Fantasy in Lingerie: Lingerie #6 Page 5

  Now I was almost done.

  I sat in my workspace, the room Bones had given to me. He rarely came in here while I worked, giving me my space so I could be creative without hindrance. The painting I made for him was still in here, leaning against the wall because he hadn’t found a place for it yet.

  At midday, my wrist started to ache, so I took a break and walked into the kitchen.

  The kitchen table was covered with paperwork, guns, and ammunition. Semiautomatic weapons along with pistols and shotguns were on the surface, surrounded by rounds of ammunition. Bones stood there, wearing a t-shirt and black jeans. He didn’t look up at me when I walked in, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes focused.

  I could grab any one of those and shoot him between the eyes.

  It was tempting—just for a second. “What’s all this about?”

  He took a few seconds before he finally turned his head my way. “Work.”

  “Work? It looks like you’re about to take out a whole country.”

  “I’m hitting Joe tonight.”

  He hadn’t mentioned it in a few days so I had hoped he’d dropped this vendetta. Bones was a smart man, but his stubbornness would get him killed. He needed to learn to release these grudges and move on with his life. He lived in the past way too much. “I was hoping you’d let this go…”

  “Do I ever let anything go?” he challenged.

  I stared at the shotgun sitting on the table. “Are these loaded?”

  “Yes.” He kept his arms crossed over his chest and stared at me, slightly amused.

  “And you’re just going to leave these out like this?”

  “Yes.” His confidence suggested he didn’t think I was a threat.

  “You shouldn’t be so arrogant.”

  He grabbed the shotgun sitting in front of him then popped open the barrel. It was full of rounds. He shut it again then placed it on the table right in front of me. “Take your shot, baby. I’m a strong man, but against a shotgun, I have no chance.” He stared me down and waited for me to do something.”

  I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face and shoot him right between the eyes. All I had to do was grab the gun and aim. But even if I had the strength to do it, the table was full of loaded guns. He was a lot faster than me, so all he had to do was grab a pistol and shoot me in the chest.

  If that weren’t the case, I might have done something.

  I turned around and walked into the kitchen.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  I stopped in my tracks and turned back around, my eyes full of warning.

  He maintained his arrogant expression.

  “You’ve kept me for over two months, and I’m still here. So drop that stupid look and make good on your threat.” I grabbed the shotgun and placed it in front of him.

  Instantly, his smile was gone.

  “Come on. Do it.” Both of my hands gripped the table as I leaned over. “What are you waiting for? Take me out and then kill Joe. Your vendettas will be over, and you can go back to your lonely and pathetic life.”

  The anger rose into his shoulders, but he still didn’t grab the gun.

  “That’s what I thought.” I turned my back to him, exposing myself completely, and walked into the kitchen. I shut down his arrogance and reminded him that he was just as weak as I was. He said he was going to kill me, but the more time passed, the more I thought he wouldn’t. He listened to my brother on my doorstep, and he protected me when he didn’t have to. This relationship wasn’t black and white anymore. He thought he had power over me.

  I had the same power over him.

  His footsteps thudded hard against the floor, telling me he was stampeding this way.

  I barely had time to turn around before he scooped me into his arms and lifted me onto the counter. He crushed his mouth against mine, and he kissed me so hard I could barely breathe. His shirt came over his head and fell on the tile, and then his pants and boxers were pushed down so his cock could be free.

  Like all the other times, my body was lit on fire, and I was kissing him back. My hands groped his hard body, and I panted into his mouth. My nails clawed at him, and I lifted my body so I could help him get my panties off. My shirt was pulled to my waist, and then he was inside me with one hard thrust.

  “God…” I gripped his shoulders and held on as he fucked me on the counter, his hips moving hard to get me deep and good. My knees were bent, and my ankles dug into his back as I held on. My face was pressed into his neck while he thrust over and over, claiming me as his and making sure I wouldn’t forget it.

  “Tell me you’re mine.” He pulled his face away so he could look me in the eye. His face was so furious, furious at listening to me speak to him that way. His blue eyes seemed gray because they lost their beauty. Full of rage and aggression, he took on a different appearance.

  I defied him, refusing to say the words he wanted to hear. My nails dug into him harder, and I enjoyed how big his cock felt inside me, how much it stretched me. He fucked me better than any other man had fucked me, did it with such possessiveness and rawness. Even if I survived this, I would never find a man who could replace him. I’d still touch myself to his memory, even years down the line. But I wouldn’t say those words out loud.

  He stopped thrusting, letting his big cock sit inside me. He breathed in my face, taking away the pleasure he just gave me. “Say it.”

  I didn’t want to say it. I refused to say it.

  He started to move slowly, giving me his big dick before pulling out again. He kissed me, giving me his tongue and his passion. He made me feel so good, even at a slow pace. Then he stopped again, taking away the pleasure between my legs. “Say it.”

  My head was in the clouds, and now all I cared about was the pleasure between my legs. I said what I didn’t want to say. And it hurt because I knew it was true. I’d been his for over two months, and I would always be his. “I’m yours.”

