by Raven Scott
Dark eyes snapped to mine, his wide pupils flickering down to my neck where I’d no doubt been bruised by him last night, and his thighs quivered beneath me. “You’re so beautiful.” Darren’s voice cracked sharply enough to make me wince as he shuddered a wheeze of a breath from around his fist. “Fuck ”
Before I could open my mouth to question him, Darren grabbed my biceps to roll over and pin me beneath him. The movement was too fast, and I gasped before he kissed me with everything he was. Everything all the desperation, the desire, of this moment, but mixed in equal measures were all the terrible emotions that just now slammed into him. He poured his passion and his humility into this kiss. His love for me and his anger at himself slathered his tongue as it wrapped around mine.
Grinding his cock between my folds, Darren didn’t shove himself inside me even as he propped himself on his elbows on either side of my head. His whole body bore down on me, trapping me underneath him.
I picked up my knees in silent acceptance. The taste of him pooled at the back of my throat, but all Darren did was thrust against my pussy. The thick ridge of his head flicked my clit with each pass, but he didn’t pull back far enough to even accidentally slip inside me.
Hot, heavy seconds melded together as Darren kissed me hard, and I gasped for air when he pulled back to hoist himself up. Powerful, familiar hands wrapped around my neck and squeezed, and tears instantly sprung to my eyes as my face grew hot. His image above me blurred, but my eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure when the friction between my legs almost became too much.
What little blood could get past his vice grip drummed in my ears slowly, exaggeratedly, and Darren’s leg hairs rubbed my thighs raw. He pulled back too far and a wheezing moan escaped me when the head of his cock stretched my pussy. Whether it was a mistake or on purpose didn’t matter. I scrunched up my face and clenched my jaw as wave after wave of euphoria sloshed violently up my torso.
Strained grunting and gasps were muffled by the screaming of my lungs for fresh air, but that only made the pleasure more intense. My pussy undulated wildly, sending spasms down my legs and curling my toes as I trembled. With a suddenness, Darren released my neck, and colorful spots assaulted my vision. The rush of air and blood seared my brain with white-hot ecstasy, and the hairs on the backs of his fingers brushed my clit with each furious pump of his cock.
Darren’s cum dribbled down between my ass cheeks, as I gasped and wheezed for air until the heat in my face died down. I could feel Darren staring down at me, but even his furious panting couldn’t rise above the blood roaring in my ears. When I managed to crack open my eyes, he wore such an odd expression that my frazzled brain couldn’t comprehend it. “What?” Croaking harshly, my throat burned, but it wasn’t painful and didn’t snap Darren out of his daze.
He just continued to stare at my face from under furrowed brows, his lips straight but not thin. Gingerly reaching to grip my neck with both his palms, he rubbed my pulse points with his thumbs.
Pressing his forehead against mine seemed to suck the tension from my body. Lounging in this afterglow I’d never experienced before, I closed my eyes and sunk deep into the mattress.
11
Darren
‘I appreciate that you’re asking me out on a date...but it’s like your groveling, and I don’t like it.’ Delilah’s words circled behind my eyes as I frowned out the window of her car. These past few days had been a whirlwind of bliss, but that observation never strayed far from the center of my thoughts.
“So...did Carlyle tell you what he expects you to do at these meetings?”
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I tore my gaze off the landscape to watch Delilah tap the wheel anxiously.
“It’s not like you can keep selling arms and stuff like you did, right?”
“It’s not like I can, no. I don’t think I’ll be doing anything but assuring my clients that Santino is good people. As if anyone doesn’t already do business with the Syndicate.” Reaching over to cover her hand with mine, I cracked a smile to try to soothe the stress lines around her mouth. “Carlyle is a better man to work for than Aleksander. He’ll keep his word to involve me as little as possible.”
“I hope so.” Delilah’s hands were so soft, and she gnawed on her lower lip diligently as we headed to Carlyle’s private air strip.
