by Piper Stone
Prey
By
Piper Stone
Copyright © 2019 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Stone, Piper
Prey
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Shutterstock/Sofi photo and Shutterstock/EVA105
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone
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Chapter One
Darkness...
Foreboding to some. To him, the ominous shadows were comforting, allowing him complete anonymity in order to perform the jobs he’d been paid well to execute. Tonight was no exception and he was exhilarated, adrenaline flowing. He craved the chase, the moment when he locked onto his target. Every assignment was unusual. Different countries. Powerful individuals. Beautiful women. Incredible food and drink. His skills allowed for careful selection, the very reason he was still alive.
Even though there were strict requirements.
He moved through the darkness, finding the house with ease. The mark had evidently caught wind there was a contract on his life, leaving his usual environment in utter disarray. And somehow, the man thought he’d remain safe in the countryside, a little house in the woods that no one was supposed to know about. Snickering, he eased the gun from his jacket, adding the silencer as he headed toward the rear, all the while scanning the perimeter. Surprises he didn’t need. At least the fucker would be alone, an easy target.
The entire back of the house was full of windows, the massive set of sliding doors peering out onto a lush garden. There were no other houses in close proximity, another perk of this particular job. He inched closer, able to see the mark sitting in an overstuffed chair directly in front of a roaring fire.
Like taking candy from a baby.
He moved into the most optimal position, holding the weapon in both hands. A split second before he pulled the trigger, he jerked back, cursing under his breath. The man was supposed to be alone. Fuck! He shoved the gun back into his pocket and headed straight through the woods toward the awaiting vehicle. Yanking out his phone, he studied the reception. Just enough. The call was answered within two rings.
“Yes?”
“Mission aborted,” he half whispered as he opened the driver’s door.
There was a long pause.
“Why?”
“I have my reasons. To be completed at a later time.” Ending the call, he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He was a cold-blooded killer but even he had his scruples, no matter what the blessed consortium required of him.
He would never complete a contract in front of a child.
* * *
Monte Carlo
Eight days later
“Do you know what I want?” she purred as she slipped first one then her other arm around Wrath’s neck, her red lips glistening even in the shadowed light.
Ricardo ‘Wrath’ Constantino had been with many women over the years, devouring several varieties, but French girls were usually far more discerning about their tastes in men. Cherry certainly didn’t seem to understand that if she accepted several drinks then invited a killer to her condo she could face the ultimate demise. Granted, she wasn’t his target, nor would she know of his profession. However, the irony was delightful. “Now, what could that possibly be?” he asked as he brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek.
“I love your commanding manner. So sexy.” Cherry clung to him, her eyes holding the haze of intoxication. “I hunger for a taste of that hard body of yours.” She kissed his lips, darting out her tongue and dragging the tip across the seam of his mouth.
He allowed her to toy with him, teasing as she slid one hand down his chest. Sadly, he’d grown bored of the evening. Even winning at Blackjack didn’t have any effect on his sour mood. What did entice him was the gorgeous redhead sitting at another Blackjack table, the scarlet dress the perfect complement to her stunning long legs and hourglass figure. He was hungry, having played the perfect gentleman during his time spent in the amazing city.
What he could easily see was that she was an expert at a slight of hand, kiting the system. He was amused as well as aroused by her brazen attempt at winning. If she was caught, the punishment would be extremely harsh.
“Cherry, you are a lovely woman, but I believe I see someone I know. An unexpected surprise. I’m certain you can understand.”
Pouting her ruby-stained lips, she lifted a single eyebrow, her index finger sliding back and forth across his Adam’s apple. When she knew he was serious, she huffed. “Merde. Fine. Have it your way, but you’re missing out.”
He waited until she walked away, flipping him her middle finger in frustration, her next set of words spoken with a nasty tone. “Je m’en fous!”
She’d consumed one too many glasses of champagne. She didn’t give a fuck, eh? Well, then neither would he.
Wrath studied the lovely redhead at the other table as she worked, taking her time and winning only small bets. Even the card dealer, a trained expert, seemed to have no idea about her exceptional skills. He took a sip of his bourbon, debating exactly what to do. His cock ached, throbbing against his tuxedo pants, a clear sign that he needed to meet her. Few women had any effect on him, fewer still holding his interest for even this long.
After she won yet another hand, he polished off his drink and moved in the direction of the table, taking the last spot, which happened to be on her left. He acknowledged the players, waiting to greet her last. “Madame.” His French accent was one that the majority of women found endearing. He had a feeling this woman couldn’t care less simply by her caustic body language.
“Miss.” She gave him a once-over as the dealer positioned the new cards, yawning after a few seconds.
