Shadows & Silence: A Wild Bunch Novel

by London Miller

  He disappeared out the door—probably to check and make sure no one was coming after the noise he’d made breaking the glass.

  One minute came and left before she was finally inside the actual system and could access the archives.

  She was actually doing it.

  They were close, actually close enough to say they were minutes away from winning the game, and while she was good at what she did, Răzvan was to thank for their success.

  The screen on her tablet flashed, a list of file names scrolling down in rapid succession.

  She scanned down the list, searching … searching … until Sylvain’s name appeared. With a few clicks, she downloaded everything attached to his name, and just for good measure, anything where his name was even mentioned.

  “It’s almost finished,” Ollie called over the comms, undoubtedly reading the data as it downloaded into their system.

  Răzvan still wasn’t back yet, but as long as the guards stayed away, then all was good.

  “Done. The download is complete. Get out of there!”

  Winter unhooked the wire and turned away, stuffing everything back into her bag before she reached the door.

  “Răz? Any time now—”

  “Stop right there!”

  Winter froze in place, her gaze darting up to the security guard currently pointing a gun at her.

  Another was just off to the side, a walkie-talkie in his hand though he seemed too focused on Winter to actually talk on it.

  “Uh, this is awkward.” She tried a smile. “Would it be too much for me to say this is a prank?”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he warned her, grabbing her arm before she could even think to take a step, but in his haste to grab her, neither he nor his partner noticed Răzvan moving up behind them.

  “Ya know, he really doesn’t like when men touch me. A bit protective of me, I think.”

  The guard’s brow furrowed as he stared at her as though she had lost her mind, but it only took an absent smile and a point over his shoulder for him to realize they weren’t alone.

  His partner was the first to feel the unforgiving force behind a punch from Răzvan, his head snapping to the side as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped to the ground unconscious.

  The other barely had a chance to fumble for his gun before he was on the floor too.

  Winter glanced down at the man at her feet before stepping over him. “Gotta mean swing there, big guy.”

  He shook his head, and she imagined if he wasn’t wearing that mask, he’d be smiling.

  But the moment was cut short when a screeching alarm sounded, and the lights in the hall flashed red.

  Wrapping his hand around hers, he took off, forcing her to practically run to keep up with his quick strides.

  —Take a breath,—he’d signed when it was a matter of just getting into the building, but she could hardly manage one as they raced out of the building and down the block to where his bike was parked.

  The sound of screeching tires could be heard down the road—Ollie and the others taking off, no doubt.

  Sirens came soon after, but they headed in the opposite direction, and with her arms wrapped around Răzvan’s waist, Winter didn’t look back.

  Adrenaline still thrummed inside her an hour later once they were back at the loft and the fear of getting caught dissipated.

  The sky had darkened with the promise of rain earlier in the day, but she hadn’t seen any evidence of it actually raining until they were on their way back to the loft and the skies decided to open up.

  It was still coming down pretty hard as they sped through rain-soaked streets, but she hadn’t minded as long as they made it away.

  Winter couldn’t count the number of times she’d glanced back, expecting to see a squad car or flashing lights only to find the street empty.

  But it was over now.

  And they’d done what she hadn’t been sure could be accomplished.

  She could still hear Ollie’s excited voice in her head when she’d taken his call earlier to let her know they’d made it back without any problem.

  He wanted to talk more, but she didn’t have the patience to hash it out with him, promising to call the following day so they could work out the details with Piston.

  Once that was done, there was nothing left to focus on but Răzvan and the empty loft.

  Contrary to what she’d originally thought, his brothers, with the exception of Fang, weren’t around nearly as much as she thought they would be.

  She was curious, though, wondering where they disappeared to for so long that she’d yet to actually see them in person in all the time she’d been spending with Răzvan.

  Then again, she kind of liked that it was just the pair of them without any distractions, and now that the job was over, there was nothing left to take her attention away from him.

  And after their kiss earlier, he had her undivided attention.

  She couldn’t think of anyone who had ever kissed her like that. Not Mike Specter who’d liked to use way too much tongue during her freshman year in high school or even Harvey Ross who thought trying to suck her lip off was sexy.

  No one compared to Răzvan.

  Cleanliness was obviously next to godliness for him going by the state of his room.

  No clothes were all over the floor or overflowing in a basket in the corner. If anything, his bedroom was almost too clean, and she doubted he’d gone through this much trouble just because she was here.

  Sitting on the edge of his bed, she unlaced her boots and tugged them off, ready to start on her wet clothes next, but paused when she heard the clatter of something metal.

  Răzvan had disappeared some time ago, but now she found him standing in front of the bathroom sink, his gaze on his hand.

  She hadn’t thought he’d been hurt when he punched through the glass protecting the server, but it had been dark in there, and he hadn’t given any indication.

  “How bad is it?” she asked, coming up beside him to look for herself before he had a chance to answer.

