by Ella Miles
His words may be true, but are his intentions?
“You’re only helpful to me alive if you can help me figure out where my son is. Is that something you can do?”
“Yes, that’s all I want. I don’t want an innocent child hurt. I would never knowingly work for a man who would do that.”
“Killer,” I say, rubbing Langston’s arm, trying to calm him down. But the second my fingers graze his muscular bicep, I feel the zing of electricity. This time it isn’t attraction between us—it’s rage flowing freely off his skin.
“We are going to search him, find any bugs, any electronics he could be using to send back to Corbin. Then we are going to tie him up in our suite until we get all the information we can from him. Understood?” I ask Langston.
I’m not sure he heard me, but then Langston nods his head the slightest amount in agreement. I doubt he agrees with my plan. I’m sure he wants to kill Maxwell, but we have to keep him alive. We have no leads on Corbin. And he has a child hostage. I have no doubt that Atlas is my son, but Corbin is holding an innocent child thinking he’s mine. We have to do something to save the child and stop him from discovering Atlas. Maxwell is the only lead we have.
Langston digs some cash out of his wallet and throws it on the table.
“After you,” he says to Maxwell.
Maxwell and I both stand. Maxwell keeps his eyes on Langston. I turn my head back and forth between the two men, trying to get a read on either of them. They seem to be playing a silent game between themselves I don’t understand.
Without a word, we walk out of the bar. Maxwell in front, followed by Langston, and then me trailing them both.
Maxwell walks to the elevator banks and presses the up button, while Langston and I flank his either side. If he plans to run, we’ll stop him. I still have the gun I took from Langston’s car. I have no problem shooting this man.
The doors open, and we all step into the lift. Langston presses the fifth-floor button, waits for the elevator to rise, then presses the emergency stop button. Langston turns to Maxwell with his arms crossed as he stands in front of the door.
The corner of Maxwell’s mouth lifts, and then he starts pulling out his phone, gun, wallet, and watch. He flings each on the floor at Langston’s feet.
Maxwell raises his eyebrows. “Satisfied?”
“No, not until you’re dead.” Langston walks over to Maxwell and starts patting him down, looking for any other electronic device on him. When he’s finished, he walks back to his place in front of the doors.
“Does Corbin know where we are?” Langston asks.
Maxwell shakes his head. “I told him I was going to Patagonia and just had a layover for tonight in Peru.”
“I don’t have anything with me to scan you to see if you have a tracking device in your body, but if you are lying to us and still communicating with Corbin in any way, you’ll wish I killed you here on this elevator,” Langston growls.
Maxwell nods. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Suddenly, Maxwell seems smaller. Anyone else might see them as two alphas fighting for power over the situation. In reality, Langston is always the alpha, always in control.
Langston fists his hand and slams it over the emergency stop button. The elevator starts creeping up again until we reach our floor. This time Langston motions for me to step out first, so I do. I walk to our room and insert my key.
As soon as all three of us are in the room, Langston turns on Maxwell and attacks him viciously. A fist flies in Maxwell’s face before he can react, followed by a swift kick to his ankles, knocking him on the mahogany-colored carpet.
Langston is on top of him a second later, pulling Maxwell’s arms behind his back roughly.
“Get me something to tie him up with,” Langston says to me.
Just then, Phoenix exits one of the bedrooms in a robe while carrying a martini glass. Her eyes pop. “I thought I had to come up here because it wasn’t safe for me down there. But you all just brought the danger up anyway.”
I ignore Phoenix. I need to find something to tie up Maxwell with.
I start opening cabinets, digging through drawers trying to find something to use. I walk over to an end table, yank a phone cord out of the wall, and toss it to Langston.
Langston snatches the cord mid-air and then ties Maxwell’s wrist together so tightly I’m afraid that he’s going to amputate his wrists. He grabs Maxwell by the collar and forces him to his feet.
I feel concern for Maxwell. He’s protected me before, looked out for me, and if he’s telling the truth, he doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. I called him here for a reason. I just can’t figure out what that reason is yet, what my instincts were screaming at me to get Maxwell here for. Then Maxwell winks at me, and my concern vanishes.
Langston marches him through the suite to one of the bedrooms. He slams the door shut until it’s just me and Phoenix both standing awkwardly in the living room, staring at each other.
“So I take it he’s not on our side?” Phoenix asks.
I shrug. “We don’t know.”
Phoenix shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes Langston fall over his feet to do whatever you say.”
“He doesn’t do that.”
She scoffs. “He does. Because if what you are saying is true and that man isn’t on our side, then Langston would shoot him dead, not tie him up.”
The bedroom door opens, and Langston remerges. He stares me down, shooting daggers my way as he motions for me to come with him. He walks into the other bedroom. I follow.
As soon as I’m inside the room, Langston slams the door behind me before slamming me against the door, his hand at my neck as he squeezes.
“Tell me what the hell is going on right now, or I’m going to fuck it out of you.”
