Grabbed by Vicious: 1

by Lopez, Lolita

  “Are you wet, Kitten?” He stroked his cock faster now.

  “Yes.”

  “For me?”

  “Only you,” she whispered, her breaths coming in tight little pants.

  “I’m there with you, Hallie. I’m right there. I’m licking your clit and stabbing my tongue deep inside your cunt. I’m sucking your clit now. I’m sucking it and rubbing my tongue over it the way you love so much. The way that makes you scream.”

  “Oh!”

  He matched her feverish movements. His balls ached and buzzed as they started to draw tight. His toes curled against the floor. He tightened his fingers and raced to the finish with Hallie. She whimpered his name as she came, her body undulating in the chair as her fingers slid through her slick pussy lips and circled her clit. The sight of her coming undone shattered him. He growled her name as his orgasm hit. His seed sprayed his chest and abdomen, the pearly fluid dripping along his rippled abs as he fought to catch his breath.

  Sated and smiling, Hallie closed her legs and caressed her lower belly. “That was amazing, Vicious.”

  “It was pretty damn good on this end.”

  “We should do this more—”

  The screen blinked red and the connection failed. Frustration welled inside him. He supposed it was a good thing it hadn’t failed earlier. He probably would have stomped the screen to bits if it had. At least they’d been able to come together and enjoy a little bit of afterglow.

  He tapped his screen and put the call on delayed connect. As soon as a satellite became available, the call would go through again. He took advantage of the quick break to rush into the bathroom and clean up.

  As he wiped at his belly, he thought of the quick conversation they’d shared. Just where the hell was Terror? It wasn’t like him to be unavailable. Something else bothered him. Hallie had done that twitchy cheek thing when he’d asked her about Terror. She’d done it a couple of times before, especially when he’d been questioning her about her sister. Back then, they’d had the secret of the Red Feather between them.

  But why in the world would she lie to him about Terror?

  The question still niggled at him when he returned to his office. The screen flashed yellow now, alerting him that a satellite connection was coming online. He settled into his chair and waited for the green screen to return. When it did, he sat forward, fully expecting to see Hallie’s smiling face waiting for him.

  But it was her empty chair that greeted him. He assumed she’d stepped away from the communication console so he called out, “Hallie?”

  There was no answer. As he listened, he heard the faintest murmur of voices. Curious, he turned up the volume on his end, maximizing the feed from her end. He recognized the voices now as Hallie’s and Terror’s.

  “We can’t tell Vicious,” Terror said, his voice low and tight.

  “No,” Hallie agreed. “This will be our secret.”

  Vicious went rigid in his chair. A secret? Between his Hallie and Terror?

  “Take off your pants, Terror,” Hallie urged. “Get on the bed.”

  The blood in his veins ran cold. Hallie, his Hallie, asking Terror to remove his pants and get on her bed? No.

  Terror laughed. “If I’d known this was all it would take to get you to strip me naked and crawl into bed, I would have booked this trip weeks ago.”

  Vicious slapped at the screen.

  He ended the call and fell back into his chair. His stomach lurched painfully. His chest burned and his heart felt as if it was being ripped in half.

  Hallie and Terror? In bed together? His sweet, beautiful Hallie was committing adultery with his best friend.

  As the shock of his inadvertent discovery faded, rage gripped him. In all his life, he’d never been so furious. The pain of this betrayal cut so deep. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He balled his fists at his sides and fought the urge to fly out of his chair and batter the black vid screen in front of him.

  Terror was a dead man.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hallie frowned at the red screen. She couldn’t believe the satellite had dropped their call. Of all the times for it to happen! They’d just shared an incredibly intimate moment and she needed a little reassurance that she’d done it right. It was her first vid-sex, after all.

  Annoyed, Hallie got out of her chair, slipped into the shirt again and ducked into the bathroom. When she came out, she started toward the desk but stopped at the strange thudding noise coming from Terror’s room. What in the world?

