by Avril Ashton
Her father had to be the one to blame. He'd probably pissed off someone and they thought by hurting her they'd get back at him. More fool them. The senator didn't give a fuck about her. A wave of embarrassment heated her face when she remembered Justice witnessed her humiliation. He knew her father tried to sell her.
He'd seen her in all her groveling glory, begging her own father to act like he cared for once. An exercise in futility. Now she had to look Justice in the eye.
She mustered the courage. Wrapping the sheet around her, she got off the bed and made her way to the living room. Her cautious steps faltered in the middle of the floor. On the couch, he lay on his back, one arm thrown over his face. Naked. Well, except for the sheet tangled around his waist. It didn't cover much. From mid-thigh down, all was exposed.
He's a killer sent to murder you. Myka scolded herself on her attraction to the man sleeping before her, but still couldn't help watching. Remembering.
Her gaze traveled over his sculpted chest. Smooth and wide. The fingers holding the sheet to her body twitched at the memory of her licking him there, kissing him. He'd liked her attentions in Toronto, pulling her hair, groaning each time she'd flicked her tongue over his nipples.
She continued her travels down his body to the narrow trail of dark hair leading to his groin. He'd slid inside her last night without protection. She'd loved it, every pulse, every twitch. The hard length of him fit her so right, filled her to bursting. Her would-be executioner made her feel things, want things, like never before. Twice now, she'd given him her body, but could she really trust him with it?
While she watched, the sheet fluttered, moved.
Her gaze flew up his body, collided with the black stare fixed on her face. Heat rushed up her body, hardening her nipples, and settled on her cheeks. “Justice.” His name was a croak on her lips.
"Myka.” A quiet rumble from him. “What are you doing?"
"Watching you sleep.” Her bold side came out around him. She decided to embrace it. “Wondering why you didn't finish what you started last night."
"Finish what?” He swung a leg off the couch and the sheet dipped lower on his hips, exposing a hipbone.
She approached him in slow steps. “You didn't come, you held back."
His mouth opened, closed. She'd left him speechless. “We didn't have protection. I don't take risks like that."
"If you'd asked, I would've told you I'm on the pill. That I was on it in Toronto.” Her nipples beaded and she gripped the sheet tighter. “I would've told you I get check-ups every six months and before Toronto I hadn't been with anyone in eight months."
His jaw worked, eyes narrowed to slits as his fingers sank into the couch cushions. “And after Toronto?” A hoarse demand as his erect cock pushed against the sheet.
Myka shook her head. “Two months, two weeks, three—well, four days since Toronto. Since I had you. There's been no one else.” The juncture of her thighs grew slick with moist heat. “You scared me then,” she admitted. “Now I know why.” She turned and headed to the kitchen. No matter how much she wanted him, her safety came first and she still couldn't be sure he wouldn't kill her.
She couldn't very well take the word of a killer as gospel. “You have half an hour to feed me, clothe me and convince me not to go to the police,” she called over her shoulder. Myka swore she heard him chuckle.
"I think your father is responsible for the hit."
Myka froze with a plastic fork of scrambled eggs on the way to her mouth. She sat on the couch, Justice on the floor at her feet, with the TV on mute. He'd apparently made a grocery run last night so the fridge was stocked with food. To her surprise, he'd made them eggs, toast, orange juice and grapefruit halves.
He looked up at her expectantly.
"What makes you think it's my father?” Her voice remained calm, but inside, she couldn't stop weeping because she knew it, too. The man who'd fathered her was somehow involved in a plot to kill her.
"He's obviously corrupt and he holds a position of power.” Justice kept his voice passive. Probably didn't want to let his pity show. “I think he's pissed off someone, or did something to warrant a move like this."
"A move like killing his daughter.” Myka dropped her fork, appetite gone. “If only they knew how much he can't stand me. Killing me won't hurt him, not at all."
Justice got up from the floor and sat beside her on the couch. “Are you feeling sorry for yourself?” He tilted his head to the side, a serious expression on his face, speculation in his eyes.