  His glove had obviously taken the worst of the damage, thankfully, but despite the layer of protection, the glass had still managed to shred through the material and scrape across his knuckles, leaving gashes in some places.

  “Nothing life-threatening, I don’t think,” she said softly, “I can patch you up. First-aid kit?”

  He nodded once, but instead of telling her where she could find it, he hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her onto the sink counter, making her heart trip over itself.

  She’d always noticed the difference in their size, but Răzvan reminded her when he did things like that, or how he’d had to bend at the waist when he kissed her.

  Once he grabbed the kit and set it beside her on the sink, he stood between her legs. As if she could think about tending to his wound when he was just there, so much of him.

  But bandaging his hand was far more important than where her thoughts were going.

  She checked his hand first to make sure no glass remained before picking up the bottle of peroxide and soaking two cotton pads with it.

  Gently, she cleaned the blood away, glancing up every so often to see if this was hurting him in any way, but he gave no reaction to what she was doing at all.

  Ointment came next and finally gauze. She fully expected him to move away, to let her drop down from the counter, but he stayed right where he was, his hand still in hers.

  This time, when she met his gaze, she didn’t look away.

  The moment stretched into seconds—seconds that ticked away with aching slowness until she was painfully aware just how close they were and how desperately she wished they were closer.

  He had a way of looking unaffected, as if nothing could get to him, but he didn’t look that way now.

  Desire was clear in his blue eyes, and even her own reflected in their depths. He didn’t try to hide it—he wanted her, and he wanted her to know it.

&nb
sp; She could smell the distinct scent of him, and the sweat did nothing to dampen his appeal.

  This wasn’t like London when she’d been in a drunken hurry to get Syn undressed, everything fast and rushed as he did the same to her.

  It was methodical.

  She was aware of every moment and every second that passed before the hand he had resting on the sink counter next to her hip slid around her waist then flattened at the curve of her spine, pulling her to him.

  And at this height, the feel of his arousal couldn’t be ignored.

  His fingers danced beneath the edge of her shirt, goosebumps erupting in their wake, but as he reached the front of her leggings, he paused, blue eyes coming up to meet hers.

  Oh, she wanted to look away—it was too much, meeting his gaze while knowing what he was about to do next.

  She expected him to strip her quickly—she wanted him to—but instead, he just shoved his hand right between her legs, bypassing the layers of fabric until his fingers were right there between her thighs and her own were curling back along the counter, gripping it so hard her knuckles blanched.

  Nothing could have prepared her for the too tight feel of his hand pressed against her, talented fingers dancing over wet flesh.

  Maybe he just needed to know for himself how wet she was for him. How desperate.

  And when the very corners of his mouth curled up, she couldn’t hold his gaze then, her eyes squeezing shut as she focused on the way he seemed so intent on learning her pussy.

  It was far too easy for him to slip a finger inside her, driving in as deep as he could with the restrictive leggings she wore.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  For either of them.

  His name balanced on the tip of her tongue, but before she could even say it, he was pulling his hand free and yanking her off the counter, using both hands to pull her leggings and panties down her legs then off completely.

  It was better like this, but it was so much worse.

  Sure, she could spread her legs wider now and give him better access, but now he was staring at her pussy as if he was transfixed—as if he were staring where he would kill to be.

  Now he hadn’t just felt how wet she was. He could see it.

  They both watched as his fingers ghosted up her thigh, her entire body humming, throbbing for his touch.

  At first, he was gentle, seeking out her clit before rubbing his thumb there in tight, controlled circles.

  Her head tipped back, the sensations overwhelming, but worse, he knew exactly the kind of effect he had on her.

  That reverent touch grew bolder, rougher, and then he was back standing at his full height, seconds before his mouth was on hers again.

  She couldn’t even concentrate on what his lips were doing, not when she was racing toward an orgasm he inspired.

  Her nails dug into his veiny forearm, but that didn’t deter him at all. If anything, his touch became more deliberate, more aggressive, as if he knew if he touched her just right, she would come on the spot.

  “Please.” The plea left her mouth before she could stop herself, but she was too far gone to care what she must have sounded like.

  Every twist and pinch and slide of his fingers against her slit sent bolts of pleasure shooting through her.

  Just a little—

  “Răz, where the fuck are—”

  She didn’t think she had ever seen Răzvan move as fast as he did, slamming the bathroom door shut with a kick of his foot.

  “Well, damn, you surly bastard. It was just a question.”

  Winter blew out a breath, her hand over her chest to calm the frantic beating. She bit back her laughter at the look on Răzvan’s face, but he didn’t look amused at all.

  Instead, he looked like he wanted to kill whoever was on the other side of the door.

  —Give me a minute to get rid of him.—

  With a rough shake of his head, he slipped out of the bathroom without revealing her presence inside.

  “Whose shit—why are you being so pushy? Fine, I’m leaving!”

  She waited until she heard the door open and shut before she peeked out, but Răzvan had left too.

