Timber (Hades Book 4)

by Tate James

  A small laugh escaped me, and I leaned up to kiss him. "Well, next time... come and join us."

  Lucas's brows rose, but instead of questioning me, he banded his arms around my waist and crashed his lips into mine. His kiss was hot and hard, demanding and full of pent-up longing. His arms tightened, lifting me up off the ground, and he walked us until my back pressed against the wall.

  "Next time, huh?" he repeated in a husky whisper as his lips found my neck. "What are you doing right now?"

  My response was to roll my hips against his rock-hard length crushing against my core. It no longer filled me with dread and sticky, black flashbacks. Nothing about Lucas could ever terrify me like that. Not a single shred of my body was scared of him hurting me.

  "Lucas," I sighed, squirming in his grip until my feet hit the ground. "Let me show you just how much I appreciate your idea."

  His eyes sparked with interest, then as I switched our positions, turning him to lean against the wall, understanding seemed to dawn.

  "Hayden..." He groaned as I sank to my knees and kissed his tight abs. "Are you sure you're okay with this? Because I could—"

  My response was to tug his shorts down and palm his erection tightly. His words cut off with a hiss, and his fingers threaded into my hair ever so gently.

  I knew he would happily swap places and go down on me instead, but this was what I wanted. I ran my tongue around his fleshy tip, tasting the salt of sweat and dick. Sure, post work-out blow jobs weren't the most floral-scented things, but Lucas wasn't a dirty human. He’d probably showered right before sparring with Zed, and really, when licking someone's genitals, could we be squeamish about sweat?

  "Oh fuck," he groaned as I closed my lips around his crown, sucking him lightly as my hand explored his length. This I was okay with. This was something Chase had never tainted, probably out of his own sense of self-preservation.

  I tightened my grip, stroking my hand down Lucas's huge dick as my jaw stretched to take him deeper. Goddamn, he was packing a lot. My cheeks hollowed as I sucked him, swallowing past my gag reflex, and I let out a small moan.

  Lucas's fingers tightened in my hair, holding my head firmer as I bobbed up and down his cock. Groans and muttered encouragement fell from his lips, spurring me on and making me work harder. My pussy was hot with arousal, and my thighs clenched tight as I sucked Lucas closer to climax.

  Unable to help myself, I squirmed, desperate to feel my own release as well. Lucas, sharp as ever, saw the motion and gave a low groan.

  "Touch yourself, babe," he encouraged. "Make yourself come too."

  I sure as shit didn't need to be told twice. Switching hands on his shaft, I flicked open the button of my pants and slipped my hand inside. My fingers found my swollen clit with ease, and I rubbed it eagerly.

  Lucas gripped my hair tighter, bucking his hips to fill my throat as he locked eyes with me. "I fucking love you so hard, Hayden," he groaned as I sucked him deeper and almost choked on his massive girth.

  My fingers flicked my clit as Lucas's hips jerked and his breathing spiked.

  "Shit, babe," he gasped, "I'm gonna come."

  I gripped him tighter, sucked him harder. When his cock pulsed and thickened against my tongue, I rubbed my clit in just the right way to spark my own orgasm. I gasped sharply at the waves of pleasure tightening my cunt, almost drowning as Lucas came in my throat.

  He released my head and slid free of my mouth with full-body shudders and his chest heaving, then gazed down at me with total adoration.

  "Babe," he panted, tugging me up to my feet and seizing the hand that had been inside my pants. Slowly and deliberately, holding my gaze the whole time, he brought my hand to his mouth and sucked my fingers clean. A heady shiver of arousal coursed through me from head to toe, and I almost came again right then and there. "You blow my damn mind."

  I moaned just a little as my pussy still throbbed with aftershocks. "You're pretty incredible yourself, Lucas."

  He flashed me that panty-melting grin of his and kissed me long and hard. We'd barely put our clothes to rights when Zed yelled out that dinner was ready, and we both started laughing with an edge of post-orgasm delirium.

  The look Zed gave us when we appeared in the kitchen said he knew full well what we'd been up to. Probably those damn security cameras again. Or just a good guess from how flushed and grinning we both were.

