“Like hell I am. I’m not going to do a damn thing you want.” Levering her back and shoulders into the lounge, she lifted her legs and kicked out at him, thumping her heels into his torso. She met a rock-hard wall of muscle, which jolted her hips and up her spine, leaving her breathless. She needed him with a desperation that shocked her. How could he be so damn strong?
“Yeah, you are.” His top lip formed a sneer as if she were a stranger whom he had captured for the first time. He grabbed both knees, one in each hand, and parted her legs, pressing her knees down hard, so she was totally exposed. “This snatch belongs to me now.”
“That’s all you think I am? A receptacle to fuck?” She watched, the thrill of the game drying the spit in her throat while her clit throbbed.
“Yeah. You’re my living, breathing fuck toy.” He leaned over her, his chest crushing hers so that she became aware of his power. Using his hand to cup her chin, he pressed his thumb and middle finger into the joints at her jaw, so that her mouth opened. He kissed her hard, every bit of caring and compassion gone. It was all about raw masculine domination.
She didn’t attempt to meet his kiss, too lost in who this stranger was and how far he would go. Nerves fluttered in her stomach, and then his lips softened, grazing over hers as if he felt she wasn’t with him for that millisecond. Somewhere in the rough game, Hugo was still there.
Entranced, she fell into her role again and struggled, trying to bite his lips. Kicked her heels into the back of his thighs.
“Keep wiggling like that and I’ll come all over you before I fuck you.”
“You think you can mark me, you filthy animal?”
“I’m going to do more than that. I’m going to put my scent in you and on you, and spread it all over your body, so that if any biker dogs come after you, you’re going to fucking stink of me.”
“You won’t make me into your whore.” Deep inside the thrill of his protection opened her heart.
“Watch me.”
He bit her nipples, and the combination of pleasure and pain made her squirm. Instantly, he followed up by lathing them, soothing the burn. His hands pressed hard on her hips, and he shifted down her body until he settled over her sex. “Mine,” he growled, before he licked from the base of her sex right up her seam.
Her hips jackknifed off the lounge, and even as the tiny ounce of sanity left inside her protested against his commands, her raw lust for him won over. This man took sex to new heights.
He thrust his tongue into her opening, and she moaned, a deep primeval sound. He moved his tongue in a swooping motion starting from her base, laving along her outer pussy lips and back into the center of her, plunging in deep, rising along her seam, up to her clit, before starting again.
She was on fire.
If he stopped, she would beg for more. She would utterly debase herself. Anything. So long as he didn’t stop.
She rolled her hips, thrusting and moaning, wishing her hands were free so she could clutch at his hair. His possession of her was an ownership. His tongue oscillated over her clitoris, teasing and stroking as her back arched and her knees jerked.
Raw, hot desire thrummed in every part of her until finally she exploded. She screamed and thrust up into his mouth, hovering on the precipice of his command before finally collapsing, too dazed to even focus on him.
He pulled off her, his lips shiny and wet from her come. “Sit up.”
“I can’t,” she gasped.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet so that her head jerked back. With her hands tied behind her, she stumbled. “Where are you taking me?”
“I’m gonna put you on your dining table and fuck you from behind. You’ll be good and wet now.”
“No, please. No. No.” Yes. Yes. Yes.
“I’m going to split you.” He pushed her down onto her wooden dining table. He peeled his cock out of his boxers. It was big, hard, and thick.
“No. You can’t. It’s huge. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.” The game intensified. Turned on, thrilled, and scared at the same time as he stared down at her, his chest and throat flushed.
“You’re going to take my cock. Mine. No fucking deadbeat biker is ever going to have you.” He pulled out a condom from a small insert pocket inside his boxers, ripped it open, and slid it on. He positioned himself behind her and spread her legs wide, running his cock around the rim of her sex.
She waited as his huge hands grasped her thighs, his thumbs imprinting on the delicate inside skin, the tension unbearable. Despite her playacting, she wanted him with a desperate need that astonished her.
He plunged into her. Her whole body jolted on the table, her damp cheek sliding on the wood.
She moaned, and her sex throbbed with each thrust as he drove into her deep. She could smell his musk, his sweat. Her own skin was slick with the New Orleans heat, and she slid up and down on the table, Hugo drawing her back to him each time.
He grunted with each shove, until he made a tight noise in the back of his throat, and she knew he was close. He pulled out, ripped off the condom, and ejaculated on her lower back.
Once over, he untied her hands so she could shift herself into a sitting position on the table. Her whole body still pulsed, and her head spun. She had never experienced anything like this before. The depth of his possession. His change from the man to the animal and back again as the cruelty left his expression.
He tenderly put his arm around her shoulder. “You okay?”
“More than okay.” Stunned, both at herself and at him, because if anyone had said she’d be playacting a rape fantasy with a man she’d only known a few days, she would have laughed in their face. Not now. Not with him.
He’d changed her. What she thought about men. What she thought about him. What she thought about sex.
How would she ever go back?