10
Langston
I’ve never been so furious with Liesel in my life, and that’s really saying something as I’m always angry with her. She brought the enemy with her. We ran, and she left a trail for the enemy to follow. He blew up my house, threatened my children, and she invited him here for drinks.
My hand grips her neck, while I try to decide between strangling her to death or fucking her. No, it’s not a decision—I want to fuck her to death.
Liesel’s lips part, and her tongue settles between her teeth. Her breath is slow and steady, unlike her raging pulse. She wants me to believe that she’s relaxed in my grip, but her heart says otherwise. She’s either scared shitless, turned on, or both.
“It was a hunch,” she whispers through her parted lips.
“What?”
“A hunch, that’s why I told Maxwell where we were. That’s why I told him to come here. My gut told me he’s the key to bringing Corbin down.”
“You’re a foolish woman.”
She licks her lips. “And you’re a wicked man.”
I move in close to her until my mouth is hovering over hers, but I’ll deny us both kisses. This isn’t about pleasure. This is about getting answers for my brain and wetness for my cock.
I grab her bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth and biting down hard.
She doesn’t wince. Her eyes bore into mine, enjoying the pain.
“Tell me why you made the horrible, fucking wrong decision to bring Maxwell here without talking to me first. Or I’m going to fuck you so hard my wife and the entire hotel will know you’re mine.”
“I don’t belong to anyone. I’m a loner. You can’t have a wife and have me.”
I grin. “Good, because soon I won’t have a wife. I’ll only have you.”
I tug on her bottom lip again until it’s swollen and red. “What was on that note?”
“Nothing.”
I grab her by the waist, spin her, and slam her back hard against the dresser. My hands snake down the sides of her body, and I watch delicious goosebumps pop up on her smooth skin.
“Why. Is. He. Here?”
“I told you�
��a hunch. Waylon’s brother sent the note, and I’ve always suspected Maxwell was pretending to be a little incompetent as a bodyguard. I sensed something deeper in Maxwell, something I don’t understand. So I lured him here, away from the kids. Now, we can get the information we need from him and then kill him.”
“Or we could just kill him.”
She shoves me hard in the chest, pushing me off her body.
I think she’s going to run away, but she surprises me. She sprints at me until I’m falling back on the bed. Her legs land on either side of my waist as she reaches for her gun and aims it at my heart.
“No, we can’t kill him—not yet. Not until he’s told us everything.”
She grinds her hips over mine, and my cock springs up against the zipper of my jeans, trying to get to her.
She wants to play—dirty and rough. She won’t back down and let me control her. She won’t let me use sex as a weapon. She’s willing to throw it right back at me.
“I won’t let you make me feel bad for wanting to fuck you. I’m not a nice woman, never have been. I’m thankful to Phoenix for raising my child. But if I fuck you, I won’t be the one cheating—you will be. If that’s how you want to repay the woman you owe everything to, then so be it. But I’m not going to let your threats get to me.”
My jaw ticks looking at the sexiest woman in the world straddling me with a gun in her hand like she’s completely in control. It’s adorable that she thinks that. My heart beats faster, though, because maybe she’s right. She’s more in control of this situation than I am.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Phoenix fucks who she wants, same as me. An open relationship is not cheating.”
“Oh, Phoenix is okay with you fucking me?”
“Yes.”
She shakes her head with a smug expression. “Now, who’s lying?”
I toss her off and roll onto her as I fling the gun out of her hand. She growls, and I pin her hands over her head, my hard body slamming into every part of her softness.
“Maxwell has to die,” I say.
“You don’t get to make that decision.”
“Just like you don’t get to make the decision to bring him here without consulting me first.”
I come down hard on her lips—getting a taste of her fiery sweetness before sudden pain overtakes me.
I roll off her after she knees me hard in the balls.
She moves to get off the bed, but I grab her shirt. It starts to tear as she reaches for the gun. I throw her back on the bed, ripping her shirt completely off of her.
She gasps when I stare at her bare stomach and kiss her skin above her belly button.
For a moment, she lets me touch her. She strokes my hair as I kiss her tenderly.
We won’t be fucking each other tonight, no matter how much we both need it—not with my wife in the next room. Neither of us is that cruel.
I won’t be fucking Liesel again until I convince Phoenix to divorce me. Even then, it’s a long shot. The only reason she fucked me before is because we thought we were going to die. Now, that time has passed.
Good thing in our world, the threat of death is just around the corner.
I inch up to kiss her breasts, when she slaps me across the cheek.
She grabs my shirt and rips it the same way I did, right down the fucking middle. Her nails dig into my skin next before her teeth bite and nip over my abs.
My eyes roll back in my head with each touch of her mouth against my skin. I shouldn’t moan—Phoenix will make me pay for all the sounds I’m making in here, thinking I’m fucking Liesel when I’m not. But dammit, I can’t control myself around Liesel.
“Huntress,” I warn when her lips lower to just above my pants.
She grins as she continues to kiss down my happy trail.
I grab her chin, lifting her up.
“Don’t fight fire with fire,” I say.
“Why not?”
“Because I can handle getting burned, but you can’t.”
“I’ve been burned before.”
