by Jami Gray
Her mind ran through her limited options. Math would be livid when he found out about Havoc. Not just because she was working with someone, but that she was working with a Vulture. She had no idea what his problem was with Fate’s Vultures, but he made it clear he had one. She lifted her head and stared at the warped reflection in the cracked surface. This wasn’t good.
Her loyalty to Math was rock solid, but she knew, to the bottom of her soul, that the alliance coming together between the Vultures, Lilith and the Free People, was exactly what they needed to succeed with their own plans. Convincing Math of this would be nigh to impossible because her boss trusted no-one. He had reasons, good ones, but since she learned the same damn lessons at the same damn time she wished he wasn’t such a bullheaded idiot. You didn’t have to let someone walk in your soul, but you could trust them to fight at your side. She just needed a way to convince Math of this so she could share information with Havoc, and by extension, the others.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew what would happen when she and Havoc got back to the Royale. They would be alone and there was no way she could keep her hands off of him. Hell, she didn’t want to, truth be known. Being with him was playing with fire, the touch of it hot and bright. Thing was, the road she travelled was more oft than not, cold and dark. Which is why when Havoc stepped in, and continued to step in, that fire he brought, coloured her world. She wasn’t all that ready to go back to the shadows.
It was reckless, it was stupid, but for once in her damn life she wanted something just for her. And that something was Havoc.
Maybe she was tired of being alone. Maybe it was knowing the future was shaky as shit. Maybe it was because the man managed to get in where most feared to tread, and she kind of liked having him there. Honestly, it was all of that and more. The more being the feeling if she dug deep enough, she could unearth something in him she never had before, never really considered she actually needed. The same something that kept shifting her footing in the world as she knew it. The same thing she’d never, except in the loneliest hours of night, admit she envied when others found it. A partner, someone who’d treat her as an equal. Maybe even cherish her at the same time. What the hell was that? Love?
It wasn’t that she was looking for a lifelong shield—those were fairytales. Her momma had Mercy with a man she thought was her knight in shining armour. When he got his throat slit, she decided to find a new knight. But knights didn’t exist anymore and Momma never learned that, not until it was too damn late. As for Mercy, she picked up her own damn sword and kept the dragons at bay. It was hard work, but she never had to worry her sword would stab her in the back and leave her bleeding out for the dragons to eat. But there were times when it would be nice to have another blade at her side, to help drive a point home. Besides, at the rate things were going, her life expectancy didn’t stretch too far. Not that she ever thought it would, because the life she chose was brutal and short. So long as she managed to get her revenge before her last breath, she’d die at peace.
But there was one thing she wanted before that final moment, a chance to walk beside Havoc. The want of that was strong enough to leave her stomach knotted and she closed her eyes. Taking Havoc to her bed was asking for more than trouble, it was basically asking for heartache to come on in and set up shop. He’d demand she share. He’d demand full disclosure. She wanted to give it, but there were some secrets she could never tell because they didn’t belong to just her. Which meant if—when, she corrected—his need for the whole story hit her need to keep to secrets, whatever they shared would fly apart at the seams in a catastrophic mess. He’d walk away (more like storm away) thinking the worst and leaving her heart sore. So the question she had to answer—would it be worth the eventual pain to play with his fire?
Math would be pissed.
She met her eyes in the cracked mirror and admitted, this once, she didn’t care.
Havoc would be leagues above pissed.
She winced, her hand rubbing the ache in her chest. Probably, but it wasn’t like his heart was involved, so he’d get over it. Eventually.
You wouldn’t.
Nope she wouldn’t, but again, with the way things were going, her future wasn’t all that shiny anyway. As she stood in a dingy bar bathroom, her mind and heart clashed, but in the end, her scarred, lonely heart won. Life was too short to waste, so it was time to test her balance on the loyalty line because she couldn’t resist the burn. She made her way out of the bathroom and walked straight into the fire that waited for her.
