Blood Deep (Blackthorn Book 4)

by Lindsay J. Pryor

  ‘You’re breaking a lot of rules, con.’

  ‘Story of my life,’ he said as he hooked his thumbs over the waistband of her underwear. In a slow and purposeful move, he slid the fabric down over her behind.

  Her instinct was to grab his wrist and stop him, but whatever lay deeper than instinct focused only on him sliding her underwear to mid-thigh in a move that was as steady, as taunting and as controlled as the gaze that never left hers.

  Placing a hand over each of hers as they remained braced on the table, he nudged her legs closer together just enough to let her underwear slide down her thighs, her calves, until hitting the floor.

  Placing his booted foot between her sock-clad feet, he nudged her legs apart again, his thigh pressing between hers, sending a jolt through her as denim brushed her clit.

  Her eyes widened involuntarily, something that clearly hadn’t gone unnoticed by Eden, as the tiniest hint of a smile curled his compelling mouth.

  This was a game to him – and one he was clearly adept at. One he clearly felt he had the upper hand in.

  ‘I like rule-breakers,’ she said, her mouth coaxingly just a few inches from his as she pushed her hips forward slightly, pressing her sex against his thigh so he was sure to feel the dampness accumulating there.

  ‘Encouraging the worst in me is not going to help your cause right now, Jessie.’

  ‘On the contrary. I bet the worst in you brings out the best in me. Why don’t you try?’

  A hint of a smile graced his lips again as his hands left hers to grasp her hips. In a move that she didn’t fight, he turned her away from him. She clutched the edge of the table again as he slid her cardigan and chemise up over her now bare behind, replacing it with himself as he pressed tight against her.

  Keeping one hand on her hip, he slid his other slowly up over the outer curve of her behind, the inner curve of her waist, up to her exposed breast, causing her nipples to stiffen painfully and send shooting sensations deep between her legs on his explorative journey to gently clasp her throat.

  ‘You know all the right things to say, don’t you, Jessie?’ he said against her ear.

  Her nails involuntarily dug into the inside fabric edge of the pool table she was superficially trapped against. ‘And clearly you know all the right things to do. It takes a skilled lover to know how to hold with possession not aggression.’

  ‘Depends which you’re looking for,’ he said as he nudged her thighs a little further apart, his breath caressing her ear again.

  More sensations pooled between her legs, her sex throbbing as the increased distance allowed more cool air to lick between her thighs.

  ‘You’re a tease,’ she said, a little more breathlessly than she would have liked.

  ‘And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’

  He released her hip only to glide his hand below her belly button, easing her back against him, away from the table, just enough to tuck his hand down between her legs. She flinched as she felt his strong, warm fingers against her sex, her toes curling into concrete.

  But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t utter a word as he caressed her with a pressure that was shockingly gentle, his thumb skilfully finding her clit and sending a cloud of haziness over her.

  She lowered her head as she held her breath, his grasp on her throat tightening slightly, just enough to remind her he was in control.

  Or liked to think he was.

  She knew she could have shoved him backwards, struck him on the side of the head with a blow from her elbow. She could have stamped hard on his groin, before kicking him clean in the face, knocking him out cold if the force of the blow didn’t kill him outright.

  But as his thumb continued to circle the most sensitive, most responsive part of her sex, as his middle finger found its way through her wetness to ease just a little way inside her, she instead clamped her eyes shut, felt herself fall back against him despite her sustained grip on the pool table.

  Never had she been touched so intimately – not that she could recall. Even if she had shared such intimacy before, she was sure it had been nothing like this. Right then, Eden’s touch felt as fresh, as exciting, as forbidden as if it was her first time. And alone with him, in the candlelight of what felt like their own private, secret domain, the temptation to forget her plans, to give him her consent, was overwhelming.

  The intensity of her response to his touch alone told her how dangerous that territory was though. A territory that would enclose her even more. A territory that would inevitably lead her to feel more for him than she dared. And she had far too much to worry about already than being left feeling more alone, emptier, than she did already.

