Vengeance: The Program Book 4

by N. M. Catalano

  We might be fucked up, but we’ve got manners.

  She touched a finger to the corner of my mouth. “It’s a little beer.”

  I grabbed her wrist and sucked the fingertip between my lips. “You taste even better,” I murmured as I swirled my tongue around her digit. She stared at my mouth, then stroked my lip with her finger. I set my beverage down, “Come here darlin’,” I tugged her onto my lap. “You are just too good to be true.” I wrapped my arms around her. “And Lord have mercy, you are delicious.” I licked along her neck before I closed my lips on her flesh and sucked. She panted and tilted her head to the side. “You are beautiful,” I whispered against her skin. She was, she was an angel and she was saving our souls tonight. I slipped the hand I had snaked around her back to her front underneath her shirt, pushed her bra up over her breasts and teased them. With the other, I pulled her mouth to mine and kissed her. It was hungry.

  I could feel the boy’s eyes on us, they burned us with their intensity. They didn’t make any noise, but I knew they were there. I also knew they were feeling what I was feeling.

  With my hands on her luscious breasts and my mouth feasting on hers, I shifted her so she was facing forward. Facing my brothers. I opened her legs and she wrapped her feet around my calves again, just like before. This time there was no barrier between us and them. I slid a hand between her thighs and grazed my thumb over her heat. She ripped her mouth from mine and let out a moan.

  Gringo was right there. He clutched her chin, covered her mouth with his and swallowed her sounds.

  Another pair of hands lifted her shirt exposing her breasts. I didn’t stop working her nipples. I held both of them between my fingers and thumbs. Rock sucked one in as Snake took the other taking both her and my fingers in deep. Our little dove’s body pulled as taut as a bow string as she thrust herself into them. She grabbed my thighs with both hands and dug her nails into my muscles. Her thighs opened wider as she pressed herself onto my lap. My dick demanded to be released.

  I pulled my hands away from her softness to tug her shirt and bra off. I needed her naked. We needed her naked so we could devour every inch of her. She reached back and clawed at the hem of my shirt.

  I growled. The thought of her flesh against mine as she was worked with four sets of mouths and hands, and maybe cocks, did something primitive to me.

  I slipped my shirt off between our bodies. Her heat penetrated me and it was so fucking good. She let out a long, slow breath and melted into me.

  That was the moment she gave in to everything.

  “Take her skirt off. That pussy wants to be worshipped.” My voice was low and raspy.

  I held the tops of her arms, pushing her shoulders back and chest out. Rock and Snake were still showering her beautiful tits with attention, but Gringo slid in front of her.

  “Show us that beautiful cunt, little dove. I want to pet her feathers.” He was barely audible, but the command enveloped her.

  Slowly, so slowly, she reached as best she could for the closure of her skirt. That was all it took.

  Gringo bent, slid the zipper down, and peeled every piece of fabric from her body.

  “Open her wide. Make her come.” I wanted to feel her fall apart before I even got inside her.

  Rock clasped one of her thighs, Snake the other, and held them open as far as they would go.

  She mumbled something I couldn’t understand as she dropped her head back against my chest.

  Gringo dropped to his knees in front of her and lowered his face to her slit. I knew the moment he made contact with her because her back arched sharply.

  “So fucking good,” he rumbled from between her thighs.

  With her arms pulled back and her thighs spread, she ground herself against me as Gringo feasted on her. When she came, she came with a long throaty moan. Through heavy breaths, she panted, “Please.” She reached down and pushed on the top of my pants.

  I released her and slipped my hands between us. She lifted and gave me just enough room to open my jeans and shove them down, freeing my hard-on. When she lowered, it rubbed against her slickness and sent a tremor through my body and hers.

  “Sweetness, I can’t wait to be buried inside you,” the rumble came out rough.

  She turned to look up at me. “Yes.” She looked so beautiful, all flushed and pink. I kissed her. This time it was slow and tender. I took my time, appreciating her taste, as I nudged the head of my cock inside her sheath, the sensations of her were amplified knowing I was being watched. I wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pushed her down as I pressed in. She gasped as I went deeper and deeper. My cock swelled when I was in as far as I could go. Then I held her there. She clenched me, and hell, it was perfect.

  “She looks so good full of your cock, Bull. Beautiful.” Gringo.

  She made a soft mewling sound deep in her throat as her walls gripped me again.

  I think the little dove likes being watched.

  Then what she did next shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. With both hands, she reached out and cupped Rock’s and Snake’s bulge. As our tongues swirled together, she stared into my eyes.

  I broke the kiss. “Take them out,” I rasped. I wasn’t sure if she would.

  She did. Her dainty fingers fumbled with each of their zippers. The rasping sound of metal against metal blended with our heavy breathing until a hiss and a curse came from either side of us. She had their thickness held in each of her hands. A third zipper opened. Gringo stood in front of us stroking his length.

  I clasped her by the waist and held her firmly impaled on my shaft. I wanted to move and drive into her.

  I wanted to watch her suck my brothers more.

  “Do you want to taste them, you pretty thing?”

