I want to go through with this before I change my mind. While he hikes my shirt up to my waist and pushes my panties to the side, I unzip his pants and pull out the snake. He’s already hard, and throbbing in my hand. Snake presses me harder against the wall, then shoves his cock inside of me. We fuck frantically. Fresh adrenaline courses through me again, and is released by a powerful orgasm that makes my muscles quake.
Snake’s breath is hot and heavy against my ear. His fingers dig into my flesh as he grips my ass. He bites my earlobe, groaning.
In our haste, we’d neglected to even think about condoms. Snake pulls out of me at the last second, spurting on my inner thighs. He rests his forehead on my shoulder, catching his breath. For a moment, I feel relieved, I feel free. But it doesn’t last long. I stare up at the ceiling. The mobster is still pinning me to the wall. I can feel his spent cock dangling between my legs.
This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the plan at all. I can’t lie to myself any longer. I want Snake, as much as he wants me.
Snake lifts up his head, nuzzling his nose against my cheek.
“So much for one and done, huh?” he says with a laugh. He backs up, putting the Snake away, then checking his tie in the mirror.
I look at him, really look at him. The slope of his nose, the angles of his body, the darkness in his eyes, the way he makes me feel when he’s pressed up against me; I know I can’t resist any of it, not any longer. As long as I’m around Snake, I’ll want him, crave him. And I’ve already failed at resisting those urges.
What would Jake think of me?
Chapter Seventeen
Snake
When we walk out of the bathroom, Toby is typing furiously while Bruno stands close by. Bruno nods at me with a smirk. He knows what we were up to. Jess’ hair is a little more disheveled than before we went into the bathroom, but other than that, she doesn’t give anything away. Her heels click against the floor as she approaches Toby. With her hand on her hip, she watches him work.
“That’s good, Toby.” Her tone is assertive, but with a hint of softness. “Make sure you cover your tracks. No one can find out where the money is being sent. You can do that, right?”
Toby nods nervously, then quickly gets back to typing. Jess is all business in her heels, black skirt, and blouse. It gives me a certain satisfaction to know what she’s hiding underneath, those delicious curves and creamy skin, the way she gets soaked in an instant. I wonder if that’s the way she’s always been, or if it’s just for me. From the way she’s sneaking glances at me, I can tell that Jess is finally coming to terms with her feelings for me. I catch her eye and give her a wink. Her cheeks flush red, and she quickly looks away.
“We should be getting back,” Jess says, checking her watch. “That’s a good start, Toby. You can work on it more this evening.”
Toby looks at Bruno and I warily before packing up his laptop and scrambling to his feet. I have to think fast. I don’t want to leave Jess yet, not after what just happened. I don’t want things to be awkward like the last time. This is my chance. I was just inside of her, for Christ’s sake, she must be at least a little soft on me.
The three of us head downstairs. When we pass the counter, Rick calls out to us. He holds up a white paper bag.
“Order’s ready,” he says to Jess.
Jess takes the bag, and starts to open her purse. I stop her, and throw a twenty on the counter. Jess mumbles “thanks” at her feet.
“Toby,” Jess says, making him jump. She dangles the bag in the air. “Do you want your sandwich?”
Toby shakes his head while scurrying back, nearly knocking over a display of marinara sauce. “I’m not hungry,” he stutters.
I step closer to Jess. Her eyes dart around like a trapped animal. I bend down to talk into her ear.
“Blow off work,” I whisper. Her spine straightens with a shiver. “Let’s go somewhere peaceful and enjoy those sandwiches.”
“What about Toby?” she asks. “I need to take him back.”
“I can get an Uber,” Toby says, eagerly. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, only to drop it, then picks it up again.
“You make sure he does,” I say to Bruno. I toss him my keys. “You take my car. I’m going with Jess.”
Bruno gives a salute, and a lopsided grin, before escorting Toby outside. In Jess’ car, I give her directions to a quiet little spot I know, by the cliffs at the beach. She does what I say quietly, no resistance, no fighting, no attitude. This is a good sign. But she doesn’t seem entirely thrilled. There’s a slow sadness to her movements.
