Versions (The Blacklist Series Book 1)

by Mitcham, Megan

  “Why not? He’s not really the bad guy here.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  His jaw set. He folded his arms and the bulge of his biceps swelled.

  “He doesn’t know Popov is a Soviet spy.”

  “He tried to beat the shit out you to maintain his cover. A man who can screw a woman one night and smack her around the next is worse than Popov. At least she’s loyal.”

  Rin gasped and her heart cramped. “You heard everything. That’s what you were saying last night.”

  “Just stop.” His teeth ground together. “I’m a dick. I shouldn't have said anything.”

  Her stomach pitched. He probably watched her and Nate go at it all the time. She bristled. “I’m not going to apologize for liking sex.”

  He scoffed. “You shouldn’t and I didn’t ask you to.”

  “But you have this judgmental look that’s making me sick to my stomach.”

  “Well, talking about it isn’t great for me either,” he snapped.

  “What? Are you a prude?” She folded her arms across her breasts, shoving what little cleavage she possessed into his face.

  “Just let it go or you’ll end up pissed,” he said, lifting his palm from his arm.

  “I’m already pissed.” Her cheeks burned.

  “You deserve to be loved, to have a guy love your body and worship it with everything he has. He used you like a fist for a quick jerk, and then he rolled over and went to sleep.”

  “Did you ever think that I was the one using him? No, you didn’t, because society has programmed you to think that way. A woman should find a nice guy, fall in love, get married, and have some snotty little kids. Well, I don’t do mushy. I don’t do love.”

  “You never let anyone get close,” he said with a sad shake of his head. “Me neither. But I’m willing to admit that holding the world at a distance sucks. It’s exhausting and damn lonely.”

  “Screw you,” she yelled because his words hit too close to her version of the truth, the one she couldn’t admit to herself.

  “Not just for pleasure.” His thick brow arched.

  “For what, then?”

  “Your heart.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “I saw it last night.”

  “You must have been deliriously tired.”

  “No, you were. That’s how I caught a glimpse.” He leaned forward, snatched his phone from the chest, and then closed and locked it. His lips opened to say more, but he hesitated. His heels caught traction as he turned and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?” she yelled at the back of his head.

  “Out.”

  “She said to stay put.”

  “She also said not to fall in love with you.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard,” she quipped.

  “Too fucking late, is what it is.” He reached the door, turned, and heaved the screeching metal, rolling it between them.

  “You can’t love me,” she panted against the quivering of her heart. “You don’t know me.”

  “I watched you for a year, Rin. I know you better than you know yourself.” Their gazes locked and the eroded metal slowly broke the trance.

  17

  He came back three hours later to find her asleep on the bed. Her tear-stained face snuggled into his pillow. Guilt for leaving her gnawed, but if he’d stayed they’d have accomplished nothing but hurting each other. He unpacked and stowed the groceries before slicing up potatoes, seasoning them, and forming hamburger patties.

  “Where are you going now,” she whispered from across the room as he headed to the door.

  When he turned she shoved the hair back from her face and wiped at her eyes. “There’s a grill on the roof.” He presented the tray of food and utensils in his hand as explanation. “If you can stand my company, you’re welcome to come.”

  She rested her head on her knees. “You left. Not me.”

  “Would you have, if you could’ve?”

  “Probably. It’s what people like us do.”

  He nodded, hating the truth of it.

  “Let me pee and I’ll go with you.”

  After she finished her business they fell into step on the long walk to the roof.

  “Ever think of installing an elevator?”

  “There’s a lift.”

  “Then why are we hauling our asses up the steps?”

  “It’s good for the ticker.”

  “In that case you’ll live forever.”

  He held the door for her at the top. Rin sat at the patio table and stared off into the sky while he heated the charcoal and cooked. “There’s beer and water in the mini fridge to the left of the door, if you want something.”