  Aside from seeing use in her skills, he was proving that, like any other con, all he wanted was sex – just like he wanted from Tatum, just like he’d no doubt take from any other female who was offering it to him on a platter.

  Except for Mya. He’d shown no interest in Mya when he so easily could have taken what she had to offer up on that isolated roof. But she may have been the exception to the rule. He might have simply sensed the ambush.

  She jolted from her haze of thoughts as he pushed his middle finger deeper, his thumb applying a mouth-gaping amount of expert pressure on her clit, enough to make her thighs ache, her sex throb.

  She had to get back on task. Fast. She had to end it before he convinced her otherwise.

  ‘This is you at your worst?’ she said, snatching back a breath. ‘It doesn’t feel bad to me.’

  He exhaled tersely, his breath caressing her shoulder and entwining with the hair at her neck. ‘Wet though you are,’ he said, his deeply masculine tone laced with the rasp of escalating arousal, ‘all that tension in your body means if I fuck you now, it’s going to hurt. Is that what you want? Is that how far you’re willing to take this?’

  Her stomach flipped, just the thought of him taking her there and then no doubt coating his fingers with a wetness that would convince him she was willing. ‘Depends. Are you willing to take it that far?’

  ‘Depends,’ he replied. He paused for just a moment. ‘On how long you’re planning on letting this continue before saying that definitive no you have scripted as much as the rest of this set-up.’

  Unease fisted in her stomach as, horrified, a split second later she realised her plan was as transparent to him as his understanding now was to her.

  ‘That is what this seduction routine is about, right?’ he added, just to confirm it.

  In response to her lack of denial, in an impressively swift, fluid and well-practised move, he slammed her down on the table.

  She instantly wanted to retaliate, not least in fear of what he might find. But he seemed to have every intention of leaving her clothing in position despite kicking her legs further apart. Within seconds it felt like a very different kind of restraint to what she was used to. A difference that was as shocking as it was compelling. Because though Eden held her down, it wasn’t with anger, it wasn’t with hatred and, seemingly, didn’t echo any intention to hurt her – a move simply intended to protect himself against her retaliation.

  ‘You brought me down here hoping I’d do something to justify you killing me, didn’t you? It seems this place has rubbed off on you more than I thought. I’m disappointed.’ His lips brushed her ear as his hard chest pressed against her back. ‘But let’s get one thing clear right now – I don’t mind it rough, I don’t mind it hard; I’ll play out whatever role-playing fantasy you’ve got, however dark and however twisted. But when it comes down to it, I want it legit, I want it mutual and, the platinum rule, I want it consensual. So I’m sure as fuck not going to degrade and demean myself, or you, by being the scum you’re clearly hoping I am so you can get rid of me. Nice mind-fuck, darling, but, next time, pick someone with less experience and most certainly less self-respect.’

  She flushed with embarrassment, with humiliation, as he let her go and retracted.

  Turning to face him, using the table behind fo
r support as she trembled with frustration, with whatever arousal-induced heat congealed low in her abdomen, she glared back at him. She needed his actions to fuel her justification, not leave her feeling foolish and out of her depth.

  Instead, he snatched up his beer and created some much-needed distance between them in the awkward silence.

  ‘You knew,’ she hissed quietly.

  ‘Keeping me here with the threat of Pummel looming was ingenious,’ he said, as he sauntered over towards the sofa. ‘But you shouldn’t have locked yourself in here with me as well.’

  She snatched her underwear from the floor, pulled it back on in a futile attempt to regain her dignity, to appease her humiliation. ‘Because?’

  ‘Because that sick little game you just set up proves me right – you can’t bring yourself to kill me without a better motive than the one you’ve got. Like I said before – we both know I’ve done nothing wrong, Jessie. Now all you’ve done is prove I’m not going to do anything wrong.’

