The Good Girl In My Bed (Dangerous Desire Book 2)

by Lexxie Couper

I shrugged, grinning slowly at him. “It’s you and me, Rufie. This is what you wanted, after all. From the second we first met, you promised one day it would just be you and me. Today’s that day.”

  He came at me.

  I floored him with a turning kick to the temple.

  “You could have avoided this,” I said, circling him as he struggled onto his hands and knees. “You could have left me alone. Forgot I existed.”

  He scrambled at me, swinging his pipe at my legs. I smashed my foot into his cheek.

  “Your first mistake was killing Loco,” I went on, once again circling him. I noted none of his support crew were trying to take me out. None of them moved. They were too afraid of Lila and her high-powered sniper rifle, I suspect. If only they knew they were struck immobile with fear by a forty-five-year-old woman.

  Rufie threw himself at me again. I stopped his progress with a knee-strike up under his chin.

  “Fucker,” he yelled, blood and spit spraying from his lips.

  “Your second mistake was sending Grub to my home.” I stepped closer to him, my heart calm, my body thrumming. “But your biggest mistake was bringing Ronnie into this.” I drew my head down to his, fists balled. “I would have let you live if you hadn’t done that.”

  “I’m gonna fuck that cunt to death,” he snarled, glaring up at me. “After I’ve finished tearin’ you apart.”

  I grinned. “Let’s do this.”

  He threw himself at me.

  I heard more screams. More Trinity members collapsed to the floor, grown men crying and wailing like babies. From the corner of my eye, I saw others fleeing, running from the warehouse.

  And then I drilled my focus onto Rufie and got down to business.

  There’s a reason I’d made so much money on the underground MMA circuit. I’m unbeatable. I know how to fight. I fight dirty. I show no remorse or mercy. I hit with no regret and no compunction. And when my fist or my feet or shin or knee or elbow won’t do the job, I’ll use whatever I can.

  Underground mixed martial arts is not a gentleman’s sport. It’s a sport for those balancing on the edge of animalistic violence. I’ve walked that hairline edge for many years. It was only Ronnie—the knowledge someone like her was in my life—that saved me from falling into a dark abyss from which I’d never return.

  Rufie had dragged me back to that abyss. His threat to Ronnie, his promise of what he would do to her…

  Lila kept the fight between just him and me. We weren’t interrupted. I let him keep his pipe, the occasional blows he landed a reminder I still had the ability to feel something apart from cold fury and murderous hate.

  I toyed with him. I enjoyed it. I bathed in his pain and fear and flailing ego.

  When he managed to smash my jaw with the fucking thing, sending one of my molars flying from my bloody mouth, I withdrew the chain hidden in my jeans and returned the favor. Three times.

  Three molars.

  And then a fourth. For fun.

  Fun. My brain tripped over the notion, tangled in its grim reality.

  I was enjoying myself. The violence, the pain. Delivering it. Fuck, even receiving it… I was enjoying myself.

  Losing myself…

  And I didn’t care.

  For what Rufie had planned to do to Ronnie, for the images his words had put into my head, images of the girl I loved more than life, I would end him.

  And if that meant losing my life—not physically, but emotionally—then that’s what would happen.

  Because I was born for this kind of existence. I was—

  “Lucas!”

  The female shout stopped my fist—mid-strike—bare inches from Rufie’s face.

  “Lucas,” Lila called. “Stop.”

  I drew a deep breath, my gaze focusing on what my knuckles and the chain had done to him. The blood lust turned everything red. Or maybe that was the sweat and blood trickling into my eyes.

  On the ground, pinned there by my knees, Rufie groaned. I’d turned his face to mush. When had I done that? How long had I been hitting him? When had I even put him on the ground? It had been a long time since I’d fallen into such a primitive state of mind. It scared me. Sent a chill straight to my soul.

  Whatever happened next, there was no going back to Ronnie now.

  The man she loved was gone. I’d killed him as surely as I was about to kill Rufie.

  And I was going to kill Rufie. He had to die. For what he said. For what he’d planned.

  Without turning to Lila, I bunched my fist around the chain and fixed my stare on the bloody, glistening mess of muscle and flesh that had once been Rufie’s face.