"No.” She shook her head. “Only accepting the truth. My father couldn't care less what happens to me—he blames me for my mother's death.” The words choked her.
"What? That's crazy."
"Crazy, yes, but true.” Myka swallowed and swiped at her eyes. “He told me himself."
Justice dragged her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Your father is a fucking idiot. I hope you don't believe him."
She snuggled into his embrace, safe with the killer sent after her. How crazy was that? “I believed him for a long while, until I grew up and learned differently."
"We'll find out who exactly is behind this,” Justice said. “I have people working on it."
She didn't want to know about his people, they were probably all criminals. “What happens when you find them? We ask pretty please for them to stop wanting me dead?"
He cupped her chin, tilted her to look into his eyes. “I'll deal with them my way, Myka. I'll do whatever it takes to remove the threat. If we go to the cops, whoever it is might find out and try to act on his own—do something drastic. I won't risk you."
That dark gaze held her captive, made her forget her name, her surroundings. How he did it, she was afraid to ask. She broke the eye contact and got to her feet. “You've fed me, but now I need clothes.” Adjusting the sheet around her, she said, “We're going to my house."
"We don't have to,” he said. “Gateway Mall is two minutes away, we can go shopping."
"No, I want my clothes. I also need to call Stefan, he must be worried."
Justice grinned. “I don't think he will be, not if he thinks you're with me."
"Sure of yourself, aren't you?” She headed for the bedroom to don the red dress from last night.
"I remember a cocky, take charge woman in Toronto,” he called. “I want her back."
Her steps slowed, but she managed to escape into the bedroom. In charge. Cocky. She'd been those, yes, but she'd been scared as well. Scared of taking the chance on a stranger, of the way he made her feel.
She ran her fingers through her hair to untangle the knots. The sheet floated to the floor on a whisper, leaving her naked in the middle of the bedroom. Justice was a killer. Better to keep that in mind. He might not hurt her, but he hurt other people. Men who hurt others without thinking twice had no place in her life. Not her father. Not Justice.
"Hey."
She spun around at the sound of his voice. He stood in the doorway, a cell phone in his hand. Midnight eyes settled on her chest, drifted lower. Her nipples stood at attention as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. His perusal paused at the heart of her, her core, pulsing and wet. Unconsciously, she shifted, parted her thighs.
He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring.
"Justice.” His gaze flew to hers. She licked dry lips and cleared her throat. “How can I help you?"
He blinked, a slow dip of curved, soot colored lashes. “I forgot what I came to say.” His lips twitched.
She snatched the dress from the bed, held it up like a shield. “Well, then excuse me, but I need to get dressed.” Her limbs felt limp and useless under his heated stare. Damn, she wouldn't be surprised if she melted at his feet in a freaking puddle. Why him, when he was so obviously not the take-home—to-Mama kind?
"I'm not stopping you from getting dressed."
His defiant gaze and set jaw made her want to scream. Time to put a stop to this, to take back some of the power he held. “In a few
days, you'll be gone,” she said. “Back to your world of killing for money. I don't want to be a part of it. I'll stay with you until we find who wants me dead, but that's it.” The words were forced through a throat suddenly clogged. Justice was a stranger to her, but glutton for punishment that she was, she couldn't bring herself to end it now. To cut off his access to her body and her access to his. It shouldn't matter that they'd exchanged bodily fluids more than once, in the end, he was a killer and she couldn't forget it.
A killer who makes my body sing, who melts my insides with just one look. Whatever time they had, Myka wanted it spent in his arms. And yes, she realized she was fucked, but only in the most enjoyable ways.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “What about finding out where this attraction could take us? Don't you want to know?"
She shook her head, turned away from him. “I don't want to."
"Yes, you do."
She didn't hear him move, but his warm breath tickled her ear. Her body shivered.
"You want it. You, Myka from Toronto, who allowed yourself to live and take chances. Who reached out and grabbed what she wanted.” He brushed the hair away from her neck, dropped a kiss on the exposed skin.
