by Lane Hart
After just a few deep breaths, my stomach seems to settle down.
“You smell good,” I tell him.
“Sniffing me helps?” he asks.
“Yes. I think so.”
“Good.”
When I start to pull back, Miles turns his head and then his lips are on mine, kissing me for the very first time. He sucks on my bottom lip before saying, “Stop me if you feel sick again.”
“Okay,” I agree before putting my hands on his neck to bring his mouth back down to mine. His hard body wedges between my bare legs, grinding the bulging fly of his jeans right against my clit.
“Pull my cock out so I can feel you,” he orders, so I fumble with his zipper while his tongue slides along mine. I taste myself on him, but it just turns me on even more.
When I wrap my fingers around his long, firm shaft to pull him free, Miles groans into my mouth. And when I rub his blunt tip through my slit, he breaks our kiss to shout out a curse.
I love that I affect him this way, that just the barest touch makes him as hot as it makes me.
The rag on the back of my neck falls, and then Miles is frantically digging through his jean pocket and pulling out a condom. He has the foil packet open and his shaft sheathed in record breaking time.
Then his hands go under my knees, lifting them off the counter and spreading my thighs wide to open me up for him. One hard shove forward and he’s filling me to the hilt.
I’m still gasping from the first thrust when he picks me up off the counter and then starts slamming me down on his cock. I wrap an arm around his neck to hold on as he fucks me hard and fast. He’s so deep I swear I can feel him in my belly.
Miles
I told myself I was going to go slow if Kira ever let me inside of her again, but fuck if I could hold back once she rubbed my cock on her wet pussy.
God, I wanted to feel every slick inch of her. She may not be pregnant, though. Her upchuck reflex could just all be caused by me. If so, I don’t want to take another chance with her, so I put on the goddamn condom.
It’s impossible for me to get deep enough. Not when she was on the counter, or when I picked her up. I eventually lay her down on the middle of the kitchen floor. With her knees pressed to her tits, I finally hit rock bottom. Or heaven, as it should be called.
And she wanted me to kiss her, but it’s impossible right now. I swear I will after I get us both off. I’ll take her to bed and kiss her lips and lick her pussy for the rest of the night as soon as her pussy clamps down on my cock and milks me dry.
I jerk the cups of her bra down to get both of my hands on her tits to give them a squeeze while I thrust mercilessly.
When Kira cries out, I worry I’ve gone too far.
“Did I hurt you?” I still long enough to ask and get a response.
“No! Don’t stop!” she exclaims, reaching around to grab my ass cheeks, digging in her fingernails to pull me toward her body. “I’m so close…it hurts.”
“Hold on, princess,” I tell her, bracing one palm on the dishwasher behind her head. I slip my other hand under her ass to tilt her hips up and hammer inside of her body until finally, finally her cunt puts my cock in a vise grip and she screams my name.
And fuck, it’s like a fantasy come true seeing her beautiful face go slack with pleasure as my release races down my spine and tightens my balls before exploding in hot pulses from my cock.
“Fuck, Kira. Fuck!” I shout through the body-wracking tremors that leave me feeling weak, like all my limbs have turned into liquid.
I sit back on my heels to keep from crushing my girl, especially if she’s pregnant, while I recover, letting her lower her knees back down.
“That was…exactly what I needed,” Kira says when my pants are nearly gone. Then, her palms ease under my shirt and her fingertips stroke my stomach. “Why didn’t you get naked with me?”
“No need to,” I reply, pulling her hands back out even though I immediately miss them.
“You have a really nice body,” she says while I peel off the condom and toss it in the trash under the sink, then zip up my jeans. “I saw you mowing without a shirt the other day.”
Shit.
“What do all of your tattoos mean?”
“Nothing,” I reply when I’m on my feet, because there’s no way I’m telling her what all the birds symbolize. If she’s not sick yet, they’ll make her nauseous. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you on birth control?” I blurt out.
“No. Why? You used a condom, right?” she asks when she sits up.
“Yeah, I did. But last time…” I start to say and stop when I hear footsteps on the wooden steps outside.
“What?” Kira asks, but I crouch down and slap my hand over her mouth to listen closer, causing her eyes to bug out. But then she hears it too, the wood creaking; and her confusion turns to fear.
“Shh,” I whisper when I let go of her mouth to reach over and as quietly as possible remove the Smith & Wesson from the cabinet.
None of my brothers know I bought a house, so they definitely don’t know the address. The paperwork was filed weeks ago, so it’s on the public record. All someone would have to do to find me is look it up.
I never thought it would be a problem until Kira told me about the shit with her parents.
Well, there’s one way to tell if the incoming is friendly or antagonistic. Friends knock.
I quickly check the clip and rack the slide, putting a bullet in the chamber right as something heavy slams against the door, making Blackjack start to bark.
Whoever it is plans to come in with force.