  Her gaze catalogued him for a full minute. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “When you’re scraping to stay alive there’s no room for love.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m not scraping. I have a trade—if you will—and it pays well enough that I only contract out a few times a year.”

  “And love?”

  He flipped the burgers. “To be in love, the object of your love has to reciprocate those feelings. And she’s not ready for that.”

  Her footsteps crunched the gravel as she shuffled to the fridge and then to his side. She handed over a beer with the top already twisted off. “Can I help?”

  “You just did.” His lips rimmed the cold bottle and he took a long pull. “Why’d you choose the street? You had a choice.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “That’s life.”

  “I was angry at the world. So, I channeled my rage the only way I knew how.”

  “I bet they never saw you coming. I sure didn’t.”

  He glimpsed the smile she hid behind her bottle.

  They watched the sun slip beneath the horizon and ate in easy silence. He took the remaining six buns, loaded them with lettuce, tomato, and condiments, and then topped them with a patty each.

  Her eyes bugged at the remaining food. “You planning to eat burgers for a week?”

  “Nope.” He handed her a stack of napkins. “Will you wrap these while I clean up?”

  “Sure,” she grinned with wary eyes.

  After everything was situated he hauled the large tray and they headed down. The closer they came to his flat the higher unease crept up his neck. Rin bebopped through the open doorway. He lagged.

  “What is it?” she asked, spinning on her heels.

  “I have to do something. I’ll be right back.” He hurried down the stairs before she could respond.

  At the back door, Luck punched in his security code and the lock popped. He twisted the knob and stepped into the alley.

  “Smells like our lucky day,” Ottis’s thick voice rumbled. The big man’s white teeth peeked from behind his thin lips and he offered his hand. He wore long sleeves and pants despite the heat. And alley grime dirtied his boots.

  Luck returned the veteran’s sturdy grip. “Burgers and all the trimmings.”

  “Ooh-we. Me and the boys’ll sleep good tonight,” Ottis said, patting his slim belly.

  “I hope so.” Luck offered Ottis the tray.

  “I thank you, mister. Sure wish you’d tell me your name. You’ve been feeding us for months now and it’s hard praying for someone who hasn’t got a name.”

  “You keep up with those prayers, Ottis. I can use all I can get.”

  “Naw, you’re all right with the Lord. He told me so.” Ottis saluted and walked off to divide out the food amongst his friends.

  Luck locked the door back and headed for the stairs, but stopped mid-room. Rin propped a hip on the Bentley. “What about your tray?”

  “He’ll bring it back tomorrow morning.”

  “You lied to me, Damien Luck.” She crossed her arms and canted her head.

  “I’ve never lied to you.”

  “You’ve never meant to lie to me, but you’re lying to yourself too. So, I won’t hold it agai
nst you.”

  Luck plowed a hand through his hair.

  “You told me you weren’t a good guy. Apparently I’m not the only one here who doesn’t know themselves.”

  18

  He crossed the room, grabbed her hand from the crook of her arm, and gave a gentle tug, coaxing her toward the apartment. The way he gnawed on his cheek endeared him to her all the more. His generosity made him uncomfortable.

  “It didn’t escape my notice yesterday, but I had plenty of other things to hammer out first. What are you doing with a Bentley?”

  “I needed it for the job. No one questions a Bentley rolling through downtown DC—or the person in it. Other times I need to be invisible. Others, maneuverable. It’s just a tool.”

  “It’s a fine piece machine,” she corrected.

  He stopped tugging her up the steps and turned. “It’s a future for Ottis. When your mom is done with me, I’ll sell it, buy a food truck, and he’ll run it for me.”

  “Like I said,” she placed a hand over his heart, “you lied.”

  His brows fell, shadowing his eyes. “Can the good we do make up for the bad in our past?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  He folded his hand around hers and urged her up the steps. Inside, he shoved the door in place, turned, and framed her face in his hands. His gentle pull drew her in. Luck licked at her mouth, stoking a fire that had been banking and building heat so overwhelming it might char them both. The purity of his affection seized her while his lips captured.

