Power Play: A Romance Collection

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Power Play: A Romance Collection Page 38

by Lauren Landish


  To her credit, Claire doesn’t so much as blink at our plotting to murder a man in front of her. Instead, she looks to Emma and then to me, resolve in her eyes.

  “You’re a smart man, Nathan. You know how to use your resources under the table, behind closed doors, and turn people to your side even when they know it’s not the smart thing to do.”

  I get the feeling she’s not talking about my business dealings anymore but about how I used Emma to get FBI info. She’s smart, though I wonder when she figured out that Emma was telling us both everything.

  She turns to Kyle. “I did my homework on you after our meeting. I know your type, your style. Don’t go in guns blazing. Subtlety is sometimes the most effective and efficient style of warfare.”

  Standing up, she slaps the laptop closed, pulling out an SD card and handing it to me. “The docs. It seems I’ve got quite a bit of work to do to cover my own ass with my missing partner. You’ve got about twenty-four hours before people start looking into him. I’ll do my best to make sure what they find doesn’t lead them to your doorstep. You do your best to make sure he’s never found.”

  I nod and offer her my hand, knowing what it cost her to say that. “Thank you.”

  She takes it but pulls me close, squeezing the life out of my hand. “Hurt her, and you’ll be the one lying dead in your kitchen.”

  She leaves and the tension fills the room once again.

  Suddenly, our ragtag team of four is back at the plate. I ask the question first. “What do you want to do?”

  Kyle looks from me to Carly, his eyes hard, and I know his answer even before he gives it voice. “I’m done. You have balls in play still, but I feel like I can step away. I’ve got the answers I wanted and the justice I needed. The man who pulled the trigger paid with his life, which was my goal all along. Anna would want me to move on, and I’m going to honor her by doing that. With Carly.”

  I nod, understanding his role in this. He didn’t sign up for international conspiracies just to avenge his dead fiancé and baby . . . and he’s done so.

  “I can respect that, but it seems I can’t do that. Not yet.”

  Kyle frowns, looking uncomfortable but set in his decision. “I know. Sorry. For everything.”

  He stands and pulls Carly to her feet with his good arm. “We’ll get out of your way.”

  I stop them, holding out a hand. “Plenty of bedrooms upstairs. It’s been a long day, a really fucking long day. Just crash here. You’re safe.”

  Kyle laughs darkly, lifting an eyebrow. “Safe? You’ve had two breeches in the last twenty-four hours.”

  I snort at the dig. “True, but I figure with both me and you around, we’re a lot better off. And still safer than a Holiday Inn. Higher thread count too.”

  Emma and Carly grin, and even with the pendulum swinging over my head, there’s a moment of levity. Carly steps forward, hugging Emma tightly and questioning her. “You sure? 110% pinkie-swear you’re sure about him?”

  Emma looks back at me and then smiles big at Carly. “Abso-fucking-lutely. You sure too?” She stage-whispers, “He’s kind of a monster, you know?”

  Carly’s smile is pure devilment, her eyes sparkling as she bobs her head up and down. “You have no idea. This is the trained version. I’ve domesticated him to this level with pure focus and never-ending steadfastness, even when he tried to push me away.”

  I swear I see the slightest blush on Kyle’s face, but he doesn’t seem the type to get embarrassed about any damn thing. I decide it must be a trick of the light when he swoops Carly up and tosses her over his good shoulder.

  “Which way?”

  Though Carly is screeching, she seems to be right where she wants to be, or at least on her way to it. “Upstairs, second door on the left. Not right. That’s Caleb’s room when he stays over.”

  I would not want my brother walking in on what I suspect is about to happen.

  Chapter 45

  Kyle

  I meant what I said. I’m done with the past. Done wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing, in pain and misery.

  I have been reborn in her eyes, and like any born-again convert can tell you, there is freedom in that new beginning.

  I toss Carly to the bed, not even taking notice of the fancy shit that surrounds us.

