Best Laid Plans

by Stylo Fantome

  Goddamn, she’s gorgeous.

  “What are you doing here?”

  They both spoke in unison.

  “Ivanov asked me for a meeting, but he seems to have forgotten. Your entrance was a little … dramatic,” Lily answered first.

  “You think? Good thing you weren’t downstairs, then,” he replied.

  “Why?”

  “Because I broke in a backdoor and when one of those idiots tried to stop me, I beat him unconscious with my gun.”

  She didn’t even blink.

  I should marry this girl.

  “Nice. You’re bleeding,” she pointed out.

  “I know. Just a graze.”

  Was it getting hot in the anteroom? He felt warm.

  “It could need stitches.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “A bandage?”

  “Probably.”

  “I could bandage it for you.”

  And energy. It was like there was an incredible amount of energy in the room. Sparking. Causing tension. An unavoidable explosion.

  I want to devour her.

  “You still leaving tomorrow?” he barked out, stepping up close to her. She stood up and nodded.

  “As far as I know.”

  “Go as fast as you can. The shit I saw tonight … I’ve seen some fucked up stuff in my life, but … goddamn. Liberian gangs don’t fuck around, they make these guys look like tame little kittens,” Marc gestured to the house.

  “So I’ve gathered. I’m set to leave at six-thirty. I won’t look back,” she assured him.

  “Good. After you’re done here, meet me at the bar down the street,” he told her.

  For the first time, she looked caught off guard by him.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bar. Down the street. Neon sign. Be there in an hour,” he instructed.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to be there.”

  He watched a blush rise in her cheeks. She was so fair. Much too pure to be in a place like Monrovia, Liberia.

  “Do you think that’s -” she began to counter. He covered the rest of the distance between them, pressing his chest to hers.

  “It wasn’t a question,” he growled. She licked her lips and nodded, her fingers raising to toy with the straps on his vest.

  “Okay. Okay, Marc. I’ll be there. One hour,” she breathed.

  He couldn’t resist. She was too sexy. He was too amped up. He lowered his mouth to kiss her again, but the door behind him suddenly opened.

  “Oh my. I am interrupting?”

  Marc turned his head to the side, actually growling a little. Ivanov stood in the doorway, staring at them. He eyeballed them carefully.

  “One hour,” Marc said to Lily. She nodded.

  “I did not know you two were such good friends,” Ivanov commented in a snide voice.

  Marc didn’t say a word. The contract was completed, he owed nothing to that Bratva anymore, owed no respect to that man. He glared one more time, then walked out of the room.

  What a fucked up night.

  DAY ZERO

  As Marc walked out of the room, Lily turned back to Ivanov.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” she asked. She felt short of breath. Marc had never had that effect on her before, but since he’d kissed her earlier, she felt like she hadn’t been able to catch her breath once.

  Focus, Liliana. Eyes on the prize. Just because you haven’t had sex in almost a year doesn’t mean anything. Just because the sexiest guy you’ve ever met clearly wants to bang you seven ways to Sunday doesn’t mean anything.

  “You and Marcelle are very good friends, yes?” Ivanov inquired. Lily shrugged.

  “Not really.”

  “Just now you looked like very good friends.”

  “We looked like two people who want to have sex with each other, that’s it,” she was blunt. “What do you want?” Ivanov heaved a big laugh.

  “I love your mouth, Liliana! I will miss it,” he sighed.

  “Look, I’m going. I’ll be back in the morning,” she snapped, making a move to leave.

  “Liliana!”

  She turned back.

  “You will not come here tomorrow,” he informed her. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “We will come to you with goods and supplies. Stay in your hotel. Do not open door for anyone. Not anyone but me. Do you understand?”

  She was shocked. As far as she knew, Ivanov never left the safe house. But she didn’t question it. It was too big a job and she’d been planning for too long to mess anything up.

  “I understand. No one.”

  “Alright. I will be at your door, at 0600 hours,” he reminded her.

  “0600.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lily hurried out of the anteroom, then bolted through the house. Her talk with Ivanov hadn’t lasted very long and the house was large, Marc could still be in it. She dashed through hallways, pushed her way through a rowdy crowd of prostitutes. When she finally got outside, she could see him, but he was pretty far away. A tiny figure at the very end of the street, a duffle bag swinging at his side.

  She chewed on her lip. It was stupid. She had a mission, something she had to do. Something she needed to do. Something she had been planning for five years. She couldn’t risk ruining it all by chasing after a boy. She couldn’t …

  “Hey! Open the gate!” she started shouting, turning to the gated driveway that sat next to the safe house.

  Something about him. For five years, she’d focused only on her goal. Men didn’t even enter the picture, she wasn’t looking, at all. Sex was a weapon, to be used just as quickly and readily as she would use a gun. A woman from America didn’t get to be a transporter for Oleg Ivanov overnight. She’d had to climb and crawl and claw her way to that position. She’d had to do some things she wasn’t exactly proud of.

  Maybe it was time to reward herself.