  "Gumdrop, Jesus. Go and change; I don't want your sweaty ass tainting the food." Zed rolled his eyes and snapped a tea towel at Lucas's backside.

  Lucas smirked, kissed me, then flipped Zed off as he jogged out of the kitchen to change.

  Zed gave me a long look, and I smiled innocently.

  "Uh-huh," he muttered, sarcastic as hell. "Name one time that angelic face has ever worked for you, Dare. One time."

  Admitting defeat, I rolled my eyes and headed over to where he was plating our dinner. "Zed, this smells divine."

  "Cute. I know your tricks, you know that?" he leaned in close and kissed my neck softly. "But I'll allow it."

  "Honey, I'm home," a deadpan voice interrupted our intimate little moment. I glanced over to find Cass slouching his way into the kitchen with a sly smirk. "Smells tasty, Zeddy Bear."

  In a deliberately antagonistic move, Cass booped Zed's nose, then swooped me up in his arms and carried me around the counter.

  "Dick," Zed muttered, glaring as Cass placed me gently down on the edge of the counter and cupped my face with his tattooed hands.

  Cass ignored him, though, kissing my lips softly. "How was your day, Red?"

  "It was actually really good. Seph and I had a really nice breakfast with Demi, then PT was better than expected—"

  "Her trainer is a flirt," Zed interjected with a growl.

  Cass arched a brow at me, and I rolled my eyes. Then, just to punish Zed for being an alpha-male asshole, I cupped my hands around Cass's ear and whispered the reason why Misha was most definitely not a threat.

  In response, he snickered at Zed's expense and kissed my neck.

  "How's Nadia's looking?" I asked, noticing the moss-green paint smears on his arms. "Seph is going to put in some hours to help with Diana."

  His brows shot up. "Fuck. Good luck to her. That kid is a damn firecracker. Repeats every goddamn bad word out my mouth and isn't afraid to pass blame when Nadia hears her."

  Lucas came jogging back into the kitchen looking fresh from the shower as Zed laid out plates on the table, and for a few minutes I just soaked in the domestic bliss of our unlikely foursome.

  Then I cleared my throat and dropped the plan I had for the rest of the night.

  "So, I want to go kill someone tonight," I announced.

  All conversation stopped.

  "Just... someone?" Zed was the first to recover. "Like, anyone? Or someone specific?"

  I glared at him. "Funny. Yes, someone specific. Now is probably a good time to tell you I have a little revenge plot I'd like to work out before our main plan for Chase falls into place. When I was escaping his house, I listened in on a conference call. There were six people named on the call. I want them all dead, one by one, and I want him to know it's me doing it."

  The three of them blinked at me, not speaking. So I elaborated.

  "Starting tonight with a certain Brad Walshman, CEO of Chasing Trucking."

  For another moment, they all just stared. Then Zed gave a wicked, deadly grin. "Alright, let's do it."

  29

  There was no way I would be in fit condition to go killing anyone without some sleep, so after we finished dinner I took my sleepy butt upstairs and crashed out in Zed's bed for a nap. He was given stern instructions to wake me at midnight, though.

  I'd found Brad Walshman's home address and wanted to strike when he was least prepared. In the dead of the night.

  Zed gently woke me up right on time, and the two of us quietly dressed and headed down to his Ferrari waiting in front of the house.

  "How'd you win that argument?" I asked as w
e drove into the night. When I'd gone to bed, the three of them had been heatedly debating who would come with me to kill Brad. I'd put my foot down and said it wasn't a group activity. Either they agreed on one of them coming along for the ride, or I'd go alone.

  Zed smirked. "Easy. I'm your second. It's just a simple matter of hierarchy; no one can dispute that."

  I wrinkled my nose. "Really? That easy?"

  He huffed a chuckle. "Nah, we had to do about sixteen rounds of rock paper scissors. Handled it like men, beautiful."

  I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. It wouldn't be the first time they'd settled something with stupid rock paper scissors. Not that it mattered; so long as they weren't bickering, I'd take it.

  "So," he said, changing the subject, "tell me more about this Brad Walshman." They'd asked shockingly few questions when I'd announced I wanted to kill a man they knew nothing about. I loved that.

