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Heedless: The Hellbound Brotherhood Book Four

Page 16

by Shannon McKenna


  She saved the game and closed out. “Let’s get moving.

  Between the two of them they got all the stuff dragged down and loaded into his rented Jeep. The morning was gray and raw, snow fluttering down, but the roads were mostly clear. They drove to Bellamy to pick up the keys, and from there, headed straight to the house in the hills that Gina had secured for their base of operations.

  It was a strikingly beautiful house. Modern, glassy, austere. Perched up on a hill with a clear view all the way around it. There was an indoor pool and a sheltered rock garden atrium in the center. Picture windows on every side opened onto a wraparound deck that showed a vast panorama of wintry mountain landscape.

  Nate and Elisa worked feverishly to get the computer monitor and gamer console set back up. Elisa logged back into the game and found both her and Josh’s points dangerously low, so Nate siphoned money out of his credit card and topped them up. Elisa had to look away as his avatar once again sliced its wrist with the ceremonial knife and sprayed gouts of virtual blood onto the stained altar.

  “That is vile,” she said. “Whoever designed this game is twisted.”

  “Yeah,” Nate agreed. “And thank God for them.”

  “Amen,” she agreed, leaning to peer at the pop-up menu.

  GeekwadX1000 appeared on the list, to her intense relief. “He’s online,” she said, using the wand to tap Josh’s line on the Obelisk, where Josh had left a brief message. The translation appeared in the dialog box. w8ing

  im here, she typed back.

  thank god i was afraid it was just a dream. tnx 4 the points btw

  no dream she typed. im really here and i wont stop until u r free

  “Let me talk to him,” Nate said.

  passing u to nate. more l8r, she typed.

  Elisa sat back and watched Nate typing into the computer, hair dangling over his face, eyes narrowed in concentration. His fingers flew. Nate in work mode, utterly focused. Sexy. Wow, she must have done something good in a past life to deserve this.

  She went into the kitchen and loaded up the coffee maker to keep busy, and to avoid getting weepy again. When the water had gurgled through and the pot was full, she poured two cups and brought them back to the room with the gaming consoles, offering one to Nate. “Brace yourself,” she warned. “I made it brutally strong.”

  “Perfect,” he said without looking up, and accepted it, taking a sip. “I have to stop for a while anyway, because Josh just told me he has to go do some work in the kitchen. He has assigned chores after meals. He’s on dishwasher duty. You know what? Your little brother is the perfect hostage, from a rescuer’s point of view.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Nate’s eyes studied the script of their past messages on the screen as he sipped his coffee. “Absolutely. He’s smart, and mentally organized. He’s been paying close attention, analyzing everything, running escape scenarios from the start. He thinks that the battery is corroded on the emergency generator, based on a power outage he remembers during a ski trip a few years ago. He doubts that it ever got repaired back then, because your father wasn’t there at the time, and Josh never told him. So he wants to try to cutting the power when we get there. He’s a gold mine of good intel, considering the stress he’s been under. You should be proud of him.”

  That was the last straw. Here she went again. Elisa turned her back and set her mug down before covering up her face, which felt like it was shaking into pieces.

  “Whoa!” Nate rose his feet and grabbed her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  “Please, just ignore me, okay?”

  “Like hell.” His voice was gentle, but relentless as ever. “Talk to me.”

  “I don’t have anything to say,” she told him. “It’s obvious stuff. I’m just scared. That he’ll be hurt, that you’ll be hurt. Or killed. That I’m making a mistake, taking on Gil, getting you involved. I also know we don’t have time for this shit right now. I’ll fall apart later, when we’re not on the clock. So carry on. Pay me no mind.”

  Nate just dragged her into a hug so tight, she could barely breathe.

  It felt wonderful. It held her shattered pieces together. And he didn’t get bored, or awkward, or feel embarrassed by the silent hug. He just kept at it, a constant, tender squeeze. Relentless and heroic. A silent, patient message.

  For as long as you need.

  18

  When the shaking subsided, Elisa signaled to him with a pat to the back and a soft kiss pressed against his jaw. “I’m good now,” she murmured.