“I know—but I can’t handle being the one who burns you.”
She gasps.
I make my move.
I flip her onto her back and sink my hand back beneath her panties, finding the sweet spot that controls her whimpers, cries, and moans. I rub my finger slowly over her clit, feeling her panties soaking around my fingers.
She’s silent at first, and then the first glorious whimper pushes through her luscious lips.
“Please, stop torturing me,” she whispers.
I stop.
Her hips buck, begging me to finish her.
My eyes darken. I need answers. I need her to come.
I lean down and kiss her slowly, torturously. It’s a real kiss that floods her body with emotions and drenches my hand with her precum.
“Talk to me, huntress. Tell me everything. Trust me with your soul and body.” Trust me with your heart.
She shakes her head. “Trust me.”
My fingers move again over her clit until she can’t talk. Her breath is heavy, more gasping than breathing.
A single tear drips down her cheek as I bring her closer to the edge of an orgasm. So close, in fact, that I feel the first ripple before I once again stop.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
I grit my teeth to keep from slamming my mouth over hers and fucking her senseless.
“But I do know that we can’t kill Maxwell, not yet. The child—”
“Isn’t yours. Atlas is your child. If you want a DNA test to be sure, we can do that.”
“No, I know Atlas is my son. I saw the similarity of our eyes.”
“So, Corbin is obviously lying. He doesn’t have your child. I have your child. He’s safe with Beckett.”
“But he has someone’s child.”
I still, looking at her closely. There have been moments when I’m not even sure she cares about her own child. For her to care about a stranger’s child isn’t like her.
“You’re confusing as hell, huntress.”
My fingers dance over her clit again.
Her eyes close as she feels me. She licks her lips and arches her back in ecstasy. One more touch and she’ll be screaming my name.
She grabs my wrist, though, stopping me.
“Go back to your wife, killer. You chose her. I’m just a whore you fucked because there was no one else around in the face of death.”
I frown. She couldn’t be more wrong, but I understand that I caused this mess. I chose Phoenix, and Liesel thinks I still hate her. She doesn’t know I’ve spent my entire life wanting her, dreaming of fucking her.
And now that I’ve had her, I can’t imagine fucking any other woman but her.
11
Liesel
Sleep was impossible.
Even though I had my own bedroom and a large queen-sized bed to myself, sleep never came. And neither did I.
After Langston suddenly left, I touched myself. I rubbed furiously while I tried to finish the job Langston started. No amount could bring me to orgasm, though. It’s like my body no longer knows how to work without Langston.
I get out of bed as soon as the sun starts rising. My clothes are ripped from Langston, so I walk to the small closet in the room and put on a hotel robe.
My fingers and body wreak of sex. My hair is a mangled mess, but the only way to get to the bathroom to try and tame my hair is to make my way through the common areas. Hopefully, Phoenix and Langston haven’t woken up yet. I don’t want Phoenix to think I fucked Langston last night. And I don’t want Langston to realize I still haven’t come.
I open my door carefully, and my eyes peek around the dark room. I don’t see anyone.
I creep out, tiptoeing across the room as to not wake anyone.
I make it halfway across the living room before the other bedroom door opens, and Phoenix and Langston stand in the doorway. Phoenix is wearing a robe just like mine. Her hair is bushy on her head, h
er cheeks warm and pink. Langston stands in nothing but his boxers behind her.
They look like a happy couple.
Phoenix smirks at me.
I know, you won. He’s yours. Take him, I don’t want him.
It’s all a lie. I’ve never wanted a man more than Langston. But even if Phoenix wasn’t in the picture, I could never really have him. I’m the huntress. I have to continue hunting. I’ve spent my whole life hunting for something that I’m not even sure can be found. And Langston, despite all his faults, is a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged down into my despair.
I cut my eyes away from them and dash into the bathroom. I can breathe again as soon as I shut the door. But I know the feeling is only temporary. I relieve myself and am trying to comb through my hair when there’s a knock at the door.
“Stop hogging the bathroom. Some of us need to pee, you know,” Phoenix says.
Stop being such a pussy, I tell myself before I slap a smile on my face and walk out of the bathroom, past a waiting Phoenix.
“It’s all yours,” I say.
She steps inside, leaving Langston and me alone.
“Huntress, it’s not—”
“You were with your wife last night. I understand. I’m going to make some coffee.”
He frowns but doesn’t try to explain himself. It’s obvious he slept in her room last night instead of the untouched couch. I don’t need to know any more details than that.
I refuse to feel jealous as I make the coffee in the small kitchenette area. But the banging I’m making betrays me.
Finally, I finish pouring four cups of coffee.
“Four? Really?” Langston asks.
“Yes, Maxwell gets a cup too.”
Langston rolls his eyes.
“Go get him, now.”
His lips thin into a single line. For a moment, I think he’s going to argue with me, but then he turns and disappears into the bedroom.
He reappears with Maxwell still tied up. He sits him down in one of the living room chairs and then grabs a knife from the kitchen to release his bindings before handing him a cup of coffee.