“Fuck off.”
“No thanks, I’d rather fuck your sweet pussy again.” He grinned. “Actually, I think we have a bit before the clothes will get here.”
The gush of wetness between her thighs meant her body was more than ready for another round if he was, but then a peppy guitar strum picked up from his pants and she laughed. “Cock-blocked by your phone?”
“This isn’t my phone,” he muttered as he pulled it out of his pocket, cursed, and then tapped the screen to silence it.
“Mr. Dead Guy?” She asked and he glanced up at her.
“Yeah. Looks like our boss is already wanting an update from him.” Just before he finished speaking the phone began ringing again and he growled as he silenced it.
“Persistent asshole, isn’t he?”
“You have no idea.” He glanced at the screen before landing that scorching gaze on her skin again. “Unfortunately, that means we probably don’t have enough time for me to do all the things I want to do to you.”
“Such as?” She asked, leaning back against the counter before she hopped up onto it, spreading her knees a little. The way his eyes dropped to focus between her thighs had a shiver rushing down her spine.
“You want details?”
“No. I want you to show me.”
Camille leaned back on her hands, offering herself up like a sacrifice, and he didn’t care about anything that was happening because what he wanted more than anything was to feel his cock inside her again. It only took a few steps to be between her thighs, and he ran his hands over her legs, tracing the bruises he’d left behind, marking her as his. He wanted to nip them with his teeth. He wanted to hear her whimper in pain, and cry out in pleasure, and scream his name.
“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered and pushed her thighs farther apart. She smiled and slid her hand over her hip, running a single finger up the length of her wet slit. He could see all of her soft folds glistening in the light and it made him want to taste her again, fuck her again, tie her down and make her come until she blacked out.
Fuck. There was a never-ending list of what he wanted to do with her body.
“You want me to fuck you again?”
She nodded slowly and sucked her lower lip between her teeth as she slid a finger deep into her pussy, a low moan rising out of her. His cock strained against his zipper and he knew he couldn’t drag this out or he was about to come in his pants like a teenager. Slamming Tony’s phone down on the counter beside her he tore his belt open and dropped his fly to get to his erection – and then his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Dangerously close to his balls, which made him shiver for several reasons.
“Dammit,” he growled and yanked his phone out. Camille froze so he laid his other hand over hers, shoving two fingers roughly inside her as he forced her finger back in. She groaned and knocked her head back against the mirror, spitting curses as her hips humped up against his hand. “Shhh, doll, I have to take this.”
Her shocked expression made him smirk as he kept his fingers buried in her wet pussy, teasing her with small movements while he answered the phone with his free hand.
“Yes?”
“Mateo, would you care to tell me why Tony isn’t answering my calls?” Scarpa’s voice was tinged with his Italian accent, and completely calm. But then Mateo had seen him be calm just before he shot someone in the face at a dinner party.
Locking eyes with Camille he fucked her with his fingers, thoroughly enjoying the way her silky wetness clamped down on him as she rocked her hips and used her other hand to rub her clit. Completely unabashed as she sought an orgasm. He smiled at her and spoke low, “That would be because I killed him.”
“What?” The angry silence on the other side of the line didn’t have Mateo too concerned, but the look of lust that had just passed over Camille’s face as he’d said those words had his cock throbbing between his legs.
“He showed up here claiming he was going to take over my job. I felt like that was a threat to my standing in the organization, and so rather than wait for him to turn that pretty little drill bit on me, I stabbed him in the throat.” Mateo’s mouth was watering as Camille started to rise to the edge, small murmurs of pleasure escaping her mouth even though she was biting down on her lip to try and keep quiet. “I don’t take threats well, Scarpa.”
“This is unacceptable.” The man covered the phone and mumbled something to someone, so Mateo took the opportunity to pin the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and reach forward to twist one of her nipples. He was rewarded with a high-pitched whine slipping between her clenched teeth as he tightened his fingers, and then she came hard. Her juices dripped down to the counter underneath her, and she reached for his hand to pull his touch deeper and he obliged.
Damn, she’s hot.
“Listen, I’m busy. Are we done?” Mateo grinned when Camille nodded in answer and lifted her hips harder against him. He tugged her hand out of the way and thrust three of his fingers inside her, stretching her wide so that she was whimpering and groaning quietly, trying to stay silent.
Just one more minute and that’s going to be my cock, doll face.
He growled. “Scarpa, I’m hanging up.”
“Listen, if I don’t get Callahan’s address in the next twelve hours, you better show up with a corpse. Got it?” The threat made his jaw clench, but it was hard to hold onto the anger when he was about to fuck Camille on the counter. He forced his fingers a little deeper and she hissed air through her teeth before biting down on a moan.
“Can I bring Tony’s corpse? She’s got a sweet cunt and I kind of like listening to her scream.” Her low groan and the way her pussy tightened around his fingers meant she liked what she’d heard, and he grinned down at her.