  Hallie grabbed some shorts and hopped into them. There was a crash and the sound of breaking glass. Worried, she rushed to the door and flung it open.

  It was dark in Terror’s room, so dark her eyes needed a moment to adjust but once they did, she took in the scene in a matter of seconds. Movement near the balcony caught her eye. The gauzy curtains whipped in the night breeze. The pale light from the moon spilled into the dark room. She glanced down and spotted Terror on his belly facing the open double doors.

  A man straddled his back and had a belt looped tightly around Terror’s neck.

  Though Terror kicked and twisted, there was no escaping that stranglehold. He’d lost his weapons. One of them, a sharp, gnarly looking knife, rested on the floor next to his bed.

  Hallie didn’t think. She simply acted. She snatched up the knife and flew at the man trying to kill her husband’s best friend.

  She slammed the blade into the man’s neck and jerked the knife forward through his windpipe, severing the tissues and blood vessels there. He gurgled and slumped to the side, his arms waving and clutching at his throat in a frantic panic. She shoved him aside and grabbed Terror’s shoulders.

  When she rolled him onto his back, he gasped in long pulls of air. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips tinged with blue. She tugged on the belt, loosening it from his neck. “Oh god. Terror! Are you all right?”

  He blinked at her and gripped her wrist. She feared he didn’t recognize her after all that trauma and lack of oxygen. He couldn’t talk but nodded.

  The last death rattle of the man she’d stabbed drew both their gazes. Her stomach lurched and bile started to rise in her throat. She’d done that. She’d stabbed a knife in that man’s throat and killed him.

  Terror squeezed her hand. His scarred face showed such pain. Not physical pain but emotional. It was guilt that twisted his face now. “Hallie.”

  There was no mistaking the anguish in his voice. She shook her head. “Not now, Terror. We don’t have time.”

  Certain Terror was going to live. She hurried to his bed and grabbed the thin duvet. She tugged on the top sheet and carried both back to the man she’d just killed. She tried not to look at his face, his expression frozen in pure horror. “We need some kind of plastic, Terror. He’s going to bleed everywhere.”

  Terror made a grunting noise as he shoved up on his feet. Moments later, he returned with a trash bag from the receptacle in the bathroom. He threw open his suitcase and retrieved a roll of silver fix-all tape. She glanced away as he ripped free his knife and covered the dead man’s face and neck in the bag. He used the tape to hastily secure it below the fatal wound she’d inflicted.

  “That should keep most of the blood in place,” Terror said, his voice low and scratchy. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s not my first dead body.” She started to lay out the sheet and duvet. “Hurry. We need to move him and wrap him up.”

  Terror stared at her for a second before nodding. They quickly placed the dead man on the bedcovers and bundled him tightly. She sat back on her heels when it was done and stared at the lumpy shape. The memory of her mother’s lifeless, bloodless body wrapped up like a mummy assaulted her. Even at that extremely young age, she’d been forced to help prepare the body and wrap it in the white death shroud. Bernie had completely broken down. Kerri had fainted and sat speechless and stupefied in the kitchen. A female neighbor and the midwife had shown Hallie how to clean and wrap her mother’s body. />
  Now she’d used those skills on this man. The reality of what she’d done slammed into her. Horror struck. “I killed a man, Terror.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  It wasn’t his cold reply but the pain in his voice that made her look at him. He winced and placed a hand to his bloody thigh. She realized then that he’d been injured. “Damn it, Terror! Why didn’t you tell me you’d been hurt?”

  “I didn’t realize until just now. Lights!” The room instantly brightened. He grunted as he surveyed the slash in his leg. “It must have been the broken glass.”

  “You think?” Hallie asked sarcastically as she helped him stand. “Do you have any medical supplies?”

  “In my bag,” he said, panting now. His voice was tight when next he spoke. “We can’t tell Vicious.”

  She eyed him and finally nodded. “No. This will be our secret.”