  He didn’t smile in arrogance, but his eyes darkened in approval. He fucked me hard once more, rewarding me for my obedience. He gave it to me good, making me moan and claw at his back. I could feel the orgasm approaching, feeling my pussy tightening.

  And then it hit me like a freight train, so powerful that it was unexpected. I bit his shoulder as I came all over his dick, enjoying the powerful climax that he gave me with such ease. He’d been fucking me for so long that he knew exactly how to make me come, and how to do it so easily.

  The shame rushed through me, but it didn’t compare to the pleasure.

  He looked into my eyes, the arrogance in full force. “That’s what I thought.”

  I watched TV in bed and waited for him to join me after he finished in his office.

  But he never came.

  I should just go to sleep, but it was difficult to get comfortable without him. Now I needed his hard chest, his warmth, and his beating heart as a lullaby. I left the bedroom and went to his office in search of him, wearing his t-shirt.

  He wasn’t there.

  I walked into the living room and found him sitting on the couch, loading his pistol with a black leather bag on the table.

  So he was really doing it.

  I stopped next to the couch, my arms across my chest. “You’re really doing this?”

  He cocked the gun. “Yes.” He clicked the safety then set it on the table. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

  “And what if you don’t come back?”

  He lifted his gaze to look at me. “I will.”

  “You shouldn’t be so arrogant all the time. Arrogance leads to mistakes.”

  “I don’t make mistakes. And that’s why I’m arrogant.”

  I shouldn’t bother with this conversation because I didn’t care anyway. “Whatever. Good luck.” I sat on the other couch, my arms still crossed over my chest.

  He stood up and placed his pistol in the holster. Then he pulled the strap over his shoulder.

  I had a bad feeling about tonight that
I couldn’t explain. When he left on his other missions, I was never worried about him coming back. But since this was personal, I was afraid it would cloud his judgment and make him do something stupid.

  He stared down at me, his broad shoulders thick in the black jacket he wore. “What is it?”

  I stood up, keeping my arms tight around his body. “Let it go, Bones. Just—”

  “No.” He walked to the elevator, dismissing the conversation.

  I stared at his back, my heart moving into my throat.

  He hit the button and waited for the doors to open. They came apart, but instead of stepping to leave, he turned back around and stared at me. He looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes, but they weren’t so pretty when they were filled with such hatred.

  I didn’t want to say goodbye to him. If he died, it would make my life easier. Maybe Joe would do the dirty work for me. But I was lying to myself. If Bones died trying to avenge his mother, I wouldn’t sweep it under the rug. I wouldn’t return to my apartment like nothing happened.

  It would hurt.

  I crossed the distance between us and stopped in front of him, my heart racing in my chest. I didn’t lower my arms because I didn’t want to welcome him into my body. But I was already standing there, giving myself to him. I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye. “You promised me you wouldn’t leave me…”

  He cupped my cheeks with both of his hands and looked into my face, his eyes softening once he looked at the vulnerability in mine. “I know.”

  “Then keep your promise.”

  He pressed his forehead to mine before he kissed the corner of my mouth. “I will, baby.”

  4

  Bones

  The job was easy.

  After he left the opera, he would head to the brothel a few streets away. Max told me he had an appointment there, with a busty brunette he frequented.

  Apparently, she wasn’t on his kill list.

  I sat in the black car at the curb, all the windows tinted and dark. It was a burner car, meaning I’d stolen it from the sidewalk, and I would ditch it somewhere random. They wouldn’t be able to trace anything back to me.

  Not that there would be anyone left alive to find me.

  The building looked abandoned, the windows carefully boarded up so not even a hint of light escaped. There was no movement on the streets around, no pedestrians or anything. Only powerful men walked through the front door because they didn’t care if they were caught walking inside.

  Only cowardly men used the back entrance, the ones with wives who couldn’t know about their dirty secrets. I’d paid for whores, but I never went to establishments like this. I never went anywhere public where people would see my face.

  Not because I had anything to hide.

  I waited in the car with my gun at the ready, the silencer over the barrel so I could do this quietly. I’d prefer to do this in private so I could torture the guy, but luck wasn’t on my side. Since there wasn’t a pot of gold at the end of this mission, my crew thought the risk outweighed the reward.

  I didn’t take it personally. This vendetta was my own thing. If Max asked me to do something like this for him, I probably would have done the same thing. Even if I killed this guy and all his men, it wouldn’t change anything.

  She was still dead.

  It was the coldhearted truth.

  I sat in silence and waited, listening for sounds and searching for headlights. I preoccupied myself with thinking of what Vanessa had said to me before I left. She wanted me to come back.

  She made me promise I would.

  Our relationship was so fucked up. I didn’t even know what we were anymore. She was my enemy and I was hers, but neither one of us wanted to kill each other. I kept telling myself when the time came I would pull the trigger.

  But I was starting to think that was bullshit.

  Maybe I could achieve my vendetta differently. Maybe I could kill her entire family but keep her as a prisoner anyway. That way I could spare her life and keep her as a slave.