  “No offense, Răz, but I hope that’s not for me,” Thanatos said with a pointed nod at Răzvan’s pants. “I’m into a lot of shit, but you might be a little much for me.”

  —Leave.—

  “Doesn’t sound like you’re giving me much of a choice.”

  —Then get the fuck out and if Nicu is here too, take his ass with you.—

  “At least one of us is getting laid. Nicu is being a picky little shit.”

  Răzvan stabbed his finger against the button of the elevator rapidly, wishing the fucking thing would hurry up.

  “Am I going to meet her?”

  —Not tonight.—

  “Ashamed of me?”

  —Yes. Now, stay gone.—

  “Luckily for you, Nicu isn’t here.” Thanatos stepped into the lift and laughed. “Have fun. Use protection—STDs are a real thing.”

  Idiot.

  Once he had the alarms reset, he headed back for his bedroom.

  Nothing could have prepared him for the sight Winter made in his bed, completely naked.

  Her hair was free of the braids, silver locks curling down her back—hair he wanted to sink his fingers into.

  Winter wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but when she looked over her shoulder at him, she couldn’t hide the blush staining her cheeks.

  Her gaze ducked to the front of his pants, her lips parting as he drew closer.

  “Saved the best for you.”

  She was fucking perfect.

  A smile still firmly in place, she rolled over, proudly displaying the tattoos he’d never seen—the same roses that decorated her arm wound around her hips, dipping down onto her thighs.

  There was no hesitation as she spread her legs for him, just as eager for this as he was.

  And fucking hell, the sight of her—wet and eager, open and inviting.

  Now he had a better view as he eased his fingers back inside her, his gaze briefly darting up to her face to catch her reaction.

  The arch of her back.

  The sigh leaving her lips.

  He added a second, testing her, feeling her, but fuck, if she was this tight around his fingers… his cock jerked at the thought.

  But no matter how badly he wanted to be inside her, he wanted—no, he needed to make her come first.

  She’d been close before Thanatos interrupted, and he badly wanted to see that expression on her face again.

  He eased his fingers in, watching her face with every inch. Her hips came up, offering herself to him, silently begging for more.

  But only when he felt her legs trembling did he add a third, his other hand cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing over the bar piercing her nipple.

  A low moan that he felt down in his balls fell from her lips before she was whispering words he barely caught.

  Please.

  Please.

  Please.

  He was almost sure at that moment he could come just watching her.

  Shit, he needed her to come now.

  Răzvan leaned down and kissed her, taking her mouth before thrusting his fingers inside her the way he would with his cock later.

  Her reaction was immediate, a cry spilling free, her pussy going tight around him.

  But he didn’t stop.

  Not when she was bucking up to meet him, and definitely not when she whispered his name against his lips before breaking apart.

  What little patience he had left snapped.

  Easing his fingers free of her, he moved back, only to grab her hips tight and drag her closer, watching as she reached for the waist of his pants and slowly undid the button and yanked down the zipper.

  He’d wanted to go slow, savor the moment, but that shit went right over his head once his cock was in her dainty hands and he forgot his own name.

  Blindly, he f
elt around in his pocket for a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on, her eyes on him the entire time.

  Slowly, carefully, he lined himself up with her pussy, sliding over her wet folds before dipping down to find that notch at her opening and pushed.

  It took every ounce of control he possessed not to just thrust the rest of the way inside her, not when she felt impossibly tight wrapped around the head of his cock.

  A breathless laugh left her as her nails dug into his forearms. “God, you’re big.”

  If he were capable of rational thought, he might have responded with something clever, but he was concentrating too much on making this good for her.

  Maybe she needed a little more—just enough to pierce the tension that had taken her over.

  He pressed his fingers against her mouth, watching with rapt satisfaction as she sucked them in, her eyes on him the entire time.

  Was there anything better than that?

  She watched him until he took his wet fingers and stroked her clit.

  That was what she needed before her thighs tightened where they were pressed against his sides, flexing involuntarily, letting him gain another inch.

  “God, yes. Please.”

  What a gorgeous fucking sight she made—lips parted, cheeks flushed, pierced nipples begging to be toyed with, but that was nothing compared to her pussy swallowing his cock.

  And each time he drew back, just to shove back in moments later, he could see the glistening proof of how badly she needed him to fuck her.

  But when she clenched around him, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and take a breath.

  He shouldn’t have been close.

  Not this soon.

  Not when only half his cock was buried inside her.

  The plan had always been to go easy, but when he pulled out and slid back in again, his brain stopped working.

  He just needed to fuck her.

  Bury himself in her and forget everything else.

  And when she started calling his name, he dropped down to his elbows, one hand curling around her throat to feel the vibrations of her cries.

  He whispered words she couldn’t hear against the side of her throat—about how good she felt squeezing his cock.

  How desperately he wanted her to come again because he wouldn’t. Fucking. Last.