Fantasy in Lingerie: Lingerie #6 Read online

  Fantasy in Lingerie

  Lingerie #6

  Penelope Sky

  1

  Vanessa

  I sat at the easel in Bones’s place and stared at the blank canvas. I struggled to decide what to paint. My artistic inspiration seemed to have disappeared from my body. After that conversation with Bones in my kitchen, I felt dead inside.

  The fight within me disappeared.

  I felt hopeless, like there was nothing I could do to control my own destiny.

  Bones really did own me.

  I took that gun from my father, thinking Bones wouldn’t suspect it. I wrapped it up in a sweater in my bag, assuming Bones wouldn’t look through my things. But he was a trained assassin, so of course, he predicted exactly what I would do.

  How could I fight my way out of this?

  I laid my cards on the table, and he knew I didn’t have a decent hand. Now he knew I didn’t want to kill him, and when it came down to the final moment, I didn’t have the strength to pull the trigger.

  But he didn’t kill me either.

  Maybe we were in the same boat.

  But he seemed intent on killing my family, and the only thing stopping him was me. As long as I continued to be the woman in his bed, he would leave my family alone. It was the only defense I had to protect my family. By pleasing him, my parents were safe every single night when they went to sleep.

  It was a small sacrifice to make.

  But what happened when Bones got bored with me and found another woman who caught his attention?

  I’d be screwed then.

  When my brush didn’t touch the paint or the canvas, I knew I was wasting my time. I had no motivation to create something. The last piece I’d made was hauntingly beautiful, and it seemed to suck all of my energy away.

  I finally gave up and set my tools aside.

  I didn’t want to be there anymore.

  I just wanted to be alone, to clear my head and think things through.

  I walked down the hallway and found Bones sitting at his desk in his office. He had a map in front of him, along with a silver pistol. He held a blade in his hand, and he was spinning it around his fingertips as he considered the map in front of him.

  I tapped my knuckles against the doorframe before I walked in.

  He kept circling the blade around his fingertips as his gaze lifted up to mine. A glass of scotch was on the desk, and he was shirtless despite the winter temperatures outside the window. Black ink covered him everywhere, only leaving patches of tanned skin in certain areas. No one in my family had tattoos and I’d never been interested in getting one myself, but when I looked at his beautiful body covered in art, I found it appealing.

  It made his hard body look even better.

  I stopped at the desk and stared down at what he was looking at. Three spots on the map had been circled with red ink. It was a map of Milan, and the three different points were about two miles apart each.

  He watched me, his face etched in lines of annoyance.

  I crossed my arms over my chest, wearing the white smock that had splashes of paint on it. My hair was pulled back and out of my face. “What are you working on?”

  “My next victim.” He stabbed the knife into the desk, making the blade stand up and the hilt point toward the ceiling.

  When I looked at his desk closely, I saw all the marks where he’d stabbed the knife before. “Who is it?”

  “The man who killed my mother.”

  My eyes turned back to him, the information unexpected. “You know who did it?”

  “Max figured it out.”

  “Who’s Max?”

  “One of my boys.”

  “So…what now?”

  “I’m figuring out a plan. He’s not an easy target. He’s the leader of a group called the Tyrants. They deal with illegal trafficking of weapons and such. They aren’t big by any means, not like the mob. But it won’t be easy. He doesn’t go many places alone, unless he’s fucking a whore, of course.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “Always is.” His hands came together, and he stared at me with his icy blue eyes.

  “Do you think it’s worth the risk?”

  “Meaning?” he asked.

  “You’re putting your neck on the line, but your mother is gone.”

  He obviously didn’t like that response because his eyes narrowed. “And if it were your mother?”

  I’d do everything I could to avenge her. But I didn’t voice that answer out loud, not when he already knew what I would say. “This guy sounds dangerous. Be careful.”

  “Maybe he’ll kill me and solve your problem.”

  Since I couldn’t solve the problem on my own. The idea of Bones being killed while trying to find justice for his mother made me sad, not happy. I should want him dead, but even in that context, I didn’t want him to die. “I don’t want you to die trying to avenge your mother. I hope you prevail and get the justice she deserves. Your family deserves peace.”

  His narrowed eyes slowly softened, just a little.

  “But I hope I have the strength to kill you before you lay a hand on my family. Because I don’t want to have to avenge them the way you have to avenge your mother.”

  The softness disappeared, and his gaze hardened once more. “Is there something you needed?” His tone was cold, as frosty as his eyes.

  “I’m going back to my apartment. I can’t concentrate, so I’m just wasting my time.”

  His reaction didn’t change, but he didn’t seem happy with that answer either. “Why can’t you concentrate?”

  It was a stupid question because he already knew the answer. “I just want to be alone for a while.”

  “To do what?”

  “Get away from you.” I told him the honest truth, getting to the point because I wasn’t afraid to tell him how I felt. With every passing day, I hated him more than I had before. But I hated myself the most. The gun hadn’t been loaded, but even if the reality had been different, I was too stupid to squeeze the trigger.