  It felt like her hand closed around me inside of her instead of Rock and Snake.

  She leaned forward and lowered her mouth on Rock’s dick as she worked Snake’s with her hand.

  It was fucking beautiful.

  My heart pounded so hard watching her with them, I could feel each thump in my cock.

  Rock came with a low growl. Then she turned that sweet mouth to finish Snake off. He held her by the top of her head until he was done.

  She fell back against me.

  “He’s going to watch me fuck you, little dove, and he’s going to come all over you as I do.”

  Her inner walls gripped me again. Her body told me she liked that idea.

  I positioned her perfectly on my groin, then slipped my hands to the juncture of her thighs, holding her open, and finally I began to thrust. It was heaven, it was nirvana, it was exactly what I wanted. All of it. Sharing this with them, sharing her with them, having her in front of them, all of us experiencing pleasure together instead of hell.

  I flicked her clit with my thumb, I slipped a finger inside her ass, and I used her as I brought her closer to the brink. I wanted this to go on as long as I could.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t hold out any longer, I rasped, “Suck her beautiful tits.” Two mouths ravaged her. “Cover her soft skin with your cum,” I growled. Long streams of white cream jetted across her flesh as I buried myself deep within her and pressed down on her clit. Her body spasmed against mine as she came all over my cock. I came so damn hard, I thought my head was going to explode.

  Gringo and I had adjoining rooms. I slid from her heat, cradled the sweet dove in my arms, and carried her to my room. I laid her gently on the bed, then went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. I cleaned her as her eyes drooped. When I slipped into bed next to her, she had a smile on her face.

  The dark cloud of restlessness was finally gone.

  None of us had planned it.

  She probably never dreamed of four men.

  But this was exactly the way it was supposed to be.

  CHAPTER 6

  Bull

  Seven Years Later

  The road to ruin is a hundred-mile-an-hour straight shot to destruction.

 
The road to redemption is a thousand-mile-uphill battle to salvation. It's nearly impossible.

  I hadn’t passed any cars for the past several miles, just lots of trees. I preferred it that way, the fewer people I have to deal with, the better. Which is why I’d opted to forego GPS and map out the trip by way of an old fashioned map. It’s beautiful, windy, empty roads through stretches of forest, and not an army vehicle or pimped out car for hours. Days. Months. The radio wasn’t even on.

  I don’t know when it happened. We thought we were being sent to do something good, the assignments had started as military related. The assignments were to gather intel, or to retrieve men who’d been caught in enemy territory. Get in, get the objective, then get the fuck out. Then things began to change, we hadn’t even realized it, nothing seemed unusual. Except the locations.

  We’d found ourselves outside of the usual war zones and we were no longer sneaking in under the cover of night. Our locations were cities and five star restaurants, hotel suites and the backseats of Mercedes and BMWs. We had contacts and spies and runners. The men who had become our accomplices were once our enemy.

  The lines had become crossed, things began to have price tags and deals, and it didn’t matter who gave us what we wanted, or the price that had to be paid, no one and nothing was off limits.

  Everything got dirty.

  We couldn’t do it anymore, so we got out, all four of us.

  But we couldn’t leave.

  The army had been right.

  When they threw us in the hole, they destroyed the men we once were and created their very own made to order soldiers. We might not have still worn the uniforms, but that was only clothes. It was imprinted on the depths of our beings, we couldn’t shred that shit from our souls. Our minds had been programmed, our bodies had been sculpted. Our hunger needed to be satisfied.

  They knew. Right from the beginning, they knew what the long range plan was for us.

  They neglected to tell us there was fine print at the bottom of the contract when we signed on for the Special Ops program.

  It was executed perfectly, timed with the utmost precision. Looking back now, it’s so clear that we were sent to the worst assignment at the end of our tour of duty for no other reason but to make us get out.

  They had bigger and better plans for us. We were far from done.

  We just had to end our enlistment to get us there.

  They let us stew for a while in our own misery after we left. We did. We couldn’t function in normal society. Nine to five jobs, a house in the suburbs with the little misses and two-point-five kids wasn’t meant for us. Not for the machines we’d been made into.

  We were broken when we’d joined. When we got out, we were beyond saving.

  We tried, Jesus Christ we tried to be normal, to find a place we could exist. We faked it for a little while until the monsters inside us got so hungry, we couldn’t keep them leashed any longer. We were about to break.

  That’s when they struck.

  Me, Gringo, Rock, and Snake each received a letter, an invitation really. It was very well done. They commended us for exemplary jobs, they slapped us on our backs for our individual talents, and they couldn’t say enough about how good we were together.

  If they only knew.

  It was the army, they probably did.

  That was when they asked to meet with us together to discuss joining a private organization. They wanted to offer us a job, but not just any job, and they wanted us as a group. They provided airfare and the best hotel accommodations, ground transportation, and anything else we might want.

  The powers that be were trying to bribe us.

  They knew none of that shit would work.

  However, they did know what would.

  Us. We were the only thing they could offer us that would make us agree to becoming soldiers for hire. Mercenaries.

