by Nicole Snow
“Is that it? Are we finished?”
Hell fucking no.
I dove for the ground and moved towards her. Damned near took the same stance I did when some bastard was sending bullets my way. My hands were on her thighs before she knew what hit her.
One fist caught her panties and took them the rest of the way down. Then I reached up, grabbing for her breasts, squeezing tight to hold her in place as my face went right between her thighs.
Sweetest woman I ever tasted. No fucking joke.
My tongue worked overtime. I licked and sucked and held her clit between my teeth, parting her folds, opening her up just for me.
These were parts of her that motherfucker would never see, smell, or taste, soft wet silk that belonged to me.
“Evan! God!” I loved that little duo she spat when pleasure took her over.
For all intents and purposes, I was fucking sovereign over her flesh, owning her as much as I unraveled her. I licked deep in her folds, circling her nipples in a double pinch, striking with a fury I wouldn't stop 'til she came all over me.
Come on, babe. Wanna inhale your fucking ecstasy. Wanna feel you melt in my mouth.
Her little moans grew more ragged, desperate for release. I dug in, rubbing my chin in her center, every prickle of my stubble a surprise on her thighs and ass and pussy. She tried to squirm away from me, but it didn't work with my hands squeezing blood out of her breasts.
“Oh. My. God. Evan, I'm going to –“
I wanted to hear her say come, but her body did all the talking instead. Her thighs rippled on both sides of my head and her hips jerked, surrendering to my mouth, riding my face. I dug deeper, deeper, beating her little clit with my tongue, perfectly timed to her spasms.
We could work on her dirty talk later. Having her sweet cunt convulse on my flesh was enough for now, plenty to satisfy the beast inside me, the rabid darkness that wanted to claim her ass forever.
Come, Cassie, come. Understand I'm never giving you up with every fucking spasm. Tell me you're mine each time you buck your pink perfect pussy on my lips.
Good girl. Very good girl.
She was breathless and shaking when the brute spasms stopped. I gently let her breasts go. The moan-whimper-cry that left her lips was adorable and harsh. Hit my cock like sweet fingers running across it and giving it a good squeeze.
No doubt about this shit. There was no stopping for any rest.
I grabbed the narrow wood on each side of her and hoisted myself up. My jeans and boxers went down while she was struggling for breath, delicious in the wake of the fire we'd shared.
My dick needed a wet, warm hole. And it needed it right now, or else I was gonna go off like a goddamned bomb.
“Spread your legs, beautiful. Forget about those fucking pictures. I'm gonna fuck 'em out of your brain, and out of mine too.”
One push, and I was in. She took it better than last night when I broke her in, but she was just as tight as ever, tight and hot and full of flesh sucking at my cock.
Fuck! The tornado inside me peaked. It picked my hips up and slammed them into her, shaking the windows behind us. It was like the whole earth outside trembled as I fucked her, filling her with raw passion and heat, my arms locked around her back to pull her close.
My hips drove between her legs again and again, grinding her sweet clit when I swept low. Cassie's lips opened. She rested her chin on my shoulder, and somehow found the strength to kiss at my neck, stamping her fever just above my tats.
“Ah, fuck!” I groaned, pure fire licking my balls. No fucking way was I gonna last forever at this rate.
Fortunately, neither was she. I didn't have to ask when her cunt tightened up around my cock and began to quiver. I threw myself in her as hard and deep as I could go and blew.
“Keep coming, babe. Lose your fucking mind on this dick the way I'm losing mine!” Words became impossible.
My balls tensed up and let loose. Blazing hot come ripped up and shot out my cock, filling her completely, fast and relentless. I never came so much in my whole damned life.
I heaved my come into her. Burning her, marking her, welding her to my flesh.
When the maelstrom finally eased up, we hugged her face to my chest, straining for breath with my face over her head.
We had to figure something out. There had to be a way to kill that motherfucker and right my wrongs. She leaned up, new energy in her, and kissed my lips with surprising force.