“You’re a sick fuck, Mateo, and no I don’t want his body. Take care of it. All of it.” Scarpa hung up on him, but he could care less. He shoved the phones across the counter and slid his soaked fingers from her and pressed them to her lips. She sucked them in and the way her tongue ran over his skin he knew he wanted to be in her throat before all of this was over. But first… he yanked her forward by her hips, laying her back until she had to prop herself on her elbows so her head didn’t end up against the mirror. He didn’t care what she had to do in order to make the position work because he couldn’t wait any longer.
Not after the show she had just put on.
“Apparently, if I don’t get the address from you in the next twelve hours I’m supposed to kill you and bring your corpse to Scarpa.” Mateo shoved his pants and his boxers out of the way so he could grab his cock – he was way too sensitive right now to fuck around.
“Like hell that’s going to happen.” Camille panted, focused on the hard flesh in his grip.
“Just what I was thinking, I need you for at least another twenty-four hours.” He lined up and thrust home, bottoming out in one stroke that had her crying out and her head smacking into the mirror. He laughed and did it again, reveling in the stream of curses she pelted him with as her voice rose louder, her pussy clenching him, moans interspersed as he fucked her mercilessly until she came hard around him. It was just what he needed to push him over the edge and his balls tightened as he spilled inside her again, loving the way her slick channel gripped him again and again.
The fuck was quick, but mind-blowing – just like their time together.
Screw Scarpa and screw Callahan, he wasn’t going to lose this girl just after he’d found her. As if she could read his face she sat up and wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her nails into the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss. He gladly met her lips, tasting her pussy juices on her tongue which made him wish they had time for more play – hours, days of more play – but they didn’t.
There were kids to save and people to kill.
He cupped her cheek and forced her back even though she growled as she looked up at him, her lips swollen from the small nips he’d given. “We have to gear up if we’re
going for the kid. The clothes will be here soon, and then we need to leave. Scarpa is going to be very unhappy with me in a few hours when he checks in again.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we sure as hell won’t be here. We’ll need to avoid this house until I have it all figured out.” His cock slid from her and he mourned the loss of her slick heat.
Camille leaned back on her hands, giving him a doubting look. “And where do you plan on all of us going since we’ll be plus one kidnapped fourteen year old? The local Ritz tends to frown on people screaming for help, or being hauled out of a trunk in their parking lot.”
“I’ll handle it,” he growled at her, stepping out from between her legs to shove his pants the rest of the way off. He needed a shower.
“No, I’ll handle it.” She leaned over and picked up Tony’s phone, tilting it. “This is mine now.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Do what I do.” Camille winked and hopped off the counter, the insides of her thighs shiny as she walked out of the bathroom.
“Don’t answer that phone, or the door if the clothes arrive - and don’t kill anyone!” He called after her as he flipped the water on.
“Hypocrite!” She yelled back and he couldn’t help but smile.
Chapter Seven
Camille didn’t have a ton of numbers memorized, but she did have the important ones. After all, when you might need to drop your cell phone down a garbage disposal at any moment it was useful to be able to recover somehow.
Nighthawk was almost always her first call – as ridiculous as his chosen code name was.
The phone trilled in her ear as she lay out across Mateo’s bed, using his sheet to clean up the mess between her thighs. Fuck he had been hot fingering her while he bluntly told Scarpa what he’d done. He was so cocky, and confident, and -
“South Abrams Floral and Décor, how can I help you?”
“Hey Nighthawk, it’s C.” She grinned as he started laughing.
“Well, hello, princess! How’s my favorite Barbie doing today?”
“Fuck you very much, I’m doing fine. You remember that kid’s address I had you track down?” She heard him mumble an acknowledgement. “I need you to text it to this number.”
“What do I get out of it?” He asked, but she could already hear him typing. Nighthawk would give her the address after a bit of negotiating. She’d already paid him for the data once, but nothing was ever free.
“What do you want, nerd boy?”
“Nerd boy? You wish you knew me, Barbie.” He laughed, the sounds of his typing increasing in speed while she rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I do? Why don’t you meet me for a drink and call me Barbie to my face?”
“I like having all of my arteries intact, that’s why.” The playful edge of his voice had been dulled by his nerves, but this was how all their calls went. He flirted with her, baited her, but whenever she suggested they meet up in person he backed down. Camille was pretty sure he was the kind of guy that lived in his mom’s basement, although how he had stumbled into her world she wasn’t sure. Nighthawk was an enigma, but he was a wizard with computers and for that she didn’t ask questions.
“Alright, but you know I could rock your world.” She grinned and he laughed, once again playful.
“I’m sure you would, I just may not survive the experience.” A sharp tap came from his end of the phone and he sighed. “Alright, I’ve got the address, but I’m going to need a favor.”
Camille winced, thinking over her bank accounts for a moment to figure out exactly what she could agree to. “Well, before you add up my bill, there’s one more thing I need.”
“What’s that?”
“A safe house. I need a place to crash for a few days, maybe a week. A place that’s off everyone’s radar.” The words fell into empty air on the line and she could almost feel Nighthawk weighing the risks and rewards.
“You mean off Callahan’s radar.”
“Him too, but I’d prefer if no one knew where I was.” After all, Scarpa was about to be a problem too.
“Does this have anything to do with you not showing up back at your hotel last night, C?” Nighthawk’s calm question made her heart skip a beat.