These past few days were a whirlwind of content that I barely remembered and I hoped beyond hope that it stayed this way. Oh, what a stupid thing to hope for.
“I just want you to know, Darren, that I’m not delusional or anything. I know you’re gonna have to do something sometimes to make him happy.”
“Your expectations were never too high, baby. You have every right to tell me I’m a piece of shit.” My chest tightened at how guilty she looked and I sat back in my seat to prop my elbow on the window to thumb my jaw and chin. “So, you don’t want to be a teacher. You don’t want to be a model. What do you want to do with your life?”
Across the center console, she went quiet. The discomfort twisting her beautiful features faded.
I pursed my lips thinly. Now that I was here, I noticed things about her that I never had before. When she was thinking hard, Delilah knocked her knees together. When she was sad, her already terrible sinuses clogged up to make her hiccup softly.
When Delilah ate something she found particularly delicious, she would hum softly with each bite.
“...I never wanted to do anything, I guess. I just want to float through life, being happy...with you.” Blushing at her own confession, Delilah smiled slightly, and my own widened as she leaned over the wheel. “I’ve done enough to know I don’t wanna do anything if I don’t have to. My whole life, I was told to do something I didn’t wanna do, so I think being a lazy good for nothing...I mean, at least, it’ll be an experience.”
“You— ” Delilah’s phone trilled from its position anchored on the dash, cutting me off, and I reached for it absently. Surprise rose my brows, and my mouth dried as I licked my lips through my frown. “It’s your mom. Why is she calling you after so long?”
“Oh-h...Yeah. About that...I may have left a really cringy voicemail the day before you got back...”
My cheek twitched when she winced at herself and I inhaled deeply. Her phone Felt heavy in my hand.
Flipping her head back with a sharp huff, she said, “Just answer it and say she has the wrong phone number.”
“You’re not going to talk to her?” We had to be on the tarmac by a certain time, so I didn’t question Delilah when she shook her head firmly. Swiping the answer button flashing on the screen, I held my breath as I turned to the window. “Hello?”
“...Hello? Who is this? Is Delilah there?”
Confusion bristled the hairs on my face, and I cast Delilah a weary glance.
She studiously glared at the road, her face pinching when she gulped nervously.
“No, she’s not. You have the wrong number.” I wasn’t sure what I expected from Delilah’s mother. Everything I’d heard about her made her out to be controlling and dismissive of her kids. Over the line, her breath hitched, and I went to hang up only to pause when she made this dejected sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob.
The car swerved a little and Delilah sucked in a sharp breath of surprise as I gazed at the blackened screen from under furrowed brows.
“I just miss her—I just want to say ‘sorry’. I know I messed up.” Delilah’s mother’s voice morphed into blubbering cries after that.
I slowly hung up with a tap of my thumb. The silence was deafening. What could I say, if anything? At least Delilah had a whole 6-hour flight to come to terms with the fact that her mom probably, sincerely, wanted to make amends. Setting her phone back on the holster suctioned to the dash, I sat back myself to crack open the window.
The atmosphere became suffocating, even with the air flow and I tapped my cheek thoughtfully. How perfectly timed that we were heading to Portland, where her parents lived, and Delilah’s mother just s
o happened to call on the way to the airstrip. But at the same time, I wouldn’t push her to decide what to do. We’d be there for a week which was more than enough time to panic over reuniting.
“I should’ve just ignored it,” Delilah grumbled to herself, flicking on her blinker with another huff. “What’s with moms and their stupid powers of perfect timing?”
“I wouldn’t know. Aleksander killed my mother when I was 15. I suppose it’s a good thing my father was in jail in America when it happened, otherwise I’d be an orphan. Are you going to call her back?”
She mumbled something about deciding on the plane.
I reached to squeeze her arm comfortingly. “Take time, baby. It’s all right.”
“Yeah...”
