by J. J. McAvoy
Grabbing onto my gun, I turned and shot one right between his eyes just as Liam dropped onto the shoulders of another. There were screams and curses in Russian as Liam dove right beside me.
“Come here often?” he said, chuckling as adrenaline clearly pumped through his veins. I supposed he was no longer seeing me as a china doll in that moment, but as another person on his side. Finally, the dipshit.
“Not really.” I tried not to smirk back as more Russians came shooting at us. “The hospitality here is fucking shit.”
“You should write a strongly worded letter.”
Rolling my eyes, I turned and shot a man on the top deck in the kneecap. “This is more eco-friendly. Save the trees, and all that shit.”
He grinned and then shot the man now screaming in pain in the head. “I was never good at recycling.”
Two more men came forward, one right behind Liam, and another behind me. We both raised our hands as they yell at us.
“Kto vy? Vy lokhi!”9 they shouted at us.
Liam smiled at me—he truly smiled for once—obviously enjoying this. “Ya, Liam Kallahan. Eto moy zhenikh, vy tozhe mertv.”10
Just as the man finished, bullets went into the side of their heads, courtesy of Antonio and Neal, before the helicopter spun out of view once again. A second later, Liam’s phone rang and he placed it on speaker.
“They are four miles away and will be there shortly,” Declan said. Liam said nothing before hanging up as I reached down to grab their guns.
“Yarygin or Stechkin Pistol?” I asked him, causing him to frown.
“The Russians can’t make guns for shit,” he said in disgust, and he had a point.
Smiling, we began to throw the few bodies overboard as we waited for our friends. It only took a second, and by that time, we had thrown the overweight, drunken Russians off.
The boat was silent except for another crew as they made their ways back on deck. They stumbled and laughed liked fools.
“Vse chertovski narkotiki ushli. Chert by pobral etikh vlagalishcha v ad. Valero sobirayetsya ubit’ nas.”11
One of the men asked where their brothers where Liam was already on his feet.
“Dead.” Liam said as he shot one right in the nose and I shot the other in the eye. He screamed in pain as I walked over, patting him down for the mini-equipment. Once I had it, I shot him once more for the heck of it.
“I’ll call the guys,” I said, handing it to Liam, but once I turned around, I found myself looking down the barrel of a gun. It was the man whom Liam landed on, and he had his gun pointed right at me. Liam pulled me out of the way and shot the fucker in the face, but not before taking one in the arm.
“Fuck it all to hell,” he said, pulling back his wounded limb.
He must have left his guardian angel at home.
“Jinx, head in, we’ll meet you onshore. We’re fine . . . for the most part,” I said before hanging up and grabbing his arm.
He pulled away. “I’m fine, just wish I didn’t kill the fucker so I could torture him.”
“You have a bullet in your arm.” I glared at him. “A Russian bullet, which you, yourself said was shit. I am going to take it out.”
“I said I was fucking fine, Melody!”
Angry, I holstered my weapon before I shot him in the other arm, and grabbed on to his wounded arm again, causing him to hiss out in pain.
“You are not fine.” I pressed down harder. “Now stop bitching and let me fix it, you asshole.”
I didn’t allow him to speak before pulling him inside the cabin and pushing him onto the nearest bed. They must have been ready to eat because alcohol and an array of meat, bread, and apples awaited them. Getting a napkin and a knife, I poured the alcohol over it and his wound before giving him the rest to drink. Hopefully, the liquor would keep him quiet.
He smirked at me before taking the bottle to his lips. “I think I like you as a nurse.”
Glaring at him, I dug the knife into his bullet wound. “You really shouldn’t say stupid things to a woman with weapons.”
He hissed and roared in pain like a fucking baby until I got the bullet out and used the napkin as a bandage.
“Drink and shut up, I’ll be right back,” I said to him before going back on deck.
