by Avril Ashton
Myka chased them away. Emotion clogged his throat as he tightened his arm around her shoulder. Last night she'd pointed out things he already questioned—his motivation, the need to get revenge at any cost. When he started out on this road, the family and friends of his victims weren't on his mind. Only revenge, the need to hurt as he'd been hurt. Lately he'd come to see the error in his way of thinking. That could be why he'd been considering quitting his choice in careers recently. Having Myka made that decision so much easier. For her he could walk away. He would.
Her warm legs brushed his like heated silk as she stirred, then raised her head. “Hey, what are you thinking about?” Sleep made her voice scratchy, husky. He loved it, could easily see them waking like this every day.
Funny how he'd never before fostered a meaningful relationship with a woman, but Myka had him ready to give up everything in a heartbeat.
He met her heavy-lidded eyes, dropped a kiss on her nose. “Oh, I'm just wondering what you'll make me for breakfast."
"Really.” She grinned and nipped at his chin. “Did I happen to mention I can't cook?"
"Wha—” He sputtered. “That's preposterous. What do you mean you can't cook?"
She scooted off him, the little tease. “I mean I can't cook, so you'll be the one doing that in this relationship."
Relationship? He lurched upright, caught her arm and pulled her down on top of him. “Relationship, you say?” With bated breath, he waited for her response. She couldn't know how much he wished he could make this permanent.
Her warm eyes smiled at him. She brought her face down to his—foreheads pressed together, nose to nose, their lips barely touching. Justice kept himself still, fisted his hands at her hips.
"That's what I said,” she murmured. “You got a problem with that?"
"No.” He kissed her lips reverently. “No problem at all.” Joy surged, melting the soul he'd kept frozen for so long. Now he knew why Niko and Maysin acted like such fools over the women they loved. He owed them both apologies.
"Hey. Now that we're in a relationship, how about taking me out to breakfast?” Myka said.
He nodded. “I can do that, but we have to go into the city, too. We've got some business to take care of."
They got off the bed and dressed while he filled her in on Maysin's phone call last night. They had two hours to get to Manhattan and talk to Archie Benoit before his meet and greet.
Myka sat on the bed and tugged on a pair of tan over-the-knee boots. “So Maysin thinks it could be Archie who wants me dead?"
"Yeah.” He walked into the adjacent bathroom, Myka trailing close behind. “It's a possibility, we think. I'm not leaving there until I'm convinced one way or the other."
Side by side, they stood at the sink and brushed their teeth. When they finished, Myka wiped her hands on a towel and turned to him with earnest eyes.
"What will you do if he is the one?"
He shrugged. “Try very hard to convince him to call off the hit.” By any means necessary, but she didn't need to know that.
"I don't want anyone hurt in my name. Do you get me?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? Someone wants you dead and you don't want me to do anything about it?” What kind of shit was that? Did she think he'd allow anyone to threaten her life and just walk away?
Myka grabbed his hand. “You can do whatever you want, just don't use me as an excuse."
Stubbornly, he kept his mouth shut.
"Okay, I'll make this real simple for you.” She let go of him. “I want you to promise not to keep any secrets from me. Whatever you're going to do, I want to know."
Well, that he could do. He had no problem giving her a heads up before he fucked up anyone dumb enough to fantasize about hurting her. “Fine, I promise."
She stared at him then nodded. “Good. Let's start heading out, I'm starved."
* * * *
"Ms. Prentiss, please come in.” Archie Benoit waved Myka and Justice onto his campaign bus. She took a seat on the sofa next to a window with Justice next to her. Mr. Benoit sat in a metal folding chair opposite them.
She'd braced for resistance when they walked up to the senate hopeful's campaign manager with a request to speak with him, but he'd readily agreed after stripping Justice of his weapons. They didn't seem to care when she told them he was her bodyguard, no one went near Mr. Benoit with a weapon.
"I must admit to being extremely curious, Ms. Prentiss,” Archie said. “Why are you here, and why the secrecy?” Justice had insisted no one else be in the room except the three of them.