  But I knew if I really wiped out her entire family, she would never fuck me again.

  She really would kill me.

  The only way to keep her this way, keep her passionate and affectionate, was to keep things the way they were.

  But I knew I couldn’t keep it up forever.

  And I certainly couldn’t let her go or drop this blood feud. That wasn’t an option. Which led me back to my original conclusion.

  I had to kill her.

  There was no way around it.

  But damn, when she was needy and clingy, I loved it.

  I loved it so damn much.

  I’d never find another woman to fill my bed the way she did. I would never have another woman who could take my fat dick the way she could. I would never have a woman slap me like that, who had the balls to stand up to me even though I was more than twice her size. They didn’t make women like that anymore.

  How could I kill a woman like that?

  I had to stop thinking about it. The more I thought about it, the harder it would be. It didn’t matter how much I loved being between her legs. I wasn’t going to be a pussy and chicken out. I had to kill her the way I vowed I would.

  Otherwise, what kind of man would I be?

  I just had to enjoy her while I could and put up that painting after she was dead.

  Headlights approached in the distance, and I knew it was time for action.

  It was an SUV, all black with black windows. It pulled up right to the curb, and then a man hopped out of the passenger side and opened the back door so Joe could get out.

  Here we go.

  I jumped out of the driver’s door and opened fire.

  I shot the man who opened the door for Joe, hitting him right in the skull so he went down like a potato sack.

  With lightning speed, another man hopped out of the other side, a semiautomatic in his hands. He opened fire, and I dodged out of the way before he could hit me. I landed a few bullets his way, hitting him twice in the chest.

  He didn’t go down, probably because of a bulletproof vest.

  I got hit three times right in the heart, but my vest protected me. I finally got him down, but Joe opened fire. His driver did the same.

  I moved behind another car and took cover while they shattered the windows. I waited for them to burn through their rounds before I took aim again. I reloaded then fired again, destroying the doors to the SUV.

  Another car sped down the road, the headlights becoming visible. He halted to a stop, and more men got out.

  Shit.

  He had had more backup.

  Fuck, I was outnumbered. Even I couldn’t do this.

  I pulled the grenade from my pouch and threw it at the SUV.

  They all ran for cover.

  I sprinted into the alleyway, but not before I took a bullet to the arm.

  “Fuck.” I didn’t slow down, sprinting hard and making more blood ooze from the wound because my heart was working so fast.

  I knew these streets better than they did since I’d slept on these sidewalks. So I cut across different alleyways and took alternate roads, even the ones that had been torn up and closed for decades.

  I was losing a lot of blood and growing weaker by the second.

  I wanted to call for backup but I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t drag Max into this.

  So I kept going until I found the right place to hide. I ripped off my shirt underneath my sweater and vest and secured my wound, applying as much pressure as I could. Then I turned off my cell so they couldn’t find the signal as they searched the streets for me.

  I’d be there until morning. And maybe even longer.

  I laid low until the following evening.

  When the night was at its deepest, I got into a taxi and headed back to my apartment.

  I didn’t catch sight of any of Joe’s men.

  They must have assumed I got away and gave up. They would try to figure out who I
was, but other than seeing glimpses of my face in the dark, they didn’t have much to go off of. I didn’t leave anything behind in the car, and the car wasn’t even mine.

  But it would make it much more difficult to kill him now.

  He’d be waiting for me.

  My sweater covered my injury so no one would know I’d been shot. Black was a great color to wear if you were trying to hide blood. But the bullet was painful, and I’d lost more blood than I should have. I needed to remove the artifact from my body and have it properly dressed.

  And I needed antibiotics—immediately.

  If it grew into an infection, then I would have a serious problem.

  Going to any hospital wasn’t an option. Joe’s men would be checking the records every hour, hoping I would show up.

  I was just around the corner from my place when I thought of Vanessa.

  She must be worried out of her mind. She made me promise I’d come back.

  I always kept my promises. Soon enough, she would see. I wondered what her face would look like. Would there be tears? Would she be angry? Would she fuck me harder than she ever had before because she was relieved I was back?

  Or would she just be disappointed instead?

  Disappointed that I hadn’t died.

  The thought hurt more than I wanted it to.

  When I finally arrived at my place, I took the elevator to my floor. The doors opened, and I found Vanessa standing right in the entryway, her eyes red and puffy from not sleeping. She was still in the same clothes she’d been wearing when I’d left. The second she laid eyes on me, her hands moved through her hair, and she breathed a sigh of relief so loud it could reach through solid glass. “You fucking asshole. You told me you would be back by the afternoon at the latest. It’s almost midnight. You didn’t call, you didn’t text, nothing. How could you—”

  “I’m here.” I cupped her cheeks and kissed her, caring more about that mouth than the gunshot wound in my bicep. My fingers dug into her hair even though they were dirty and smelled like metal from the gun. My lips moved with hers, bringing her down to a sense of calm. “Baby, I always keep my promises.”