  All I see is her. All I am is the me that she sees, a better version of myself than I’d ever hoped to be again.

  I’d given up. I hadn’t even admitted to myself that I was going to find Anna’s killer and then wither away, or maybe more proactively, give up. I just kind of figured when I did find the man, that’d be the end of me, and I had accepted that fate. But I have a reason to live, to be, to continue this existence with Carly by my side.

  Her eyes meet mine, and she cups my face. “Are you sure, Kyle? I love you. I can wait if you’re not sure.”

  I haven’t even told her what I’m intending to do to her, but she can feel my intentions. Can feel that I’m all-in. With her.

  I lie on top of her, pinning her with my weight so she feels the heaviness of my plans, of my very soul. “You’re not the future I’d planned, but you’re the one I want with my entire soul. I will always love Anna and our baby, but I love you too.”

  Carly’s smile is bittersweet as she strokes my tired, scruffy face. “I don’t begrudge her place in your heart. I’m not jealous. In a weird way, she brought us together. I wish you’d never had to experience the pain of losing her, but I promise to do whatever I can to make your future beautiful and crazy.”

  “Just like you,” I reply with a small smile, “beautiful and crazy.”

  I kiss her. There’s no need for words anymore. In this moment, there is only us. I’m choosing her, choosing us, and she’s doing the same.

  Fully.

  Openly.

  Powerfully.

  Our passion ignites in an instant, all the weeks of barely-held restraint rushing in on me, and I yank and pull her clothes off.

  “Careful of your arm,” she groans, but she’s helping me get us naked too.

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I tell her reverently, taking in her lush curves and the tawny rose nipples already peaked up for me. For weeks, I’ve studied the way her body moves with feline grace, but now she’s even better than I imagined.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she says with a wink and a laugh in her voice.

  I nip her breast, and she shrieks, arching under me. I like that she makes me lighter, that even in a moment like this, with her, there’s always a laugh just beneath her surface.

  I want to tease them free, listen to her joy every moment of every day.

  But as I suck deeply, drawing more of her nipple into my mouth, she moans. And I think I want to pull more of those sounds from her too.

  I switch to the other breast, tasting and taking and marking her pale skin. “Fuck, Kyle. God, I’ve wanted you. Please . . .”

  I don’t think this girl has ever begged for anything a day in her life, and that she would plead for me is an honor I cherish deeply. And a responsibility I take gladly.

  I should take this slow, but I can’t. Too much has happened. I’ve waited too long for her, fighting back against the inevitable. I need her now.

  I tease my head along her slit, reveling in the slick evidence of her desire as it coats me, preparing me for her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined fucking you, how many positions I’ve dreamed of bending this sexy body every which way so I can get at your sweet pussy.”

  “Mmm, challenge accepted. Though my fantasies tend toward you holding me up against walls with those tree trunks you call arms,” she says, every word a breathy half-moan. I make a note to do that next time, because there’s going to be a next time.

  Lots of them.

  I lift up from her, looking down at my cock, where it’s just edging into her, wanting to sear this moment into my memory for all time. Her hips buck, trying to suck me in.

  “Look at that pretty pussy, so
hungry for me.”

  I move my hands, pinning her hips down and feeding her a slow inch at a time.

  Her whimper brings my eyes to her face, and our gazes lock, both of us groaning at the sensation of her velvet walls opening for me. I’ve had sex, I’ve made love, and I’ve fucked before. And this is . . . us making vows with our bodies. Committing in a way that means more than just a physical connection.

  Fully seated inside her, I whisper her name, “Carly.”

  “Kyle.”

  I roll my hips, bottoming out inside her, and she moves in waves, meeting me every time.

  When she cries out, I lose every last grip on my control. Our bodies speed up, the tempo growing with every thrust, every slap of our skin, harder and deeper and more powerful with every thrust until our hips are smacking together haphazardly.

  Her arms and legs wrap around me, holding me to her, but I’m not going anywhere, not ever again. I want to stay with her, inside her.