Chapter 17
When Mercy made it back to the table, Havoc didn’t give her a chance to reclaim her seat. Instead, he caught her hand, and dragged her through the noisy bar. While she was busy in the bathroom he decided they needed privacy for his questions. Privacy they wouldn’t find here. Once outside, she didn’t pull away, but she did wait until they were next to his bike to ask, ‘Thought you had questions?’
‘I do.’ He pulled her around until she stood in front of him, put his hands on her hips and dragged her close. Her hands hit his chest as she curved into him. He bent his head and buried his face in her neck, taking her scent in deep. Yeah, he might be a dick going about getting answers this way, but the twinge of guilt at his plan didn’t stand a chance against the driving need burning through him. ‘Going to ask somewhere I can be sure I get answers.’ Then to emphasise his point, he drew his tongue along her neck, ending his touch with a soft bite under her jaw.
Her hands curled, her blunt nails scraping against his chest despite his shirt. ‘You going to use underhanded techniques to get me to talk?’
‘Oh yeah.’ He lifted his head and stared into her flushed face, not missing the lust burning in her eyes giving them a slumberous cast. Mercy was smart, damn smart. She knew just what he was doing and based off the sexy, knowing glint in her eye and the hands roaming his chest, she was more than up to his challenge. Taking that in, he knew this was a much better plan. ‘That work for you?’
Her answer was to bunch her hands in his shirt, rise on tiptoe and give him a hard, fast kiss followed by a wicked smile.
His head was still reeling when she dropped down and pulled away ready to mount his bike. He followed her lead and swung his leg over, waiting until she settled behind him before kicking it to life. When her weight pressed against him and her hands went low, her fingers teasingly close, he stifled a groan. It was going to be a long ass ride back.
* * *
The rumble of the bike broke the quiet of the downtown streets as Havoc turned into the lot and reclaimed the still-empty spot next to Mercy’s bike. She hopped down as he turned it off, waiting for him. Together they started the short trek to the Royale. He didn’t pull her close or wrap an arm around her, mainly because if they were jumped, they would both need the extra space for movement. Salt Lake might be a quiet town, but predators still lurked in the shadows. Mercy walked beside him, and with each step he sensed a rising tension replace her earlier ease. She wasn’t the only one, because he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling crawling over his skin. Catching Mercy’s second surreptitious scan, he knew his neck wasn’t the only one itching. He pitched his voice low. ‘See anything?’
She gave a short shake of her head.
Her answer didn’t do jack to soothe his instincts or the paranoia whispering in his ear. Havoc stayed between her and the shrouded street as they reached the door. He hit the buzzer, heard the click, and pulled the door open, letting her slip in first. He did one more scan as he shoved the door shut. Nothing. They headed up to their room without incident and only when he shut the door behind them, did the itch disappear.
She went to the bed, sat on the edge and began taking off her boots. ‘Someone’s watching us.’
‘No doubt.’
Her hands stilled and she tilted her head enough to look at him. ‘You expected this?’
‘You didn’t?’
She turned back to finish with her boot, but not before he caught the fact she
bit her lip. ‘He moved fast.’
Some note in her muttered response caught his attention and he stared down at her bent head, his earlier paranoia circling closer. ‘Who?’
‘Felix.’ She tossed one boot aside and slid him a look, before going to the second one. ‘Who else would it be?’
There was something going on in her crafty head. It was there peeking out around the hungry edges of her eyes. The woman was just chock full of secrets. He waited until she dropped the second boot before he moved to stand in front of her, trapping her between him and the bed. ‘Don’t know, but thinking you do.’
At his unexpected move, she straightened, her hands flying to his thighs as if to hold him back as her head fell back and she looked up with a frown. ‘What the hell, Havoc?’
Looking down, taking in her position, lust rose in a quick fire rush. He breathed through it, reaching out to pull the tie from her braid. He began unravelling her hair, using the motions to soothe the ragged edges of hunger. ‘Your turn for answers, babe.’ When it was free, he ran his hands though the silky strands until no tangles remained. Instead of easing, the hunger turned and sank its edgy teeth in deep. He forced his touch to stay soft, his voice gentle as he put his interrogation plan into action, otherwise he’d be done before he even got started.