“What do you mean?”
He laughed softly. “Did you really think Callahan didn’t have someone watching you there? He stalks you worse than I do.”
“Dammit, why didn’t you tell me?” Camille growled the words out, but he didn’t seem flustered.
“You weren’t paying me to tell you who all is tracking you, and I figured you knew. Either way, you don’t need to tell me what’s going on, but I just gave you that little fact for free. I can get you a safe house too, but I’m going to need something big.”
“What?” Her chest tightened, too distracted by the idea that Callahan already knew something was up to even worry about how much money he’d ask for.
“I’ve got a guy who decided my intel wasn’t worth what I charged. The other half of the payment never arrived and he disappeared into the wind, but I found him – of course – and he’s holed up in a hotel. I also happen to know he likes pretty little blondes.” Nighthawk’s voice was low and serious and he suddenly didn’t seem so out of place in their world. Maybe the nervous virgin act he put on with her really was just an act.
“Want me to scare him or kill him?”
“I don’t need the money.” Nighthawk signed the man’s death warrant without even a stutter in his voice, and Camille shrugged.
“Alright, I’ll reach out to you tomorrow for the details and I’ll take care of it. Are we good?”
“C, if you kill him, I’ll still owe you one.” Nighthawk laughed as she heard a ding on her end of the phone, and then another. “You’ve got the kid’s address and the address for a safe house. Make sure you don’t leave a big mess, cool?”
“Deal. Talk soon.”
“Later, Barbie.” The phone clicked off and she pressed her arm over her eyes. If Nighthawk thought he’d still owe her a favor after this guy died he was not going to be an easy mark.
“Fuck…” she cursed to herself and sat back up, watching through the doors as Mateo stood in all his glory drying off in front of the mirror. The man was built, broad with hard muscle, and every golden inch of him looked good enough to eat. He turned towards her, rubbing the towel in his hair for a second before he let it dangle at his side, not even trying to cover himself.
“Well?”
“I have the kid’s address and a safe house secured for us to take him to.” She grinned at the impressed look he gave her.
“Nice. That was quick.”
“I’ve got friends in low places.” With a wink she pushed herself off the bed and shrugged. “No calls came in, and no one has delivered clothing.”
“Did you kill anyone?” He raised an eyebrow and she bit her lip, watching as his eyes traced her mouth.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Well… she had agreed to kill someone, they just weren’t dead. Yet.
“Minx.” Mateo tilted his head towards his closet on the other side of the bathroom. “Go ahead and pick something out so you’re not cold, we can pick out a dainty little gun for you while we wait.”
“Don’t push me, Mateo, I might still shoot you.” She brushed past him and he chuckled, turning to smack her ass.
“You didn’t try to get the gun when I was sleeping, Camille. I think you’re going soft.”
“You’re the only one soft right now.” She looked over her shoulder, pointedly staring at his dick, but he just laughed and flipped her off.
A half hour later Camille was dressed in the clothes he’d bought, and somehow they fit her. A dark skirt that stopped just above her knee, black patterned tights, and a fresh top in a blue color that he had thought matched her eyes. The matching bra and panty set also fit perfectly, but he had cheated by looking at the tag on the ones she’d left upstairs. It had been disappointing to watch her get
dressed again, especially when she strapped knives high on each thigh and a gun to the small of her back.
Beautiful and deadly, like most things in nature that were pretty. All those bright patterns and colors were meant to ward off predators, but all she did was draw him in.
He was in over his head with Camille and he knew it. The fact that he was loading twin forty-fives with bullets and sliding extra clips into his pockets to make sure he could protect her was proof enough, but it was the way she smiled at him as she slid on her boots that really sealed it. A warm rush raced through his chest, as if her smile alone could turn on his emotions like a switch leaving him desperate for the next glance she’d cast his way.
No way was Scarpa getting his hands on her.
No one was going to touch her.
“Mateo?” Camille tilted her head, those blonde tresses slipping over her shoulder like a waterfall of gold. “You’re zoned out, what’s up?”
He shook himself, slamming the last clip home before he slid the gun into his shoulder holster. “Just thinking of how mad you’ll be if I have to knock the kid out.”
She rolled her eyes. “That won’t be necessary, if we leave soon we can catch him at home. His mom will be at her second job and I can go to the door and get him.”
“You know the kid’s schedule that well?”
“I spend more time than I should keeping track of him. I’ve always thought Callahan might kill him just for the hell of it, and I wanted to know if it happened.”
“So you could leave?”
“So I could slit his throat and then leave.” She ran her hands down the skirt, smoothing it, and the fact that the knives didn’t even leave a slight bump made his cock twitch in his pants.
“How were you planning to accomplish that?”
Camille grinned, her pink lips stretching slowly. “He’s always wanted me in his bed, he’s just been terrified of what I’d do to him if he were naked and unguarded, but I could seduce him in a minute.”
“I’m sure,” Mateo grumbled and turned away from her to snag a clean switchblade from his drawer of knives. The one he’d used on Tony was busy soaking in a bucket of bleach and water.
Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1) Page 10