  I shudder, overwhelmed at feeling so much, physically and emotionally. “Goddamn, Carly. You feel so good. I didn’t dream it’d be . . .” My voice fades off as her inner muscles squeeze me, pulling a guttural grunt from me. And pure pleasure takes over my brain and body, sparking white lights at the edges of my vision. “Yeah, fuck me back with that sexy pussy. Take my cock.”

  “Give it to me. I want it all,” she demands, ever the bossy girl I love. Fuck, I do. I love her. I didn’t see that coming, didn’t see her changing my destiny. But in every way, small and large, she’s changed it all.

  We ride it together, reaching higher and higher until there is nothing in the world but the two of us.

  No past, no present, no future. Just us awash in this moment, in each other’s skin and soul. With eyes wide open, we come together.

  The release rushes through me, hot jets of my cum filling her in pulsing waves, and I watch intently as Carly’s face tenses in rapture. Her walls flutter around me, butterfly kisses of satin that keep me falling. Falling into the abyss of pleasure, into her. Her joyful cries echo around us, letting me know that she’s with me all the way. Always.

  And though I’ll never be the same man I once was, I’m something different, something better with her now.

  She’s mine. And I’m hers. Light to dark, flight-er to fight-er, rebel to rule-maker, but somehow, it works.

  I don’t think she’d accept it any other way.

  Carly

  Kyle draws me in against his body, whispering my name against the skin of my shoulder as he breathes me in. Even in his sleep, he is mine now.

  But he was hers, too, and I’ll always be thankful for the love she gave him, even if it almost broke him to lose it.

  I make a silent promise to the darkness.

  Anna, thank you for loving him. Thank you for sending him to me. I will love him, cherish him, and take care of him like you would’ve. Stay in his heart, there with me. You’re his past. I’m his present and future, and together, we can love him forever. Deal?

  Though there’s no magical sign that her spirit heard me, I do feel a sense of peace in my core and I’d like to think that it’s her agreement.

  Kyle lets out a small, soft snore, something more befitting a mouse than the giant of a man that he is, and I try to suppress my grin. I don’t know what adventures the future holds, but I’m excited to experience them all with him at my side.

  Chapter 46

  Nathan

  Finally alone with Emma, I look her in the eyes. “I have to finish this.”

  The weight of this responsibility rests heavier than anything I’ve ever withstood. I’ve done some risky things, but the only blowback was on me. This time, it could potentially harm Emma.

  But I’m damned if I do nothing and damned if I do something. And passively letting others decide my fate has never been my style.

  She nods, resolutely agreeing. “I know.”

  She’s giving me nothing, so I have to ask, even though I’m scared of the answer. “I was telling your sister the truth. I try to run the company as above-board as I can, but the gem industry is notoriously dirty. Filthy and ugly. Riches born on the backs of the workers who risk themselves in the mines, on the margins businessmen in fancy suits exploit to make even more money, on a culture that sells people on the myth that a stone somehow signifies what’s inside their heart. It’s . . . my business. But even before this, I wasn’t a good man, a good son, a good brother. I’ve done horrible things in my life, but they were all before you.”

  She swallows, holding her breath. “And now?”

  “And now, I’m about to do something awful, either by my own hand or by forcing another’s, and I need to know if you’re going to still be standing here with me after I do that. I can’t lose you, not when I just found you. If I do this, will you still love me?”

  The answer will either gut me or set me free because I have to do this either way.

  Emma moves to me, pushing me to the couch and straddling my hips.

  Though gentle, her hands on my shoulders keep me motionless, defenseless to her verdict. She bites her lips, like the judgement pains her, and a fissure trembles in my heart, threatening to crack it in two.

  “You are who you are, and I love you. No matter what. It’s not a variable. It’s not conditional based on your actions. It just is. Do what you need to. For you, for me, for Caleb, even for your dad. This is the final step in your mission. Avenge him, wash away all trace of his sins so that you can be free to live your own life the way you want. You and Caleb, as brothers. And you and me too. I love you, will always love you. No matter what.”

