Disruption

by Victoria Johns

  Her face fell forward and I heard her sniff back emotion.

  “What I do isn’t exactly conventional, but you saved me, Zane. I know what kind of man you are, and what kind of ruthlessness sits under the surface, but I’m begging you, give me a chance.”

  “I think that could be a mistake for both of us.”

  Full on tears rolled down her face, I knew because I could see them dropping on the dress stretched around her pregnant belly, being absorbed into the fabric. The very same belly that was causing such upheaval in a part of my world that usually ran so smoothly it was like I operated a train station of girls. In and out. In for a while and back out forever. Money changed hands and they weren’t even a memory. Just cattle being traded.

  “But you trusted me,” her voice raised an octave.

  “And I still do, it’s just, I think what we do will go against the grain of what a mother should be to their child. If you really want to work for me, I’ll see what I can find for you…”

  I didn’t know where that came from, but with all my heart I pleaded that she understood, because if she insisted and I let her stay working with the girls, she was going to force me to resolve that problem in a very ugly way.

  It was still a very real possibility that she knew too much, and I was going to have to end things in a way I didn’t want to. I’d killed plenty of people but pregnant women, no. New mothers, possibly, but not one I knew.

  Her head shot up, her wobbling lips forming a grateful smile. “Okay, thank you.”

  I opened the car door and got a foot out. “But, Rox, don’t ever keep stuff from me again. I don’t like being lied to and feeling like I can’t trust my key people.”

  She nodded and I left her to it, my mind preoccupied with what role I could find a pregnant-slash-soon-to-be a new mom in my vast criminal enterprise. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but she was going to leave a big gap.

  It was because of this that I’d missed there was a light on in the house. Opening the front door, I saw the silhouette of furniture being projected from a lamp shining at the very back of the house, a lamp I hadn’t left on.

  Closing it gently, almost silently, I was taken back to the years I’d served my family as a foot soldier.

  Grab your weapon, assess the threat and eliminate it.

  I reached inside a wide-brimmed bowl and removed the fake floral decoration. I wasn’t one for flowers of any kind, unless I ordered them for the funeral of one of my enemies, a final warning to the families was always the best move. But in some other circumstances they had a perfect use. Underneath the green foamy brick thing was a cleverly concealed weapon. As slightly as possible, I ejected the chamber to make sure it was loaded and then ever so slowly, cocked it and flipped the safety off, feeling pissed that the Zane Teague who never came to this retreat, the motherfucking murderer, was now being called forward into action.

  My heart was pumping as I flexed my fingers and relaxed my shoulders and arms.

  Making a cursory glance of the rooms I passed, just to make sure they were empty and not loaded with hidden surprises or traps, I moved toward the main living room. The closer I got the more my senses kicked in. Eyes getting ready to adjust from dark to light, ears working double time to pick up any clue as to where the intruder could be in the house. It was then that I heard the ‘thunk’ of a glass hit the wooden top of a side table.

  Throwing the door open, my gun held ready to fire, I entered the room.

  “Fuck!” A voice cut through the silence, just two seconds before a bottle slid through her fingers and smashed on the tiled floor.

  “Are you kidding me?!? I could have fucking shot you.”

  From the pale, shocked pallor of her face it was obvious that she now realized this.

  For the first time ever, Bailey Roach was getting a front row seat to the dangerous man I really was.

  I should have apologized, but I wasn’t going to.

  She should be the one to apologize.

  For entering my property unannounced, had I have been here, or in bed, her welcome reception would have been a bullet.

  For not turning up at the plane.

  For fucking trying to break me.

  But none of that mattered right now.

  She was here.

  Chapter Nine

  “I’ll get this cleaned up.” Bailey jumped into action.

  “Damn! Fucked-up stupid idea, breaking in like that.” I relieved the gun from its ready-to-kill position and flipped the safety on before retreating to put it back in its flowery hidey hole.

  “I thought I’d surprise you,” she retorted, grabbing a dustpan, brush and a handful of paper towels.

  “Bay, in future, be careful with your surprises. I could have shot you.” My voice was simple and serious, she needed to understand how close we’d been to a tragedy.

  I let her carry on cleaning up the broken bottle pieces and stayed on the other side of the room, my head too busy trying to process it all.

  She was here.

  She’d come.

  “Who was that?” she asked out of the blue, not casual or shy, and very blatantly nosy, just like Bailey.

  “Who was who?” My brain was still busy playing catch up.

  “The bitch you were kissing in the car.” She almost snarled the words and the realization that she’d seen and was jealous sent a bolt of emotion through me.

  “A friend.”

  My body was feeling the same electricity it did moments ago when I was holding my gun, only this time the adrenaline was caused by being alone with Bailey.

  “If I’d have known you had friends, I wouldn’t have bothered coming.”

  “Why have you come, Bay?”

  The cute nervous side I fell in love with when I was a teenager bubbled to the surface. There were so many levels to her personality it was like hanging out with a crowd of people instead of just her. As quick as it was there to be seen though, it was replaced with bravado. “Forget it. I’ll go to a hotel and fly back out tomorrow morning.”