I made sure to drag and throw the bodies off the boat before setting course back to the mainland. I also called Monte to let him and Liam’s brothers know what happened. It took me about an hour and a half. By the time I went back to Liam, he was frozen on the bed, listening to the audio from the plane he had destroyed.
All either of us could hear were screams, crying, and prayers. They brought back memories I would rather forget. Walking over, I pushed stop and he, was pulled out of his trance.
“I thought you were going to set the boat on autopilot,” he said, proving just how out of it he was.
Grabbing another napkin, I took the old blood-soaked one off and redid the bandage.
“Do not take a bullet for me again.”
He snorted before pulling away. “No good deed goes unpunished. The correct words you are looking for are ‘thank you.’ ”
I pulled tighter, and he winced, the baby. “Thank you, but don’t do it again. The last thing I need is for any of my men to think I can’t handle myself.”
“You are so fucking ridiculous. Why must you always try to prove that you’re a cold-hearted bitch?”
“Because a cold-hearted bitch is what I need to be,” I snapped back, rising in front of him. “You can fuck up as many times you want, but at the end of the day, no one will doubt you. I, on the other hand, make one mistake and it’s over. Some cocky asshole like you will come over and claim I’m too soft, or that I don’t have the balls. I’ve worked too hard to backtrack now.”
He said nothing. He knew I was right. I didn’t have time to waste, proving and reproving who I was.
“And in a way, they would be right, because I should have blown that plane up myself,” I confessed, grabbing the wine from the table and leaning against it. “If I had, I would get the credit—”
“You want credit?” He eyed me up and down, his green eyes picking up only the dimmest light of the cabin we now shared. “You want credit for the mass murder I committed.”
“Don’t say it like that. We are not serial killers. We do not kill for the fun of it or chaos. It is just business. Every last person we kill is for family. If we do not kill them, they kill us. It is the way of the world. It is self-defense. It is survival. If it were your life for theirs, they would kill you in a second to save themselves or their family. Everyone is ruthless. They just don’t know it. You do. I do. And that is why we are on top and will remain so.”
“And you feel nothing.”
“And I feel nothing,” I repeated.
He looked me in the eyes, and I hoped to God he understood, because I didn’t know how else to explain it. It was that kind of thinking that made it easy for me to sleep at night.
“Neither do I,” he said, and I believed him.
I tried to move, but he grabbed on to my sides and held me in place. There was that look in his eyes—the hunger, the lust, and the caged animal dying to get out. Pulling me even closer, he pressed himself against me.
“L—” His lips were on mine and he was pulling at my clothes. With his one good arm, he cupped my ass and the other one cupped my breast as he rubbed himself against me. His lips hummed against my neck before he lifted me up, throwing me on the bed.
He stopped for only a second to look me over, and the storm in his eyes raged worse than I had ever seen. “This is your one and only chance to tell me to stop.”
TEN
“It takes two to make a murder.
There are born victims,
born to have their throats cut,
as the cut-throats are born to be hanged.”
~ Aldous Huxley
LIAM
She leered, and I could see the lust growing in her eyes until it reflected my o
wn.
“You better not rip my clothes.” Her brown eyes narrowed at me and with that, every chain, lock, and bolt in my mind broke loose.
I grabbed her by the ankle and spread her legs until she was no less than an inch from me taking her. I could feel her become wet just from the sheer closeness of our bodies. Brushing my hand on the side of her face, then against her lips, I grabbed on to her hair and pulled it back, allowing me to latch on to her neck. Neither of us needed to speak. We knew what we wanted, and there were not enough words in the human language that could express what my tongue physically could, as I bit, licked, and sucked on her neck. I felt like a fucking animal, but I could not stop myself, and by God’s name, when she unzipped my vest and rubbed her cool hands all over my torso, I became ravenous.
Pushing her back, I pulled off her top as quickly as possible, trying my best to do as she asked and not rip the damn thing off her. However, it didn’t work, and I heard a small tear before the top was in shreds.
