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Merciless King (Lawless Kings, #5)

Page 17

by Sherilee Gray


  She nodded.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered.

  I couldn’t wait another second and leaned in, fisting her dark sexy-as-fuck hair, and pressed my lips against hers, savoring the taste of her, the softness of her lips. I forced myself to pull away before I lost my head.

  “See you a little later,” I said to a dazed London, then walked out.

  I couldn’t remember being happier in my whole shitty life.

  London

  Nerves fluttered in my belly when Van knocked at the door.

  I straightened the skirt of my dress and went to answer it.

  Was this really happening?

  “The truth is, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I didn’t want an easy out. I didn’t want out at all.”

  He never wanted an out.

  His words from earlier that day had been swimming around and around in my head. He wanted this. He wanted us.

  He wanted me.

  I pulled the door open and my breath rushed from my lungs. Van stood there, tall and gorgeous in a suit. It was midnight blue and he wore a white shirt underneath, open at the collar. His strong, tanned throat looked sexy. Could throats be sexy? Apparently, because I wanted to lean forward and nuzzle that strip of skin, lick it.

  “Hey,” I forced out, feeling incredibly nervous. “You look nice.” Major understatement.

  His eyes weren’t on mine; they were taking me in, a slow perusal from my spike-heeled shoes all the way up to my hair. Then his heated gaze came to mine and I thought my knees might give out.

  “Fuck, London.”

  It was all he said, all he had to say. He liked the way I looked, it was in the tone of his voice, the emphasis behind it. No one had ever looked at me that way.

  I flushed with pleasure.

  He watched this and cursed, then he stepped forward and cupped the side of my face. “Christ, you drive me wild.” He slid his fingers along my jaw, making me shiver. “Pack a bag, sweetheart. You’re staying with me tonight.”

  I didn’t argue. Why would I? I wanted that, too, more than anything. “I’ll be right back.” I rushed to grab a bag and threw in what I’d need for the next day.

  When I walked back out, Van watched me with undisguised hunger.

  “We better go,” he said when I reached him.

  I was tingling all over, desperate for him to kiss me, but he was holding back, and I didn’t know why. I was done tiptoeing around this man, and I was done waiting for what I wanted. That wasn’t who I was anymore. So I dropped my bag, reached up, took hold of the lapels of his jacket, and tugged him down. His mouth met mine and I kissed him fiercely.

  He growled against my mouth when I pressed closer, when I sucked on his succulent lower lip and slid my tongue against his, angling my mouth under his, deepening it.

  He let me have my way, let me lead, and I took full advantage.

  I finally pulled back and smiled up at him triumphantly.

  Van didn’t smile. No, he looked rattled.

  I smiled wider, feeling extremely pleased with myself.

  “Trying to keep it together here, sweetheart. You kiss me like that again, and we won’t make it to dinner.”

  Oh, I liked that. A lot. “We better go, then,” I said.

  Van grinned and I melted even more.

  Van took me to Nova. I’d never been to the restaurant before and it was beautiful, all dark and moody with low lighting.

  As we walked through the room, several women watched Van pass by. Attractive, slim, gorgeous women. He didn’t seem to notice. He also completely ignored the waitress when she flirted outrageously with him right in front of me. In fact, he was almost cold with her, abrupt.

  But when he looked at me there was nothing but warmth. No, warmth was too gentle a word.

  Van took a sip of his beer and leaned back in his seat. “So you’ve been going to dance class at Steph’s?”

  When I looked up, I expected to see humor dancing in his eyes, after he’d walked in on me drunkenly gyrating on the pole in Steph’s dining room. There was no humor, just more of that heat.

  “Uh-huh, yep.” Not the most articulate of answers, but I was struggling to think of actual words with him looking at me like that.

  “You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he said.

  “It’s hard not to with those women. They’re kind of awesome.”

  He dipped his chin. “They are. And seeing you with them, so happy, so free…I liked that, baby. I liked it a lot. You looked fucking beautiful dancing, laughing. You’re always beautiful.”

  I lowered my eyes, unable to hold his. His intensity was too much for me at times. “Thank you,” I said, because what else could I say to that? I made myself lift my chin and look at him. “They’ve made me feel like I belong, I guess. Shared with me. It turns out we have a lot in common.”

  Van nodded. “All of them have had serious shit to deal with in the past, stuff that a lot of people would have been crushed by. They’ll understand you and what you’re going through better than most. I’m glad you have people you can talk to.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  “You know I’m here for you as well, don’t you, London?”

  I wasn’t sure where this was going. “Yes.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  My eyes met his and electricity snapped between us. A live current crackling and arcing. My face heated as desire exploded through me.

  Van’s nostrils flared.

  He felt it, too.

  “Dessert?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

  His lips curled up—not a smile, something else, something wicked and raw. “I’m saving dessert till we get home.”

  Right on cue, I flushed hotter.

  He laughed softly, a sound that had me squirming in my seat. Van didn’t miss this, and the laugh cut off abruptly.

  “Ready to go?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, heart pounding in my chest.

