by Nana Malone
As pink as she was, Lyra recovered quickly. “Oh, thank you so much. It was meant to be a gag gift. But perhaps I’ll get something else.”
Lies. I could see it in the shift of her eyes. The slight press of her mouth. And all it made me want to do was show her exactly what to do with that vibrator.
Well, well, she didn’t know how to lie. Excellent that she wasn’t great at it, but at least she knew how to pull something out of her ass if necessary.
“Well, I’ll just be going.”
I stopped her. “What about dinner though?”
“I thought you were busy?”
I flashed her a grin. “Lyra Wilkinson, are you jealous? Do you want us to be something more than friends?”
“You know what? Never mind. You have a good night, friend.”
“Right, friends. Except… Maybe you don’t want to be friends?”
She gave me a light chuckle and then struggled with her keys in the lock. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I followed her to her flat. Mrs. Washington winked at me before she closed her door.
“Lyra, wait up.”
She sighed. “Marcus, it’s been a long day. I need to grab these press gift packs that were sent here instead of the office and head back out.”
She looked tired, the strain evident around her mouth, and I wondered what was going on. “Look, I had some things going on this morning that meant I couldn’t hang out or talk. But I would like to take you out again.”
“Didn’t we have this conversation? We’re friends. And I believe you just turned me down for dinner.”
“Right. Don’t you go places with your friends?”
She frowned at that. “But see, we’re not just friends, we’re also neighbors.”
“Okay, neighbors. But maybe neighbors who go out sometimes?”
Her lips twitched as if she was going to laugh, but she held it together.
“You’re impossible.”
“So you’ve told me.” There was something in her dark eyes. A wariness maybe.
When she took a deep breath, I thought she was going to remind me that her life was complicated. But she surprised me.
“Look, I was going to ask you this morning. I have tickets to the What is Love couples exhibit at The Venice in the City Bacchanal this coming weekend. Do you want to go with me?”
Fuck me.
I’d planned on asking someone anonymous to be my date. But she was standing in front of me asking me to do the one thing I really wanted to do, which was to be near her.
I hesitated a moment too long, and she said, “It’s okay. You don’t have to. I think I read this wrong.” She turned to go.
I knew better, knew that this was going to be a bad idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Wait, Lyra. I’d love to go with you.”
She swallowed, hard. “Honestly, it’s okay. You don’t have—”
Danger, danger.
I knew having one taste wasn’t going to be enough, but I did it anyway. I interrupted her with a kiss. By now our tongues had learned a shorthand. The slow slide, the teasing licks, and then the deep dive, losing ourselves in the taste, the smell, and the feel of each other.
I knew enough to wait for that whimper before fully pulling her in. That little acquiescence of her letting me know this was something she wanted more than anything.
Before I knew it, that sound came, and I dragged her to me, my hands cupping her ass. Pulling her straight up against me, I turned her body and angled her in the door frame. I didn’t give a fuck who saw. Whether Mrs. Washington or any of the other neighbors were watching from their door, I didn’t care. I couldn’t not taste her. I couldn’t not have her.
This was what I’d wanted to do that morning, drag her body against mine and relive that kiss that had been interrupted.
I poured everything I had into kissing her. Bending my knees slightly so I could angle her better. My hands fisted in her hair that she’d pulled back into a low bun. Gently, I tugged the pins that held it in place and set her locks free. I ran my fingers through it, knowing I was probably making it a mess, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Her hands slid up my chest, her delicate fingers sliding then depressing as if trying to pull at my shirt to get to my skin. And then her hands came up to my face and gently rubbed over the stubble before sliding into my hair at the nape of my neck. When her nails scored over the skin on my scalp, I growled.
Hands digging into her ass, I picked her up just a little. So enough that she could feel just how much I wanted her, how much I needed her. And then the buzzing was skipping up my spine and I couldn’t think. Like my brain had been taken over by some kind of feral animal, and all I wanted to do was take and plunder and—
There was more buzzing along the length of my dick, and I barked out a cough.
Bollocks. I dragged my lips off of hers as I realized that the buzzing wasn’t an impending orgasm, though one of those had been chasing me down too. It was her phone in her pocket.
I set her down gently and made myself take a deliberate step back. “I’m sorry.”
She stood there shaking her head for a moment and slowly dragged her eyes open, her dark chocolate gaze meeting mine. “You should be sorry. All this time, you could have been kissing me like that.”
I grinned at her. “You probably need to get that.”
“W-what?”
“Your phone. It’s ringing.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh shit.” She grabbed for her phone, and then answered it. “Yep, I’ll be right there. I just needed something from my apartment.” When she hung up, her gaze skittered back to mine. “I have to go.”
I nodded slowly, desperate to rearrange my jeans so she wouldn’t be able to tell just how badly I was tenting them. But moving at all would mean I’d be moving in her direction, and that was a bad call right now. I had a mission to get ready for, but instead, all I could think about was sliding into her hot sweet depths and spending days exploring her body.
I cleared my throat and said, “I should let you go.”
“Yes.” She waved her phone. “This is me going. I will see you later, I guess.” She turned to walk into her apartment, but then she paused and turned to look at me. And when she started walking again, she narrowly missed the wall.