  It made her ache to even think about keeping this from Vicious. How could she go back to the Valiant and pretend nothing had happened? She’d just killed someone.

  The sight of blood staining Terror’s pants brought her back to the present. This man would die if she didn’t help him now.

  “Take off your pants, Terror,” Hallie urged. “Get on the bed.”

  Terror laughed. “If I’d known this was all it would take to get you to strip me naked and crawl into bed, I would have booked this trip weeks ago.”

  “Be serious,” she begged. “You’re going to bleed to death. No jokes.”

  He snorted. “It’s a flesh wound. I won’t bleed to death. And I’ve had worse, Hallie.”

  Her gaze followed his gesturing hand to his face. “Yes. I suppose.”

  “We’ll do this in the bathroom. Too much blood,” he explained. “There’s a full med kit in my bag. Bring it with us.”

  Hallie found the red pouch in his luggage and trailed him to the bathroom. While she soaped and scrubbed her hands, Terror stripped out of his bloody clothes behind her. There was no way to ignore his lean, muscled form, especially in just his boxer-briefs. He was attractive, of course, but she wasn’t the least bit interested. Where Vicious had all the bulk of his massive frame, Terror sported the leaner, meaner look. Now she knew why.

  “I take it your mission didn’t go as planned.” She waited for Terror to climb into the bathtub and stretch out. She was glad it was designed for taller people.

  “On the contrary, it went beautifully.”

  “Really?” Hallie placed a towel on the floor and laid out the supplies she would need. “Call me crazy, but there’s a dead guy wrapped in a blanket in your hotel room. That doesn’t sound beautiful to me.”

  “That wasn’t related to the mission.”

  Hallie’s hands stilled. “I killed an innocent man?”

  “Hell no!” Terror shook his head. “That man is a cold-blooded killer, Hallie. He’s an old enemy of mine. He and I have been playing cat and mouse for years now.”

  “He got the drop on you tonight.”

  Terror’s lips settled into a grim line. “Yes, he did.”

  “And got snuffed out by a farm girl from the most backward planet in the Alliance,” she muttered, pulling on a pair of gloves. A terrifying thought flashed through her mind. “You know, if he’d killed you, he could have killed me.”

  “I’m sure that was his plan.” Terror watched her intently. “I think he wanted to strike at us. Kill me and the general’s woman?” He shook his head. “It would have provoked one hell of a response.”

  “Yes, well, he failed. No innocent people will die because of us.”

  “No.” He gestured to the supplies. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  She nodded. “I had some midwifery training so I learned to suture. One of the doctors from Safe Harbor who provided us with medical supplies trained us to render basic first aid.”

  “You were heavily involved in the Red Feather movement.” He hissed as she rinsed the wound to get a better look. It was a clean cut and wouldn’t be too difficult to suture, she hoped.

  “You know I was.”

  “You were very young to become involved with that kind of underground work.”

  “I was quick and quiet.” She opened the deadening injection that came with the kit. “This is going to sting.”

  “It’s fine.” He winced as she jabbed the needle into his gaping flesh. “You worked in smuggling at first, yes?”

  “Yes. I had the stamina and the speed to carry small packages like medicine from the drops to the village or other rendezvous points. They were long runs, sometimes four and five miles in the dark and through the woods. Later, I moved to escorting women and children and even some men out of the village. That was slower, more dangerous work.”

  “But you didn’t let it stop you.” He gave a little nod. “It’s dead. I can’t feel anything from my hip to my knee.”

  “Good. And no, I didn’t let it stop me. Every time I agreed to take an assignment, I imagined that it might have been my mother trying to get us to a better place. It made it worth the risk.” She opened a suturing kit and readied the needle and thread. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

  “Better you than me,” he reasoned. “Unless you’re squeamish?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m just not sure it will be very straight when I’m done.”

  Terror laughed and pointed to his face. “I’m sure you’ll do better than Vee.”

  Surprise shook her. “Vicious sutured your face?”