  She slid behind the wheel and turned the engine. The car she’d been given, the one she’d been driving around Liberia for a month, was a 1977 Mercedes. A little beat up looking, a little rough around the edges, it had clearly had a tough life. But it got the job done, and really, the worse it looked, the better. She didn’t need any extra attention, considering what she’d be moving in a couple hours.

  By the time Lily pulled out onto the street, he was out of sight. She got to where she’d last seen him, and it turned out to be a cross street. Again, she could make out his form in the distance. He’d taken a left, and she followed, but before she got halfway down the street, he took another left. When she got to that street, he’d disappeared.

  Maybe he thought I was one of the gang members, following him?

  There was a boarding house of sorts, towards the end of the block, and Lily figured it was her best bet. She was surprised that he was staying so close to the safe house, but then again, maybe that had been the idea. Anyone looking for him and guessing he was working with the Bratva would never think to look so close. She parked the car and hurried as she went into the large building.

  “Hello?” she called into an entry way. It looked like someone’s home. There were a multitude of people lounging about the living room, all of them watching an old black and white television. Without looking away from the screen, an old woman got up and walked towards Lily.

  “Room?” she asked, still watching TV.

  “No. I’m looking for my friend, he -” Lily started.

  “Third floor, third room on right. You stay longer than two hours, I charge extra,” the woman warned her.

  “Sounds fair to me.”

  Lily slowly made her way up to his room. She didn’t want to come off as too eager. They’d been playing cat and mouse for a month, under the assumption neither would get caught. Now that it was time to eat, she wasn’t quite ready to be the mouse.

  The door to the third room on the right wasn’t locked. She was cautious as she opened the door, but the first thing she saw was the black duffle bag he’d taken off
with, followed by the clothing he’d been wearing. She moved into the room and shut the door behind her.

  She could hear water splashing around in the bathroom, so she took her time, looking over the space he’d been living in for the past month. It was simple. A room. A bed that was little more than a cot. A small table. One small chair. There had been electricity downstairs, but there didn’t seem to be any in his room. Three mismatched, stout candles were burning on the table, and those were the only light source.

  The sound of water diminished to just a gurgling drain, so she made her way back towards the bathroom. Just as she grasped the knob, she felt it turn from the other side and the door started to pull away. She smiled.

  Samesies.

  She lost her smile the same moment a hand wrapped around her neck. She let out a shriek as she was yanked around and slammed against a wall. The hand was replaced by a forearm, a much more effective body part for choking someone. She gritted her teeth, slapping at the arm that was restraining her.

  “It’s me! It’s me!”

  Marc looked surprised. And angry. He backed off a little and she sucked in gasps of air. His forearm moved to her collarbone, still holding her in place against the wall. She glared right back at him, resisting the urge to plant her knee in his testicles.

  “What the fuck are you doing here!? How did you find me!?” he demanded, then his eyes darted around the room, as if he thought she’d brought people with her.

  “You weren’t exactly hard to follow, you idiot. You walked here,” she growled.

  “I thought you were talking with Ivanov.”

  “I was. It wasn’t a very long conversation.”

  “I told you I don’t let anyone know where I sleep,” he reminded her, his voice low.

  “Well, I didn’t come here with any intentions of sleeping, so we’re still good.”

  That got through to him and he finally smiled at her. The pressure from his arm let up, but he leaned more of his body against her, lining them up from the hips down.

  “I told you to meet me at a bar,” he pointed out, lowering his head to brush his cheek against the side of hers, then dipping down to rub against her neck. She heard a sharp inhale, like he was smelling her.

  “Sometimes I’m not very good at listening.”

  “I have to be out of here in a couple hours.”

  “I only need a couple hours.”

  “That’s it? I had such high hopes for you.”

  She snorted and moved her hands to his waist, yanking his towel away.

  “And I had high hopes that your mouth would be good for something other than talking. So far, it’s a disappointment.”

  His lips met hers in a way that made their first kiss seem like a church greeting. His tongue was present and forceful in her mouth, his hands moving to press heavily against her breasts. She moaned, reveling in the feeling of being touched. Of actually wanting to be touched.

  She scratched her nails along his hips and went to dip down between them, but he was quicker and he grabbed her wrists, slamming her arms against the wall above her head. She gasped and automatically tried to resist, but he just squeezed tighter, pushed harder. Cat and mouse was over, the roles had been established. If he didn’t want her to move, then she wasn’t going to be able to move.

  Does that mean I’m in the mouse trap?

  He let her go, but only so he could grab her ass, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, toeing off her shoes as he carried her to the bed. She went to peel off her shirt, but he grabbed her by the hips and literally tossed her onto the mattress. She bounced a little, and before she could get her bearings, Marc was kneeling over her.

  “God, do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this,” he groaned. He pulled the bottom of her tank top away from her body, then ripped it clean up the middle. She sat up, helping him shove the material away from her shoulders.

  “Oh yeah? How many times?” she whispered, leaning close and sucking on his earlobe.

  “All the time.”

  “In this bed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mmmm, you pictured this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you ever -”

  “Stop talking.”