I knew I was wearing a shit-eating grin. But I couldn’t help it. Lyra Wilkinson was under my skin. In my blood. I didn’t just want her, I liked her. Which was why I was so worried that I’d said yes to attending the Bacchanal with her.
But I would have to do everything in my power to keep her safe. Not going with her wasn’t an option now, so I would have to figure out how to protect her.
Chapter 9
Lyra
The mission was simple. Or was supposed to be simple. All we had to do was steal the decryption device. The problem was that it was in one of the most secure vaults belonging to one of the most dangerous men in the Northern Hemisphere. Stellan Tusk, a wealthy South African with investments in everything from oil to gold to NFTs.
He was also a very bad boy and like so many criminals before him, he was greedy. He liked to add to his wealth by selling weapons, drugs, and black-market goods. In this case, a top-secret decryption device that had been stolen from the NSA. It was a prototype and was purported to open any digital device given enough input.
Tusk was well protected. He had a personal team of six bodyguards that were never more than mere feet away from him and an additional guard force around the house of six to twelve more, depending on the occasion. The only side of his estate that wasn’t heavily guarded was the beach access route. The cliffs and caves below and a private beach with only a slim lane of stairs along the edge made it easily defensible.
The only way to get close to him was his dick. He liked women. Lots of women. All kinds of women. The more the merrier, usually naked and subservient to him, because that was the only way he liked his women, not with clothes and opinions. He met them mostly via parties,
lots of escorts and party girls. His parties were invitation only, and lucky us, we’d secured an invitation.
“Status report.” Tyler’s voice was cold, crisp, and as irritating as tinnitus after a loud concert.
I ground my teeth as I scowled at Addie. “Does he have to be on this?”
She rolled her eyes. Tyler was our comms man on the mission, and I’d been clenching my jaw so tight I was sure I’d have TMJ after this.
Our five-person team consisted of Addie and I inside, Tyler on comms, Kira as our sniper, and then there was Luke, our wet works specialist, posing as a waiter. Even though we didn’t expect trouble on this mission, we were lucky because he was one of the deadliest operatives I’d ever seen in hand-to-hand combat, and no one attending the party was allowed to have a weapon.
“Jesus Christ, it’s like a buffet. Pick your mark.”
Addie laughed. “Yes, well, these things are usually like that, and hey, at least it’s not an auction block.”
I shuddered. “You know, I’m going to thank God for small favors.”
She chuckled. “Remember when we broke up that sex trafficking ring last year? Selling young women against their will. At least these women are being compensated.”
I shook my head. “God, fucking human traffickers are pure filth.” Those kinds of missions always made my trigger finger itchy.
She shrugged. “I mean, hey, if a girl wants to take charge of her own virginity and sell it herself, fine. I’m all for it. Fuck the patriarchy, sister.”
“I know. But for most of those other women, that wasn’t the case. Kidnapped, bought and sold, that shit makes me crazy.”
“Guys like Stellan here, he just brings escorts to him. All these girls were told there was a hot party and they’d get to meet a billionaire. He pays for everything, their dresses, their jewels, and they get to keep it, even if they’re not selected for the night. Wouldn’t you come back?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Over the comms, Kira muttered, “All right, he’s on his way. Lyra, you’re up. Addie you’re on support.”
I took my champagne and attempted to smile sweetly.
With firm strides, I filtered my way through the crowd.
Just outside of what appeared to be the kitchen doors, there was a balcony to the left, then a side door that led to Stellan’s private chambers toward the back of the house. Thanks to our inside man, we knew his exact movements because he’d had a tracker placed on him.
“And three, two, one.”
I opened the door and then teetered on my heels, accidentally on purpose.
“Oh, be careful.”
Firm hands gripped my elbows, and I had to tamp down a shudder of revulsion when he touched me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I guess I’m not used to wearing heels.”
He smiled down at me. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Oh, I’m new. I hope it’s okay that I came. A girlfriend invited me.”
He lifted a brow. “Which girlfriend?”
Every single person who attended the party was vetted before being approved for the guest list. One of his regular girls was one of our agents. “Oh, my friend Megan, Megan Campbell. She said it would be okay to come along. She gave my name and everything.”
The tension around his mouth eased. “Oh, Megan. Dark hair, right?”
I nodded and gave him a tentative smile. “She says she always has fun here, and your house is beautiful.”
What the hell else did you say to someone to sound simpering? I had no idea.
Behind me, Addie called loudly. “There you are.”
She lurched forward, acting slightly drunk. “Oh my God, I’m so glad I found you. Where did you go? We girls have to stick together, right?”
Stellan nodded at one of his men, but I wrapped an arm around her protectively. “I’m sorry. We met at the bar. I think she’s had too much. Is there somewhere she could lie down or something?”
Stellan tipped his head to one of his men. “We’ll put her in a car and send her home.”
“No, no. I mean, I wouldn’t want her banned or anything. I think, honestly, your bartender has a really heavy hand. She only had the one drink.”
His brow furrowed. “Who is she? I haven’t seen her before.”
“I don’t even know her. I think her name’s Crystal or something.”