“Damn it, Liam!” she yelled at me, and I stopped, pushing up to stare into her deep, dark eyes, my breath on her lips.
“Say it again,” I muttered as I grabbed her breast through her bra. I would have preferred a laced one instead of a sports bra, but a breast was a fucking breast.
“Say what?”
Leaning in, I kissed her lips quickly before biting her bottom one. I then kissed her cheek, before I finally got to her ear and nibbled the lobe. I was losing my mind, I could feel it, all I wanted to do was devour each and every fucking part of her.
“My name,” I whispered in her ear, and she shivered with pleasure. “Say my name again. Not in anger, or disgust, but as you did just now. As if I am the only man in the world who can satisfy you.”
Because I was. I kissed down her neck once more. However, she grabbed me by the hair and brought me back to eye level. She said not a word, just gazing up at me for a moment, before kissing me almost desperately. For once, she fucking kissed me first, and I couldn’t help but think it was better than fucking heaven, until she flipped me onto my back.
She straddled my waist and stared down at me before pulling her bra off. She kissed up my chest slowly, grinding herself against my cock as it begged for release. When she reached my neck, my hands went straight to her hair and hers went to my pants. Thank fucking Christ.
Flipping her over, I pinned her hands above her head and stared down at what was now mine. Her cheeks were flushed, her nipples erect, and I bent down to suck on them, as if they were begging me to do so. She moaned loudly as she tried to wriggle her hands free.
“Liam,” said, arching toward me.
“Again,” I demanded as I moved to the next one, my tongue circling around her areola, not sucking on her nipple until she did as I said. But my girl never just gave in to me. Transferring both her hands to my right one, my left traveled into her pants, not stopping until it reached its target. I could feel her, and that eclipsed the pain from my arm. She was dripping from me. The moment I cupped her, my girl’s back rose off the fucking bed.
“You fucking bastard.” She moaned, trying to rub her legs together and force friction that I would not let her have.
“Again,” I demanded once more, my lips traveling from her breast down to her waist slowly. I kissed every part of her, as I barely rubbed her wet pussy. She wanted more, and so did I, but she had do what I wanted.
But, once again, my girl wanted to make my life as difficult as possible, leaving me no other choice but to release my hold on her hands so I could pull her pants off completely. The moment my eyes saw the spring of honey begging for my tongue, I latched on, sucking and lapping up all the juices she had provided for me.
She gasped, gripping on to my hair as she rubbed herself against my face. “Liam.”
I pulled away, only for a moment. “Again.”
She refused and so my finger found its way into her, and she gasped out in ecstasy. In and out, as fast and as deep as possible, I pounded my fingers into her as she ground onto my hand, wanting the satisfaction only my cock would give, but trying her best to make do with the three fingers I had inside her. Just as she was reaching her climax, I stopped. Her eyes narrowed at me as she breathed deeply.
“You fucker.”
“Not yet,” I whispered, stepping back to release my cock from the confines of my pants. She stared at it, and I let her, just for a moment, before pulling her back to me. Before she even had time to think, I thrust deeply within her. Her back arched, as she shouted in Italian.
I pulled her even closer to me and went even deeper still, if such a thing could be possible. Wincing at how slowly I moved, I watched her tremble as my cock filled her.
“Say my name,” I told her, almost stopping altogether as my cock throbbed. I was hoping and praying she would give in so I could have my way with her.
She didn’t, so I thrust forward quickly. “Melody, for the love of God, just say my name.”
Instead, she slipped slightly away from me before wrapping her arms around my neck. “Mel, just Mel,” she panted.
Holding on to her waist, I eased back slowly before thrusting again. “Say it, Mel.”
She kissed up my neck, then my ear before stopping at my lips, staring me deeply in the eyes. Hers were so dark I could see myself in them. Her breath was almost on my tongue, and I just needed to hear it.