  “Rin, let me love you,” he said against her mouth.

  There was that word. He’d already wormed his way into her heart, but that word rattled every ghost in her collection. “I’m scared.”

  “Me too, but I won't let it stop me. Only you can do that.”

  “This is crazy. What do we know about each other?”

  “The important things. The rest will come, if you let it, if you trust me and yourself enough to find out.” His playful smile returned. “I mean, you did already agree to marry me.”

  His callused thumb traced her grin, the roughened pad scraping her surprisingly sensitive flesh. “Guess I need to know if you can bone before we make it official.” She shrugged.

  “You're crazy,” he laughed. “But this isn’t about a good screw. It’s about connecting.”

  His forehead rested on hers as it had when he pinned her to the floor. A forest of long lashes rimmed the eyes that saw every blemish on her soul and accepted them as a part of her. Eyes that allowed her to peer inside to his scarred depths.

  Rin's hands coasted over his rock hard shoulders. She crushed his threadbare T-shirt in her palms and pulled him closer still. “Make love to me, Luck.”

  He enveloped her in his arms. Her feet dangled above the ground. The crushing weight of his embrace secured her to his body. Pounding heart to pounding heart, light scruff rasped her chin. She closed her eyes and felt him. His lips molded to her greedy mouth with a sensuousness that made the world disappear, taking all her problems with it.

  Slow, steady strokes toyed with her tongue. She waited for his big move to get her flat on her back, but it didn’t come. Impatience curled in her belly, peaking her nipples. The longer he exalted her mouth the higher her anxiety ratcheted, distorting her need. Panic—the feeling of being stripped to the soul—incited her.

  Rin wrapped her legs around his hips. Her hips rolled up and down the length of his full shaft. A moan seeped from her throat. Control soothed her. It abated her uncertainty.

  When he took a step toward the bed, and then another, she sucked his tongue into the back of her throat, giving a taste of what she could do with his cock, given the chance. Instead of tossing her onto the bed and covering her with his eager body, he turned away from it, sat on the edge, and pulled back. She clenched her eyes, too scared of what she might see.

  “You’re the bravest, strongest person I’ve ever met, Rin. Don’t let fear lead you in this. You’ll fleece us both.” His arms loosened around her, smoothed up her back, over her shoulders, down her breast, across the globes of her ass, around her legs. He gentled her. “I’ll fuck you so hard and fast you’ll scream for mercy. But this time, I won’t be rushed.” He yanked her mouth to his and began the gentle persuasion all over again. “If you feel bared and angsty, look at me. I feel it too, but I refuse to run away from it.”

  She opened her eyes and found his blues staring back at her. “How can you open your eyes and kiss?”

  “I don’t, not usually, but I want to see you.”

  Little by little, Rin eased her grip on his shirt and her ever-present control. She relaxed into his kiss. Fell into his blurry gaze. Traced the features of his face with her fingers.

  The room shifted beneath her feet again. Instinct to seize control frazzled her nerves. “Love me, Rin.” Luck’s smooth voice croaked the words. The emotion layering his voice sucked her under and diluted her panic.

  “I am loving you,” she whispered. She took control. Not for her, but for him. A warmth she’d never experienced heated her lips over his skin, as if something deeper than the physical attraction connected them.

  With unhurried fingers Rin gripped his shirt and inched it over his head. Where she expected smooth skin, ragged scars littered his sharply muscled torso. Their gazes met. Rin exhaled and pulled her tank top over her head. She swept her finger over her initiation burns, then glided her other hand over the rippled flesh covering his ribs.

  He had other discolorations. An old slicing wound bisected his right pictorial. A round scar too large to be a cigarette burn bloomed over his abdomen. She traced each mark and each unblemished swath of his beautiful skin, while his hands mirrored the action on her body. They both knew the struggle of life on the street and the battles of life on the narrow, which were sometimes greater because civilization had rules.