Myka whimpered. It wasn't right, the way he made her feel. She fisted her hands at her sides and prayed for the strength to let him go when that time came. And it would.
Justice's heat disappeared as he moved away from her. “All you have to do is reach for me, Myka."
She didn't turn around, couldn't look at him or she'd give in to the heat. To the pleasure. To the unknown waiting in his arms.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Seven
* * * *
"Myka, please call me back. We need to talk. I promise not to press any charges against that man."
Justice leaned against Myka's kitchen counter, smirking at the message her father left on her voicemail. They'd arrived at her apartment in Crown Heights a few minutes earlier and she'd accessed her voicemail, put it on speaker and promptly disappeared into her bedroom. They hadn't spoken a word to each other on the car ride over.
"Myka, it's Kevin. Whoever that man was with you tonight, you'd better tell him my lawyers will have his ass."
Justice chuckled. Fucking idiot.
"Oh, and, Myka I'm not mad at you. You haven't been yourself lately, but that's fine. Just call me when you get this."
Seems the rat bastard hadn't taken Justice seriously when he said no contact with Myka. Well, next time, Justice promised to more convincing.
"Was that Kevin?"
He looked up. Myka stood in the middle of the room with a purple carry-on suitcase next to her and a black handbag in her hand. She'd changed into jeans and a gray tank top stretched tight over her gorgeous tits and flat stomach. A tan leather jacket and black boots completed her outfit. Her abundant hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He almost told her to undo it, but instead nodded at her question.
"Yeah. Boy Wonder wanted you to know he's not mad at you and wants you to tell me his lawyers will have my ass."
She rolled her eyes. “Kevin was always the dramatic type."
Justice walked around the counter and stood in front of her. “Stefan called twice. Once last night to inquire about you and me, and once this morning to question why he's learning the news of your engagement from the papers."
"Oh, God!” She slapped a hand to her forehead, gaze darting around the room. “I forgot that shit would be in the paper. Where's my cell? I need to call him."
"Here.” He handed her his phone. “Use mine."
"Thanks.” Soft fingers grazed his as she took the phone.
He hardened instantly. She turned away from him to dial, then put the phone to her ear. Justice took a seat on her camel-colored couch and crossed his ankles on the ottoman.
"Stef, it's me.” She halted and held the phone away from her ears.
Justice couldn't make out the jumbled words as her friend yelled at her.
Myka put the phone back in her ear. “No, I'm not engaged. I don't care what the papers say.” She paused. “Or the videos."
Great. If this wasn't so fucked up, Justice might laugh.
Myka sighed. “Stef, it's way complicated and I promise to tell you about it soon, but right now I'm not gonna be available for a few days.” She spun around, met Justice's eyes. “I'll be with Justice.” Her lips parted and a pink tongue snaked out to touch the left corner of her mouth.
His fingers dug into his palm as he fought the urge to grab her and fuck her until she couldn't walk, until he couldn't think.
"Oh, um...Justice is the guy from last night. Mr. Dark.” She whispered the last bit, but he heard.
Mr. Dark? She'd named him that? He grinned, liking it more than he should. She'd been right back at his place. When this was all over, he'd be gone. He shouldn't get involved with her, but that ship had sailed since Toronto. There was no escaping the attraction between them. It wasn't wise, but he wasn't ready to give it up. Wasn't ready to not touch Myka, not taste her sweetness.
"I'll keep in touch, try not to worry too much,” she told Stefan. “Okay, bye.” She hung up the phone, but remained with her back to Justice.
"Myka."
She took her sweet time before she turned to him. When she finally did, her eyes were red.
"Come to me.” He patted the seat next to him. “Please.” Halting steps brought her to him. Justice took her hand in his and tugged her down beside him. “What's wrong?"
She swallowed, then spoke. “It just sank in, the fact that someone out there wants me dead. Someone I don't know wants to hurt me. Why?” Her bottom lip quivered.