  He rolled his head in semi-conscious side-to-side movements that caused the torn flesh on his cheeks to quiver. His lips moved. A weak wheezing sound scratched at the warehouse’s silence.

  Head roaring, I drew a little closer to him. “Say it, Rufie,” I prompted. “Say Please don’t kill me, Trip.”

  “I’m…” he whispered, the word choked with fluid, his eyes swelled shut. “I’m…gonna…to fuck…your bitch.”

  I reared back, fist balled, colder than ice.

  “You die,” I whispered back.

  “Lucas!”

  I froze at Ronnie’s shout.

  “Lucas, stop.”

  I lifted my stare from Rufie. Eyes gritty, burning, and stinging, I turned to her voice.

  She ran towards me, a Doberman at her side.

  Francis.

  The dog’s name danced on my numb brain a heartbeat before Ronnie staggered to a halt a few feet from where I straddled Rufie.

  “Lucas,” she said, her gaze on my face, my eyes. She said it. Not shouted it. Not cried it with horror, disgust, or fear in her voice. Said it. Like she was letting me know my coffee was ready.

  I stared at her. The roaring in my head grew louder. My temples throbbed. Blood stung my eyes, trickled into my mouth. My muscles burned, an addictive energy demanding I continue. Beneath me, Rufie groaned.

  “Ronnie.” Her name fell from me on a breath.

  She took another step toward me. At her side, Francis mimicked her. Movement behind her drew my attention for a heartbeat. Fluffy stood a few feet away, a Glock in his hand. At his feet were the bodies of two Trinity members. Dead? Most likely just unconscious.

  “Don’t do this, Lucas.”

  I slid my gaze back to Ronnie, her request tearing at me. “You don’t know what he said he would do to you, babe. If I don’t kill him…”

  She shook her head, her lips curling in a slow, gentle smile. So gentle. That was Ronnie. As feisty as fucking hell and yet so gentle. “You don’t have to kill him to keep me safe, Lucas. You know the best way to keep me safe? Spoon with me. Every night. In our bed.”

  I swallowed, her words painting a picture in my mind of our bodies shaped together, my arm draped over her waist, her eyes closed, my lips pressed to her bare shoulder…

  In my mind, Rufie stepped up to the end of my bed and, before I could move, sank his steel pipe into Ronnie’s side, killing her in my bed.

  I shook my head, rage and terror and loss a glacier where my heart should have been. “I can’t protect you from what I once was, babe,” I said. Fuck, I felt sick. Sick and empty.

  “I don’t expect you to, Lucas,” she answered. “I expect you to live with me. To love me. For a very, very long time. You can’t do that if you do this.”

  A thick lump filled my throat. Rufie groaned again. The urge to mash his brains into the ground through the back of his head welled through me, intoxicating in its violent potency.

  Ronnie smiled again and took another step toward me. Just one, but it was enough. Through the coppery taint of blood on the air, I smelt her. It may have just been in my head, but I smelt her. Breathed her in. The delicate scent of her soap, her perfume, her shampoo… Her. My girl. The last thing I remembered of her every night when I fell asleep with my arms curled around her…the first thing I registered every morning when I woke…

  Ronn
ie. My life.

  “Fuck…” Rufie mumbled, “…the cunt.”

  I turned my stare to him.

  He grinned up at me, what remained of his shattered teeth in a sea of blood and raw flesh. “That’s what I’m gonna…to do…” he went on, the words part strangled wheeze, part gurgling laugh. “Fuck the—”

  “Lucas,” Ronnie said, her voice gentle. Understanding. Loving.

  “Cunt,” Rufie rasped beneath me. “Fuck…her until she—”

  I stood. In a single move, I straightened to my feet. “You’re not worth it, Randy,” I said, looking down at him before stepping over his inert body.

  I heard Ronnie’s exhalation. I turned to her in time to see Fluffy striding toward us all, the Marine making some kind of whistling command.

  Francis leapt forward, hackles raised, teeth bared, a low growl emanating from his chest as he took my place on top of Rufie. I didn’t need to ask what would happen if Rufie moved. I’d seen Francis at work once before.