The situation is not ideal, with Kira naked except for her bra on the floor beside me, but the bar provides pretty good cover. They’ll never suspect I’ll be armed and crouching.
That’s why I don’t move when I hear the door splinter apart at the lock.
No, I wait until I hear footsteps enter and hear a man say, “Check the bedrooms,” before I pop up and hold my breath while firing four quick shots, one in each man’s temple. They collapse to the floor like puppets having their strings clipped. If they’re not dead, they will be within seconds, that’s for certain.
When no other bodies step through the door, I glance over to check on Kira. She’s huddled in the corner, knees to her chest and both of her palms slapped over her mouth. Her eyes are watering, but she’s not freaking out.
“Good girl,” I tell her while the puppy keeps barking. “Stay right there, okay?”
She gives a slight nod of her head, so I slip out from behind the counter, check the porch and then the driveway. There’s no one else lurking, but I still go and open up the doors of the black Hummer blocking my driveway to check for more passengers, even the cargo area. It’s thankfully empty.
When I see old man Reynolds checking his mail, I hold up the gun and yell, “Fucking squirrels” just in case his ancient ears heard the shots being fired.
His eyes narrow at the mention of the critters he hates.
“You get a new ride?” he calls back to me.
“Test driving,” I reply. “It’s too big. I think I’ll look for something smaller.”
“Gas guzzlers,” he says with a shake of his head before he goes back into his house.
The rest of the neighborhood looks clear, not many cars in driveways since it’s the afternoon and most people are still working.
Jogging back up the steps, I pull the door closed even though it won’t lock and check on Kira.
“All clear,” I tell her. “I’ll clean this mess up when it gets dark,” I promise her with a wave of my hand toward the area of dead men. “You can take Blackjack and wait in the bedroom if you want. Or I can take you someplace safe.”
“No. I’ll stay,” she says when I offer her a hand up and she starts locating her clothing to get dressed, starting with her panties and jeans.
“You sure, princess?” I ask, and she nods as her shirt goes over her head
. “Just don’t look –” I start to say, but she’s already walking around me, going to the dog’s pen to pick him up. While she’s clutching him in her arms, petting his head furiously, she looks at the men.
“That’s Zeno,” she whispers. “I don’t recognize the others.”
“Zeno, the guy your dad owed money to?” I ask.
“Yes. Well, no,” she huffs. “I need to take Jack outside.”
“I’ll come with you,” I tell her when she goes to the door and slips on her shoes. I figure fresh air will be good to help calm her down after seeing me kill four men. Not that she seems all that shook up right now.
It’s probably shock.
In a few minutes or hours, she’ll realize what I’ve done and never let me lay a hand on her again.
How fucking ironic since I just finally got to be with her after waiting and wanting her for weeks?
Marriage is torture.
I’m tied to her, no matter if she’s scared to death of me. I should let her go, but it seems impossible now, even though we’ve only been together a short time.
In the backyard, Blackjack hops along the sparse grass thanks to the sandy terrain, raising his leg to pee on the fence every two feet, marking his territory and yipping at the air like he’s a tough guy expecting more visitors.
“Tell me about Zeno,” I say to Kira, figuring it’ll be easier to get her talking out here.
“He works for a man who helped my father start up his furniture business thirty years ago,” she says. “A man in Russia who uses his wood and fabric shipments to import illegal things into the country.”
“What kind of illegal things?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I think it’s guns and drugs.”
“So why did your dad owe him so much money?”
“There was a fire a few months ago. His furniture warehouse burned down, along with the things my dad was storing for Kozlov.”
“And Kozlov’s the guy back in Russia?” I ask.
“Yes. Zeno comes over to the states every so often to check in on their business interests, taking a percentage of profits from my dad and other people he helped get started here. Most of the conversations about Zeno and Kozlov are in Russian between my parents. I think I’ve heard them use the word for second, like Zeno is next in line to take over since he handles all the finances.”
“Next in line to take what over?”
“The, ah, the Russian mafia,” she says while fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “That’s bad, right?”
A choked cough is the only sound I can make after hearing that news flash.
I just killed four men…in the Russian mafia.
Mafias aren’t much different from MCs like the Savage Kings. If you fuck with one member, you get fucked up by them all.
It may be a while before news of Zeno’s demise gets back to the big daddy Russian; but when it does, we’re going to be screwed.
We meaning me, Kira, her parents…and now the Savage Kings.
If those men knew my name, they could easily find out about my association with the Kings and come after the whole club.
I need to fill in the guys, let them know about this clusterfuck I’ve inadvertently caused so we can start doing damage control.
First thing first, I need to get rid of four bodies.
At least they were kind enough to leave me with the perfect mode of transportation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kira
The afternoon has been incredibly surreal.
One minute I’m freaking out about Zeno coming after Miles. The next Miles and I are going at it, having earth-shattering sex, and then he’s killing Zeno and three other guys in the blink of an eye.