  “Are you sure?” He leaned back, studying her face.

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “Yes, really. Thanks. That helped.”

  “Your brother is lucky to have you,” he told her.

  Elisa let out a crack of laughter. “Get real, Nate. Nothing was happening for my brother until you got involved in this. You’re the sum total of my luck. You caught the message in the video, you bought the computer and gaming equipment, you dragged me through that hellish game by brute force, you poured out all your blood on the altar, and now you’re rallying the troops and coming up with a plan to bust him out of jail. You are amazing. You did it all of it. What did I do?”

  “A lot,” he said emphatically. “You’re been hanging onto a demon by the tail, all by yourself. You’ve forced Gil to stay his hand. You’ve been in a stand-off with that filthy bastard for months, completely alone. You’ve been keeping your brother alive until you could catch a break. Never giving up. Never giving in. That fucking counts.”

  She wiped her eyes, laughing. “Wow. That’s a very nice spin on this situation, Nate. So on top of all your other many gifts, you give amazing pep talks.”

  He wiped her tears away with his thumb. That gorgeous smile made her heart go all soft and hot. Damn. Now was not a time for feeling vulnerable.

  She pulled away from him and started pacing restlessly through the huge, beautiful living room. Focusing in on it, to distract herself. She hugged herself as she walked, shivering even though it wasn’t cold, and her sweater was thick and cozy.

  The room was big and bright, with fabulous windows at every turn, and odd but harmonious shapes and angles. Gil’s decorating preferences at the Roarke town house in San Francisco had been old-style classic. Heavy dark wood paneling, lots of massive, stiff antique furniture. Oppressive, like the man himself.

  “This place is gorgeous,” she said. “This is how I’d decorate, if I were left to my own devices. Light colors. Lots of light and empty space. Huge windows. Perfect.”

  Nate followed her through the dining room and kitchen, then into the glassed in corridor that ran on the next side of the big central atrium. Through the glass wall, they saw a beautiful large indoor pool, and a big hot tub. Curls of steam rose from it.

  She glanced back at Nate. “Nice,” she murmured. “Looks fun.”

  “It would be,” he said. “Hot water really works for us.”

  They kept walking, all around the atrium, to the corridor facing the far side, which opened onto a series of bedroom and bath suites. She peeked inside each one, sighing in pleasure at the bedrooms, each more attractive and graceful than the last.

  When she came to the last one, she went in to admire it. “They’re all so nice, it would be hard to pick a favorite,” she told him. “Every single one of them has the feel of a showcase master bedroom. No subordinate bedrooms here.”

  Nate looked up at the multiple skylights on the slanted roof with a speculative gleam in his eyes. “This one would make a great painter’s studio.”

  She paused, taken aback. “I suppose it would,” she said. “But I’ll get there when I get there. One thing at a time.”

  “I’ll see to it that you get there. Soon.”

  She turned away to peek into the bathroom before he could see her face. “Don’t make promises like that,” she told him, without turning. “Please, Nate. It’s premature. And it’s bad luck. We need to stay focused. No magical thinking.”

  “Sure,�
�� Nate said, following her to the bathroom door. “And I am. But you also need to know what you’re fighting for. The future you want.”

  “How about a future where Josh and I continue to breathe?” Her voice was sharp.

  “That goes without saying,” Nate said. “But I’m talking about after all this is done and dusted. Do you dream of going back to your life in San Francisco? Your friends there, your art gallery?”

  Elisa’s heart thudded. So anxious, she could hardly breathe. She met his eyes in the bathroom mirror. “I don’t dream about the future,” she said. “I don’t dare.”

  Nate leaned on the doorjamb. “I didn’t used to think about the future much. But in the last couple of days, I really have. All the time. Daydreams, fantasies.”

  “Yeah?” she asked. “You think it’s the right time for daydreams?”

  He shrugged. “They come when they come. I can’t stop them. I’m thinking about making some changes. Not just cruising through life. Deciding some things more deliberately. Thinking about a destination. Maybe a place to live outside the city. Maybe something like this.” He hesitated. “Someplace that you’d like, too.”