It’s a little chilly for a beach day. The salty air wind whips around us. Jess hugs herself, shivering as we make our way to the shore. I slip my arm around her shoulders.
“Come here,” I whisper, pulling her closer.
Jess hesitates for a split second, then sidles up to me. I wrap my arms tighter around her. Eventually, her shivering begins to subside.
The beach is empty, except for a few surfers far out in the water. We choose a patch of even sand and sit down. Jess draws her knees against her chest, making her seem smaller. I pull off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. She looks out at the waves crashing against the jutting rocks.
“It’s so strange,” Jess says, dreamily. “The ocean is beautiful, yet incredibly dangerous at the same time.”
“That’s what I like about it,” I say, handing her a sandwich.
We eat quietly for a while, watching the surfers in the distance. I’m not sure what I should do here. I want to grab her, pull her into my lap, and let her know that she belongs to me now. I decide on a different approach.
“So, you were engaged,” I say.
Jess stops chewing. Her face scrunches as she gets a little cagey. “Yes.”
I rake my fingers through my hair. “I’m, uh, sorry for your loss.”
She jerks her head towards me. “Don’t trouble yourself by being sorry. Are you sorry for all the deaths the Mariano’s have caused, all the grieving people left behind?” She wraps up her sandwich and tosses it to the side. “It’s not like it changes anything anyway.” She sighs, then buries her face in her hands.
“You’re right.” I move closer to her, putting a comforting hand on her back. Her chest expands, like she’s fighting back a sob. Behind her hands, she begins to speak.
“Jake was a real estate developer. I had a feeling that his business wasn’t entirely legal. He never told me anything, and I turned a blind eye.” She raises her head in frustration. “I should’ve made him tell me, I should’ve done something.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to implicate you,” I offer.
Jess shakes her head, bitterly. “No. He didn’t want me meddling in his business. He didn’t want me telling him not to do something. He didn’t think a woman had any place in his affairs. So, I didn’t. And he rewarded me by showering me with gifts.” She pauses for a moment, trailing her fingertips in the sand.
“Did you love him?” I ask, carefully.
She glares at me, offended at first, then her face softens. She shrugs. “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe I just loved the life he afforded me. I thought it was love at the time. But now-” She stops herself, curling her fists with new rage. “But that’s not the point. Jake’s not the only person I lost. After his death, I went into a deep depression. I’ve always had a taste for alcohol, but it got really, really bad. I was drinking from the moment I got up in the morning until late at night. I barely ate. Never left the house. One day, I got sick of it. I got in my car, and smashed it into a concrete wall.”
“Jesus,” I say, under my breath. “Was it a, um, accident?”
“I’m not sure,” Jess says. “To this day, I’m not sure. Remember, I was fucking wasted at the time. When I woke up in the hospital, they informed me that I was four weeks pregnant. I lost the baby in the wreck.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just hold her in my arms. With her angry veneer stripped away, I see what she’s been
hiding, real sadness. I rarely think about the consequences of our brutal actions. Right now, I can’t look away.
“Everything tumbled out of control,” Jess says, shaking her head. “My entire life, I’ve been comfortable. I had everything I could ever want. And I couldn’t imagine things any other way. Until now. The only thing that brought me out of depression was the thought of making Monty pay for what he did.”
“And you think that killing Monty will do what, exactly?” I ask. “You’ll magically feel better?” Jess tenses under my arm, but I don’t pull away. “Jake wanted this action. He accepted the risks, just like the rest of us. None of us expect to see the sun rise the next morning.” I grab her chin, pulling her face towards me. “Don’t think about the future, or the past. Think about right now.”
Jess searches my face intently. I lean in to kiss her. At the last moment, she jerks her head away.
“What am I doing here?” she says, backing away from me, and getting to her feet. “What am I doing with you? I don’t know what kind of a person I am. This is all wrong.”