Her forehead hit his stomach on a soft groan. ‘Not fair.’ She closed her eyes and let him stroke her, her complaint further serving as her tacit agreement of his unorthodox methods. Her hands unconsciously kneaded the thigh muscles under her hands.
‘Wasn’t meant to be.’ Gathering her hair in his hands, he bent down as he tugged her head back. He caught her mouth with his. He took his time tasting her, his hands moving from her hair to cup her jaw, angling her just so. Her mouth parted under his, and he took her offering. His tongue swept in and took hers on a slow, seductive ride with a lazy heat. The hands drifted to his hips and continued to stroke up to his waist, and his cock followed suit, straining against the confines of his pants. In an effort to ease the pressure, he set a knee to the bed and shifted his weight to the side without breaking their kiss.
She turned with him, inching higher on the bed so as not to lose his mouth. Her hands snuck under his shirt, her palms drifting over his stomach, then his ribs and back down, leaving fire in their wake. Swallowing his groan at her touch, he rolled, keeping her with him as he nibbled along her lips. One hand slid down her spine, the other to her hip as he went to his back. She fell with him, and after a sharp nip to his lower lip, she began trailing kisses over his jaw and along his neck. While her mouth stayed busy, so did her hands, gliding under his shirt. They mapped his chest, brushing along his stomach to dip under the edge of his waistband. The tips of her fingers brushed against the aching head of his dick and it jumped at the touch.
As she undid the top button, her tongue drew intriguing patterns at the base of his throat. He cupped the back of her head and brought her back to his mouth. After a punishing kiss where her clever hands stopped trying to free him and curled into his waist, he used her hair to carefully pull her head back. His chest pumped as he sucked in air in an effort to focus. Mercy’s lips were red and swollen, colour burned under her cheeks, and her gaze was soft and dark. Difficult as it was, he didn’t dive in for more, instead he wrapped her in his arms and rolled her to her back.
As he came over her, her hands flew to his shoulders and held on at his unexpected move. Her legs shifted so his weight fell between them, but she was well and truly caught. She squirmed, and the feel of her moving under him scrambled his brain. He caught her soft gasp as her softness rode his hardness. It was pure needy reflex that had him pressing deeper.
‘Havoc.’ His name came out on a husky cry as her neck arched, her eyes fluttering close as colour washed from her neck to her face. The bend of her spine drove her tits against the thin protection of her shirt, the material stretching over distended tips.
Unable to refuse her silent invitation, he made quick work of her shirt and let her return the favour. A no-frills bra kept her breasts contained within the thin material, but didn’t do much for coverage. He cupped her tits, letting her curves fill his hands. He brushed his thumbs over their tips and watched her lashes flutter as another soft, needy sound escaped her lips.
God, he could get off watching her get off on just the feel of him. And he would, after he got the answers he needed. Forcing his hands from the beauty of her chest, he took them to her tucked in waist, and settled at her hips. Throttling back the fast rising tide of hunger, he nipped her chin. Her lashes rose and he stared into the gold shot emerald. A startling depth of need stared back. Shocked by it, his first question wasn’t his intended. ‘Babe, how long?’
Her little movements stilled as she tried to process, a frown wrinkling her brow. ‘How long, what?’
Catching the strangely vulnerable confusion in her response, he kept his voice gentle as he clarified. ‘How long has it been since you’ve been touched?’
The soft curves under him stiffened, and he took the sting of her blunt nails on his shoulder in stride. Feminine pride was shoving passion aside. ‘Does it matter?’ Her question carried a bite.
Instead of giving her temper more fuel by grinning, he shifted forcing her legs to widen, allowing his hips to sink in and press his cock against her welcoming heat. ‘Does that feel like it matters?’
Her gaze drifted over his face, her thoughts shuttered. One breath, then two and her body slowly relaxed under him.
‘Does it?’