  She turned away, biting her lip. “Really, Nate?” she said, her voice tight. “You’ve got Gil out there, and Kimball gunning for you, and you’re thinking about nesting? You should really save it for a better season.”

  “Eric and Demi made a decision, not to let Kimball call the shots for them anymore,” Nate said. “I thought they were nuts. But now, I’m starting to see their point.”

  “Nate—”

  “Those pricks don’t get to pick. Not for you, or for me.” His voice was low and fierce. “Not Gil. Not Kimball. Fuck those guys. We can decide for ourselves. We could die tomorrow. So let’s live every day. Completely.”

  “Nate, this is the wrong time for this conversation.”

  “A guy can dream,” he said. “And all I dream about is you.”

  She held up her hand. “Stop it,” she said. “Hold it right there, buddy. Not another goddamn word out of you.”

  Nate nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “The last two days have been incredible. But I can’t make this big leap that you want from me. I just can’t. Not yet.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

  “Please understand. The stakes are already so high. And I’m not even all that worried about getting killed anymore. It’s Josh I stress about. And you want me to jack up the stakes even more? Let’s just pile up all the other things that Gil might be able to steal from me now. Like you. He could take you away from me forever. And laugh in my face while he did it.”

  “Elisa, I’m not going to let him—”

  “It’s not up to you!” she said fiercely. “It’s fucking random and you know it! It wasn’t up to Willis. Don’t tell me you can guarantee anything. Don’t lie to me.”

  He opened his mouth, and then closed it, looking grim. “Elisa—”

  “And there’s everything else,” she raged on. “He stole so much from me already, and now he wants the rest. I had good friends in San Francisco. Real ones, and I miss them. I had my brother, my work at the gallery. He’s taken it all. And the hopes and dreams, too. Traveling, seeing the world. Champagne with brunch, wine with dinner, coffee with breakfast. True love. Maybe even kids. Growing old together. Hell, growing old at all!”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t you see, Nate?” Her voice was impassioned. “I can’t even afford to hope for the future. I can’t dream or plan. It hurts too much. It’s like getting an electrical shock.”

  “I understand,” he said carefully.

  “One thing is sure, though,” she told him. “It’s not because I don’t care. Got it?”

  Nate nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I get it. I’m being an asshole. I shouldn’t push you right now, when you’re all worked up. I’m sorry.”

  Elisa put her hands over her face. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Stop being so fucking nice to me, okay? You must think I’m such a mental case.”

  “I think you’re spectacular,” he said. “And when all of this is done, and that shithead is dead or rotting in jail, I’ll be right here. Waiting. Hoping.”

  She looked up at him, laughing through her tears. “Goddamn it, Nate.”

  Their gaze met, for one breathless moment—and they both moved at the same instant. Suddenly she was wrapped in a fierce, shaking embrace that flooded her with emotion. She looked up, fully intending to say something, but her lips found his.

  Words vanished, forgotten. What the kiss had to say was infinitely more important. Infinitely more true and sweet and poignant. Raw. Real. So beautiful.

  She felt the hot bulge of his penis against her belly and reached down, dragging the buttons of his jeans open. Still kissing him.

  Nate rocked back. “Here?” he sounded startled. “Right now?”

  She laughed, tugging on the buttons. “Now you decide to be coy?”

  “I thought you wanted me to be more restrained!”

  “It’s not my fault if you being restrained is so fucking crazy sexy,” she told him. “It’s unfair. It’s very confusing for me. Get these jeans down…right…now.”

  She jerked his jeans and underwear down over his hips, freeing up that big, gorgeous cock, which bobbed high and proud, ready for anything. Thick and blunt and endlessly enthusiastic. She sank down onto her knees, gripping the taut base of his penis, and took him in her mouth.

  Wow. She loved his taste. He barely fit, but the feel of him, the texture of his skin, the solidity of his hard cock in her mouth excited her beyond belief. She had just a brief, fleeting moment of feeling insecure about her technique, and then it burned away like steam, gone forever. Nate’s obvious, helpless response could not be faked. He loved everything she did. It was all fine with him.