  I was a disgrace.

  He didn’t react at all, like those words meant nothing to him.

  I turned around without waiting for a response and walked out. I grabbed my bag from the bedroom then stepped into the elevator.

  He didn’t come after me.

  He left me alone like I asked.

  When I was in my apartment, I got some work done and then went out with some friends. We went to dinner and then to a bar. I drank a lot more than I usually did. A few guys hit on me, but I didn’t show any interest.

  Every man didn’t compare to Bones.

  I hated that he was right.

  I wasn’t attracted to a single man in any place we went. Even the hot ones weren’t hot enough. They weren’t built the way Bones was. They weren’t dark the way he was. They didn’t possess the right kind of confidence, the right kind of intensity. He was all man, all power. And he really did make all the others look like boys.

  Little boys.

  This man had ruined my life. I wasn’t the same person anymore. My tastes had changed, and now I was attached to a man who didn’t give a damn about me. He was my worst nightmare but also my wet dream.

  Ugh, I hated him even more.

  I walked home because I was so warm from drinking and being inside those stuffy clubs. I was just in my black dress and heels, the cold air feeling so good against my skin. I’d probably catch a cold by the time I returned to my apartment, but I didn’t care.

  I didn’t care about anything anymore.

  Bones isolated me from the world, preventing me from telling anyone what was really going on. He kept me in a cage with no bars, trapping me in my own min
d. He made me obedient by giving me the best sex of my life.

  It was a fucked-up situation.

  A dark car pulled over to the curb, and the passenger window was down. Some guy had his arm hanging out, and he grinned at me in the creepiest way. “Hey, you want a ride?”

  “If I wanted a ride, I would get a taxi.” I focused my eyes forward and kept walking. “Now, fuck off.”

  The car kept driving next to the curb, moving slowly and matching my pace. “Ooh…she’s got a mouth on her.”

  “If you like my mouth, you should meet my foot.”

  “Sure,” he said. “I’d love to meet anything on that gorgeous body.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Leave me alone. You’re creepy and gross.”

  “Gross? Come on, baby. Get to know me first.”

  Baby. I hated hearing him call me that. Only one man called me that, and only one man was allowed to. I’d tried to stop him from using the term a few times, but I eventually gave up because it started to feel right. Now it felt so right that hearing another man say it felt innately wrong. “I don’t want to get to know you. Now drive away before I rip your balls off and bury them in the snow.”

  “Why don’t you lick my balls instead?”

  That was it. I slipped off my heel, marched over to the window, and slammed my shoe right into his face, hitting him hard. “I told you to fuck off.”

  “Ah, shit!” He leaned away and covered his nose because it was bleeding. The heel of my shoe hit him good.

  I slipped my shoe back on and kept walking. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Bitch.” The car came to a stop, and the three men got out and came toward me.

  I was drunk and stupid, so of course, I wasn’t afraid. “You wanna go, assholes? Bring it.” I dropped my clutch and brought my hands to my chest, tightening them both into fists. “I’ll castrate every single one of you.”

  All three halted before they came near me, unanimously scared of me. They glanced at each other then slowly stepped back, not turning their backs on me.

  “That’s right. Get the hell out of here.”

  They ran back to the car, jumped in, and peeled out. They sped down the street like they were being chased by the police. I could hear the engine working hard even when they were out of sight. “Pussies…” I picked up my clutch before I turned to keep walking and slammed right into a brick wall.

  I bounced back, almost losing my balance.

  He grabbed me by the elbow and righted me, jerking me back until I slammed into his chest again.

  Bones.

  He looked down into my face, more pissed than I’d ever seen him. He grabbed me by the neck and squeezed, cutting off my air supply slightly just to make his point. His fingers shook because he wanted to squeeze me harder, but he found the strength to resist.

  Now, it all made sense.

  The men weren’t running from me.

  They were running from him.

  “You’re better than this.” He squeezed me a little harder, the vein in his forehead throbbing. The cords in his neck were thicker than they’d ever been before. He was in a black hoodie with jeans, most of his ink covered, with the exception of a few lines popping out of his neckline and sleeves. “You’re too fucking smart for this bullshit. What the fuck are you thinking?”

  “I’m not thinking…” I’m too drunk and depressed. I’m stuck with a man I hate, waiting around for him to finally butcher me. I’m too pathetic to retaliate because I’ve become so damn attached to him. “I can’t even go out to a bar and pick up a guy because I don’t want anyone but you. I can’t even kill you if I had the opportunity because I don’t want to. So I’m fucking stuck in this torture. Maybe I don’t care about walking home in the dark because there’s nothing to care about. Whether I survive tonight or not, I’m dead anyway.” I pushed his hand off my neck then shoved him hard in the chest, but instead of moving him, I shoved myself backward and toward the concrete.