  He asked for the check. We were mostly silent while we waited, the air seeming to grow thick. Van paid then held my chair as I stood and, placing his hand at the small of my back, led me out to his car. The whole ride home, he had his big warm hand on my thigh, sliding it up and down, squeezing it.

  By the time we finally reached his apartment, I was trembling with need. We climbed into the elevator and another couple followed us. Van’s hot gaze never left me, and I wondered what would have happened if we were in there alone. A pulse started throbbing between my thighs.

  We walked out onto his floor and I watched as he unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, he took my hand again and pulled me inside. A moment later, I was pressed against it, Van’s big body crowding me.

  “I know we have more to talk about, London, but I haven’t been inside you for over two weeks, and I want inside you so bad I’m close to losing my damn mind. You good with that?”

  I nodded, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. Our mouths came together, and he wrapped his arms around me. We made it as far as the couch. Van’s shirt came off next and I reached down, unbuckling his belt, tearing open the button and zipper of his pants.

  I shoved at his shoulders and he let me, dropping to the couch.

  He watched me as I kicked off my shoes and reached up under my dress, tugging my panties down and sliding them off.

  Van grabbed a condom from his wallet, shoved his boxer briefs down, and quickly rolled it on as I hitched up my dress and climbed onto the couch as well, straddling him.

  “Need you, London,” he gritted out, fisting his cock.

  I felt it at my entrance, and I leaned in, kissing him again as I lowered myself onto his hard length, taking him inside my body. He groaned into my mouth, my moan mingling with his.

  His hand went to my butt, fingers digging in, and he slammed up inside me. I started moving with him instantly. My entire body shook and I gasped every time he filled me
, the way he stretched me, shuddering as I lifted up until he almost slipped free, then grinding back down against him.

  One of his hands lifted to the side of my face, the other the back of my neck. I broke the kiss, panting, moving faster, harder. He pressed his forehead to mine, his dark gaze locked on mine.

  “Fuck, baby. You feel good, so fucking good.”

  “Yes,” I said, though it was more a moan. I was close, so close.

  “Couldn’t stand being apart from you, sweetheart,” he gritted out then nipped at my lower lip. “You’re not leaving me again, are you, baby? You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here with me? Tell me you’ll stay here.”

  I couldn’t answer because my orgasm exploded through me. I cried out, shaking and shuddering against him.

  “Fuck,” Van bit out then he growled and slammed up into me.

  I felt him thicken and pulse deep inside me. His hands dropped back to my ass and he started moving me on his cock, thrusting up, taking over, coming with me.

  I couldn’t move, but I didn’t have to. I’d barely recovered when Van stood and, still inside me, carried me to his room. He lay me on the bed, earning another moan and shudder as he slid gently from my body and strode to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.

  When he came back, he was completely naked, and I watched him with hooded eyes. He helped me undress, since I was near useless, and climbed in with me. He pulled the covers over us, then dragged me over his body.

  He stroked my back and down to my butt, and I sighed with pleasure.

  “Will you?” he said, voice gritty and low.

  I was struggling to stay awake, let alone follow what he was saying. “Hmm?”

  “Stay. I know I have no right to ask, but yeah, I’m asking. Don’t leave. Don’t move away. Stay, London.”

  Okay, now I was fully alert. I lifted my head. Yes, I’d contemplated leaving when I thought things were through with Van and me, but I hadn’t thought about it in the last week, not really. It didn’t hold the same appeal, not anymore.

  “I’m not leaving,” I said.

  He let out a rough, shuddery breath. “And will you stay here with me?”

  I frowned, but my heart skipped a beat at his words and what they might mean. “I just said I was staying,” I said cautiously.

  “You don’t know this, ’cause I’m a stubborn asshole and get in my own damn way a lot, but I haven’t just wanted you for a couple of weeks, London,” he said, ignoring what I’d just said. “I’ve wanted you for close to two years.”

  I stilled.

  “I saw you that first day while I was parked outside your apartment. I was there to do my job, but every time you walked by, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I looked forward to it, watching you stroll by in your pretty dresses and carrying your flowers, so fucking beautiful, so sweet.”

  I stared at him in shock. I knew Van had been working a case when he saved me close to two years ago—he’d told me what happened, but I’d had no idea he knew who I was before he burst into my apartment and saved my life.

  “I wanted you back then, so bad, and walking away from you when you recovered was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He shifted his fingers through my hair. “My father was an angry man, an abusive man. He took that anger out on Hunter and me, on our mom. But Mom and Hunter got the worst of it for a lot of twisted, fucked-up reasons. And I blamed myself for not being able to protect them. I’ve carried that guilt nearly all my life. I always thought…” He shook his head. “I’ve got this anger inside me, London.” He started massaging the back of my neck. “I would never hurt you or anyone I care about, but if someone hurts you, you have to know that I would feel no remorse taking that person out. None. I have some of him in me, and that part of me, I didn’t want it touching you.”

  I cupped the side of his face, hurting for him, for what he’d been through. I hated knowing he’d suffered like that, but so incredibly humbled he’d shared that painful part of his life with me. “I know you’d never hurt me.”