  Bailey walked to her luggage in the corner of the room and began to wheel them in my direction, on her way to the door. When she got level with me, I stepped in front of her. If she thought she was leaving now I’d finally got her here, then she was deluded.

  “Why weren’t you at the airport?”

  As I asked her the one question that could throw all of this out of the window, I stayed still, stood toe to toe with her. The only difference was our height, I had my head tipped down and she was forced to look up to me. The moon was shining through the window to the side of us and her skin had never looked so smooth, so silky and so flushed.

  “Work.”

  “Bullshit, Bailey.” Her eyes went wide as I bit the words back at her. “If we can’t be truthful right now, when there’s only the two of us, then I’ll call you a fucking Uber myself.”

  “This is huge, Z,” she whispered. “It’s you and… it’s me. I needed to be sure that I was prepared to fuck everything else up just to be here. With you.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

  I’d schooled myself over the years I’d been groomed to take on the family business, to hide all emotions. Reactions of any kind played into the hands of the enemy, show an emotional reaction and you were as good as dead. But right now, it was impossible to keep it bottled up.

  This was my Bailey.

  Here.

  For me.

  For us.

  The urge overwhelmed every living part of me, and before she could change her mind again, I surged for her and our lips crashed together. I could feel her bringing a version of Zane to life that had lay hidden under layers of desperate longing and love for this woman.

  I felt her raise up to her tiptoes and put her arms around my waist, before sliding them up past my neck and into my hair, exactly like she did when we kissed in the bathroom at her parent’s house. And just like the time in my office at Checkmate, it only too
k seconds for her fingers to claw and rake through it with need.

  My body reacted on instinct and I picked her up and walked with her to the folding doors. If I only got this one chance to be really connected to Bailey, I needed to do it where I was happiest, overlooking the ocean under the moonlight.

  As I lowered us to a garden lounger, I sat her astride me and continued to kiss her like she might change her mind at any moment and get up and leave me. The palm trees that I’d had landscaped to provide maximum privacy blew in the wind, but right here, right now, this was my idea of perfection. Feeling her tongue in my mouth, her body flush against mine in such a heavenly setting, was like being in heaven itself.

  Bailey undid the buttons on my shirt, hardly breaking her kissing stride, only when she moved the shirt panels aside, did she sit back and look at me. Tentatively, she reached out and ran her finger slowly along the words of my tattoo, her fingers looping and following the letters in perfect flow. She looked up at me as she got to the end, unspoken words passing between us, and no matter how much we wanted each other, we both knew what this could cost us.

  It had to be her decision, as much as it would slay me, but if the price to pay was too much for her, then I would respect it. I’d let her leave, lick my wounds until they became a scarred reminder of the barriers that should never be tested again. If she walked away now, I would become a bachelor, mourning for love and how close I’d been to earning it.

  My eyes implored her to give me a sign, let me know what her decision was going to be and when she opened her mouth my heart plummeted, panic stricken at the possibility she might call time on this. “No regrets, Zane. If we only get the time we have here, then I’ll have had everything I never thought possible.”

  The thought that this could only be for the here and now was like putting my hand on an open flame. The pain intensifying at the thought that what I wanted had an expiration date, even before it had started. “No regrets, Bailey. One day at a time.”

  Reaching out for her again, I had to slow things down, especially if this was all the time we had, I didn’t want all my heart’s desires to be done and dusted in the first night. I wanted to have everything with her.

  “Lie with me. Watch the moon.” I felt vulnerable, exposed, and I wasn’t used to that. As I wrapped her in my arms, I’d never seen this side of her, and she’d never seen this part of me.

  As she lay there, dozing off to sleep, I played with her hair, loving how she felt next to me. The clouds flitted past the moon as she snuggled closer, but I was determined to enjoy this for just a little while longer, in case I never had it again.

  It was the most perfect night of nearly sex anyone in the history of lovers had had.

  She was not next to me when I awoke the next morning. For a moment I thought I’d imagined it all, but then I spotted her open case on the floor. I was surprised that she’d managed to leave the bed and rummage through that case without me hearing, I never slept deeply because that’s how people like me died. Content yet complacent.

  I pulled on my boxers and headed into the bathroom. I looked at the mirror after I’d finished taking a piss and could see the gleam in my own eyes. Once again, I was that alcoholic who’d been tempted by a drink and was now considering going back for the whole bottle. I was convincing myself that I could handle this addiction, I could shake it off, no problem, when it suited me.

  But all that went to fucking shit though when I found her in the kitchen.

  She’d made pancakes and was stood wearing only a two-piece swimsuit. It was turquoise like the color of the surf outside and even though I’d seen her in swimwear before, somehow, this felt naughty, riskier. There would be no one else around us to put a stop to whatever we were going to start.

  “Shit!” I was pulled from my daydream at her words, and my dick nearly bust from my underwear when I realized what she’d done. She’d accidentally squirted syrup on herself instead of the pancakes and the thought of that nearly had my dick bursting too.