Chapter Seventeen
Treachery was hard work. The next morning Hugo made breakfast for Alice, wanting to wake her before he went out. He popped the coffee pod into the machine, pressed the button, and strode to the bedroom just so he could see her awakening. Hell, he wasn’t a sentimental guy, but he wanted to keep this picture of her in his mind forever.
Asleep, with her long blond hair strewn across the pillow, she looked like a fairy-tale princess. He looked forward to seeing the intense blue of her eyes and her sweet smile.
She stretched, her arms rising up above her head and her back arching. She opened her eyes, meeting his. “How long have you been there watching me?”
“Just a moment. I’ve made breakfast.”
“Are we having it in bed?”
He grinned at her. “I’ve turned you into a monster.” She was so beautiful. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her scent, the way she felt when he took her. She got him, and she didn’t make him feel like a freak.
“True. I rarely thought about sex until you came along.” She flipped back the sheet, lay on her side, and patted the bed.
Oh man, how was he going to let her go? “Don’t tempt me, Sleeping Beauty. I have to go out. I have an appointment with a cop at lunchtime who knows about your mother’s case.”
“What? That was fast. How on earth did you manage that?” She sat up with alacrity, pushing her hair from her face.
“Get washed up, come and have breakfast, and I’ll explain.” He left her and strode back to the kitchen, trying to ignore his hard-on.
“Ooh, I could get used to having you here, looking after me. It’s such a treat,” she called out. A few minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom, still wearing her nightgown, and up to the small dining table.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He pulled her chair out for her, trying to ignore the enticing swell of her breasts. If he just slid his hand down, cupped one, and teased the nipple, he knew the move would be welcomed. How he wanted to.
Get a grip. He had a mission to accomplish. In the early hours of the morning while Alice slept, he’d informed Troy that he’d planted the b
ug. The Slayers could track and listen to Glass. Do their own dirty work. He was free to leave.
While he tried to stop guilt leaching like acid through his bloodstream.
He placed the coffee with milk and one sugar, the way she liked it, in front of her, along with two slices of toast lusciously spread with apricot jam.
She beamed at him, picked up the mug of coffee, and sipped.
He slid into a seat next to her, forcing himself to focus. “When you were asleep last night, I sent out some messages to my network concerning your mother.”
She snapped out of her cheery look fast. “I hope you get better help than I did. The officer handling the case said he didn’t have any leads,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. “Sure, he dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s, but I knew his heart wasn’t in it. I tried going higher. The police chief was an asshole.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to talk to anyone high up. Someone on the ground with his head screwed on, who can give me answers, that’s what I need. I hope this contact is the one.”
She swallowed as misery crossed her face. “Don’t expect to shift mountains mentioning my name.”
He drank the last of his coffee as she ate. “I’ll be using mine. It should open doors.”
“Boudreaux,” Alice said, clearly puzzled. She picked up her cell, and he sat watching over her shoulder as she punched in his surname along with Baton Rouge. She placed the phone between them on the table. A list of people with his surname came up. Her eyes widened. “There’s a governor here.”
She’d once told him he was peeling her like an onion and she didn’t like it. It went both ways. He watched, and the knife cut deep. The problem was he’d armed her, by allowing her to see where and what he came from.
She’d hate him forever soon. He blinked. Peeling damned onions hurt the eye. “The governor’s my grandfather. He had eight sons. Some went into business. The others went into the military.”
She kept reading, scanning down the names and clicking on the links. “Oh my God, but this is an illustrious family.” She looked him up and down as if reassessing what she saw. “There are a lot of important people here. Judges, CEOs, lots of military. Are they all your relatives?”
“Yeah. It’s a high-achieving family, full of bullheaded men who expect to get their own way.” With his father, the wife-bashing prick, at the top of this generation.
Alice laughed. “Really? That’s a Boudreaux tendency, huh? I never would have guessed. Which one is your father?”
“The general.” He pointed to his father’s name on the cell phone. His stomach roiled with hatred. “He was the eldest son, and he’s done well.”
“A general? That’s amazing.” She clicked on the link, and a photo of a tall man in an army uniform appeared, his face stern, staring straight at the camera. “I’m surprised you’re not staying in the military. You could have a fantastic career there, coming from a connected family like this.” She looked him up and down. “Gosh, you’re a chip off the old proverbial block.”
“Like hell I am.” His whole body tightened, and his fists clenched.
“Oh, Hugo, I’ve upset you.” Her blue eyes filled with concern. “You know I didn’t say that to hurt you.” She reached out and stroked his arm as if soothing a growling dog. Funny thing was, it worked.
He sat back in his seat, his hackles settling. “Any similarities stop at the looks.”
She shifted her chair closer so that their legs were touching and took both his hands in hers. “You don’t like him?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” He stood, forcing her to release him, took her empty plate from her, marched into the kitchen, and stacked it in the dishwasher. “The point is I have a lot of contacts, both family and through the forces. Today I need one of them to pay off. A soldier I worked with, and a cousin, both suggested talking to this cop. They say he’s a good guy.”
She drained her coffee, clunked her mug onto the table. She gazed at him, her eyes shining. “It would mean everything to me if we can get to the bottom of who hurt Momma.”