She turns and walks away. I’m not letting her leave that easily. I jump to my feet and run after her. I grab her arm, yanking her towards me. She tries to get away, but I tighten my grip. I pull her against my chest, making her look at me.
“He’s dead, Jess,” I say in a low growl. “I’m sorry about everything you went through. But you’re still here. A fucking concrete wall couldn’t take you out.” I press my hand against her thumping heart. “You’re living and breathing. And so am I.” I press against her, consumed by my need for her. “I want you. Not once, not twice, but for the rest of my fucking life. I can give you everything Jake did, and more. And we’d be in it together. We could rule together.”
Jess blinks up at me, then squirms, trying to get away. I hold fast to her waist.
“Stop fighting,” I demand. “Stop worrying if this is right or wrong. When it feels this good, who gives a fuck?”
I’m tired of talking. I clasp her face, and kiss her deeply on the lips. Jess’ tension begins to melt. I feel it, the moment she gives in. Her arms grow slack, then she clings to my waist like I’m the only thing holding her up.
*
That night, Jess doesn’t make me sleep on the couch. After fucking her for the second time that day, we fall asleep together, in her bed. Sometime during the night, I wake up to take a piss. I untangle my arms from around Jess, and take a moment to watch her sleeping face.
In the bathroom, I hear a strange noise coming from the air conditioner vent. It sounds like it’s clogged up or something. I tell myself I’ll check it in the morning, but I know it will just bother me all night. I crouch beneath the sink, take out the vent, and look to see what’s in there.
It’s a book of some kind, a thick book. I reach inside and pull it out. It’s a photo album. I flip through the pages. There are pictures of Jess, but she looks different. She’s smiling, and carefree. As I look further in the book, I see a picture of her with some guy. She’s holding up her hand, showing an engagement ring on her finger.
You must be Jake, I think, studying the guy. The more I look at him, the more I realize I recognize him. And then it hits me, that night, in the desert, when I finally got my first kill. That’s the face that looked up at me, dead and gray, while I sewed the lips together.
I snap the book closed and shove it back into the vent. “Fuck,” I whisper to myself, pacing around the bathroom. Monty gave the order, but I was the one who pulled the trigger. Well, her man was a fucking rat. He’s the one who talked to that reporter, and blew up our entire construction racket. Though I doubt that would matter much to Jess.
I creep back into the bedroom, and quietly get back into bed. Jess turns over in her sleep, slipping her arm around my waist. I had everything under control until now. What would Jess do if she knew I was the one who killed Jake? I don’t think she could ever forgive me.
I turn on my side, wrapping her tightly in my arms. That’s why she can never know. I’ll make her forget all about him. I’ll make her more money then she’ll ever know what to do with. I’ll fuck her senseless every chance I get, and one day, I’ll get her pregnant.
I just need to keep my secrets straight.
Chapter Eighteen
Jess
I never felt this way with Jake, this intense rush of warmth that invades my core whenever Snake is around. I fought it for so long, that when Snake finally unleashed it on the beach, I thought it would swallow me whole.
It’s early morning. I’m on the couch with the laptop, checking Toby’s work. Snake emerges from the bedroom, his usually perfect dark hair tousled with sleep, wearing nothing but a pair of designer boxer shorts. He stretches his arms above his head. The snake tattooed on his inner arm tantalizes my eyes. He smiles at me with a sleepy gaze, then saunters over to where I sit. His arms are warm as he wraps them around me. He kisses my neck, and then my lips, with a low growl rumbling in his throat. An erotic euphoria floods my lower half. Snake looks at me, biting his lower lip, then turns his gaze to the computer.
“How’s it look?” Snake asks.
“Good,” I say, choking back the quiver in my voice. “Toby’s got everything set up. The front and backend looks great. He’s covered his tracks nicely.”
Snake grabs my knee, then trails his hand up my thigh. “Now we just wait for the cash to roll in.”
I smirk at him, closing the laptop. “Some exciting lifestyle you lead. I might as well be in my office.”
