Crime Lord's Paradise: Crime Lord Series 4.5

by Mia Knight

  Crime Lord's Paradise

  Crime Lord Series, Book 4.5

  Mia Knight

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2018 Mia Knight

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:

  authormiaknight@gmail.com

  Dedication

  To those who can’t get enough of Gavin Pyre. This is for you.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Author's Note

  Books by Mia Knight

  About the Author

  1

  The sound of her feet rhythmically hitting the treadmill was the only sound in the exercise room. Listening to music only distracted her from what she was doing. Her eyes moved restlessly over the mirrored walls to reassure her that she was alone. The machine’s display was covered by a gun and her cell phone. The phone played a live video feed of Nora asleep in the nursery.

  Lyla embraced the burn. Running had become her go-to when she couldn’t sleep or when her stress level was through the roof. She trained with Blade daily even though Gavin was out of the underworld. It kept her active, focused, and ready for anything.

  It had been three months since Steven Vega died in Hell. Three months yet it felt like yesterday. Some days she felt normal, hopeful even. Other days, she felt as if she had weights strapped to her ankles. Today was one of those days. She wanted to lock herself in the basement, turn off the lights, and deal with her demons in peace.

  As if on cue, the door behind her opened, and a man in a suit entered. She watched him approach in the mirror. Her husband stopped beside the treadmill. She got a whiff of his cologne as she panted, and he smelled amazing, as usual. He was home later than normal. She’d been grateful for the reprieve, so she could work out her bad mood because she wasn’t up for an interrogation. There was no doubt in her mind that’s what she was in for after her excursion today. Blade never failed to fill Gavin in on every little thing.

  “You’re done,” Gavin said.

  “I just started,” she puffed. “Give me thirty minutes. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

  He slapped the off button, and the tread immediately slowed from a sprint to a walk. She glared at him. He looked as alert as he’d been when he left at four this morning. His gray tailored suit fit his broad, muscled frame perfectly. His white shirt was open at the throat, showing off his tanned, defined chest. Black hair was slicked back, and his stunning amber eyes were assessing as they moved over her. She wanted to bite him for looking so composed and controlled. Nothing affected him.

  She hopped off the machine and paced with her hands on her hips. “I left some food out for you.”

  He didn’t reply. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed he was tracking her as she circled away from him. She didn’t want to be touched right now. She wanted to be alone, but clearly, he wasn’t going to accommodate what she wanted. She didn’t want to discuss it. Gavin could be bullheaded when it came to ripping off Band-Aids, and she wasn’t ready.

  “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she said pointedly, willing him to leave her be.

  “Come here.”

  She shook her head as she marched restlessly. “Give me ten minutes.”

  All day she kept a chokehold on her emotions for Nora’s sake. She did her mommy role the best she could when she wanted to shoot something. Now that her baby was asleep, it was her time. Or it would have been if Gavin would give her space.

  “I just need some time alone, Gavin.”

  “You’re not gonna get it.”

  She whipped her head around. “I don’t interfere with your workout time!”

  He walked to the punching bag and reached for something. When he turned, she saw he was holding black hand wraps.

  “Blade says you like boxing. We can do some mitt training,” he said.

  Blade introduced her to boxing two months ago, and it had quickly become her latest obsession. It would take hours of running to take the edge off her foul mood, but boxing would accomplish the release she needed in half the time. She came forward and held out her hand for him to bind it. He grasped it and drew her against him.

  “Kiss me.”

  She looked up. Intense hazel eyes bored into her. His energy pulsed in the air. Gavin was always on, always ready for anything. In the past, she shied away from his aggression, but now, she leaned into it. He was her savage. He may spend most of his days in an office tapping at a keyboard, but her husband was a warrior beneath the ten thousand-dollar suits. They had been through hell and back together.

  She braced a hand on his muscled chest and rose to her tiptoes. She gave him a quick, close mouthed kiss. When she would have pulled away, he grasped her nape to keep her close and applied pressure on her chin so her mouth opened. He covered her lips with his and slanted his head to go deep. His tongue stroked hers, and he let out a low growl of pleasure. He drank from her as if he couldn’t get enough. She dug her nails into his chest and tensed, fighting his drugging effect on her. He massaged her neck, coaxing her to relax, but she couldn't. She was too revved up. She pushed away from him and staggered back.

  Gavin's hand hovered between them for a few beats before he dropped it. A muscle flexed in his cheek. She roused the lion. She could see it watching her. Baiting him was never wise, but she didn't want to be soothed or petted. She wanted to fight. Today had been an emotional roller coaster, and sex wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Not now,” she said.

  Gavin held out his hand again. She hesitated before she extended hers. He slipped off her wedding ring and pocketed it before he began to wrap her hands. “You want to fight first? Fine with me.”