  He nodded. “You don’t want to know how. Suffice to say medical supplies were in short supply in that prison.” He shrugged. “We made do.”

  “I’ll try to make it look nice.” She mentally recalled all the finer points of suturing she’d been taught before taking that first stab into his skin. Terror didn’t move or grunt as she sewed him back together. “You know, Vicious is going to be furious if he finds out about this.”

  “About you looking at me half-naked or the dead man in my hotel room?”

  Hallie gawked at him. “You’re crazy. The dead man, obviously.”

  “I don’t know,” Terror replied. “Vicious is pretty touchy when it comes to you.”

  “That’s because he loves me.”

  “Yes, he does.” Terror didn’t sound thrilled to admit it.

  “Why does that bother you?” She finished the last few stitches. “You act like him loving me is a bad thing.”

  “It makes him weak.”

  Hallie paused and peered at Terror. He wasn’t joking. He truly believed that. Sadly, she said, “You just don’t get it, Terror. Maybe you never will.”

  “What’s there to get? Loving a woman makes you weak. Look at Vicious. The man has become soft.”

  “Vicious? Soft?” She scoffed in his face and applied the antibiotic gel. “You obviously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really?” Terror baited her. “Last week, I found him counseling one of his soldiers. Before he met you, this was a man Vicious would have given a swift kick in the ass and ordered him right to the front lines for some toughening up, but not anymore. No, now he wants to hold their damn hands—and that’s your doing.”

  “So? What’s so wrong with showing some kindness and patience?”

  “Vicious is running a battle group, Hallie, not a nursery! And it’s not just the way he treats the men,” Terror added. “It’s the way he interacts with his officers. Do you have any idea how many invitations for private parties in the officers’ club he’s turned down in the last few weeks?”

  “I don’t, but his reasons for declining are none of your business.”

  “Probably not,” he agreed, “but I know my friend. I know that he used to love those parties. There was nothing he enjoyed more than engaging one of the paid submissives for a night of debauchery.”

  Jealousy bit Hallie, the sting of imagining Vicious with another woman so painful she flinched. “He has a wife now. Things are different.”

  “Clearly,” Terror said
meanly. “The old Vee, the man who was my best friend, would never have let you lead him around by his dick the way you do.”

  Hallie’s stomach dropped. Was he right? Had Vicious changed totally just for her? Was he miserable denying that side of himself? She clamped her teeth together as pain overwhelmed her. Why would Terror say something like that to her? She thought he was nice but maybe he was just a miserable, mean bastard. Rising to her feet, she snapped, “I think you can finish this.”

  “Hallie, wait.”

  “Go fuck yourself, Terror.”

  It felt so good to use the crude language she’d heard the soldiers aboard the Valiant use. No wonder they preferred the spicier language. Sometimes a good “fuck-you” was the only thing that worked.

  Her gaze lingered on the dead man rolled up against the wall. The horror of her part in this mess punched her in the face. Oh god. She’d killed a man. He might have been a homicidal maniac but that didn’t change the facts. She’d committed murder.

  Hallie rushed out of Terror’s room and into her own. She slammed the door closed behind her and slumped against the wall. Her legs gave way and she slid to the floor. She squeezed her hands together in her lap and tried to fight the painful sob that tore from her throat. Guilt engulfed her.

  Terror knocked once and then shoved the door open. Still in his boxer-briefs but sporting a clean bandage on his thigh, he stepped inside the room and spotted her on the floor. He stared at her for a long while before exhaling roughly. He slid down next to her, keeping his injured leg straight, and stared at the opposite wall. “I’m sorry,” he said finally.

  “I don’t believe you.” She gritted her teeth.

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “I want Vicious.” Her desire to see her husband threatened to break her. “I need him.”

  “I know you do.” Terror took her hand and curled it inside his own. “He’s not here. You’ll have to make do with me.”

  “You’re not good enough.” She let a little cattiness slip through, hoping to wound him as much as he’d hurt her with his words.