  We went out to a facility in Nevada in the desert a little ways outside of Las Vegas. On the outside it gave the impression of being a fancy warehouse. The structure was new and had state of the art security. Once we were allowed to enter, the only way into the building was by retinal scan. Our phones and any electronics that we had were taken from us.

  We knew at that point whoever or whatever was in charge of this organization was not operating through mainstream channels. Everything screamed covert and secretive. Even the letters we’d received didn’t indicate anything specific. When we were led to the main operating room, that’s when things exploded. It was a massive hub of electronics and data all spewing up-to-the-second-information from all corners of the world. Each station was manned by someone wearing headphones so we couldn’t hear what the information was that was being delivered. We knew. We’d lived it for so long, we didn’t have to hear the deals and plans that were being orchestrated.

  We were standing in the puppet masters den.

  “Welcome, gentlemen, to The Program,” our hostess with the mostest announced. “As far as the world is concerned, we do not exist. However,” he turned to the look at the screens behind him. We recognized it as Abu Dhabi. “If we did not exist, we would now probably be a communist country,” he turned back to face us. “Or worse.”

  The fucked up thing is he was probably right.

  The most horrible thing we’d learned, the most heart breaking reality we’d been forced to come face to face with during our time as special ops soldiers is you cannot win terror by being fair. The saddest part is most people choose to live blindfolded.

  Ignorance is bliss.

  It’s also dangerous. Which is why they need people like us.

  We knew that. We knew that when we thought we were getting our lives back which is why we got out. But we chose to tell ourselves something different.

  That’s the reason we’re standing in The Program compound.

  It was bullshit and we couldn’t deny it any longer.

  We were what we were, and we’re good at it. It’s the only thing we know.

  We went to find out what they had to offer us. We had a choice, that’s what we thought.

  Our guide, he’d introduced himself as Lieutenant, directed us toward a hallway on the other side of the massive hub of technology. “This way please. The Director has an offer for you.”

  Me, Rock, Gringo, and Snake followed him down a carpeted hallway. Everything in the place was pristine and new, polished to a high finish, perfectly up to military standards. Despite the appearance, this wasn’t the army. We were led to what appeared to be a screening room complete with four rows of theater seating facing a large screen. The room was dark and there was nothing else in there. We weren’t kids, we didn’t need instructions, so we took our seats and waited for the show to start.

  Within a few minutes the lieutenant announced, “Director, we’re in place.”

  The room remained unlit as a voice came through the darkness. “Silva, Priest, Smith, DeJesus, it’s good to see you again. Thank you for coming.”

  Hold up, we know this guy?

  “Let me clarify, you do not know me, but I know you. I handpicked each one of you for the Special Ops program. I watched every single mission you were on. I watched you during that last test of your training. I was there every single step. And to answer your question, no I am not nor have I ever been military.” The four of us looked at each other, questions and emotions battling over our faces. “That was only the beginning. That was to prepare you for your true purpose. To bring you here.” The screen flashed and images came to life. “It’s best if I start from the beginning, then you can ask whatever you’d like afterwards.”

  That’s how we became Program soldiers. People needed saving, bad guys needed to be taken care of, and the world still needed to remain a safe place. The only way that could happen is with bad guys that were on the right team. Guys like us. Bad guys with a conscious and morals.

  That’s what we told ourselves.

  We later found out that wasn’t entirely true.

  It was still a
bout money and power and greed, and whoever had the most of it was on top. The art of the game was straddling that fine line so all of that wouldn’t tip the balance to the bad guy’s side. It was our job to keep the appearance of righteousness.

  Bullshit.

  We’d found that out the hard way on our last assignment. The shit storm came barreling at us like a goddamn avalanche and we all got buried. Of course The Program cleaned up the mess and the world was still walks in the park and Friday night movies. No one was the wiser, except us.

  When we got out of the army, we’d sworn never to leave anyone behind, never to allow innocent casualties.

  On our last job for The Program we’d been ordered to stand down when an ambassador had been caught at the wrong place at the wrong time. Our job was to escort a foreign oil billionaire to a private meeting with investors. Tensions were high. He’d raised the stakes and the money hungry suits wanted a piece of his pie. The oil mogul was calling the shots and he got greedy. The ambassador got wind of the meeting and crashed the party. When he tried to play by the rules and threatened to call NATO, they took him for a private discussion.

  He’d been kidnapped.

  We called for clearance to extract him. We were given strict orders not to interfere because the meeting was not happening. None of us were there.

  They killed him within twenty-four hours and threw his body to the terrorists and made it look like Al Qaeda was responsible. Fucking money was responsible and the big shots whose pockets were going to get hit.

  That was a year ago.

  We walked. I went back to Kentucky. I’d made some money, The Program pays really well, and had bought my parents a house. My dad’s health had suffered over the years, but I did what I could to make things better. Snake’s mother had been killed by his father while he was in the army. He went home, I’m sure to kill his piece of shit dad. Gringo went back the Bronx, probably to make peace there as well. Rock, Rock was another story. He didn’t have a home. He called every now and again from different places. Finally, he ended up in Riverbend, small town, USA. It seemed he’d found some semblance of peace.