He returned, swooped down, and kissed her lips. She tasted sweet. “Your problems are my problems.”
Immediately, she wound her arms around the back of his neck, drawing him closer. “I know I’m not supposed to say this, given this is a short-term fling, but I’m starting to care about you,” she said.
“Yeah. Me, too.” He straightened, breaking away from her. It wasn’t right to let her fall for him. He’d sure miss her when he left, and he’d deserve every damn ounce of regret.
She turned back to study the data on the cell phone. “This is a very respectable family you come from. You’re nothing like I thought you were.” She put her hand to her mouth and turned to him. “Oh, that sounds horrible. I mean I know you’re reliable, but I didn’t realize you came from such an established family.”
“It’s not something I talk about.” He picked up her coffee mug, walked back into the kitchen, poured the remains in the sink, and put it in the dishwasher.
“You don’t talk much about yourself. I guess I’ve spent so much time whining about my father and the brothers, you never had a chance.”
“I’m not a good talker. Not about my father. But if I have to use his name to open doors, I will. You deserve to live without having to look over your shoulder. I’ll get answers for you.” He strode back to his bedroom and picked up his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
Alice stood. “Wait a minute. You’re going without me?”
“I want to scope out the area where the incident happened. Plus, I’ll get better information from the cop if you’re not there. You yourself said the name Kaintuck closes doors.”
Her face fell, and a knife twisted in his heart. He didn’t want this to be over. He wasn’t ready. They hadn’t done enough together. Hadn’t had enough fun. “Tell you what, why don’t we go for a walk? Show me your favorite place.” He looked at his watch. “I have an hour or so up my sleeve.”
She brightened at his words, and he immediately felt relief as if her smile were connected to his heart.
“Wait a minute, we can’t go yet. I have to call Daddy. I need to get his blessing for our…relationship.”
He flinched. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alice. You’re an adult.”
“Technically you’re Daddy’s employee. He has rules. The brothers know no one is to touch me. Now that Mad Dog spilled the beans, I have to raise this with Daddy.”
“I’m not afraid of them. You shouldn’t have to ask your father if you want to have sex.”
She gripped his arm. “You’re not impervious to bullets, either. You need to understand, if anything happens to you because of me, I couldn’t live with myself. I’m like some prize for the single men in the club. If I’m an ol’ lady to one of them, they’ll get a shot at the presidency. I’m not proud of it, but a lot of money gets channeled through that club.” She reached up and put her hands on either side of his face. “These men have no compunction when it comes to killing.”
He bristled, pissed off that she was scared of men he could take out with his little finger. “I can take any of those pricks out.”
“Of course, you can. You were a soldier. But you have to understand, I don’t want you hurt because of me. I can’t take any more pain. You’re precious to me.”
He swallowed. Her heartfelt concern was like being punched in the gut. “Okay. Go ahead, if it makes you happy.”
She speed-dialed her father, getting him straight away. “Daddy? I want to talk about Hugo.”
He watched as she turned her back on him and walked into the kitchen. From the way she hunched over and her serious tone, he could tell Daddy wasn’t happy. The asswipe. He’d like to ram his fist into the controlling prick’s face. Instead, he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms as he listened to her patiently explaining how he had a police contact who could help them.
Finally, she ended the cal
l. “You have his blessing.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he said it like that.”
“Not quite.” She came forward and flung her arms around his shoulders, standing on her tippy toes to kiss him full on the lips. “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how you putting yourself out for me means so much. No one’s ever bothered to help me like you.”
He pulled her arms from him and held her hands. “Thank me when I have answers.” Guilt stabbed him deep. Uncomfortable, he shifted on his feet. “Have you worked out where you want to walk?”
Her face lit up, and she beamed at him. “Sure have. There’s a wonderful sculpture garden close to here. Let me get some clothes on.”
“Sculpture?” What the fuck? He watched as she almost skipped into her bedroom and rustled around. A few minutes later she came out wearing a strappy pink sundress that finished above her knees and silver sandals. She carried a cane handbag over her shoulder, into which she put two bottles of water and her purse.
“Hey, you said it was my choice,” she said, perhaps at the expression on his face. “There’s something about this park that gives me a sense of peace.”
“We can all use that.”
Ten minutes later they strolled along an earth pathway in the park, amongst the verdant trees, which sheltered them from the morning sun. They stopped to observe the large bronze sculptures of male and female figures, so anatomically accurate that even he, who’d never had time for art, appreciated the masterful work.
She turned to him, eyes shining. “It’s lovely here, isn’t it? So quiet. I often come here when I’m in turmoil over my parents or when we lose a baby at work.”
He put his arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “It’s beautiful here. Beats knocking back beer in an illegal desert bar with ten burping soldiers.”
“That the best cultural comparison you can come up with?” She raised both eyebrows.
“Pretty much. That’s what guys do when they get together after an incident. Lucky I met you.” They strolled past a complicated sculpture of a crouching man. On the crouching man’s shoulders squatted another man and so on until there was a column of figures that rose high up into the sky.
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