“Lie back . . . let me,” he whispers, urging me onto my back and kissing his way down my body. I arch my back, pushing my nipples toward him, but instead, he traces my stomach with the tip of his tongue, dipping into the shallow well of my belly button before kissing lower. He pulls away to kiss up the inside of my thighs before he soulfully kisses my wet pussy.
He doesn’t tease me, instead just kissing my lips tenderly, letting his tongue explore my soft flesh. He’s driving me crazy, physically and emotionally, with how sweet he’s being. But this is what I need right now, and he knows it.
My hips lift, pressing into his mouth as I grind my pussy against his lips and teeth. “Oh, God, Gabe . . . that’s amazing . . . oh, God, yes, yes, yes!” I say before my voice leaves me, devolving into a stream of breathy yesses that blend together as I buck against his tongue.
My thighs clamp around his head as I come, and I can feel my body gushing for him. Gabe drinks me down like I’m a fine wine, which only makes me come harder.
He kisses his way up my body to look in my eyes before taking my mouth in a deep kiss to let me taste myself on his tongue. It’s a heady combination of the two of us. As we kiss, he thrusts into me slowly, filling me with his thick cock. We move as one, our hips coming together in waves.
My nipples rub against his chest, pearling up, and he dips down to suck on one. But with a groan, he pops off and lays over me, pressing me into the bed with his weight. I feel cocooned in him, surrounded and impaled by everything he is. And I take it, grateful that he is letting me into his heart the way I’m letting him into mine.
The new angle hits a spot deep inside me, and I cry out, “Oh, God, Gabe. Right there.”
“Come for me, Princess,” he says, and I reach for it, so close to the edge and so desperate to fly. “Come with me.”
And that does it. I want to come with him always, both in bed and anywhere life takes us. The thought of our being together forever, however long that may be, considering the threat we’re under, is sharply glorious.
Gripping his shoulders as he thrusts deeper and deeper into me, we find our moment of eternity, Gabe crying out his own release as I spasm and clench around him, milking his cum from his balls.
I don’t realize I’m crying until Gabe wipes the tears away with his thumb. “Hey, you okay?” His brows knit together in concern.
I bite my lip, nodding. “Yeah, it’s just a lot. But with you by my side, I think I can handle anything.”
He smiles, dimples popping for me again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I love you, Bella.”
I wish I could say his words make the world waiting to destroy me disappear, washing it away with the power of his love. But that doesn’t happen. Instead, his vow makes me feel like no matter what is coming down the pipe, I can handle it with him. Hopefully, he feels the same way about my promise.
“I love you, Gabe. Now and forever.”
Chapter 34
Gabriel
The darkness is nearly perfect, with a full, cloudy sky that seems like a blessing, a sign that maybe this stupid move isn’t entirely reckless. But I wouldn’t have been able to say no to Bella regardless.
Wait. Actually, I had said no multiple times, but she’d worn me down, and finally, I’d given in with some rules. And that’s how I find myself with a supposed-to-be-dead Bella sitting in the passenger seat of Thomas’s work truck as we pull up to her house.
Well, what’s left of it.
It’s not as much of a burned-out husk as I’d feared, though. From the left side of the front yard, it even looks fine. Or at least as fine as it always was. But from the right, you can see the black char and destruction. The back corner, where the kitchen and living room sat, is basically gone, a black void into the heart of the house yawning open.
I look over at Bella to see how she’s taking this, expecting her to be on the verge of falling apart. But the reality seems to have either put her into shock, or she’s moving into an anger stage, because she looks fiercely determined in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.
As I park, she moves her hand toward the handle. “No, we talked about this. Stay here until I clear everything.”
She nods, sighing and revealing a crack in her brave façade. “I know. I just need to get in there and see what’s left.”
I rub her thigh comfortingly, making sure the switch on the dome light’s off to keep the car’s interior dark as I open the door. I don’t want to make it easy for anyone to see that it’s Bella. The whole point of using Thomas’s truck and both of us dressing in solid black with hoodies is so that anyone who happens to see us will assume we’re Thomas and Mia coming to check on the house.
I do a scan of the surrounding area, noting all the hiding spots even though I’ve done this multiple times before while I watched Bella. Then, I was looking for places I could hide. Now, I’m looking for possible threats.
Seeing nothing amiss, I open my door and get out, keeping my head on a swivel. Holding the button on the door handle, I close my door quietly before coming around, carefully walking to avoid stepping on any tree branches or anything else that might make noise. Bella maneuvers herself behind the wheel, poised to crank the engine and run like hell if she has to, and inside, I’m proud of her. She remembers the plan and is ready to jump into action if need be.
As I make the short walk toward the house, I keep my hands in my hoodie pocket, my right one gripping my pistol, ready for action. It seems strangely normal but at the same time silly to go up the two steps to the front door, considering there are gaping holes in the walls and the door itself has been kicked out. But the door frame’s still there, so that’s where I go.
Glancing back, Bella seems okay, or at least the truck is dark and quiet, so I proceed into the house. It’s an odd discord to go inside and be able to see the stars because of the huge holes in the roof. The one good thing? The place is still standing. It’s a miracle the fire department had anything except cinders to hose down, as old and dried as this place was.