  ‘Only because you’re too scared to show me what you really are.’

  His laugh was curt, fleeting, dripping with as much masculinity as his stance as he swept his tongue over the back of his lower teeth, one hand resting on his hip, the other holding his beer loose by his side. ‘Fuck you, Jessie. Don’t think for one minute you’ve worked me out.’

  ‘Fuck you, Eden. I’m not interested enough to work you out. You had your chance to take my advice. This ended for you the minute you walked through that door.’

  She crossed his path as she headed to the pile of books stacked next to the sofa. Throwing the first two onto the sofa, she opened the next one down. She took out the keys, turned to face him as she tauntingly spun the hoop around her finger. ‘If you’re going to rest on your laurels, that’s fine. I’ll join you.’ She lifted the hem of her cardigan to expose the hip band of her knickers. Parting the metal loop, she wound the key ring through the elastic hip band. Crossing back in front of him, she leaned against the pool table again and folded her arms. ‘Either way, I get what I want and you lose. Unless you manage to get out of here.’ She shot him a hint of a triumphant smile. ‘Good luck with that.’

  * * *

  Her challenge did nothing to ease the ache and throb of his ready hardness – a hardness that needed relief. It wasn’t helped by her glancing down at his groin as she shifted the weight on her legs, jutting her right knee out instead of the left and drawing his attention back to those firm, smooth thighs.

  She had got one over on him. Because now, as she leaned against the table, the image of vulnerability with a glare of titanium, she knew her greatest strength was that, unlike him, she didn’t have to play cautious.

  Jessie wanted to push him too far, whereas if he did the same with her, he knew there was a chance he was going to end up face down dead on that concrete floor – or lose her in the process. The odds were unfair. He needed her alive, she needed him dead – it was hardly a level playing field. And with still no clue as to what she was, he had no idea of the challenge he was truly facing. She’d cornered him and she was right – Pummel wouldn’t be impressed if he didn’t show up. And with a matter of hours to go, the clock, as usual, was ticking.

  But to her disadvantage, her confidence wavered under his scrutiny, exposed by the tension in her thighs, in her hands as they clenched the table. She really didn’t want to do this. She really needed him to act.

  She had seriously underestimated him.

  ‘Oh, cut the bullshit,’ he said, meeting her glare. ‘If you want me to rip them off this time, you’ve just got to ask.’

  Her laugh was curt. ‘If I had any intention of taking Tatum’s seconds, I already would have.’

  He raised his eyebrows slightly at her spark of feigned arrogance. ‘Is that right?’ He knocked back a mouthful of beer as he sauntered back over to her. ‘Well,’ he said, placing the beer back on the pool table beside her, ‘we’ve still got a few hours to go. A lot can happen in a few hours.’

  ‘Exactly. And all it will take is for you to lower your guard for just one second. I hope you’ve got good focus, Eden. I’m guessing you have, having spent a few years in a penitentiary. Good-looking guy like you, you must have had to have watched your back every minute.’

  He smiled. It evaporated quickly. ‘Unlike you, having Pummel to watch yours for you. Have you ever even tried to survive on your own? What has he got over you? Why kill for him?’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not killing for him.’

  ‘You’re planning to kill me because you’re scared of him. That tells me you’re not quite as powerful as you think. You might have made out like I’m Pummel’s puppet, but clearly that’s exactly what you are. A mindless puppet. But I’m not going to make this easy for you because, unlike you, I won’t be bullied into doing anything I’m not willing to do beyond my own convictions.’

  Her eyes narrowed a fraction more. ‘Tick-tock, Eden.’

  Her stubbornness, her resolve, pushed too many buttons.

  As he closed the gap between them, she stood upright again.