Snake shrugs. “I didn’t need some fancy degree to get here.”
Snake goes to the kitchen to get coffee. I snatch a magazine from the coffee table, and flip through it. This issue is several months old. I’ve probably flipped through it dozens of times. I barely read the words.
I hear Snake in the kitchen, but I can also feel his presence. It’s a thick, dark, visceral energy that radiates from his powerful body. This is so much different than it was with Jake. My late fiancé was always busy, it seemed. He left for work very early in the morning, and came home late at night. I didn’t mind. I didn’t need to be around Jake all the time. And when he wasn’t around, I barely thought about him.
Snake is so different. Since I met him, he’s gotten under my skin. Even when I’m not with him, I feel him. And just the slightest look from Snake is enough to make me shiver. I knew it was there from the moment I met him. I thought I could push it down, fight it off. But Snake wouldn’t let me.
And the sex, it’s on another level. Jake and I had a regular sex life. He was a handsome man with a nice body and wholesome good looks, so I was attracted to him. But sex with him was like a duty, another item on the to-do list. When we finished, I never felt so much satisfied as I did accomplished.
With Snake, it’s not an obligation, it’s pure compulsion. My attraction to him is magnetic. And when we press our bodies together, it’s like our flesh merges together in hot, throbbing mass. His every touch threatens to shatter me. Every orgasm with him is a revelation.
I never questioned my love for Jake, until now. To the person I was back then, it didn’t matter if we didn’t have an all-consuming connection. Jake simply ticked all of my boxes; handsome, educated, and gainfully employed. That was all I needed at the time. But I’m not that person anymore.
I toss the magazine back on the coffee table, and walk into the kitchen. Snake’s back is to me as he examines the contents of the fridge. My eyes trail over the peaks and valleys of his muscular arms, his firm ass as it slopes into thick, rippled thighs.
I lean against the counter casually. “So if all we have to do is wait, I imagine you’ll be moving out soon.”
Snake chuckles into the fridge, then turns to me with a side-eyed gaze. “Nope.”
A warmth blooms in my chest. I want to ask if he’s staying with me because he’s still watching me, or because he wants to. The glint in his eyes tells me it’s the latter.
“Then what do you want for breakfast?” I ask.
Snake stands up straight, closing the refrigerator door. “What have you got?”
I open the cabinets, and see little more than an ancient box of microwave popcorn. “Nothing,” I report.
We go to a restaurant down the block that’s dressed up like a kitschy diner and serves things like avocado toast and kale omelets in true LA fashion. I decide I could use more green vegetables in my life, so I order both.
We chat while we wait for our food. Snake is always touching me in one way or another. Either he’s holding my hand, caressing my arm, or rubbing his foot against my leg. I know what he’s doing. He’s displaying his ownership over me, both to the other diners, and to myself. This should offend me, but it gives me a warm, safe feeling.
I cut into the avocado toast and take a bite. For a vegetable, it certainly is creamy and satisfying. I know the man in front of me on an intimate level, but there’s still so much more I don’t know. I decide to change that.
“So,” I start, glancing down at my omelette. “I gave you my sob story. Now you owe me yours.”
Snake stabs the stack of pancakes with his fork, leaning closer to me. “It’s like that, huh? Quid pro quo?”
“I’d like to know more about the man sharing my bed,” I say.
His eyes dart to the side. I can tell he’s not entirely comfortable talking about this. Well, tough shit. I told him about my dead fiancé, and he knows all about my failed attempt to avenge his death. I stare Snake down until he starts talking.
“I grew up in the boys’ home,” he says. “I was your cliched, dirty fucking street urchin. Running around, getting into trouble, fights, petty theft. Never could find any foster parents willing to take me on.”
Snake laughs at this, but I imagine him as a lost, feral child with anger boiling within him. He was probably mad at the world, and had no idea why. I reach across the table and grab his hand. For the first time in a long time, I’m not too wrapped up in my own misery to feel sympathy for another person.
Beware the Snake Page 10