  He caught me and lifted me into his arms. He carried me down the sidewalk in the direction of my apartment, which was just a few blocks away. My heels were left behind, and my clutch was stuffed in his waistband.

  I hated him for rescuing me, but the second his powerful arms were around me, I wanted him again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his skin, clinging to his warmth. I was suddenly cold now that the anger had passed, now that the adrenaline wasn’t pumping in my veins.

  He must have known I was cold before he set me on my feet. He pulled his sweater over his head and then yanked it down over my body.

  The warm cotton immediately surrounded me, keeping me warm and enveloped in his smell. It reached my knees, and the sleeves were far too long for my short arms. It was like a blanket instead of a piece of clothing.

  He lifted me into his arms again and carried me the rest of the way.

  “How did you know where I was…?”

  “Your tracker.”

  “Were you watching me this whole time?”

  “I’m always watching you, baby. Anytime I’m not with you, I know exactly where you are.”

  It made me feel safe, but it also made me feel powerless.

  “I’m disappointed in you.”

  “I’m disappointed in myself…”

  “The woman I know wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t put herself in a dangerous situation like that. She wouldn’t be so fucking stupid.”

  I rested my face against his chest and closed my eyes, not wanting to listen to his anger anymore. “Stop…”

  “I’m never going to stop, baby. I’m fucking pissed at you right now.”

  “It’s not like you care about me anyway…”

  He said nothing to that and carried me the rest of the way home. He pulled a key out of his pocket and let us inside.

  I’d never given him a key. “Where did you get that?”

  “The landlord.”

  “Why would he give you a key?”

  “Because he wanted to live.” He locked the door behind him then carried me to bed. He lay me on the sheets then pulled off the sweatshirt and unzipped the back of my dress before he yanked it off my body. It smelled like booze, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. He grabbed my thong and yanked that off too.

  I lay there, drunk and somber.

  He undressed next then got into bed with me. He spooned me from behind and wrapped his arm around my waist. His face pressed into the back of my neck, and his breaths fell across my skin. Despite how hard he was, he didn’t make a move to fuck me.

  It was anticlimactic. “What are you doing?” I asked into the darkness.

  “Sleeping. Now shut up.”

  “You never just sleep.”

  “Shh. You’re a lot more annoying when you’re drunk.”

  “And you’re a lot more annoying when you aren’t fucking me. That’s all you’re good for. So why aren’t you doing it now?” I turned over to look at him.

  He stared at me furiously. “Did it cross your mind that maybe I don’t want you right now? Because I don’t like stupid women who do stupid shit? I’ve never found you less attractive than I do right now.”

  I slapped him across the face. “Fuck you.”

  He turned with the hit and clenched his jaw, but he didn’t hit me back.

  “I went out tonight looking to get laid. That’s what I want.”

  “Really?” he countered. “Because it looked like you were trying to get raped.”

  I smacked him even harder this time, hitting him so hard my palm left a print.

  He took the hit again without striking back. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

  “Shut up and leave.”

  “Do you want me to fuck you or leave?” he countered. “Pick one.”

  I kicked him under the sheets. “I want you to leave and never come back. I wish my family killed your mother so you’d never been born. That’s what I want, asshole.”

  I knew I’d crossed a line when he gave me that look, that look that told me
I may not live long enough to take my next breath. His eyes narrowed with hostility, and there was so much threat in that expression I was actually scared.

  Scared that this would be the moment I died.

  His chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathed through his anger. He reminded me of a tiger about to rip his prey to shreds. He had the muscle to pull off each of my limbs. He could even tear off my head if he wanted to.

  But what would he do first?

  I scooted away, becoming more afraid as the seconds passed. I couldn’t move as quickly as I wanted to because I was too drunk to think straight. I was just confused…scared and confused.

  He left the bed, yanked on his clothes, and then stormed out.

  The door slammed behind him.

  And then it was quiet.

  I lay back on the pillow, the room spinning a little because I’d had way too much to drink. I wasn’t even sure how I walked in a straight line on the sidewalk. Once Bones was gone, the bed felt ice-cold. I started to feel scared, scared that I was alone in the apartment without him there. What if those men came back for me? The paranoia started to kick in, my illogical thoughts taking over.

  Bones saved me. If he hadn’t been there at that moment, I might be sitting in the back of that car. Or I might be naked in some strange bed, being raped by three different men. I put myself in a dangerous situation, and he saved me.

  My father would be so disappointed in me.

  I started to lose my grip on reality, this psychological prison taking its toll.

  I hated myself.

  I hated myself for being so weak.

  This wasn’t me.

  I wasn’t Vanessa Barsetti anymore.

  Now, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, feeling a little bit of the warmth that lingered after he left. I was naked under the sheets, and I wished his naked skin was pressed against mine. I missed the man I hated. I only felt safe when my tormentor was with me. It was a paradox, but it didn’t change the way I felt.

  I wished he would come back.

  And then I heard the sound of the front door. It was quiet, opening and closing softly.

  Was it him?

  Or was it someone else?