  Giving no thought to my next course of action, I was on her in three paces and had stopped her from wiping the syrup off with a cloth.

  “Let me.” I threw the cloth to the floor and dropped to my knees. Bailey gasped with shock when she realized what I was about to do.

  That was when I finally got to see the tattoo that I’d glimpsed briefly in her office that day. In a perfect circle about an inch from her belly button were those important words.

  Loyalty. Respect. Family.

  All the feelings and emotions that coursed through my body were indescribable. She’d adorned her beautiful body with the words that meant so much to me.

  “Why?” My throat so thick with emotion I could barely get the word out.

  “It was the only way to be close to you,” she admitted shyly.

  Bailey squirmed and giggled as my beard made contact with her skin, but the giggling didn’t last long.

  The first lick of my tongue on her syrupy stomach caused goosebumps.

  The second lick was more determined, and she shivered before a little moan escaped from her lips.

  Once the syrup had gone, I turned my attention to her belly button, licking the words before shooting my tongue in and out of it.

  I knew she was losing her fight to stay upright when her fingers pulled on my hair almost painfully. “More.”

  “So demanding,” I mumbled and pulled at the flimsy ties by her hips holding the bottom half of her swimsuit on. As soon as I saw she was completely bare down there, I chided myself for not discovering this the last time I’d played with her and when the smell of her pussy hit me, all those feelings of lust and need returned. This time I was going to get my reward and I planned on fucking her until she couldn’t decide whether to beg for more or scream for me to stop.

  My dick was out of my boxers instantly as I spun her round and flattened her on the kitchen counter.

  “Oh God! Yes!” she urged.

  Any thought that this probably wasn’t the best way for us to have sex the first time went straight out of my head. Last night, I’d been content to hold her, sleep next to her and look forward to more. Now it was my time for more and I was just as desperate as she was.

  With my palm holding her cheek against the worktop, I kicked her legs apart harshly, my mind pleading with me to slow down so I didn’t come like a virgin on prom night, while my dick led the race ahead imploring me to fuck her seven ways to heaven.

  My dick won.

  When I pushed into her, I forced her forwards until she was just on tip toes and bracing for every ounce of pent up need that I had kept locked inside me. My pace was punishing, and I made sure that every time I fucked into her, I did it fully seating myself until my balls were snug against her clit.

  When she panted, “Harder,” I had to shut my eyes and concentrate. The pressure was building inside me and there was no way I was going off before she did. Feeling the inside of her pussy was like having a silk rope wrapped tighter and tighter around my cock until just the end was free and begging for mercy.

  I had to get her there and quickly.

  “Come goddammit!” I raged, and slapped her ass cheek sharply, finally setting her spectacular orgasm in motion.

  It wasn’t lost on me that I felt rage in a lot of circumstances. This time it came with the very best of disruptions to my planned peaceful holiday. But like always, it was usually associated with people not doing what I needed them to do, when I wanted it.

  This, however, was the most enticing and delicious kind of rage. That bittersweet kind that ended with something beautiful. It was then that the sensation swallowed up everything else inside of me and I felt the guttural instinct to roar.

  This rage was the very best kind and made almost indescribable because Bailey was the one causing it.

  My senses were once again like an imaginary rope being twisted tourniquet style around my cock. It suffocated my steel-tight grip on the situation to where I had no hope of holding out any longer
. Slumping forward until I completely covered her, I groaned and let the years of wanting this beautiful creature spurt out of me and into her.

  Hearing her heavy breathing in sync with mine, I was reminded of where I was, who I was and who I’d just rutted like an animal in my kitchen. “I’m sorry.” Bailey tensed at my words. “I’ll go slower next time.” Breath left her body on a relieved exhale.

  Did she think I was about to regret it?

  No fucking way.

  Like me, she wanted a next time.

  And a next time.

  But this was scary. What we’d done was to hack open Pandora’s box and there was no hope of sealing it shut again.

  And the bigger problem was that the addicted man inside me wasn’t sure how he was going to bring this, whatever this was, to a satisfactory end without hurting her and destroying himself. The path to sobriety from this would be a torture far worse than death.

  Fuck.

  Who was I kidding?

  I already knew I never wanted this to end.

  Chapter Ten

  “I’ll go clean up.”

  The slight glance Bailey threw my way confused me. I didn’t know whether the look in her eyes was shame, nervousness, or maybe even regret. The thought that it might be regret was slowly unravelling in my head and not doing good things for my mindset, or my temper. I was on a high and I wanted to stay there forever. I imagined it was like this for everyone who finally got to fuck their long-standing crush, best friend and close as dammit love of their life, somewhere in there was also the taboo factor, she was someone I considered family too.

  As she bent down and scooped up her swimsuit bottoms, my eyes surveyed the damage we’d created. Syrup, plates, and what were once hot, fresh, fluffy pancakes were strewn everywhere.

  “I’ll clean this up, make some fresh pancakes and then we’ll go explore,” I offered, desperate to distract her and push aside whatever she might be conjuring up in her head.

  “Sure.” Like a moment ago, she didn’t really look at me before finally hotfooting it upstairs.