I could see the plane hanging on the tarmac now, and the conversation rightfully fizzled. A new kind of irritation flooded my system at all the cars that were parked, waiting. We weren’t late. I knew that Carlyle would try to pull some stunt—I just didn’t know what it was. “Is that your friend? What was her name?”
There were a few women hanging around, talking, it looked like.
Delilah parked the car in the open-air tarmac and flopped back, jerking the emergency break as she sighed heavily. “Yeah, that one is Riley. The blonde girl is Vanessa. That guy there is Reece… he’s the guy you paid all that money to essentially hand me over to Carlyle.” Delilah rolled her eyes. “To be honest, I really don’t like either of them. They’re both really...opinionated.”
I unbuckled myself with a sigh of my own. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We went out one day when I was in New York City, and I made the mistake of complaining about you being gone all the time. Riley’s friend was all like ‘oh, you should break up and try for something new’ and I...I didn’t want to get into an argument about why I didn’t want anything ‘new’, so I just...agreed. I just wanted to end the conversation because all they insinuated was breaking up, not trying to fix the issues or anything. And really, the only issue was the distance and now. that’s not a thing anymore. So...” Delilah covered her face with a harsh groan. “Everyone I talked to always said to break up with you, but they don’t understand why I couldn’t. I didn’t even complain or anything, I mean, I did, but I was complaining about Carlyle and his stupid, controlling, asshole-ness.”
I raised my brows. “This’ll be fun, then.” A barrage of emotions flurried in my chest.
Delilah peeked out between long, slender fingers with guilt shining in her eyes.
Leaning over the center console to pry her hands from her face, I kissed her soft lips. Swallowing her groan of foreboding, I pulled back to stroke her chin. “No one else matters… YA ne zabochus' ni o kom, krome tebya, detka.” I don’t care about anyone but you, baby.
“...One of these days, you’re going to have to teach me Russian.”
The truth was simple… I liked that Delilah couldn’t understand me sometimes. Only nodding while she unbuckled, I took a deep, stabilizing breath before popping open the passenger side door.
12
Delilah
“Do you think I should call my mom back or just...show up? She lives near the fairgrounds. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if we bumped into each other there.” I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom’s call, as I folded my phone over and over in my palm. Glancing away from the window, I frowned when Darren hummed softly in acknowledgment. “I don’t want to get blindsided.”
“If you want to, we can. I’d probably enjoy meeting your family. What’s the worst that can happen?” Darren paused thumbing through the news app on his phone to cast me a quizzical look.
Scrunching my nose up at that question, I shook my head slightly. “Portland’s a pretty...racist place. They don’t advertise that interesting fact on their website.” Puffing out my lips in distaste, my mouth dried in shame. “Specifically, my brother is pretty heavy in the white supremacist scene or he was when we were in high school and college. Until he dropped out because he had a black TA his second semester.”
“White supremacy?” Darren asked.
I had spent so long trying not to think about my brother. He was such a disgusting person and I was ashamed of being related to him. None of my other family members were as blatantly or obviously ignorant. “Yeah...it’s a big thing in Portland. Every year, the fairs end up being a magnet for their rallies and stuff. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was still really into it.” Even now, after years, I got second-hand embarrassment from Kyle.
That’s right. Kyle, the Monster-chugging, criminal-record-having bum that never moved out of my parents’ house even for a little bit. Five years ago, my brother was still a loser at 26, selling weed to kids and thinking he was the shit at his job working the Burger King drive-thru window. He wasn’t even a manager despite working there since he was 15. Granted, he’d never been fired, but that could be because his own manager was also buying weed from him. At least, he had been five years ago.
“Who knows. A lot of things can change in five years, Delilah. Maybe your brother grew out of his racism. There’s always that one loser that doesn’t, though.”
Darren had a point and I grunted lowly as I sunk into my seat in disgrace.
“Besides, you making up with your parents doesn’t mean you have to make up with your brother. Your mom seemed genuinely upset on the phone.”