None of the men who barged into his house even fired a single shot. That’s how fast Miles took them down. I knew he was tough, and he told me about his sniper experience in the Marines, but seeing him in action, looking so badass is a whole other thing.
The fact that my husband can kill men so efficiently shouldn’t be hot, should it?
And this afternoon is the first time that I’ve looked at him and thought of him as just that, my husband.
The last few weeks he’s just been a stranger I happen to live in the same house with, occasionally talk to and hooked up with once.
Now, things have changed.
He said he wants me.
He showed me he wants me.
It feels like something has shifted between us, like we’re closer after the sex.
Or the murders.
I’m not sure which.
So when night falls and Miles takes off his leather vest to put on a black hoodie, a baseball hat and black leather gloves, I find myself telling him, “I can help you.”
“Help me what?” he asks absently as he pulls on the second glove.
“Get rid of them.”
He pauses with his hand in the air to lock eyes with me. “Are you offering to help me dispose of four dead men?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You can’t move them on your own, can you?” I ask.
“Like hell I can’t.”
“But wouldn’t it be easier if I helped? You know, like carrying their feet.”
Gloved hands going to his hips, he says, “Why aren’t you freaking the fuck out? I killed four guys.”
“I know,” I reply. “And I’m glad they’re dead. Well, I’m glad Zeno is dead. I didn’t know the others, but they were probably assholes like him. Is that an awful thing to say? I’m a horrible person.”
“No, you’re not,” Miles says. “I’m a bad person. You, on the other hand, are…perfect.”
“So are you going to let me help you or not?”
“You sure about this?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“All right,” he agrees.
“So what’s the plan?”
Miles just stares at me again before eventually answering my questions. “First, we need to roll them up in plastic; then we’ll take each one to the Hummer and load them up. I’ll take them to Hull Swamp and dump them. The water’s deep enough and dirty enough to hide them until something comes along and makes them disappear.”
“Okay. Let’s get this over with,” I tell him as I glance over to the gross men still bleeding out on the towels Miles laid on our floor.
Our floor.
I’m so used to referring to the house as Miles’ that I’m not sure when it became ours.
Maybe after he fucked my brains out in our kitchen.
Sex with Miles is addictive. He’s addictive. I want more of him. And I feel safe with him, protected.
“Have you killed other men before?” I ask him. He’s so calm about this, I get the feeling he’s done it a time or two.
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Less talking, more working,” he says, rolling out black plastic.
He doesn’t want to tell me, and I’m not sure why not.
Just like I can’t figure out why he didn’t take his shirt and pants off when we were going at it earlier.
The next time we have sex, I want to feel his skin against mine and run my fingers over his sexy, bad boy tattoos.
But first, we have bodies to get rid of.
Dead men are heavy. Especially Zeno, the jerk. He had to weigh more than two hundred pounds.
“I can’t wait to come back and go to bed,” I say once the last man is loaded up in the back of the Hummer.
“We won’t be back until late,” Miles says. “After we dump them, we have to dispose of the SUV.”
“Oh, crap.”
“And first, we need to go back inside and clean up the blood.”
Yuck.
Apparently, killing bad guys is the easy part. Getting rid of them and all the evidence is a serious pain in the butt.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Miles
Never in my life did I expect a good girl like Kira to help me dispose of these fuckers.
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I could’ve managed on my own, but it was nice to have a little help. We got it done faster with teamwork.
My wife and I are pretty damn good at moving dead bodies.
And everything is going great until we get to the swamp.
I open up the back hatch while wincing at the foul smell the four corpses are producing. It occurs to me that I should have warned her they’re going to start smelling fast, just as I hear Kira heave.
No. Fuck no.
“Get back in the car,” I tell her. But then I hear her hand hitting the side of the Hummer as she bends over. “No, no, no, princess,” I tell her, lifting the hair from the back of her neck to cool her down. “You can’t get sick out here. We don’t want any of our DNA left with their DNA. Got it?” I ask. “Breathe in through your nose, out through the mouth. You can beat this shit down, baby.”
She nods her head and pulls her shirt up over her nose and mouth.
“That’s good. Block out the smell and calm your stomach before you go sit down.”
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” she says when she turns to face me, assuring me or herself, I’m not sure which.
I wonder if she’ll say that after she finds out she’s pregnant.
If she actually is.
Only one way to find out.
And I need to tell her soon so that we can get a test to be sure.
Is it wrong that I hope she is because it means I’ll get to keep her?
But what if she’s upset and angry if the test is positive and blames me? I can’t make her stay with me. Well, technically I could, but I won’t.
All she was trying to do was help her father get out of a mess, not tie herself to an asshole killer like me.
Kira
“I’m so sorry I put you through all of this,” Miles says when we pull away from the swamp.
“No. It’s my father’s fault. And I swear I don’t usually have such a weak stomach. Normally, it takes a lot to make me queasy, but today has been awful. Maybe I’ve got a stomach bug or something.”