His amusement turned into raging hunger, his balls tightening.
“Fascinating,” he whispered so only she could hear.
“Are you flirting with me?” she asked in a haughty tone.
He chuckled, darting his eyes in her direction. She was American and appeared to be all alone, although looks could be deceiving. “I rarely flirt because I usually get what I want without question.”
“Ah, you’re that kind of man.”
“And which kind is that?”
“An asshole.” Purring, she took a sip of her wine, shifting her stool and allowing him a more captivating look at her legs.
Wrath gave her a slight nod of respect. The woman was tough as nails. He could only imagine her behavior in bed.
As the cards were turned, he watched her intently, studying the way she was able to cheat. There was something odd about her mannerisms, so polished and perfect. He was more than impressed, her abilities surpassing some of the best he’d kno
wn. She was truly magnificent.
Drinks were brought, the players dropping out one by one after mere minutes.
After she won yet another hand, Wrath leaned over, whispering in her ear, “You’re very good at what you do. I’m impressed and that never happens.”
She only slightly tipped her head. He could easily tell that she was aggravated at the interruption. The bet she had on the table was the largest of the night, one that would easily net her a cool fifty G’s. “And what might that be?”
The sound of her voice was alluring, seductive in the soft inflections. “You’re a cheat. How do I know this? Because I was hired and trained to spot even those with utter finesse.” He allowed the words to sink in, his cock throbbing as her porcelain face flushed, turning a lovely shade of pink.
“How dare you! I’m no cheat,” she whispered, reaching for her wine in her usual confident manner.
“And you and I both know you’re lying.” Wrath gathered his meager winnings and moved away from the table, tossing a hundred dollar chip toward the dealer. “Thank you, sir. This table is far too hot for me.”
“Thank you,” the dealer said with a smile then glanced at the remaining players, the tip understood.
Wrath slid his hands into his pockets, taking long strides out the main door then leaning against the wall. There would be no more winning for the lovely lady tonight. If his calculations were correct, she would be coming through the door in...
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The redhead was on cue, bolting through the door. Instead of any concept of fear on her face, she was furious, her eyes scanning the corridor. Seconds later, she jerked up her long dress, cursing what the Americans called a blue streak as she strode in the opposite direction. “Goddamn motherfucking asshole.”
Wrath moved out of the shadows, following closely behind. She wasn’t a true card shark, or if she was, she was certainly taking calculated risks. Perhaps he needed to get to the bottom of her true identity. The last thing he needed was trouble prior to fulfilling his contract.
Especially since the mark was MIA.
His long legs were more than a match for a woman in shockingly high heels, his hand wrapping around her arm and jerking her to the side.
“You. What do you want?” she snapped, struggling to get out of his hold. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Shh... Such language. Now, we can handle this situation one of two ways, which will be entirely your decision.” Wrath kept his voice low, certainly not loud enough to register to anyone in close proximity. He crowded her space, drinking in her exotic perfume. Visions of shackling her naked to his bed popped into his nefarious mind.
Hissing, she yanked again, almost getting out of his grasp. “I’ll ask you one. Last. Time. Who the hell do you think you are?”
She certainly carried an air of arrogance, something he did appreciate, especially in a woman. Time to call her bluff. “Someone who knows a thief when he sees one. As I was saying, you can come with me now or I’ll simply call in the local policia.”
The single tic in the corner of her mouth was the only giveaway that she was bothered in any manner. Otherwise, she played the situation as she had the cards.
Calculated.
“Policia?” she mused, her eyes flashing.
He’d made a single mistake, one that could cost him. Tonight, he was a Frenchman, the terminology entirely different than his native country. “The Monte Carlo police division is well known throughout the world as being brutal.” The lie sounded plausible. The second shimmer of her eyes indicated she wasn’t entirely certain whether he was telling the truth.
“You have the situation wrong. I need to see some identification, Mr. Know it All,” she barked, throwing out her arm, beckoning with her fingers.
Chuckling, he was becoming more and more fascinated with the woman.
Challenging.
Breathtaking.
A pain in his ass.
He dug into his pocket, holding out his credentials at least long enough for her to see the official police department seal. “As you can see, I’m a member of the Monaco police force as well as serve as security for the casino and hotel. Now, we need to talk about your misguided behavior.”
“Misguided behavior. Interesting. Then you should...” She cut her sentence short and closed her eyes. “Where are you taking me, Mr. Police Officer?”
“Then you admit your crime?”
“Fine. I’ll admit to cheating as well as wretched behavior unbecoming a woman. I’m a terrible thief taking money from the mouths of babes. Take me to your superiors so we can get this straightened out.”