  He didn’t rip her pants like her shirt, but he didn’t waste any time when he pulled them free from her body, either. Then he licked and nibbled his way up the insides of her thighs. When he got to her panties he didn’t bother with them at all, just pressed his tongue against her center, as hard as he could.

  “Ooohhh, wow,” she breathed out, combing her fingers through his hair while her eyes rolled back.

  Reality was too real. Or not real enough. She could never be sure anymore. Living a lie for five years, it all got confusing. Life was shit. This felt like heaven. She didn’t care that tomorrow meant war. Right now, she was in a little piece of oblivion. That’s all she needed.

  The friction of the lace against her slickness was almost too much. His tongue had barely done anything and she was panting sharply, whining in the back of her throat, almost yipping. Her fingers in his hair turned to clutching. Then pulling. Her thighs tightened around his head.

  How long since your last orgasm? Since the last time you had sex with someone you wanted to have sex with? This might stop your heart …

  “Talk about high strung, sweetheart,” Marc teased her as he pulled away at a critical moment. She cried out in annoyance and tried to push him back down.

  “What’s that supposed to mean!?” she snapped as he evaded her hand, kissing his way up her stomach

  “It means if all women came as easily as you were about to, life would be so much easier.”

  “Not our fault if you’re normally not very good at this.”

  His hand slid under her bra and squeezed her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple hard. She shrieked, giving a whole body shudder.

  “No one’s ever taught you how to behave right, have they?”

  Her bra was shoved out of the way, and while she worked at taking it off, he moved back to her underwear. Gripped the material between two fists, then yank, and there was nothing left. He was kneeling between her legs and she sat up quickly, gripping his waist as she kissed his skin. Worked her way across his chest. His hands went into her hair, pulling her ponytail down. He kept the auburn locks in one fist, tugging just enough to let her know he was still in charge.

  If there was no tomorrow, then Lily wanted to get to know as much of right-now-Marc as she could, wanted to take her time, but he had other plans. He let go of her hair and gripped her shoulders, shoving her back down onto the mattress. One of his hands gripped her thigh and the other worked between them. He was bold, he kept eye contact as he pushed inside of her. She wanted to be his equal, wanted to be better, wanted to stare him down. But as inch after inch went by, she couldn’t handle it. No one could be equal to that much intensity, to that much length, to that much him. Her eyes fluttered shut, her hands running down her body, her nails scratching at her thighs.

  “Why didn’t we do this a month ago?” Lily sighed, when he was finally as inside of her as he could ever be.

  “Then it wouldn’t be such a treat for you now. See? Being nice to me pays off.”

  “We’ll see.”

  When a person met Marc for the first time, the only word that ever came to mind was “rough”. He looked like a rough guy. He was an interesting sort of handsome. Not conventional. A nose that had clearly been broken at one point, a small scar on the side of his chin. He was also tall, but not overwhelmingly so. Maybe six foot. He had brown hair and a deep tan, like he’d been left out in the sun for days. It made his soft blue eyes really pop. On top of all that, he had thick arms, a solid build, and a penchant for cussing and getting angry – “rough” pretty much described him to a T.

  So it wasn’t a shock that sex with him turned out to be rough, as well.

  As his hips pummeled her own, she didn’t have time to think a
bout how rough he was with her. He was pounding common sense and basic reasoning skills out of her. He had a way of hooking his hips, a fluid motion where he pulled away so he almost slid out, then slammed every inch home, but fast. So fast.

  Her back began to arch, her whole body trying to reach for heaven. Reach for bliss. She cupped her breasts, holding them as they were also pushed higher and higher. Then she felt his hand in the middle of her chest and he shoved down sharply, forcing her flat. His hand stayed in place, pressing so hard she couldn’t even move underneath it.

  “Where you trying to go, sweetheart? You’re all mine tonight,” he growled, leaning down close as his hips picked up speed.

  “Yes. All night. Please, all night,” she echoed. His hand finally moved off her chest and he gripped her jaw, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he forced her to face him.

  “Think you can handle a whole night of this?”

  “I think I’d like to try.”

  He stopped moving, utterly shocking her. It was like he took away her oxygen. She was still searching for air when he took hold of her leg, moving it around to the other side of his body, forcing her onto her side. Figuring she knew what he wanted, she hiked her leg up, ready to move onto her knees, but he ignored her. Both of his hands held onto her hip and he was able to pound into her with an even greater force. She shrieked, gripping onto the edge of the mattress, holding on for dear life.

  “Goddamn, Lily. Fuck. Fuck,” he groaned.

  She felt like she had completely lost any kind of control, impaled on an impossibly huge dick, being fucked like she was being punished for something. It was the best feeling ever. She laid her cheek against the mattress, hiking her hips up a little higher. She had no leverage, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do in return, but she could give him every inch of her. Try and prolong his pleasure as much as possible.

  All night, he said.

  Then she felt him lean over her again, his hand sliding over her hip, following the curve to the front of her body. His chest made contact with her back at the same time his fingers made contact with wetness. His free arm went across her shoulder blades, his hand holding onto her shoulder, and he used her as an anchor. Used her own body to allow him to jackhammer his hips against her ass while his fingers taught her exactly who was in control.