  I shudder beneath her, some magical balm soothing the jagged edges of my soul. “How is it that you can see me, truly see me, and somehow find something redeemable?”

  She starts to answer, but it’s rhetorical. I don’t need to know how. I’m just thankful that she does.

  I silence her compliments with a kiss, telling her with my tongue that I appreciate her acceptance. A welcoming that no one has ever shown me.

  “I know we’ve talked about it already, but I want to say again, the past is the past. I wouldn’t change how you came into my life, kitty. You were willing to risk everything, even yourself, to help Claire, however misguided it may have been. And then you helped me, selflessly, bringing me to life in the process. Today is just another step for us. But the thread that connects them all is that I love you. I didn’t think I even could love, but you’ve taught me how, and I plan to spend the rest of my days showing you how grateful I am that you saw possibilities in me.”

  I grip the back of her neck, pulling her to me, but instead of kissing her, I lay her forehead against mine. Eyes intense, breath shared, hearts beating as one. A single tear rolls down her cheek, but her lips lift.

  “Do it,” she says.

  Nodding, I pick up my phone and call a number I’ve only dialed a handful of times, almost expecting him not to answer, but the line connects.

  “Da?”

  “Nikolai, it’s Nathan Stone.” He hums a noise somewhere between curiosity and leeriness. “We have business to discuss.”

  He chuckles dismissively. “Nyet, safe passage in and out was given. My mother appreciates the pink diamonds.”

  I purse my lips, trying to decide how involved he is and wondering if I should’ve waited to let Caleb look into this more, but the chance for that is gone, so I play fast and hard.

  “That was the deal. Are you telling me that you allowed safe passage, only to renege and send an assassin after me on US soil?”

  The choked gasp of rage he gives is all the answer I need. “What? No, I did no such thing. What are you talking about?” His accent thickens in his shocked anger, making the words run together.

  “I thought you’d say that. In that case, I have some info you need to know. It could potentially help us both or greatly harm . . . you.”

  “What is this info?” he asks suspiciously.

  “How involved is your father in operation
s these days?”

  He doesn’t answer as I expected. He’s not going to share family secrets with an outsider, but I need to set the stage.

  “Back in the day, it seems our fathers had occasion to do business from time to time. But somewhere along the way, things got messy. Papa Romanov hired a man—you’d know him as John Mattison—to kill my dad.”

  I let that bomb sit and detonate fully, but instead of the whoosh of surprise, Nikolai sighs, letting me know he was already aware of this.

  I forcefully corral my anger that he knew and continue coldly, “And then he flew this man to Italy, where he killed Anna, one of my father’s resources. An innocent—pregnant—woman.”

  I hear creaking on the line, and I can picture Nikolai rearranging himself in his chair. “Da, I know this.”

  He sounds bored, like he’s just placating me by listening.

  “You knew all this?” I growl. “Then I’m sure you already know why I’m calling.”

  “Da, to declare war or whatever shit you think must be done before you ride in like a cowboy,” he says nonchalantly. “Americans always go for the drama.”

  I grin because he’s right, and I certainly considered doing just that. But I’m a smart man. I’d like to think smarter than my baser instincts, even. So while I’ll have revenge, I’ll do it a way that most benefits me while cutting possible risks.

  “I have something a little different in mind.”

  That gets his attention. His voice is tight when he asks, “What?”

  “So as I see it, for ordering my father’s murder, your father needs to die. It’s as simple as that and exactly what you would do in my shoes.” I pause to let him disagree, but he says nothing, knowing I’m right. It’s the Russian mafia way. Eye for an eye, nothing more, nothing less.

  “I’m not an American cowboy, and this isn’t a Hollywood movie, so I’m not flying to Russia to exact my vengeance under cover of night. What I’m offering is an opportunity. A truce. I need him to die to pay. You need him to die so that you can truly rule. Do that, and we’ll be even, perhaps even able to do business in the future if the need arises.”

 

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