  I propped my head up on my hand, my elbow on the door, and yawned. I'd almost punched Zed when he woke me up, before remembering I'd asked him to do it.

  "Brad Walshman, business major from University of California. Dabbled in multiple start-ups, evaded several embezzlement charges, ripped off a lot of unsuspecting people, now the CEO of Chasing Trucking." I gave a low grunt of disgust. "Can't believe I didn't spot that one sooner. Chase and Darling. Chasing."

  Zed glowered at the road like it personally offended him. "Remind me again how much we're gonna make that sick fuck hurt?"

  I grinned, focusing on our eventual plan for Chase rather than on the depraved things he'd done to me. "Anyway, from what I heard, Chasing Trucking was how those little girls were transported across the country and stashed in the Anarchy cellar. And if they've done it once, I'm willing to bet they've done it before. We're going to cut the head off the transport sector of Chase's human trafficking."

  Zed flashed me a feral grin. "Literally?"

  I smiled back. "Absolutely."

  It was a decent hour and a half drive to get to Brad Walshman's home, so Zed turned the stereo on and told me to keep sleeping if I was still tired. I told him I was fine, but the next thing I knew, we were pulling into a park on the side of a fancy, tree-lined suburban street.

  Every house was a miniature mansion with an immaculate lawn and zero security. Brad Walshman was a fucking idiot.

  Silently, Zed and I strapped on our weapons—one could never be over-armed when on an assassination mission—then closed up the car and made our way over to the dark house, circling around the back and checking for cameras.

  There weren't any, but just in case, Zed shot the motion activated floodlight before it could flick on. With the silencer on his gun, it was barely more than the sound of a chipmunk sneezing, then glass breaking.

  We paused for another moment, but no lights turned on inside the house, so we continued to the back door. I probably would have just broken the door to get in, but Zed had infinitely more finesse. He knelt and carefully picked the lock, letting the door swing open soundlessly. Why didn’t people have deadbolts in their safe little havens?

  "Show off," I mumbled, following him inside. The alarm panel on the wall was flashing, the warning signal that it was about to scream, but I used my knife to flick open the panel and plugged our little override chip straight into it. It was basic as hell and only worked on cheap, domestic alarm units, but like I said... Brad Walshman was a fucking idiot.

  The very thin file of information on Brad that Dallas had emailed me earlier in the day told me he lived alone. Wife and kids had left him years ago, and he'd made no attempt to maintain contact with them. He didn't even have any pets.

  It made our task all that much easier as we confidently moved through his silent house, heading upstairs to the master suite.

  Zed and I stepped into Brad's bedroom and found him spread out across the massive bed, flat on his back like a naked, snoring starfish. We locked eyes, grinning, and I pulled a roll of duct tape from the deep pocket of my coat.

  When it came to the logistics of what we needed to do, I was glad Zed had come along. I didn't want to just put a bullet through a sleeping man's head. There was no satisfaction in that. So I was more than happy to use Zed's muscle power to make things just a touch more dramatic—to give douchebag, child-sex-trafficker Brad the end he deserved and to make sure Chase got a front row seat.

  Working swiftly in unison, we wound the duct tape around Brad's ankles and wrists, binding him before he even woke up. When he did wake, jerking and thrashing in terror, we slapped a thick piece of tape across his mouth. No sense in waking the neighbors.

  "Hello, Brad." I smiled down at him. Zed had jerked him off the bed and shoved him to his knees on the floor. "I hear you've built yourself quite the little business in trucking recently."

  His eyes widened, pleading, but it was far too late for excuses. The second he’d dirtied his hands with those little girls, he’d signed his own death certificate.

  "Let's get a witness, shall we?" I suggested, letting a cold, cruel smile touch my lips. Spinning around, I headed out of the bedroom, knowing Zed would drag Brad along with him as he followed. The office was downstairs, and I took a sick sense of satisfaction listening to the thump, thump of his body bumping down each step and the pained moans from behind his taped mouth.

  In Brad's home office, I opened his laptop and pressed Brad's thumb to the fingerprint sensor to unlock it. Stupid system, really.

  The screen unlocked immediately, and it took me no time at all to find Chase's contact—saved under his real name, no less—stored in previous calls. Before I connected the call, I pulled a little slip of paper out of my pocket and followed the instructions Dallas had typed out. The code would prevent the call from being recorded and ensure all traces would be erased when the call disconnected.