  ‘Wary,’ he said, holding his gaze on hers. ‘Okay, now this feels like a game.’ Standing her ground, she didn’t flinch as he eased the hem of her cardigan to her hip to examine the keys. ‘So, I have to get those off you and unlock those padlocks, let alone the one in the outer room and get back to the house before you catch up with me.’ He looked back into her eyes with a defiant smile. ‘Fuck, I love a challenge. This place truly has beaten you more than you’d like to admit, hasn’t it? Left you so fucked up that you truly believe this is the only option.’

  ‘Because there’s another? You’re just going to walk out of here like nothing happened?’

  ‘You bet I will. Because the fact I’m still standing, the fact you even let it go that far between us should tell you that, deep down, you want me to walk out of here. Those words coming out of your mouth might have been fake but your reactions weren’t. From where I was standing, you were even starting to enjoy it.’

  She drew back her fist with lightning speed.

  A split second later it felt like she had splintered his jaw.

  10

  Jessie caught her breath, shocked not only by how quickly she’d erupted but how painfully, painfully bad she instantly felt about it.

  What surprised her though, what truly surprised her more than the guilt, was how minor her impact had been – as if she’d subconsciously put no real power behind her punch.

  In some ways she was glad she hadn’t. Her set-up might have failed but if anything else was finally going to bring out the con’s true colours, it was that. No con with a violent streak, a history such as his, was going to take being beaten on, let alone by a female.

  She moved away from the pool table and braced herself.

  Eden’s head remained locked to the right, the back of his hand held against his lip.

  As he looked back at her, those dark eyes unreadable, her stomach churned, sickness forming at the back of her throat. Because every instinct told her not to hurt him. Every instinct told her to apologise even. It wasn’t him who’d gone one step too far, it was her. Now the guilt damned up inside her, ready to break unless he attempted to hit her back. And then it would be over in seconds.

  He moved his hand and spat blood from his mouth. ‘Ouch,’ he said, his glare unflinching, his body now turned fully towards her again.

  She clenched her hands in preparation. ‘That was me being gentle.’

  He raised his eyebrows slightly. ‘Yeah?’ In a move almost undetectable in its speed, he kicked her leg from under her.

  She instantly lost her balance, her behind slamming to the floor, the back of her head following swiftly after.

  It dazed her for just a moment.

  ‘And that’s me telling you I’m not,’ he said.

  Hand to the back of her throbbing head, she felt the indignation erupt in her chest. She pulled herself to her feet. It had been a long time since she’d used i
t, had to feel enough anger to use it, but as she closed the gap between them, she slammed her palm flat on his chest, hitting him straight in the heart like a defibrillator, flinging him back a few feet.

  She shook her hand at the mildly painful electric shock that reverberated back through her from lack of practice. All the same, it was a sharp and powerful shock to him – enough to cause him to arch his back as he hit the concrete floor, to grit his teeth, to expose the length of his neck as the top of his head skimmed the floor.

  She stepped back over to him.

  ‘What the fuck?’ he hissed, hand to his chest.

  Either she hadn’t transferred enough power, or her blood that still lingered in his system remained too effective. If she didn’t act immediately, she knew she wouldn’t act at all.

  Locking into combat mode, suppressing every thought of retreating, she straddled him. Pressing the hand he held over his heart to the floor, she slammed her palm back onto his chest ready to finish the job.

  She had to. Despite the tension in her throat, the pain of regret in her chest, she had to end it there and then.

  But she underestimated the strength of the con she’d attempted to pin down, let alone his determination.

  Using his free hand, Eden grabbed her wrist, wrenching her hand away from his chest before she had a chance to summon enough energy. Taking advantage of the open loop of her fingers around the wrist she held to the floor, he freed that too. Clamping it to her hip, he slammed her onto her back, pinning both her wrists to the floor, confirming her blood in his system was most definitely giving him an added edge.

  She was quick and strong enough to resume control though. She flipped him off her, straddling him once more. Knees and shins flat to the floor either side of his hips, she slammed his hands even harder against the concrete floor, no doubt grazing his knuckles enough to draw blood.