Once I’m inside, I take my gun out, not worrying as much about visibility behind the few still-standing walls. I check each room, both my footing on the weakened structure and for anything or anyone threatening.
Back out front, I open the door for Bella. “How bad is it?” she asks.
“Not good. There’s a lot of damage you can’t see from the street, and the whole house has water damage.”
She nods grimly, seemingly prepping herself for the horror she knows she’s about to see.
Inside, she’s silent as she looks around. I keep expecting the tears to start back up, but she must be cried out because her expression stays stoic. Her borrowed black boot kicks out at the ashy remains piled up in what’s left of the living room floor. A pile of silvery grey dust puffs into the air at our feet and then falls to the cinderblock-framed ground we can see below since there’s no subfloor in this area anymore.
“Watch your step,” I warn, pulling her back. “I checked, but I can’t be sure it’ll hold.”
She backs up and moves towards the hall and I follow. I see her take a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling before she steps through to the guest bedroom. Even in the dim light, I can see her painting is ruined, the sheetrock saturated with water.
“I know it was just a painting,” she says, looking at the mess in front of her. “But it meant a lot to me. I painted that right after Reggie died, and it got me through those dark days when I’d lost everyone, everything. It was my therapy, a sign that there could still be beauty in the world, even if I had to make it myself.”
She moves to the wall, reaching out a hand to touch the color-smeared and crumbling sheetrock.
“I’m sorry, Bella,” I say softly, putting my free hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to see if there’s anything salvageable?”
She nods, kissing her fingertips and laying them over the spot where her family used to sit in their plane, memorialized and remembered.
In her bedroom, she squats down in front of the closet, blindly digging deep into the pile of things that have survived the fire. She pulls out a small metal case, about the size of a lunch box, and a sad smile lifts her lips.
“What’s that?”
“A memory box Reggie gave me when I first came here,” she says, reverently tracing the outside of the box. She opens it and her eyes shine with the tears I’ve been expecting as she looks heavenward. “Thank you.”
She picks up a few pieces of folded paper and some small squares that look to be photographs. Unable to see them in the dark, she lays them back into the beloved box and closes it with a soft snick. “Okay, this is all I need.”
I look at her, this woman who has survived her whole life with barely anything but hard times. And when life conspires to take even more from her, she doesn’t crumble, burnt and destroyed by the flames. No, she rises like a phoenix. She has only what she packed in her backpack and this metal box to her name, but it’s all she needs.
She is gloriously grateful and humble, knowing what’s truly important isn’t a house or clothes but memories and people.
“You ready?” I ask, giving her one last chance because I don’t know when we’ll be able to come back here with the dangers lurking around every corner.
She sighs but shakes her head and I step in front of her to lead us out.
I look down the hall before we exit the bedroom, carefully stepping our way back to what remains of the living room. Everything seems clear, but as I come around the corner, a sharp blow hits me in the jaw, sending me stumbling and taking me by surprise.
I don’t get surprised. Ever.
My instincts take over, and even though it’s damn near pitch black, I blindly turn to fight my attacker. I see a shape, and I focus on that, calling out to Bella, “Run. Go.”
I hear the scuffle of her feet and pray she’s doing as I said as I launch myself at the attacker. She needs to get out of here, leave me, and get to safety.
In the dark, there’s no space or time for throwing blows. Instead we wrestle, slamming each other against the weakened structure of the house. I’d try and use my gun against him, but he’s just as skilled as I am, using knees and elbows to blast me rapid-fire style, though I’m giving as good as he is. But I don’t have even half a second to reach into my pocket for the pistol, and firing into the dark is a dangerous option since I’m afraid I might hit Bella accidentally.
So I stick to keeping close enough to sense him, laying body shots when I can and blocking his hits as best I’m able. A moment later, I take a sudden knee to the balls, doubling me over in blinding pain.
As I bend over, I reach out to grab the backs of my attacker’s legs, taking him down and we scramble across the floor, which creaks eerily beneath the onslaught.
I already know this can’t be Carraby, there’s no way that pussy could give me this much fight even if he had a nightstick to help him.
So if it’s not him, coming to take advantage of Bella’s unexpected open-door policy, it’s somebody much, much worse. It’s something much worse.
“You fucked up, Angel,” a disembodied voice says from beneath me. The attacker might be on his back, but I don’t have a solid upper hand against him. He’s countering my every move, his jiu-jitsu so good I get the sense he’s playing with me. Like he knows my next move before I do.
And the fact that he called me by my professional name sends chills down my spine.
But this is life or death, and I fight with everything I have, every dirty trick I learned in my years of evil, because this is for Bella and I know it. I don’t care if I never leave this shell of a house, as long as she’s safe. I pray she’s long-gone by now, well on her way back to Mia’s.
I need to give her time to get away.
Half standing, I slam my knee into his kidney and pull back, getting to my feet. If I can’t beat him on the ground, then I have to take a chance of fighting him on his feet. My head’s still swimming. I’ve been rocked hard, but I position my body in between my attacker and the door, praying it gives Bella enough time.