  Fluffy walked past Ronnie. Our eyes met for a brief moment. “She talked me into coming,” he muttered. “I couldn’t say no. Besides, Francis adores her.”

  I let out a grunt. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  Fluffy tapped the peak of an invisible hat. “Yeah. ’Spect so.”

  “Lucas.”

  At Ronnie’s voice, I returned my attention to her. She stood still, watching me close the distance between us. “Remember what I said I would do to you when I saw you next?”

  I nodded, stopping a mere foot away. “Kiss me. Strip me naked. Fuck me senseless.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why can you remember that word for word, and yet forget when I ask you to put the toilet seat down?”

  I studied her.

  She smiled back. “I’m not going to kiss you. Not yet, at least. You need a shower first.”

  The distinct clip-clip of booted heels on concrete made me turn. Lila walked toward us from the other side of the warehouse, her M24 sniper rifle resting on her left arm, her smile wide.

  “Veronica, I don’t know whether to spank you or hug you.”

  “If you ask me, I’d say spank,” Fluffy rumbled from where he now stood beside Rufie. He had, I noticed, one massive foot pressed to Rufie’s chest. “But then I get off on that kind of thing.”

  I narrowed my eyes on the Marine. “Watch it, Fluffy.”

  He grinned at me.

  Francis seemed to do the same.

  “I want to go home now, Lucas.”

  I let out a ragged breath. “Are you sure, babe? You’ve seen me now. Me. Without the rose-colored glasses. I’m not pretty.”

  She laughed. She actually laughed. “Lucas Pratt, I’ve never looked at you through rose-colored glasses. And while I’ll admit you’re not pretty at this very second, I’m still completely and utterly in love with you and want to jump your bones more than I can possibly say. So if you’re okay with saying goodbye to Doctor Winchester, Fluffy, and Francis, I’m okay with finding somewhere for you to shower so I can kiss you senseless. Deal?”

  I smiled. It came from my heart. Until Ronnie arrived, I didn’t think that was possible. “Deal.”

  “This is a good idea,” Lila said, stopping at my side. She cast me a knowing grin before looking at Ronnie. “Veronica, while I would gladly give you a hug right now, what I need to do more than anything is have a chat with young Randolph. He knows things I need to know. And he’s done things he needs to be accountable for. I would suggest you’re not quite ready for my particular version of a talk.”

  Ronnie blinked. “Okay.”

  Lila smiled. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  Lila threw me a look. “For not giving up on him.”

  Ronnie’s own smile stretched her lips. “Never would. Never will. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

  She held out her hand to me.

  I looked at her fingers, clean and free of scrapes and bruises and blood.

  “Take my fucking hand, Pratt,” she ordered.

  I did.

  We’d just walked through the door, out into the muted dawn light when Lila began her chat. Francis, it seemed, was joining in.

  I wrapped my arm around Ronnie and brushed my lips against her temple. “I love you, Ronnie. Marry me?”

  Chapter 6

  Fuck. I hadn’t meant to just blurt that out. What the fuck did I do now?

  Ronnie looked up at me, her expression unreadable. “How about we start with a shower first and go from there?”

  Fuck. What kind of answer was that?

  Ronnie smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Idiot. Of course I’ll marry you. But let’s leave the proposal for a time when you’re not covered in blood, what do you think?”

  I half laughed, half snorted. “Good idea.”

  The proposal hadn’t blindsided me. Ever since I’d met Ronnie, I wanted to be with her forever, and despite what my violent tendencies might convey, the notion of marriage filled me with a warmth and joy I could never describe. But in my head, I’d always planned on seducing Ronnie with roses and chocolates and long, languid orgasms before I asked her.

  Popping the question minutes after dealing out more pain and brutal punishment than I ever had wasn’t exactly ideal.

  “Hey.”

  Ronnie smoothed her arm around my back and gave me a gentle squeeze. I looked down at her again, ignoring the faint pain in my ribs from the pressure. I’d need medical attention, but it could wait until Lila finished with Rufie.

  “Hey,” I echoed Ronnie with a smile.

  She met my gaze, her eyebrows dipping a little in a frown. “Don’t freak out on me, okay?”

  I gave her cheek a soft kiss. It hurt, but I was more concerned with getting blood on her face. “No freaking out.”