Justice's heart broke for her. He pulled her into his arms, tucking her chin into his shoulder. “I'll find out, I promise you.” He smoothed her hair. “I'll find whoever is responsible, Myka. No one will hurt you."
Before he could get used to her soft warmth, she pulled away and met his gaze. “I don't want to depend on you, Justice.” She cupped his jaw with trembling fingers as her eyes filled with tears. “It's bad enough that I want you, but I don't want to need you, then watch you walk away."
He removed her hand from his face, brought it to his lips. There wasn't anything he could say to that. Truth was, he felt the same way. He didn't want to care for her, then walk away. The best thing would be to keep his distance, both mentally and physically. But he couldn't, nor did he want to.
"Why did you approach me in Toronto when you were seeing Lawrence?” He really wanted an answer to that question.
She looked away.
"Myka, talk to me,” he pleaded. “Why did you come to me for pleasure when you had someone at home?"
"I didn't have him at home,” she snapped. “He was with me in Toronto. I left him back at the hotel and went to the club.” She ran agitated fingers through her hair.
"Then why? Why wasn't he taking care of you?” How could Lawrence have someone like Myka next to him and not be loving her every minute of every day?
"He tried,” she said, “but I couldn't. His touch...left me cold."
"The why stay with him at all?"
She made a sound, part sob, part chuckle. “My father loves him. He introduced us, kept pushing us together even when I said no. He volunteered me for the trip to Toronto with Kevin, told me I'd be doing him a favor. I did it because I wanted his approval, wanted him to look at me the way he looked at Kevin. Like he was the senator's child, not me.” She wiped her eyes. “Eavesdropping is never a good thing—you hear things you wish you hadn't."
Justice cupped her cheek, brushed a finger over her bottom lip. “What did you overhear?"
"Kevin ignored me the first two days we were there. I'd never felt so alone, or so useless. The third day he promised we'd go out on the town, so I went to the spa while he was out. By the time I got back to the room, he was there, on the phone.” Her voice wobbled, small fists clenched. “He didn't hear me come in. There he stood with his back to me, talking to my father
, solidifying their agreement. My father gives me to Kevin, and in exchange, Kevin uses his father's money and connections to influence the election in my father's favor. Kevin was supposed to get me pregnant right away, in case I got any ideas about leaving."
"Bastards,” Justice growled. He should've shot those motherfuckers when he had the chance.
"I couldn't breathe,” Myka whispered. Pain shone in her bright eyes. “I had to get out so I ran right back out and hailed a cab. My intent was to go straight to the airport, but we passed the club and I yelled at the driver to stop.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. “I didn't know what I was looking for in that place, but I didn't count on you. The instant I saw you enter the club, nothing else mattered.” Taking a deep breath, she shuddered and closed her eyes. “Your scent,” she moaned, “I love your scent."
She was killing him softly. Justice's fingers tightened on her face. “Myka."
Her eyes flew open, heated amber settling on his mouth. Leaning forward, he brushed her lips with his. Those soft lips opened for him on a sigh. Justice swept inside, gliding his tongue over her teeth before tangling with her own. Myka lay back on the couch and he crawled over her. Her hands went to his back, stroked him there while he wrapped her hair around his fingers.
His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans. Justice rocked his pelvis into her and squeezed his eyes shut at the pleasure coursing through him. He'd had many women, but none affected him like Myka. She widened her thighs, wrapped her legs around his waist and undulated. Sure fingers sank into his ass cheeks, bringing him tighter into her.
He groaned, reaching for the zipper on her jeans. She lifted her hips, aiding him as he tugged the jeans down to her thighs. She didn't have on panties. He didn't question it, instead he eased two fingers into her soaked core.
"Ungh.” She groaned into his mouth.
Her walls held him in a slick grip. Pre-cum moistened his cock's swollen head. Breaking away from her lips, Justice placed tiny kisses down her neck and chest en route to those mouthwatering tits.