  His thumb padded her nipple. Rin forgot their past strife and arched into his touch, thankful for once that with her little breasts she didn’t have to wear a bra. Her head fell back. The wet heat of his mouth tugged on her engorged flesh. Sensation mimicked each pull in her throbbing clit. She tried to dampen her reaction, but she writhed, desperate for more.

  Luck rolled her onto the bed and levered over her body. He yanked her shorts off her hips without unfastening them. The muscles in his arms and back bunched into corded lines as he worked. His heavy weight settled between her thighs.

  She watched in slack-jawed amazement while, one by one, he kissed every ugly scar across her belly until his lips crested her mons. His wicked eyes locked with hers a moment before he shoved her thighs over his shoulders. Luck licked his lips and then stroked the wet pillows over her aching nub.

  Their fingers intertwined over her hip. Rin held on for dear life as he kissed between her legs. She’d been eaten out, sucked, lashed, but never kissed. His shoulders opened her farther and his lips tormented with measured pace and pressure. Her head lolled side to side.

  A slide of his tongue through her folds shot pleasure to every extremity. Her hands squeezed his in a silent plea. His gaze lifted. The slickness of her desire coated his mouth. Eyes locked on hers, he flattened his tongue and laved her clit.

  The sight of him hungry and sating himself at her altar topped her list on eroticism. She curled at the sight, her shoulder blades bowing off the bed. His hands shifted from beneath hers, rounded her bottom, and did wicked things to her distended flesh she couldn’t follow for the bliss they poured onto her.

  Finally she figured it out. One finger toyed with her aching rosette, while another massaged her from inside, while another imprisoned her clitoris. All the while his tongue bathed her back to front.

  Oh God, yes.

  She exploded, shot into the universe in so many directions she’d never find all her pieces. A quiet whimper of overwhelming delight echoed with his rasped breaths. He scattered her. He made her look deeper, past the hurt and fear, to…possibilities.

  Luck withdrew his fingers and kisse
d a trail over her blemished stomach. His blond hair curled at the base of his scalp, where sweat beaded. The flat of his tongue danced over her navel and up to her breast. He bathed each mound with care and attention, driving moisture to her already soaked folds. His shoulders raised over her like lean-cut granite.

  He pinched her erect buds between his thumb and forefinger. A moan slipped from her lips. She shimmied beneath him. An unabashed smile arched his lips.

  “Enjoying this are you?” she whispered.

  “Mmm.” His teeth nipped her collarbone, running a trail to her neck and up to her chin. “I’m enjoying you.”

  Rin grinned like a fiend.

  He yanked her thighs to meet his swollen cock, held captive by his jeans. His zipper sang and his knuckles brushed her clit.

  She framed his face and assaulted him with her tongue. “Love me, Luck.”

  “I do.” His blues held hers as he stroked her with the bare head of his penis. “I already do.” His wide crown breached her body. They both gasped.

  Rin dug her hands into his soft locks and held him as tightly as her strength would allow. He didn’t withdrawal, only shoved deeper, and deeper still, until at last they were connected more than the act, more than the words. They just were. Despite the situation. Despite the ridiculous swiftness. Despite their pasts.

  Luck gathered her in his arms and caressed her from inside out with long, even drives. He filled her to the point of pain that melted into inexplicable pleasure. His head brushed the tender spot so easily it rushed a climax she wasn’t prepared for.

  Her breaths grew short, then stilled altogether. He rode her through the ecstasy that crumbled her soul and immediately built it up better than it had ever been. He leaned back, spread his jean-clad knees wide, and rested on his heels. His hands latched onto the top of her hips. As he lifted her bottom, screwing his length in and out of her, the plateaus of his pecs and abdomen bunched and flexed.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I come inside you?”

  No one had ever asked her that before and no one had ever done it bare. The thought spurred her excitement. “Yes,” she panted.