She nodded at Justice. “He's my bodyguard because someone has put out a hit on me.” Benoit blinked dark lashes over frost-blue eyes. “Someone wants me dead and we were wondering if that person is you."
He started shaking his head before she finished speaking. “Absolutely not. No. I can assure you both that I am not a part of this.” He brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes and met her gaze. “Your father is a despicable human being, but I would never hurt a man's family to punish him. That's more Roger's signature."
Justice spoke. “We know he was behind your scandal. Did you want revenge bad enough to kill his daughter?” His voice was quiet, yet heavy with unspoken promises. All of them deadly.
Benoit must've heard it, because his eyes widened and color leached from his tanned skin. “I am many things, sir, but I am not a murderer. That kind of pain isn't something I'd wish on my worst enemy.” He turned back to Myka. “Even if he deserved it."
She believed him, which meant the real culprit was still out there. Despair beat at her, bowing her head. Justice put a hand on her knee and gently squeezed.
"Ms. Prentiss—Myka, I'm really sorry.” Benoit stood with a hand outstretched. “I hope you find the answers you're searching for."
Myka got to her feet with Justice's help and took his hand. “Thank you."
"I'm debating your father tonight, on live TV. Does he know about any of this?"
"No, he doesn't,” Justice said. “And we want to keep it that way.” Again, the implied threat in his voice rang through clearly. Myka gripped his hand in hers, partly in warning, but mostly for support. Her knees had begun to shake uncontrollably.
A knock came on the door of the bus. “I have to go,” Benoit said. “But please, take a minute if you have to.” With a nod, he turned and exited the vehicle.
At the sound of the door closing, Myka crumbled into Justice's arms. “He's still out there,” she cried into his chest. “The person who wants me dead is still out there."
"And I'll find him.” Justice squeezed her close. “Ssh. I will find the person responsible, Myka.” He rubbed her back in circular motions. “No one will hurt you."
He said he'd keep her safe. She had to believe he would. Pushing away from him, she swiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. I'm done feeling sorry for myself. For now, anyway.” She managed a watery half-smile. “I reserve the right to lose it from time to time, but only if you're there to hold me through it."
"I'll always be here to hold you, Myka.” He kissed her long and deep, then pulled back. “Come on, let's go."
"Go where?” She hugged him around the waist as they made their way out of the bus.
"Anywhere. We're in Manhattan, let's go sightsee."
Sightseeing turned out to be very informative. Justice took her on a trip down memory lane as they traipsed up and down TriBeCa. When her feet began to ache from the walking, they pigged out on pizza and smoothies while he did his best to make her smile. She couldn't keep a straight face when he mentioned his friends and their antics. Maybe one day she could meet them. She'd love that, to be brought into his world fully. To be a member of his family.
They were in a relationship now, but Myka didn't want to hope for more. She couldn't allow herself to invest too much until the threat hanging over her head was dealt with. Until that happened, she wouldn't stop looking over her shoulder or be at ease. And she wanted all of Justice. She wa
nted his heart, but how to broach the subject of I think I might love you. Do you feel the same? After they found and got rid of the threat to her, she'd sit him down for a serious discussion about their future. Gah, he would love that.
After the pizza, Justice dragged her along as he disappeared into a triple X store. She stood to the side, hugging the wall in the small space, as he went about buying God knows what. She didn't care to look. Not that she was embarrassed. Nope, only a little scared. And a lot excited.
Her core heated and clenched at the thought of Justice using any toys on her. Last night he'd promised anal sex. An ex-boyfriend from years past had talked her into doing it and after the initial pain she'd loved it. It required trust, giving up your control or at least stifling it. Justice didn't just ask for her surrender, he demanded it.
Myka sank her teeth into her lip. It's been a while since she'd ventured into the anal side of sex, but...umm, she couldn't wait.