My cock barely stayed down with the lust I tasted. I was carrying her to my bed for another mad fuck when the light bulb went on in my head.
The idea was so insane and dangerous and promising it hit hard, nearly splintering my fucking skull.
Shit! Why hadn't I thought of it before?
Soon as I fucked her into sweet dreams and pumped another load deep inside her, I had work to do.
It wasn't perfect. In fact, it was pretty damned dangerous.
But what the fuck wasn't in this hell I'd created for myself and so many others?
Subtlety and infiltration was secondary to rock hard power, and I'd overlooked it. I did spy shit as much as I needed to get my target, and then send him to a bloody death. I'd been used to guns blazing, knives stabbing, and people screaming for the better part of a decade. I treated my weapons with the same respect I gave my own son, and they repaid me a thousand times over in kind.
This shit stumped me from the beginning because the traditional weapons wouldn't work. The thing I needed all along to eviscerate Borzia and hit the fuck when he was down was right in front of me.
Cassie.
One special kiss from my girl would send the Mexican and all my fucking problems to a well deserved grave, if she was wearing the right stuff.
I'd seen it years ago in Brazil. Some brilliant Russian bastard mixed some poison from the jungle with modern science and took out the bastard the cartel wanted whacked before I could put my bullet through his skull. It was the first and only time somebody else had beaten me to the job.
Anybody dumb enough to make enemies with Mexican thugs and former KGB mobsters didn't have a goddamned chance. But that was beside the point.
I barged in on the Brazilian when he was half-naked on his balcony, a long legged brunette bitch wrapped around his waist. She looked at me over his shoulder, smiling in the night, breaking the deep kiss a second later.
The woman whispered something into his ear and slipped past, making her way into his apartment. I had my gun drawn, questioning whether she'd truly seen me. If she had, the bitch must've really hated his ass, because she knew I wasn't there to serve them ice cream.
I got two steps into his suite when he retched. Two steps closer, and he was on the ground, clawing at his chest. When I finally stood over the bastard, gun pressed to his cold temple, he was dead. Dead pleas shined in his huge mackerel eyes; too little, too late.
Nothing but a hint of smeared purple lipstick on the corner of his mouth ever said she'd been there. I wheeled around and ran for the girl, but she was gone without a trace. I dabbed up the residue on his mouth and sent it off to the cartel for testing.
She'd layered a powerful fucking poison on her lips with some kinda silicon gloss. Left the Russian babe free to knock men on their lifeless asses without batting an eye. Meanwhile, the same shit that came outta some rainforest frogs went into their blood. It was lights out before they knew what hit 'em.
I'd taken the liberty of storing the shit in thin capsules I kept in my gun vault ever since I got the details. Fat chance I'd ever put it on myself and seduce some babe or bastard – I didn't wrap tongues with dudes – but the stuff was too wild to pass up.
It was sexy in a this will snuff you out kinda way, and something I'd prepared as a half-forgotten “just in case.”
Until now.
I ripped the vault open and studied the capsules. They came in pairs, silicon formula and poison, screwing out like lipstick when they were ready to apply. The poison shit was marked in bright
red so it went on last.
Borzia's tech assured me the shit would last for years, safe as any commercial brand as long as the protective coating was applied first. Guess they'd tested it on some poor bastards and their sisters who owed a heavy debt to the cartel. It worked.
My heart was fucking pounding as I turned the packet over and over in the light. It didn't take much. The damned things looked like any old gel caps in their packets, ready to pluck out and apply as needed.
This is it. This is your way out.
Elegant as the solution seemed, it also sent harsh anger surging through my blood. Poisoning the fuck breathing down my neck was perfect except for three little things.
One: Cassie would have to get close to the fuck and actually kiss him.
Two: Cassie would have to kiss him, Miguel Borzia, the demon I hated more than any other person on the whole fucking planet.
Three: The job wasn't done when he dropped dead. I had to get my son out first, and then Cassie.