Wrath pulled her against the heat of his chest, drinking in her perfume, enjoying the hell out of her sarcasm. His mind shifted to the filthy things he was going to do to this girl, the stern discipline he was going to give her. His mouth watered to the point he was fearful she’d gather a scent of his raging libido. “You do understand the harsh punishment that is in store for you, yes? We do not take kindly to foreigners believing they can, how do you say, dupe us.” He was careful not to give away his intense desire, his cock pushing hard against the tight confines of his very expensive tux. He could tell she’d grown impatient with their banter.
“Dupe you? Jesus.” She rubbed her forehead, obviously exasperated. “Look, Marco or Polo or whatever the hell your name is, any punishment that you decide is fine. I’ll do it. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Then you agree to the deal in order to keep you out of jail? A woman with some incredible beauty would not do well behind thick iron bars.” Wrath certainly appreciated a woman who had balls larger than the majority of men he’d come in contact with.
She tipped her head, staring into his eyes. Hers were the bluest he’d ever seen, mesmerizing in their intensity, filling his mind with even more vile thoughts. “Agreed. Mr. Policeman.”
This might just turn out to be a fabulous evening after all.
* * *
Sophia Waters kept the hundreds of nasty words that remained in the back of her mind off her tongue. She’d been told by the powers that be in the freaking casino that she wouldn’t be hassled in her attempt to draw out the motherfucking asshole assassin who’d cut her first vacation in six years short. Why her? Weren’t there more qualified agents?
“We need a woman to go in, a beautiful woman and someone he won’t suspect. The assassin in question is cunning, able to take out his mark in mere minutes. We have no idea whether he’ll be in Monte Carlo, but we certainly can’t take that chance. He’s managed to elude twenty-five different officers of the law in five countries. That isn’t going to happen on my watch.”
He? The FBI had no clue who the man was, his identity reduced to being called The Player.
She’d heard the crap spewed out of her director’s mouth more than once, but she’d been offered no choice in the decision.
Huffing, she curtailed her anger long enough to gaze into the police officer’s eyes. They were the most intense shade of green, an interesting contrast to his inkjet black hair. He was roughhewn and exotic, the combination deadly to the woman buried inside.
While the tailored tux was able to hide a portion of the man’s stunning physique, she could tell he’d spent countless days at the gym, honing his sculpted ass and muscular legs. She was disgusted to say that the man turned her on. Maybe her hunger was out of control since it had been a solid eight, no, nine months since she’d had sex with anyone.
And the last event had been more like a circus.
“Please put your hands behind your back,” the officer said.
“Excuse me?” she asked, finally managing to jerk all the way out of his hold. The little voice inside her head, as well as her intense years of training, told her the man was hiding something.
His identity for one. Or maybe his proclivities.
However, the credentials looked real enough and
she certainly couldn’t afford to have her cover blown. Not when she was this close to achieving her mission. Play along. Gather information. Turn his ass in as an imposter.
She curtailed her inner voice, realizing that she hadn’t been undercover in years, something she couldn’t take lightly.
He flipped the handcuffs from his pocket, shaking his head as he stared at her intently. The entire hallway was full of people, men and women already gawking at the ongoing scene. He seemed quite pleased with himself that he was humiliating her.
“I said I’d come with you,” she said under her breath. You asshole, jerkoff. Piece of shit. So much for her resolve. Her boss was going to have her head on a platter. That was the bottom line truth. The man she was trying to protect should be here any second. How in the hell was she going to get herself out of this? The sexy police officer’s superiors couldn’t be that far away. “I don’t think we need to go that far.”
“A requirement of the hotel, Miss...” He took a decided step closer.
She took one far removed from him. “Harper. Ashley Harper. And you are?” Big man with little gun in pocket. She was able to see the outline of his weapon easily. What she hadn’t noticed was his name.
“Officer Pierre Renier.” He wasted no time, slapping a cuff around first one wrist then the other.
Sophia had worked long and had to get an overseas assignment, even though the timing couldn’t have been worse. And this case? Winning hadn’t been in her favor from the get-go but blowing her cover for something like this wasn’t in her best interest. The fact he’d actually figured out she was cheating surprised the hell of her. She’d been taught by the best and most notorious criminal card shark in the business. Okay, so only for a few hours but she was a quick study. Winning at Blackjack was supposed to be a lure for the man she’d been sent to protect. Everything at this point had failed miserably. Hissing, she didn’t resist as he paraded her through the hotel and toward a set of elevators. “Where are you taking me?”
“I suggest you keep your mouth shut at this time, Ms. Harper. Remember that anything you say can and will be used against you.”