She shook her head.
‘How long, babe?’
Her eyes left his to follow her hands as they petted his shoulders and stroked down his chest. ‘For just me? Years.’
At her hesitant answer, a clawed hand gripped his gut, tightening its hold as her gaze slowly came back to his. He didn’t want to think about what it meant that he had to ask this, but there was no avoiding it. ‘You sleep with Tavi?’
Her hands stilled against his chest and her chin lifted. ‘No, not Tavi.’
‘But others,’ he growled, even as he cursed himself for reacting. It wasn’t like she was his to keep. Not that the reminder did jack shit to ease his roiling gut.
Her eyes narrowed, her lips thinned and her hands caught his face, holding him in place as she lifted her head. ‘My job was to get in tight with the Cartels. Tavi was the weak link. He likes women, especially ones who can keep him guessing. I kept him guessing.’ She paused, her eyes searching his face, her voice went softer. ‘But before that, other jobs required more.’
Her words hit his gut like a brand. He took the hit, letting the burn move through him. Shifting a hand up by her head to brace his weight, he leaned in, forcing her hands from his face to his hair. ‘Your job sucks. Should think about a new one.’
Her fingers curled, her nails scraping against his skull even as she turned her face away, but not before he caught the shadow of regret. ‘Like the one I’ve got, thanks.’
Maybe she did, but it still bothered her. And that reaction eased a bit of the burn. Taking advantage of his position, he laid a line of kisses against her jaw and down her neck. ‘You sure about that?’ His mouth swept over the delicate curves, vanilla and spice hitting his tongue. Hard as it was, he kept on track. ‘You’re working males you can’t even mention without sneering. You’ve got a dick boss who won’t let you talk, even if it saves your ass. Seems to me it’s a shit job.’
‘He’s not a dick.’ Her protest ended on a gasp because he set his teeth against her neck in gentle reprimand.
He lifted his head, turning her face back to his. ‘He the reason you won’t share?’ He didn’t miss her mouth going tight or the flash of temper in her eyes, so he kept on. ‘He’s the reason you won’t share, even though you want to. Think I can’t see that, Mercy?’
When she remained stubbornly silent, he decided to play dirty. ‘What’s he got over you?’ Using the hand at her waist, he drew it up, taking in every heated inch of softness he could reach.
He stopped just under the band holding her breasts, his fingers drawing invisible lines around the material’s edge and then sliding up over her tempting curves, but never really touching what he wanted.
Her gaze locked on to his hand, going soft as her lips parted. ‘Nothing.’
He palmed her breast and brought it to his mouth. He trailed his tongue along the edge of cotton until a low whimper escaped her throat, then he used his teeth to tug the material down over her flushed flesh so he could sweep his thumb over one turgid tip. He lifted his head as her fingers tightened in his hair, her spine bowing in response. ‘A woman like you doesn’t hold secrets for just any man.’
‘You don’t know me,’ she managed, desire glittering in her gaze.
Wanting full access, he got rid of her bra and rubbed his chin over her breast, listening to her breath catch as his thick scruff rasped over her sensitised skin. ‘Only because you won’t share, babe.’
‘I can’t.’ It came out on a near wail. Probably because he chose to curl his tongue around the pouting nipple of her breast caught in his hand.
When he finished, he tried again. ‘Can’t or won’t?’
‘Can’t, Havoc, I can’t.’ She moved restlessly under him, desire digging its heels in despite the wariness sliding in under the heat. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘For who?’ He shifted his hips, digging his iron hard cock against her heated softness, then with another shift began a taunting, rotating slide. His aim proved true when a shudder went through her, followed by a throttled groan. Then it was his turn to groan when she planted one foot against the bed and hooked her other leg at his hips, her heel digging into his ass as she rose to meet him. Even with the barrier of their pants between them, it was fucking hot. As the need to sink deep inside what she offered burned through his brain, he barely managed to stay focused on his target. It hurt to pull back, not much, but enough. ‘For who?’ he repeated on a guttural growl.