  That freed her, absolutely. She’d never felt so wild and wickedly seductive, going after those shuddering groans that vibrated through his body, drawing those pleading, incoherent words out of him. She knew what he was trying to say. Her body knew. She savored his hot, salty taste, the ropy veins, his throbbing pulse against her tongue as she pleasured him. The salty-sweet, slick drops of pre-come.

  She leaned back to spread it tenderly around his glans with her fingertip, until it gleamed—and then licked it tenderly off again. Long, lapping strokes. Strong swirls of her tongue. Deep sucking pulls. Driving him deliciously out of his mind.

  And herself, as well. She was clenching her thighs desperately around the hot throb of arousal. Getting deeper, sharper. Elisa grabbed his hands and tugged. Nate swiftly pulled her up, his eyes questioning.

  “I want you,” she said shakily. “Right now.”

  “Anytime,” he said. “Any way you want.”

  She looked down at the black lace-up boots that Nate had bought for her the day before. Not happening. Too complicated. It would take too long to get those off. She tugged him over to the sink, and they stared at the mirror. She would never get enough of that sight. The look in his eyes. His big, stiff penis in his grip. Slowly stroking himself.

  So damn hot. She could hardly breathe, she was so excited.

  She hiked up the sweater, and jerked the leggings and underwear down to her ankles. “We’ll do it like this,” she said. “Don’t want to bother with the boots.”

  Nate bent down to stroke his big hands slowly up over the skin of her hips. “You sure?” he asked. “Let me go down on you first. Seems only fair.”

  “Save that for later,” she said, jerking her sweater up and off. “Don’t make me wait.” She met his eyes in the mirror after she pulled the sweater free and her hair tumbled back down, a wild, tousled mop over her shoulders and face. Her eyes were fierce as she unclasped her bra and flung it away.

  She grabbed the edge of the sink and bent over, opening her legs as far as the hobbling garments at her ankles would allow. Arching her back.

 
They couldn’t look away from each other. She breathed fast and shallow, savoring the thick, heavy quality of the air between them. The breathless, trembling push and pull of hunger. Power. She needed to push him to the brink to get what she needed from him—and she knew just how to do it, instinctively.

  She’d always known. Since the stars were formed.

  Elisa smiled at him and swayed back toward him, breasts dangling. Daring him with her eyes. “Touch me,” she said. “I’m so wet. The way you look at me makes me wet. The way you kiss me. The things you say to me. Licking your gorgeous cock makes me wet. Go ahead, touch my pussy. You’ll see it’s true. I’m aching for you.”

  Nate tried to speak, but quickly abandoned the attempt, and took her at her word, sliding his hands lovingly over her ass cheeks again. Then lower, to her vulva.

  He made a low, choking sound in his throat as he felt the truth for himself. She was drenched, slick. Rocking back eagerly against his fingers with a moan of eagerness. “Nate,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “Yeah,” he said raggedly. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

  Sounds she couldn’t control came out of her at the wonderful sensation. His thick cockhead, stroking her pussy lips, then nudging and sliding between. Pushing past the resistance and into her slick, plush depths. Taking all of him.

  No words, just panting breaths. The wet, rhythmic sounds of his cock, pumping. First carefully, as he found the angle that made her whimper and gasp. He found all the sweet spots inside her, and proceeded to stroke and pet them expertly with his marvelous cock. Deep, slick, fabulous fucking.

  Her fingers clutched the sink, and she pushed back to meet his heavy thrusts. Excitement built deep in her belly, like the thundering of an oncoming train. It was swelling into something huge, something overwhelming—

  It broke, crashing through her, sending them flying out into the dark. Fused.

  Afterwards, Nate was draped over her back, stroking her breasts, kissing her spine. Keeping her warm. He slowly lifted himself up and pulled himself out.

  Elisa stood up, and watched him tuck himself back into his jeans and button them up. She turned, wishing she had the presence of mind to strike a sexy pose, but her knees were too weak. Every part of her shook with residual pleasure.

 

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