  Zed pushed Brad into the chair as I clicked the button to call Chase, and we both ignored Brad's panicked mumbles and headshakes.

  It took several attempts before Chase finally answered the call.

  "This better be a fucking emergency," he snarled, the camera jostling as he grunted. In the background, the distinctive sound of bodies slapping together turned my stomach, and I swallowed bile when I realized he'd answered the call mid-fuck. "Oh. I see..." Chase's tone swiftly shifted as he focused on the video screen, which only showed Brad's terrified, duct-taped face and Zed's gloved hand around his neck.

  "Is that you, Darling?" Chase purred, his breathing ragged as he continued fucking whatever poor woman had the misfortune of being beneath him. "This is an unexpected treat. What do you want, my sweet? A little revenge?" He leered at the camera, then turned his phone around to show me the woman beneath him. She was totally unconscious, if not dead. Her bright red hair spilled across the pillow, partially obscuring her bruised and swollen face.

  "Remind you of better times, huh?" He started laughing like a maniac, his grunts and breathing coming harsher.

  Waves of revulsion ran through me so hard my whole body shook, but it was just that. I wasn't terrified; I wasn't spiraling. I was just sick to my stomach.

  Not interested in staying for the money shot, I decided to speed things up. Pulling a long dagger from the sheath on my thigh, I grabbed Brad's head by his greasy hair, jerking it back as Zed released him. Both Zed and I were in shadows, the light from the laptop only showing Brad, but Chase knew it was us. Just like I wanted him to.

  Steeling myself, I brought the sharp edge to Brad's throat and sliced deeply. Blood sprayed all over the laptop, drenching the screen and camera, effectively cutting us off. My blade slid free on the opposite side of his neck, leaving his head barely clinging on. Without a word, Zed took the knife from me and finished the job, severing Brad's spinal cord and dumping his head on the desk.

  The rich, hot, meaty smell of blood filled the air, turning my stomach, but I made sure to press the button on Brad's laptop to end the video call. It was the only way to be sure Dallas's code would wipe it properly.

  For a moment, Zed a
nd I just stared at each other across the decapitated corpse of Brad Walshman. We were both covered in blood, our black gloves and clothing sticky and glistening in the near darkness, yet I had the sudden urge to pounce on Zed and kiss the stuffing out of him.

  "Come on," he murmured. "Let's get out of here and call the cleanup crew."

  He took my hand and linked our gloved fingers as we left Brad Walshman's house and made our way back to the Ferrari. Before getting in, we stripped down to our underwear right there on the side of the street and tossed our bloody clothes into a waterproof bag in the trunk.

  When I slid into my seat in just my bra and panties, I was grinning like a maniac.

  "You're something fucking else, Dare." Chuckling, Zed buckled his seat belt and turned on the car. "That was crazy satisfying."

  "You're telling me," I agreed, squirming slightly in my seat. Was I seriously turned on right now? My mind kept replaying the cold, vicious look on Zed's face as he'd hacked through Brad's spinal cord, and, yep, my cunt was hot and throbbing.

  To distract myself, I pulled out my phone and called our cleanup crew. My instructions were clear: Wipe away any trace of Zed or me but leave the body and head. Chase could clean that mess up himself, and he would have to in order to protect his sick little trafficking line. I needed to tick off the other five names quickly, or he'd just replace Brad and continue on as normal.

  "I think I'm too wired to go straight home," I confessed after ending my call to Robynne. "Can we go somewhere?"

  Zed cast a long look at me from the corner of his eye, his lips curling in a smile. "I'd hoped you might say that. I have the perfect thing."

  I quirked a brow. "Does it require clothes?" I indicated our state of undress. We really should have brought a spare change of clothes, but it'd been a while since we'd done something like this. We were rusty.

  Zed grinned wider. "Nope, it does not. If you're okay hanging out in your underwear a while longer?"

  My core flushed with heat again. "Fine by me," I murmured, turning my face to look out my window. It was either that or climb into Zed's lap while he drove. And that, albeit hot, sounded like an accident waiting to happen.