He studied me closely, and I just blinked up at him owlishly, doing my very best wide-eyed innocent act. He said, “Your skin is quite remarkable. You should never wear makeup.”
What the fuck? “Oh, yeah. I don’t usually wear much, just the eye makeup and stuff. I was blessed with good skin.”
Lies. I was wearing at least a pound of it to cover up that fucking bruise. At least the eye hadn’t gone full black, but my cheek hurt. But he couldn’t see it, because to him it looked like I had an excellent dot of highlighter on. “Do you think Crystal can lie down a minute? I know you’re a private person, but I don’t trust sending her off on her own.”
I held my breath for a long moment before he finally said, “Right. Come along.”
I hid my relief and followed Tusk. A massive bodyguard walked in front of him, and another followed behind me and a seemingly drunk Addie. He showed us to a massive room. A giant bed stood on the far wall in the center. There was a sitting area and what looked to be an insane closet. “Wow, this guest room is nice.”
He laughed. “This is anything but a guest room.”
“What, this is your room? Oh. I don’t think she needs to rest in here. I figured a guest room would be fine.”
“Never let it be said that I don’t take care of my guests.”
Addie teetered on over to one of the couches and flopped down.
She shoved her hand up in her hair and started scratching her scalp. “Oh my God, I’m so drunk. What was in that drink? I felt fine just a minute ago. Do you think he did something to my drink?”
Her eyes went wide, and I studied Stellan. “You don’t think that would happen, do you?”
He shook his head. “No. Not my men. They’ve all been vetted.”
Except, his usual bartender hadn’t been available, thanks to us. He’d had to call the service, and we’d sent him one of ours.
“You don’t think… I hope he’s not hurting any other girls. Maybe it was just a heavy drink. What do I know?”
A muscle in Stellan’s jaw ticked. One thing we knew about him was that he hated traffickers. He and his sister had been stolen from their home in South Africa and sold. He had escaped, but his sister had not. He might be a weapons dealer, and he might sell drugs, the kind that would kill millions. But he didn’t traffic in human beings, and the idea clearly made him ill.
I played into it and looked down at my poor friend, ‘Crystal.’ I stroked her hair back, surreptitiously handing her one of the pins from my hair that would complete the little knife she would eventually have in her hand. “You’re going to be okay,” I said reassuringly.
Stellan muttered to one of his guards. “Check on the bartender. If any of the girls look ill or like they’ve had too many, even though there’s a two-drink maximum, make sure they all get put into cars then are taken directly home. I want confirmation, you hear me?”
His guard nodded. The other one remained in place. Stellan laughed. “You don’t need to stay. These two are harmless.”
Those were my favorite words in moments like this. His second guard left, and Stellan approached. He leaned down over ‘Crystal.’ “I’ve seen you before, right?”
She smiled sloppily. “I’m a guest of Veronica’s.”
He nodded. “Ah yes, Veronica. She did say she was bringing one of the girls from the restaurant where she works.”
Addie shook her head. “I’m not from the restaurant. I’m her masseuse.” Addie passed his little test with ease.
He grinned. “Ah yes, my mistake.”
That wasn’t a mistake. I knew it, and Addie knew it. He w
as testing her. He didn’t trust her. Which made things a little more complicated.
I stepped forward. “Well, thank you, Mr. Tusk. You can go if you want. We won’t take anything. Take my purse and hold it if you want, but I’ll just sit with her if you don’t mind.”
His gaze on me was steady. “Why did you want to come to the party tonight?”
“Well, I don’t know. My friend said it would be fun. I just went through a breakup, and I wanted to do something interesting and exciting, I guess.”
“Well my parties are definitely exciting.”
He took my hand, pulling me closer to him. “You really do have the most incredible skin.” His thumb traced over my opposite cheek, the one that wasn’t bruised.
I held his gaze, biting my bottom lip. “Do you do this with all the girls?”
“Well, I like my women to come to me. I rarely leave my house. And I always select the best women.”
Gag me. “Oh yeah? What makes me the best?”
“Your skin, your smile.”
I dipped my gaze low, my finger gently roaming over one of the rounded bulbs on the clasp of my purse. I peeled off the adhesive with my nail and then gently slid my hand up his torso to his neck, right under his ear. I brought my nail against his skin, displacing the adhesive, and smiled up at him as I ran my hand through his hair. “Why did you pick me?”
“Didn’t I already answer that?”
“Yes, my skin, my smile, whatever. But why did you really pick me?”
He shrugged. “You looked real. Unlike the plastic girls that are in there, you seem like you might actually be a person. And sometimes that’s what we’re all looking for, a little connect—” He frowned. “I…” He shook his head and frowned again. “Sorry. You’re just…” He glanced down at his glass.
I stepped back. “What’s wrong?”
“I fear I may have the same affliction that your friend does. Suddenly, I don’t feel well.”
He opened his mouth to call out, and I brushed my fingers over his lips. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Just lie down. I’ll help you.”
I took his hand as he wove toward the bed. When he leaned his weight onto me, I almost collapsed, but I kicked off my shoes and helped him to the bed. “Oh God. Fuck, is this okay? Are you okay?”
