving you, cherishing you, possessing you. I kept thinking that if it ended badly, if I really did end up dead, the last memory I wanted was of you.”

  Trace sighed. “I’d want the same thing. Though I’d probably want it differently.”

  “Differently?”

  “It’s unfair to give your body and soul to one person, while asking for everything that person has to offer in return, knowing that you may not be able to follow through with the promise you’re making.”

  “But I did—”

  “You could have died,” she said slowly. “And you were willing to take every part of me with you to that grave. I wouldn’t have moved on. I couldn’t have. While I love Chase, it was never the love I had for you Nixon. So although I don’t blame you, a part of me still hates you for gambling not just your life, but mine too.”

  Humbled. All I could do was sit there. Sit and feel like a total and complete ass for doing that to her. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “You’re a guy.” She toyed with my hands, twisting my ring around my finger. “You wanted to make me yours, and you did. But you weren’t there to see me after—”

  “I saw you in his arms.”

  “You pushed me into his arms.” She sighed. “You didn’t see me toy with the gun in my room for the two hours Chase was gone.” My arms stiffened around her. “You didn’t see me point it at myself and then freak out that I was even contemplating something like that. You see, I’ve never been one of those girls, the type that get all dramatic and freaks out. You know me, Nixon. I just… I couldn’t imagine living in a world where you and I weren’t together. The love that I have for you isn’t something that’s going to go away. It’s real. I was lucky enough to have it once — and knew I’d only be getting a sliver of it if I grasped at what Chase was offering. But I was desperate for that completion, because when you left me, you left me broken and he was offering to fix me.”

  “The bastard would have ruined you.”

  Trace chuckled. “Stop being jealous of something that doesn’t even matter.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  I closed my eyes against vision of Trace holding a gun, contemplating suicide, all because I’d been careless with her heart, and careless with her love and trust. I loved that woman. I would die for her. I breathed for her, lived every day to make sure she was happy and safe.

  “Trace?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Nixon, it’s—”

  “I swear, if you say it’s okay, I’m going to lose my shit,” I spat.

  “Whoa there.” She snuggled closer to me. “I was going to say it’s fine.”

  “It will be,” I vowed.

  “What?”

  “Marry me.”

  I’d never truly understood the expression of air being thick with tension. I mean, I’d been in some pretty freaking tense situations but nothing, nothing compared to the way my heart was ramming against my chest when Trace didn’t respond right away. Did I just propose? Was she really not answering? My hands began to sweat as I waited for the woman to say something, damn it, anything!

  Finally… just as my heart was getting ready to give out, I felt her shudder against me. Holy shit, was she crying? Was the idea of marrying me making her that upset?

  And then her arms flew around my neck as she twisted her body in my lap and began sobbing against my chest. “I love you s-so much! Of course I’ll marry you!”

 
I exhaled and dropped a few expletives before I was able to form a sentence. “I swear you just took fifteen years off my life.”

  “I think you deserved a long pause.”

  “That was an eternal pause, as in, I think time actually stood still.”

  “Good.” She sobbed some more. “Now you know a sliver of what I felt when you were dead.”

  “Point taken, damn it, but for future reference can we just nip all long pauses right here and now? I’ll freaking put it in a contract and sign it in blood, just no more pauses. From here on out, you need to say yes sir, immediately.”

  “I never call you sir,” Trace teased.

  “Lies,” I murmured against her hair. “You called me sir last night.”

  “Entirely different circumstances.”

  “Really? You mean when we were—”

  She covered my mouth with her hand. I bit it.

  Her eyes flared to life as they trained on my lips.

  I licked her palm.

  She flicked my lip ring.

  I sucked on her fingertips and then winked. Trace raised her hand to smack my chest, but I grabbed her wrist and twisted her onto her back, hovering over her. “I think it’s time to celebrate.”

  “What did you have in mind?” She wiggled beneath me.

  With a groan, I crushed my mouth against hers. “Oh you know…” I started lifting her shirt when I heard a knock on the door.

  “Probably room service,” Trace whispered against my mouth. “Make them go away.”

  I nodded and jumped off of her. “Don’t move.”

  “Not moving.” She lifted her hands in the air.

  “We didn’t order any damn room serv—” I opened the door to Mo collapsing into my arms.

  “He’s gone!”

  I gripped her shoulders. “Who’s gone? What happened?”

  “Tex!” She wailed. “He just… he got a text, said he’d only be a minute, and then I saw him get basically ambushed by four really big guys. I mean they were huge and the—”

  “License plate number?” I snatched my phone while Mo rattled it off. She was always good with numbers. “Got it.”

  I dialed Sergio first to track the car and then sent out a group text to everyone else. It seemed retribution was going to come a hell of a lot sooner than we’d thought.