“Liam,” she hissed and kissed me deeply.
My name was the key to opening the deepest levels of possession possible. I pushed her onto her back, causing both of us to cry out and hiss as my cock slammed into her over and over again. She moved in rhythm with me, every thrust, not missing a beat. She cried out my name over and over again.
Grabbing her breast, I fucked her deeper, not even stopping when she screamed out her release . . . I wasn’t even close to finished, she would come at least once more before I released in her.
Pulling out of her, we both cried out in protest until I flipped her over and took her, holding her waist and shoulder as I forced myself deeper.
“Fuck, Liam! Harder,” she begged. “Faster.”
And at both wishes, I complied, until I couldn’t hold myself back anymore, just as she couldn’t, and we came together.
“Mo Mel álainn.”12 I gasped before pulling out of her and falling onto the bed.
Flipping onto her back, she tried to control her breathing before speaking. “You can only call me Mel during sex.”
“Why is that?” I raised my eyebrow at her.
“You haven’t earned it.”
I couldn’t have this. After what had just happened between us, everything had changed, whether she knew it or not, and it started with me. Grabbing on to her, I rolled over her, allowing her space so my weight would do no harm. She looked at me surprised, but said nothing.
“What happened tonight will be repeated,” I told her calmly, still trying to catch my breath. “You are mine, as I am yours. But for this to work, you need to stop seeing me as a goddamned enemy and more like your husband.”
Her eyes narrowed. “My husband you say? So I’m supposed to sit back polish your shoes and make dinner in between fucks?”
“Mel,” I replied, moving down until I was at her entrance again. “I get it,” I said to her before I thrust forward and buried myself into the tight place that was quickly becoming my new home.
“Do you?” she hissed, trying to stay focused as I inserted myself deeper.
“Yes,” I whispered going for her neck again.
“You are not a housewife,” I said, pulling out only to slam myself in again.
“You do not want to be my arm candy.” Slam, she reached up for my hair.
“You are a cold-blooded murderer.” Slam, she moaned as sweat dripped from my chin onto her chest.
“You are a Boss.” Slam.
“You are my evolution.” Slam, this time, she grabbed on to my ass, trying to pull me closer.
“I’m willing to try to disregard my chauvinistic ways.” Sl
am.
“To treat you as an equal, but you must fucking do the same for me, Mel.” And with that, I thrust into her repeatedly, her body molded with mine, her breasts pushed against my chest. She was so fucking tight I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
Her nails dug into my back and her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to her. Her hands weaved into mine as we entangled ourselves, rising to the highest of climaxes and crashing together.
Gasping for breath, I held her tightly, my arms wrapped around her while I used her breast as a pillow. We were both silent, allowing our breathing to fill the cabin, and neither of us let go of the other.
“You see me as Boss?”
“Yes, and it annoys me, because I want that title,” I replied honestly, causing her to pull my hair.
“No matter how many times we fuck Callahan, I will never just bow down to you. I will never let you rule me. I will not be your bitch to screw and command. I don’t think you can handle that.”
Maybe it was the sex talking, or maybe my father’s words were finally beginning to sink in and I was starting to see a new way of getting what I wanted. All of what I wanted.
Rolling off her, I looked up at the wooden ceiling, not speaking for a moment as I gathered my thoughts.
“In many ways, I can’t,” I told her. “In my mind, there will always be a chauvinist, but I will fight it. You and I both know that once we’re married our companies will be one. Which means there will be only one head, for a divided house cannot stand.”
“Thank you, Abraham Lincoln. But I am not giving up my claim as Boss,” she replied, and I knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t “bow” to me. The only way for this to work other than the one thing I hated to do most—share.
It was so simple. It made logical sense, but I was a greedy motherfucker, and in many ways, so was she. We were too fucking alike.
“There is one head. But also a brain within it. Everything we choose for the company will be thought of together in our bed and then we bring it to the men. We rule as one together.”