He came out of a backroom with a red shopping bag in his hand, cell phone to his ear. Her eyes devoured him as he strode to her in his familiar black. The dark aviators covering his eyes made him look more mysterious and sexier than ever. He didn't seem to notice, but she took stock of the women on the street staring at him, cataloguing his sharp features and three-day-old shadow. Only she knew that under those butt hugging jeans he was going commando.
"Yeah, she's right here.” He handed her the phone. “It's Stefan."
"Hey, Stef.” Side by side, hand in hand, they walked out of the store.
"Boss lady, everything good?” Stefan sounded breathless.
"Yes. Why?” She frowned as they headed toward the subway.
"You're MIA,” Stefan pouted. “Plus you're keeping that delicious hunk of dark meat all to yourself. Just thought I'd check in. See if you needed any help with...stuff."
She giggled. This one thought he was slick. “Stuff, huh? What does Chris think about your helping me with stuff?"
"Oh, ah...” Stefan coughed, cleared his throat. “I was thinking along the lines of what he doesn't know?"
"Ha ha. Tell you what, we're about to jump on the train. Why don't I bring the dark meat over for you to drool over?” Next to her, Justice chuckled.
"Ooh, will you?” Myka could imagine him bouncing in his chair. “I mean, if you insist."
"Oh, I insist. See you in a bit."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twelve
* * * *
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the store. Myka made out Stefan's face pressed up against the glass, eyes wide in anticipation. Giggling, she motioned Justice to enter ahead of her. She'd never seen her assistant so worked up before, and she figured she owed him for taking care of the store. The least she could do was pimp Justice out for a bit.
Inside the store, she waited until the two women browsing the lingerie aisle made their purchase before she grabbed Stefan's hand and turned him to face Justice.
"Stef, you haven't been properly introduced, so allow me.” She pointed a thumb at Justice. “This here is Justice Alexandre, we're...uh, in a relationship.” Wow. Saying those words brought a flash of heat to her skin.
"Really? That was fast.” Stefan grasped Justice's hand in his and looked from him to her. “Tell me everything—no, wait. Don't.” He placed the back of his left hand on his forehead in a dramatic fainting gesture. “I completely forgot, straight sex bores me."
Justice laughed. “Thanks for taking over things here for Myka.” He winked, Stefan sighed. “I know she has no worries with you in charge."
Stefan's chest puffed out. “Well, hell, I'm just happy she's got you in her corner.” His eyes softened as he turned to her. “She needs someone to help her with that ignorant father of hers."
"Stef—” Her friend saw too much. She didn't confide much in him about her father, but he'd been witness to many of her ugly scenes with the senator.
"Don't Stef me, you know it's true.” He placed both hands on his hips and looked at Justice. “Promise me you'll take care of her, and watch out for that slimy Roger."
"I promise.” Justice didn't hesitate. Myka's heart warmed and she couldn't hide the silly grin spreading across her face. She was lucky, and in that moment she felt it.
"Okay, guys. You're making me feel all girly and shit.” She leaned over to kiss Stefan on the cheek. “When I get some time we'll have lunch."
He nodded, his eyes locked on Justice. “Bye, guys. Don't be a stranger, Justice."
"I won't be.” Justice shook his hand, then walked over to the door and stood guard while she hugged Stefan.
"He's so delicious,” her friend whispered. “How's the sex?"
"I thought straight sex bored you?"
His arms tightened around her. “Just answer the fucking question if you want to live,” he hissed.
Chuckling, she released him and walked away. Over her shoulder she said, “Better than you can ever imagine."
Stefan's mouth gaped open.
"I'm going to take a shower,” she told Justice as they entered the apartment. “When I'm done, we'll brainstorm."
"Brainstorm what?” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it on the back of the couch.
"Our next move,” she said. “Come up with another possible candidate who wants me dead.” She toed off her boots as she pulled her blouse over her head.
Justice stilled in the process of unbuttoning his jeans.
"What?"
"Nothing.” He shook his head. “I'm just—I love your body. Do you know that?"
Trailing a hand down her stomach, she grinned. “No, I didn't know that. I'm rather fond of yours myself."