Saving both their asses demanded perfect timing. Couldn't waste a single precious second.
Showing up too early meant I was dead. His men wouldn't hesitate to shoot if I reappeared for any reason after the deal went down. Showing up too late meant she was dead or worse – his guards would only be stunned by the body for a minute before they went for revenge.
I lowered my head. Fiery blood roared, roasting my ears. I clutched the capsule packet like it held million dollar diamonds.
God had to be a gambler. This wasn't the miracle I thought it was before I screwed Cassie to a blissful sleep and did my homework.
This was nothing but a way to roll the dice, but it was the only way I had.
“Poison? Jesus, Evan, are you serious?” She bolted up in the black leather chair in my sitting room, eyes wide and dancing with disbelief.
I explained everything and she listened patiently 'til the very end. Not an easy lecture. The girl had been listening to other assholes give the orders her whole life, and I was one more bulldog barking in her face, even if I did it more nicely than her asshole father and the other shits in the cult.
“I wouldn't have told you if I wasn't. Never been much of a fucking comedian.” I leaned forward in my matching seat, hands clawing at the armrests. “Listen, babe, you don't have to do this. Just asking makes me want to start punching my own damned face. I swore I'd never put you in danger, but now this shit's making me ruin my promise. I'm not telling you to do a damned thing...I'm asking for your help.”
She didn't blink. Slowly, she climbed out of the chair and moved across the floor, stooped over. Her arms went around my neck and she looked at me from the ground. The look she gave me went through my heart like a hot poker.
“I wasn't joking either when I tried to make my offer. You know it stands. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. I trust you.” She swallowed, running her hand over my face. “If I've figured out anything by now, it's that there's no real choice.”
Anger exploded in my brain. “What the fuck are you talking about, babe? I'm giving you one right now!”
“You mean I should let your son die and have these men come after us anyway? That's what you're asking me to do if I don't agree. That's no choice.”
I was about to speak when she leaned in, butting her forehead against mine. “And I'm okay with that. If you and the Prophet and this whole damned thing have taught me anything, it's that free will is crap. It's an illusion. God makes the roads we take clear, clear and settled as the streams in the forest. It's up to us to cross them with our bare feet and hope there's nothing sharp at the bottom.”
I looked at her, holding in the rage. “How the fuck do you make so much sense?”
“I guess heartache gives a girl some valuable lessons.” She shrugged. “Now, sir, please show me how to put this stuff on without killing myself.”
Against all reason, I grinned. Maybe she hadn't learned to talk dirty like I did yet, but the girl knew how to speak my language.
I stood, embracing her as tight as I could, stopping just short of a kiss. If I did that, my cock wouldn't let me do this without another romp.
I had to reign his ass in, same as my brain's sick thoughts about all the things that could go wrong. There was no turning back.
We were really gonna do this, and I was going to bring everybody in my family home.
Everyone. Izzy, Ty, and Cassie included.
“I fucking love you, babe. You know that?”
She answered me with a kiss, the kiss I had to resist. Fuck if I could. We had work to do, but I allowed myself this tiny pleasure, no matter how much lust came with it.
I'd remember these lips forever, even if the next couple days took me to my grave.
XI: Strike Me Down (Cassie)
In the old days, I would've prayed. But I didn't know where to send my prayers anymore. I refused to give them to the cruel God worshiped by the Prophet, the god who would've cursed me three times to my grave without Evan's deliverance.
Had a different being saved me? Maybe. And maybe I could believe it if I survived this.
It was a long drive down to the little towns near the border. Almost ten hours. We took Izzy's SUV for comfort, ridding easier over the rugged terrain that started after LA. The land grew sparser, and there were no more rolling forests in sight like the kind I was used to in NorCal.
The land was long dormant. Arid, desolate, dead.
“Here. The villa's just past this ranch.” Evan's eyes flicked up to the mirror to look at me in the backseat.
I nodded, solemn and ready. Well, ready as I'd ever be for getting passed off to yet another monster.