  “You’re the one who suggested boxing,” she said.

  He taped her hands swiftly, with the ease of someone who did this often.

  “When you're pissed off, nothing's better than stepping into the ring,” he said.

  “You still train while you’re at work?” she asked.

  “Every day.”

  That explained his even temper and ridiculous body. She trained in mixed martial arts, boxing, guns, and anything else Blade decided to throw at her. She had lost a lot of the baby weight she gained during her pregnancy, but she was nowhere close to having a six-pack.

  As she put on her gloves, Gavin shrugged off his jacket and shirt. The light bounced off the fresh scar on his back that he received from a whip. Her hands fisted in the gloves. Fucking Steven. If she could kill him again, she would. She witnessed his death and even kicked his head after it was severed from his body, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be. He had been gone for months, but the rage and pain still festered inside her. Steven forced her to change into a different person, and there was no going back to what she had been before he ripped their world apart. On days like this, when she felt as if she would explode, she longed for a place to let loose the way she had in the pit of Hell. That barbaric place allowed her to indulge in baser instincts she didn’t know she possessed.

  Gavin walked toward her. She admired the ripple of muscles and took note of the bare feet peeking out from his slacks. She raised her gloves and got into her stance. His eyes warmed with approval as he raised his punching mitts.

  “Let’s do this.”

  He started her off with some basic boxing combinations. The sound of her glove making contact with his mitt was immensely s
atisfying.

  “Harder,” he said, and she complied with relish.

  Gavin kept her on her toes. His brand of training was more aggressive than Blade’s. His technique and fancy footwork told her she was in the ring with a master, as if she didn’t already know that. He handled swords with the same ease that he did guns. There was a lot to learn from her husband.

  She didn't have the headspace to think about anything but survival. Sweat poured down her back, and her arms ached, but she didn't stop. She focused on landing accurate hits, being light on her feet, and not getting cornered. Every move he made, she countered. He called out the combinations, and she obeyed. Jab, cross, uppercut, cross.

  He advanced, which forced her to retreat and then fight to regain ground. He called out a series of combinations, which caused her to duck and slip. He jabbed. Her reflexes saved her from a tap that would have knocked her on her ass. She knew she was in no danger since he was pulling his punches, but the near miss made her heart race. Gavin was built like a tank, and the largest opponent she had ever faced off with. He was pushing her to react instinctively. She struck out with a left hook that grazed his chin. He stepped back and stared at her for a long moment before he stripped off the mitts and then unbuckled his belt.

  “Gavin!”

  “What?”

  He tossed the belt and unbuttoned his slacks. He didn’t pull down the zipper, but he didn't need to. He was stating his intentions as if his erection wasn’t obvious enough. Her body responded even though she didn’t want it to. It was hard not to ogle him when his body glistened with sweat. They were playing a mental and physical game that was stimulating in more ways than one.

  He held up his palms. “Come here.”

  She hesitated, eyes dipping to his bulge before she came within striking distance. When he gave her a new combination, she eased back into the exercise, tapping her gloves to his bare hands. She lost herself in the repetition and moved with him. She wasn’t prepared when he grabbed her oversized shirt and yanked her against him. His mouth landed on hers at the same time as he gripped her hair to keep her in place.

  She wrenched their lips apart and winced when he tugged off her rubber band. Her hair cascaded around her. “Stop!”

  “You think I can watch you fight and not fuck you?”

  A solid left hook caught him on the ear and allowed her to dance backward. Her body tingled as he surveyed her with the eyes of a predator.

  “You want to play dirty, baby girl?”

  His voice caused goose bumps to erupt over her body. She’d gone too far, but that had never stopped her before.

  “No, I don’t want to play dirty. I want to box,” she panted.

  “No, you want to fight,” he corrected.

  His stillness made her heart race. She took two more steps back even though distance wouldn’t make a difference. Her husband was a master of war. She’d seen him in action. She had no chance of escaping him, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

  “Lucky for you, I’m willing to oblige,” he said gently.

  The sound of his zipper being undone seemed unnaturally loud. She looked around, but there was nowhere to run. She backed onto some padded floor mats and Gavin followed, clad in only black boxers.

  “Gavin, let me run on the treadmill for a half hour,” she said raggedly.

  Her arms trembled from boxing, but her chest was still tight with emotion. She was hyped on adrenaline and close to burning herself out. If they trained a little longer, she might get a decent night of sleep.

  “You’re overworking your body.”

  “I’m fine!”

  “You trained two hours this morning, and now you’re going at it again,” he said, revealing exactly how familiar he was with her daily activities. “You’re done.”

  “I’m not! I need a little more—”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because he lunged. He dodged her jab and kicked her legs out from under her. She landed flat on her back with the wind knocked out of her. When he crouched over her, she boxed his head, enraged at his foul play.