My opponent follows me up, and I throw a right jab at the middle of his shape, the smack of my fist connecting with something hard. A small success that I follow up with a flurry of punches to the same area.
He grunts, but in the midst of the flurry, I feel my feet swept out from underneath me, and I’m slammed to the floor, my head bouncing off the floorboards and making the world swim. I hear a creak beneath me, and I wonder if the fire-weakened structure can withstand much more.
A hardened boot heel slams into my gut, adding to the ache in my balls, and I curl up, protecting my organs and coughing as the hot metallic taste of blood stains my tongue.
“You’re really a fallen angel now, Gabriel,” the voice says. I look up, and like divine intervention, the clouds part for a moment, letting the moon shine through, the empty roofbeams letting the light in.
It’s like seeing the devil come to life.
He’s tall, with dirty blonde hair and wearing all black. And fucking night vision goggles. That’s how he knew what moves I was making to counter me so well. I’m fighting blind in the dark, but for him, it may as well be daylight in the blackened ruins of Bella’s house.
He grins, and as he does, I see the slight pull of a scar by his mouth . . . a scar that is as much his calling card as my good looks.
Fucking Jericho.
He kicks again, my head snapping back, and this time, it’s my walls that are broken down, the world turning black once more.
Chapter 35
Gabriel
Consciousness returns in a painful pulse of red, from floating in space to achingly aware of the hard floor beneath my battered body. But I resist the pain, remembering what got me here.
Jericho.
Bella!
I turn over to my knees, and I lay my head on the floor, fighting back waves of nausea as my body reminds me of the abuse it’s taken. I don’t know how long I’ve been out. All I can do is pray Bella listened and drove like a bat out of hell back to Goldstone Tower.
But the gnawing unease in my belly knows she didn’t do that. My princess wouldn’t leave me, would instead give her all to save me because that’s who she is, what she does. She gives everything to everyone while she’s the one struggling or in danger.
The fear buoys me, helping me get to my feet even as the world continues to swim in lazy circles. Staggering, I make my way to the doorway, where I lean against the frame for a moment before my eyes start to cooperate and I can see straight again. With a deep breath, I step outside, my heart stopping in my chest at what I see.
Thomas’s white truck sits in the driveway right where I left it, letting me know that Bella didn’t speed away. More damning, though, is the open driver’s side door, hanging wide like a one-winged avian harbinger of doom.
I already know it in my gut, but I run to the truck anyway. The truth won’t let me pretend, though. Bella is gone.
The last vestiges of my illusion disappear as I see the nest of wires underneath the steering column and the keys still dangling uselessly from the ignition. He cut the wires . . . I’d left the door unlocked in case we needed to haul ass, but he’d used that against us, cutting the wires.
Jericho’s good . . . and now he has her in his grasp.
I slam my fist into the door panel, denting it, but the fresh pain helps me focus. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my Leatherman and reach further down the wires, finding what I need to hotwire the truck before climbing in. I drive back to Goldstone Tower as fast as the truck will go, but the elevator to the penthouse feels excruciatingly slow, even if it’s a direct ride.
Stealth isn’t a consideration now, I don’t care if everyone from the security guards to the Mayor sees me. Only one man in town would have the connections to hire Jericho, and right now speed is of utmost importance. There’s no telling what sick things Jericho is doing to my Princess even in this very moment.
; “Thomas!” I bellow as I come off the elevator.
I’m typically a lone huntsman in my line of work, but I’m not so arrogant as to ignore the resources at hand. And I’ll do anything to get Bella back. Especially since I have means as extensive and as dedicated as Thomas and Mia available to me.
Thomas comes out of the back wearing boxer briefs, with Mia hustling behind him. A quick glance shows me I’ve probably interrupted a little couple time, but I’m not here to compare swords with Thomas. Nor am I interested in Mia’s body, although he shoves her behind him anyway. As if I’m looking at her when I have Bella.
“What’s wrong?” Thomas asks me as soon as he sees my face. “What the fuck happened to you? Where’s Izzy?”
“He took her,” I snarl, my eyes clouded with rage. “That bastard.”
“What? No!” Mia gasps in shock.
“It was a setup,” I reply, nursing my aching jaw. “We were getting ready to leave when he jumped us. I told Bella to run, but . . .”
I haven’t lost my cool in years, not since Jeremy’s death, but I’m a hairsbreadth away from torching the whole fucking city and Mia’s trembling like a fall leaf in a windstorm with what I’ve already said. Thomas stays cool and collected though, all business as he calms the situation.
“Sit, tell us what happened,” he says.
I don’t sit, needing to pace, but Thomas forces a small shot of scotch in my hand, saying, “It’ll help.” I toss it back and then manage to relay the story of us taking precautions to go check out Bella’s house, how Jericho had been lying in wait for us, the fight and then the empty truck, with Bella nowhere to be found.
Mia gives off a single sob at the end when I tell them about the cut wires, the detail somehow convincing her more than me getting my ass kicked that Jericho is for real.
Not So Prince Charming: A Dirty Fairy Tale Page 26