I was careful not to bite my lip. He assured me over and over that the deadly coating was applied perfect, but I wasn't taking any chances.
“I'm telling you, Evan, if anything happens to her, I'm holding your ass responsible.” Izzy looked at him from the passenger seat, daggers in her eyes.
She joined us after he explained the plan, passing my sister off to temporary care with a nurse she trusted. Honestly, she was more worried than I was, asking me every hundred miles if I really wanted to do this.
I did. I had to.
“The girl's not stupid. She knew what she was getting into when we agreed to set this shit up. Better shut your fucking mouth, and I'll shut mine.” His words rumbled with warning. “We don't need any bullshit right now. No arguments. I need you to look alert, get my boy in the truck, and drive. Let me off at this mark and keep on going. If you don't hear from me in the next ten hours, you just keep going, and don't stop 'til you hit the Canadian border.”
From the side, resistance and discord lined Izzy's face. But she didn't mutter another word.
The whole landscape dropped into shadows. Our SUV rolled on down the unpaved road, up and down bumps that rattled my stomach.
“How're we doing?” He was looking at me in the mirror again.
“Good as can be. Ready to get this over with.” I barely recognized my own voice, so dull and calm. Numb, just like my nerves.
They'd shorted out early on the drive, and I didn't worry anymore. Fate was in control. If him and I were meant to be, then I'd come out alive. If we weren't, then at least I'd sacrificed myself for an innocent child. At least I'd done something good with my rotten life.
He managed a tiny smile. Tight, yet infinitely grateful, mirroring the same fears and hopes I had about the future in one pale line.
“There! Right where the asshole said he'd be.” His voice lowered. “Okay, ladies. Look alive.”
I leaned forward and saw the big white BMW through the windshield. A man was standing up, looking out the sun roof with binoculars the way I saw soldiers in old photos steering a tank.
Our SUV ground to a halt and stopped about twenty feet away. The white car's doors popped open.
Neat dressed men with cinnamon brown skin and hard faces stepped out the back. At first, I thought one of them was Borzia, but they were too uniform, too bored looking with t
he whole exchange.
A lighter skinned man slid out the left side. His suit was clearly a higher grade, white like it had been tailored from pure ivory. And his face...everything about it was cold and dead. Everything except the eyes, boring straight through the car and past my skin, down to bone.
I forgot to breathe when it was my turn to get out. Izzy and Evan were already outside, waiting impatiently. My hand shook as I gripped the handle, undid my seat belt, and slid out.
Taking several tentative steps to Evan's side, I reached out to take his hand. My insides lurched as he began to lead me toward the men waiting between our vehicles. Four demons circling their master, plus one little boy.
Ty was just as small and helpless as I imagined. He was in a little white suit that matched Borzia's. I wondered if it was a sick joke.
If it was, the look in Evan's face said the point was made. The boy's face looked dumbly at his father for a second, and then lit up. His little feet clattered on the ground and he began to run toward us, but one of the Mexicans quickly snatched him back with a cruel flick of the wrist.
“Daddy!”
Evan's face went red. He didn't shout, didn't scream, didn't draw the silver gun I knew he had stuffed in a holster near his hip. He was eerily calm as the crime boss and two bodyguards approached.
Borzia didn't even look at him except for a quick glance. His eyes were on me, painfully heavy.
Don't look away. Don't look away. Don't look –
“This is her?” He spoke with the faintest foreign accent, an intensity on each syllable that betrayed the bored impression he was trying to give. “A little shorter than I imagined.”
“I want my son,” Evan said coldly.
His fingers incrementally tightened on my palm, and it had gotten so tense I nearly cried out. Message received. He wanted Ty so bad, but it was killing him to let go of me, to pass me to this devil.
God, I would've given anything just to share one more look with him right then, even though I knew it would've been totally devastating.
Instead, I was drowning in Borzia's pitch black pupils, eyes that opened wide and devoured. Without breaking his dead eyed gaze, he nodded.