  “You cheated!” she shouted.

  “When have I ever played fair?”

  He stripped off her gloves and kissed her taped, sweaty fists.

  “We are not having sex!”

  His grin made her see red. She positioned her feet on his hips and propelled herself away from him. He cursed as she leapt to her feet, but before she could take a step, a stinging grip on her ankle yanked her off balance. Her hands hit the ground to break her fall and then scrabbled over the mat as he yanked her backward with a grip on her shirt, ripping the thin material over her shoulders. In full combat mode, she kicked back with her free leg and caught him on the chest. He growled as he flipped her on her back.

  “You want to fight, baby?”

  “No!” she spat as he yanked her ruined shirt from her body. “I want to be left alone!”

  “How many times have you asked me to let you go and how many times have I done it? Never.” His hand closed around her throat and squeezed. “The more you fight, the more I want you. You should know that by now.” She went still beneath him, and he smiled. “Playing possum isn’t going to work.”

  He tucked his face against her neck. His deep inhale made her pussy clench.

  “I want you more now than I did when you were young and worshipped me.”

  “Those days are long gone,” she snapped.

  She grabbed his thumb and yanked savagely, loosening his hold on her neck. She would have squirmed out from under him, but his weight kept her in place.

  “Yes, they are,” he agreed and pinned her hands over her head and unzipped her sports bra. “Now I don’t need to hold back.” He squeezed her nipple and grinned at her enraged bellow. “Still sensitive, baby?”

  “Yes, you fuck! I told you not to—” Her voice died when he put his mouth on her breast. She bucked beneath him, but he didn’t move an inch. Fucking tank. “Gavin, don’t!”

  He mumbled something around her nipple and sucked hard enough to make her curse.

  “I’m going to kill you!” she shouted.

  “Then who’s gonna take care of Nora in the middle of the night?” he asked absently as he massaged her breast. “What’s this bruise?”

  “Nora! Apparently, she likes to bite just like you, you ass!”

  He chuckled. “That’s my girl. She’s getting wilder by the day.”

  “Yes, and you’re not helping. You give her everything she wants.”

  “Of course, I do. Just as I give you what you need.”

  “You’re not giving me what I need! I told you I want to be alone.”

  He flicked her nipple with his tongue. She jerked as a streak of lightning shot through her.

  “What you want and what you need aren’t the same thing. Lucky for you, I know the difference.”

  “I told you I’m not in the mood.” She shrieked when he bit her. “Cut it out!”

  “Don’t lie,” he said, laving her tortured nipple with his tongue. “You want me.”

  “I’m not lying. I don’t want …” Her voice died when he cupped her.

  “What’s this?” he asked silkily.

  “That’s sweat.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Lyla.”

  “Give me twenty minutes.”

  Gavin trained her from a young age to respond to him, and unfortunately, she’d never become desensitized. No matter what he did, she wanted him. But she didn’t want him when her head was fucked up and her blood was boiling.

  “Twenty minutes for what? To beat the punching bag until you’re exhausted? As it is, you’re going to be sore tomorrow. You won’t be able to hold Nora.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” he said with such confidence that she believed him. “There are other ways to work out your demons, baby girl.” His fingers worked between her legs, wedging the thin material of her yoga pants in places it shouldn’t be and began to rub exper
tly.

  She grabbed his wrist but didn’t possess the strength to pull his hand away. In the end, she was helping him. They stared at one another as she soaked her underwear.

  “Blade’s training is showing,” he said gruffly as his eyes moved over her topless body. “You’re not allowed to train with anyone but him. I don’t want anyone seeing you like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Angry, slick, fierce. That’s mine.” He licked her chest scars and hummed as if he was tasting a delicacy. “We should spar more often.”

  She panted as the heat between them built. He was channeling her dark emotions into something else. He applied more pressure, which made her thighs tremble. His eyes were lighter now, revealing that his beast was completely aroused. She rocked her hips into his hand and stilled as a memory began to intrude, snuffing out desire and replacing it with icy rage.

  “Let me—” she tried to negotiate.

  He pressed his forehead against hers. “Focus.”

  She glared at him. “You fucking focus.”

  One hand cupped her face while the other continued to stroke her. “Stay with me.”

  “I’m right here.”

  “No, you’re somewhere you don’t need to be.”

  Her chest ached with feelings she couldn’t set free. She closed her eyes as he pressed light kisses over her face.

  “Feel me, Lyla.” His lips slid to her cheek and then her neck. “I need you here with me.”

  Her breath hitched as he sucked on her neck.

  “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

  “There’s no fixing this.” A cloud of hopelessness had hovered over her all day, and she combatted this by being pissed off. It was better than crying.

  “No matter what, we have each other,” he rumbled.