  “You were so fucking sweet and perfect, I hated the thought of you seeing that rage inside me. Seeing what I’m capable of and being disgusted or afraid. And I knew, after what happened, I would destroy anyone who tried to hurt you. Christ, London, when I walked into your apartment and…he was hurting you.” His jaw tightened. “Something snapped inside me. Baby, I hadn’t begged for anything since I was a terrified kid. But that day, trying to stop you bleeding out, holding you in my arms, working on you until the paramedics arrived—you better believe I begged. I begged and pleaded with you, with anyone who was listening, for you to hang on.”

  I pressed my finger against his lips, stopping him, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. What he was saying tore me up. I had no idea. “You need to understand this, to really let this sink in…I would never—could never—be afraid of you. That part of you that you think would disgust me, that fierce protective side of you, makes me feel safe. So safe, Van. Safer than I’ve ever been in my life. I needed that and you gave it to me.”

  “Yeah?” he said hoarsely.

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  “That’s good, because you need to know that I don’t plan on walking away, not this time, not again. We’ve wasted enough time. I want you here with me. I want you to move in.”

  I blinked and a tear streaked hotly down my cheek. “You do?”

  “I love you, London, and being apart from you fucking sucks, so let’s not do that shit anymore.”

  I grinned. “I love you, too.” I pressed my mouth to his. “And yes,” I said against his lips. “I’ll move in.”

  He kissed me fiercely until I was breathless.

  “You just made me so fucking happy, sweetheart.” He rolled, taking me to my back, and looked down at me. His eyes flashed dark and wicked and hot. “Now I want my dessert,” he said and kissed his way down my body.

  17

  London

  Van: Sorry, babe. Caught up at work. Pick you up at eight.

  * * *

  I stared down at my phone and grinned. Van wanted to start moving my stuff to his place tonight and I had no objections. Not one. Excitement rushed through me, like it had been all day, making me giddy.

  * * *

  London: It’s fine. See you when you get here x

  * * *

  I could barely contain myself, like I might burst out of my skin at any moment from happiness. How was it possible for someone to be this happy? I never thought this kind of joy existed, not really, not for me.

  I walked into my building, greeting Albert the doorman before I climbed into the elevator. He looked a little flustered but smiled in return.

  I was running through a mental list of things I needed to do as the elevator ascended. I needed more boxes for one. It’d be a good chance to get rid of some clutter, though, to go through my clothes and do a drop-off to Goodwill.

  My apartment was so different than Van’s, and so was my furniture. I had cushions and rugs and a couple of lamps that were girlie and I totally loved. But Van said I could do whatever I wanted, get rid of his stuff and use mine or keep both. He said he wanted me to make the apartment home for the two of us. Flutters started up in my belly again.

  My grin was huge when I walked out of the elevator and started toward my place. I glanced up and stumbled to a stop.

  Terrence Ferida stood by my door, and as soon as he saw me and my reaction, he lifted his hands in surrender, backing away several steps. He was shaking and crying.

  “Please,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to scare you, I just…I need to talk to you. I need to apologize.” He slumped against the wall by my door, lifting his arm to cover his face as wracking sobs shook him harder. “God, I’m a pathetic mess,” he said miserably.

  Seeing him was startling. He looked so much like his brother. But this wasn’t Owen. Owen was dead—I’d killed him. Terrence was obviously hurting, and I couldn’t help but feel sympathy fo
r him, despite what he’d done.

  Still, I slid my hand in my bag, curling my fingers around the pepper spray I carried as I approached cautiously. I stopped a few feet away from him. “What are you doing here, Terrence?”

  He lifted his head, dragging his sleeve across his eyes to wipe away the tears. His eyes were red, cheeks puffy. He was smaller than his brother, finer boned, and shorter as well.

  “I wanted…no, needed to apologize to you for my part in what happened. For not turning Owen in right away.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “It’s over now. We need to try and put it all behind us.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, voice wobbling. “I know this is asking a lot, but will you have a coffee with me? Somewhere public,” he added quickly. “I know seeing me must be…unsettling.”

  It was a hell of a lot more than unsettling. I wanted him to go away, to pretend he didn’t exist, but the truth was Terrence was a victim of his brother as well, and he was in pain. With the state he was in, I was worried he might actually hurt himself. If I didn’t take a moment to talk to him, and he did something like that…

  “Okay,” I said. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street.”

  His shoulders drooped and he let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

  We took the elevator and headed down the street to the coffee shop a block from my apartment building. Terrence got us drinks and we sat at a table by the window.

  He took his mug in both hands and sipped, eyes down, like he couldn’t meet mine when he started talking. “I am so incredibly sorry, London. You have no idea how much. Every time I think about my actions…” He started shaking again like he was trying to contain his emotions. He glanced up at me, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I loved my brother, I did, but there was always…something, something in him. It scared me. He scared me. I’m ashamed to admit this, but that’s the real reason I never told the police I had a brother. He was…violent and growing up I was his favorite toy to kick.” He shuddered. “But you have to believe me, I never thought he was capable of…of what he did. I never thought he’d kill anyone.”

 

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