  “Good.”

  We crossed the warehouse’s weed-infested parking lot to Fluffy’s truck. “You got the keys?” I asked Ronnie as she dug out something jingling from her jeans’ pocket.

  “I do. I made Fluffy give them to me.” She unlocked the doors with a press of a button. “I also made him let me drive.”

  Wincing at the stabbing sensation on my right side, I opened the passenger door. “How?”

  She grinned at me before tapping her nose and almost fucking skipping around to the driver’s side.

  I raised my eyebrows at her.

  “I’m a dog person, Lucas Pratt,” she answered over the hood. “You should know that. Once I had Francis on my side, Fluffy had no hope. Strange name for a Marine, by the way. One day you need to tell me how he got it. He wouldn’t say, no matter how often I asked.”

  Even as I chuckled, I made a mental note to really have a talk with Fluffy about the job he’d done protecting her. I wasn’t pissed. I had no doubt if it came to Ronnie’s safety, dog-person or not, Fluffy wouldn’t have let her get hurt. Like his Doberman, I’d seen the Marine in action, and it was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

  It took us almost an hour to get back to the safe house. I directed Ronnie, my head once again roaring. The repeated pipe to the jaw had done a good job of almost scrambling my brains, it seemed. Fuck.

  Ronnie didn’t make a comment about the derelict house, nor the hidden room I led her to. What she did do was help me undress and get me into the shower.

  My body was beginning to let me know how fucking pissed it was at me for what I’d put it through. My ribs hurt, my head throbbed, my vision kept blurring and my fucking jaw… Christ, I was hurting everywhere.

  “I love you, babe,” I mumbled, teetering on the edge of sleep as Ronnie gently patted me dry after the shower.

  One of my hands rested on the top of her head, the other was flattened to the cold tiled wall as she worked the towel over my legs, up my thighs.

  My cock twitched, instantly alert when the backs of her fingers brushed my balls.

  I forced my eyes opened—fuck, I was tired—and watched as Ronnie blew a fine stream of air on my semi-hard dick.

  My br
eath caught in my throat, turning into a low shaky groan when she slowly ran the tip of her tongue up the length of my cock.

  “Fucking hell, Ronnie,” I moaned, my hand fisting in her hair at the pleasure unfurling through me. “I love you so fucking much.”

  She answered by swirling her tongue over the head of my cock.

  I groaned again, the pain in my body suddenly less.

  Glancing up at me through her bangs, she licked my dick again and then, hands skimming my ass and balls, gently sucked my cockhead into her mouth.

  Raw pleasure rushed through me like a tidal wave. I trembled, the sensation of her tongue and lips on my hard-on better than any medicine or painkillers.

  She slowly slid her mouth up and down my cock with faint pulses of suction, her fingers caressing my balls, backs of my thighs, ass cheeks as she did so.

  The roaring in my head subsided. The pain in my jaw seemed to fade away. I wasn’t stupid enough to think she was healing me, but what she was doing to me, how she was making me feel…it was exactly what I needed at that moment.

  Exactly.

  I came in her mouth a lifetime of gentle sucking and licking later, my groans as shaky as my legs and thick with pleasure and desire. She held my hips motionless as each wad spurted from me, embracing my legs with her arms and chest, supporting my lower back with steady palms at the base of my spine.

  It might sound insane, given what I’d just been through with Rufie, but it was perfect. It gave me strength. It gave me focus.

  When the last of my seed seeped from me, she straightened to her feet and took my hand. “Sleep now, Lucas,” she ordered, leading me to the room’s narrow bed. “Do I need to let Doctor Winchester know where we are?”

  I shook my head, sinking onto the mattress. Pain. Coming back. In my side, my jaw. My everything.

  She knelt on the floor beside the bed, combed her fingers through my hair, trailed them over my damaged jaw. The fact I could move it told me it wasn’t broken, but fuck, it hurt. Fractured, maybe? A steel pipe could do that.

  “Do you need any painkillers?”

  I shook my head again at her soft whisper. “No,” I rasped. “What you just did was better than any meds.”

  Her chuckle seemed to come from a long way away. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t believe that for a…”