“I guess she was. I mean...my mom has a lot of reasons to be judgy, and a good portion of them are valid. Like the modelling industry being corrupt and that if I was gonna sleep around, I’d eventually get an STI or something if I wasn’t careful. But she could’ve had a little more faith in me, you know. She’s known me all my life. She can’t have such low standards for me, right?” I flopped my head back and blustered a sigh. “It’s complicated.”
Darren reached over to grab my hand. “Well, if you do, I’m very good at dealing with illogical racists and people that think they’re infallible.” He squeezed my hand reassuringly.
I could only muster a grim smile at the prospect of trying to make amends with my mom. Glancing over at Riley, scrolling away on her phone and tapping her foot absently, my lips disappeared between my teeth.
Her parents were getting a divorce; Riley’s father had moved just outside New York City and her mother had disappeared. I didn’t know if that meant that horrible, old woman was dead, or if she’s just run away in shame to some desert island. The maids in Carlyle’s compound talked so much about so many things, and they didn’t care who was around to listen.
The maids never talked about me, though…at least not when I was listening.
“So...” Seating himself across from us, Carlyle crossed his legs and cast Darren a curious look. “How are you liking America so far, Darren?”
“I like what I’ve seen so far.”
Sometimes, it was hard to remember that Carlyle and Darren both were lords of their own realm, for lack of a better analogy. Darren was the go-between for all the foreign weapons Carlyle sold or stocked and as time went on, I began to understand why he’d gotten poached.
Gazing back at his pseudo-boss coolly, Darren wasn’t afraid of Carlyle, and if he was nervous, he didn’t show it.
After working for a man like Aleksander, I wouldn’t be surprised if no one scared Darren.
Carlyle finally spoke again, “I want your input on what you think is going to happen when I let the Russians back onto American soil.”
Tensing, my breath caught in my throat as the atmosphere in the plane became dense with expectation.
Suddenly, everyone was looking at us, and I could see Vanessa pulling out her earbuds out of the corner of my eye.
“You know them better than I. Aleksander doesn’t have some obscure leverage on me somehow, does he?”
“If he did, I wouldn’t know about it. He didn’t trust me with that kind of thing. You’re probably better off asking Malda about that.” So smooth, like warm butter, Darren answered.
Carlyle’s eyes narrow
ed into tight points.
“The only thing I know for certain is that he’s putting one of his sisters on it. I don’t know which one, but if I had to hazard a guess, it’d be Katina. She’s a terrible woman.”
“That’s pretty much what Malda said.” Carlyle nodded. “I asked her to this little function, but she declined. Air travel isn’t kind to her. Anyway...Now that Aleksander is without you, I’m guessing he’ll have to reevaluate his plans to try to get a foot in my door. You were his only link to the outside. Even if he does manage to become Prime Minister, it wouldn’t suddenly extend his reach.”
Carlyle is letting the Russians operate here? My gaze swung to Darren as he tightened his grip on my hand, widening in the horror of realization. What if they keep trying to kill him?
“I’m curious about your view on this issue,” Carlyle went on. “You’ve known Aleksander’s business practices longer and more intimately than me. Frankly, I can’t get over how much I fucking despise him to think of anything.”
“Honestly, Carlyle...your guess is as good or better than mine.” Darren stared back at him without flinching. “I made Aleksander money. He didn’t manage me enough to show me anything. I dealt mostly with his father or brother, much like you send Oran to do your overseas dealings. The old man was not happy with what was going on, though. I don’t think anyone knows what Aleksander is planning except himself and he’s surely, going to try not to give you any hints.”
I was lost in this conversation as I looked between Darren and Carlyle with stupidity dragging my features.
“I think that in itself is telling,” Darren finished.
Carlyle raised a brow at him. “Do you think Aleksander would be idiot enough to try to kill you on my turf?”
My throat tightened at this question.