Heat flared in his eyes. Answering moisture soaked her panties.
"Do you want to share a shower then?"
Wet, slick skin rubbing against each other? Hell, yeah. She nodded demurely. “Sure."
"Go on ahead.” His lips curved. “I'll be there soon."
Myka kicked off her jeans and strutted away from him with her hips swaying and heart pounding.
The bathroom was simple yet elegant, at least in her opinion. She doubted Justice would think of it in those terms. The tiled walls were a golden brown, and the bathtub sitting off to the left of the room next to the toilet could fit at least four grown adults comfortably. To her right was the dark granite counter top and sink, and the shower took up most of the far wall. Myka stood in front of the round mirror overlooking the sink and pinned her hair up. Then she stepped into the shower and turned on the pipes. Warm water massaged her body from all sides as the heads were strategically placed to the back, front, left and right of the space.
"Oh, yeah.” Eyes closed, she turned her face up to the spray.
"Any room for me in there?"
She looked over her shoulder as Justice stepped in, naked muscles bulging. Myka grinned. “There's always room for a naked man in my shower."
"Better be just enough space for one.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, rubbing his hard front to her back. She leaned into him with a sigh and shudder. “Need some help scrubbing your back?"
"I do.” She nodded and turned around. “There are some hard to reach areas I'm thinking only you can get to."
"I aim to please.” He stretched a hand outside the shower door to the caddy hanging there. Milk and honey shower gel and washcloth in hand, he squirted the soap into the cloth and lathered her front.
Myka gasped and closed her eyes as he rubbed her chest and circled first one, then the other breast with exquisite slowness, never once touching her aching nipple. She arched her back, braced a hand on the glass door when he dipped to her stomach. His finger ringed her navel, tugged at the diamond there before his attention dropped to the area between her legs.
The rough material of the washcloth brushed her clit and she moaned, widening her stance. He swiped once, twice, then bent to her thighs when she rolled her hips. Her fingers curled and her eyes snapped open, but he only soaped her feet before he straighten
ed.
Nostrils flared wide, his eyes narrowed in obvious arousal, Justice said simply, “Turn around."
She did as he asked with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, body on fire. Sticky juices dripped down her thighs, blending with the water. Justice scrubbed her back then cupped her butt and did the same. Breath caught in her throat, strangling her as he dragged the cloth along the crack of her ass. She couldn't help the needy wiggle of her hips.
"Done,” he rasped.
Myka stepped under the spray of the water, rinsing away the soap on her skin. So he wanted to torture her, hmm? Well, she could reciprocate.
She turned back to him. Grabbing the rag, she squeezed soap onto it then raised an eyebrow. “Care to be washed, Mr. Alexandre?"
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Go for it."
"Don't mind if I do.” Myka grinned and proceeded to rub the soapy cloth over his wide shoulders and smooth chest. She paid extra attention to his puckered nipples, using the washcloth first, then catching the dark buds between her index and middle finger. His breath hitched.
She smiled and continued her brand of torture, blazing a trail down his stomach to those hills and valleys of his eight pack. The muscles there tightened and bunched at her touch. Myka dipped the cloth even lower, past the black curls of hair on his groin, to his cock. The aroused organ bobbed under her close scrutiny, the smooth, purple tip swollen and oozing translucent liquid. Her mouth watered.
Wrapping the cloth around the length of him, she squeezed with one hand, gently cupping his balls with the other.
"Ugh, Myka.” He bucked, thrusting fully into her hand. She ignored him, making sure she lathered him up completely. Must make sure her man was all clean. She giggled to herself.
Sitting back on her haunches, she looked up at him. “Turn around, stud."
His jaw worked, those gorgeous facial features harsh and unforgiving. Slow and hesitant, he turned, giving her his back as he planted one hand on the glass door. Myka got to her feet and soaped his back with smooth caresses. Scratches decorated his shoulders, all from her. She didn't spend too much time on his back, instead she dropped to her knees again. Now her eyes were on the prize she sought...his ass.