The Death of You

by Allyson Young

  Rafe’s dark eyes dropped leisurely over her body, and her nipples responded. So did her pussy. Such arousal wasn’t foreign anymore; it was heightened, and she considered letting the bath towel slip free before she remembered Connor’s edict, and took in how tired Rafe looked. He’d been up all night while she regenerated, thanks to their foresight, and she was being sexually selfish.

  “Breakfast will be ready soon. I had a quick bite before I came up.” He pushed further into the bathroom. “I’d have washed your back, sweetheart.”

  Maybe her intense Dom had that caregiving side after all. Gesturing at the empty cubicle, the glass walls still steamed up and dripping with moisture, she said, “Sorry, but go ahead. You look exhausted. I’ll get out of your way and—”

  The fabric in her hand dropped to the tile floor and the material wrapped around her body lost its purchase, falling away under Rafe’s determined hands. The man moved quicker than a cat, and Maddy quit thinking as he ravished her mouth. He tasted of bitter coffee and something darker, and his hard body pressed against hers without allowing any space between them.

  Pulling his lips from hers, Rafe smiled down at her. “Never too tired, Maddy, when I find you in our bathroom, looking like this.”

  The man must be addled from too much caffeine and lack of sleep. No makeup, sopping hair, her root growth delineated by the fact her hair was wet, pale as a ghost—she hardly looked like a treat. But she knew better than to say anything, because she’d rather have Rafe fucking her than taking it out on her ass. She’d seen him punish a recalcitrant sub at the club, and she well knew neither he nor Connor would allow her to denigrate herself and challenge their perception of her. Or maybe he’d fuck her after he corrected her. Deciding she’d have no choice in the matter, she followed him back to the shower. He ushered her inside, losing the boxers.

  “I’ve already showered.” She thought she should make a token protest, the orgasm Connor had given her still very prevalent.

  “Then step up on the lip of stone there, put your hands against the wall and set your feet apart. Arch your back and wait on me.” And just like that she was wetter and totally ready for him, her sex throbbing in anticipation. She, who never liked to be told what to do because of Abbott’s high-handedness, yet was drawn by the concept of dominance and submission, welcomed the certainty emanating from Rafe. Because he and Connor would always consider her well-being, even when it might sometimes be just about them.

  Rafe took the quickest shower possible in her estimation, although she suspected he’d have preferred to draw out her anticipation. She rolled her lips to conceal a smirk, certain he’d know she was smiling at his urgency, when the soap clattered back into the holder and he took hold of her hips.

  “I’ll rinse off after. I can’t wait,” he muttered, confirming her assessment.

  Shoving up against her ass, his cock a hot brand against her flesh, Rafe slipped a hand beneath her torso to grasp a breast, squeezing it roughly and driving her arousal higher. When he tugged the nipple, stretching it, before releasing the tender bud and treating her other breast the same, she cautiously pushed back into his erection. Her heels were right on the edge of the stone lip, a strange addition to a shower, until she realized it had been added to bring a shorter person up to a taller person’s level—for some shower shenanigans. Clever.

  “You ready for me, Maddy?”

  “I am.” Need threaded through her voice. Rafe chuckled, a husky sound against her shoulder. His lips landed on the scarring from Abbott’s cruelty.

  “Gonna fix this up, sweetheart. You trust me? Us?”

  “I do, Rafe. But please…” She dared to wiggle against him and his erection slipped against her wet skin, the soft, velvet feel making her shiver.

  From the corner of her eye she saw him pull up the cover of a container set into the wall and retrieve a small square of plastic. Always prepared, it seemed. “I’m on birth control. And clean. I promise.”

  Rafe’s hand faltered for an instant. “Can’t do it, sweetheart. Not until Connor is with us.”

  “Are you sure you guys aren’t doing one another?” They were so thoughtful about the other, and if they extended that to her, she’d be the luckiest woman ever.

  She heard him sheathe himself, the wrapper fluttering to fall by her right foot. He smacked a butt cheek and she gasped at the sting before it warmed into a far more interesting feeling. “We share women sexually. Shared. And now there are certain things we’d never take from the other.”

  She got all gooshy inside. She liked being a certain thing and she sighed. Then any sense of softness vanished as Rafe drove his cock unerringly through her entrance, past the clinging walls of her sheath and bottomed out at her cervix. Maddy screamed at the pleasure/pain sensation and scrabbled at the stone wall with her fingertips, her feet slipping against the power of Rafe’s fucking. He secured her weight against him with an arm around her hips and braced his other hand beside hers.

  He took her without mercy, in silence, his pelvis slamming repeatedly against her bottom. The sounds of their union were a wet counterpoint to the drench of the showerhead. She bowed her head and accepted him, loving his power, memorizing his strength and the feel of his body. Bliss. The heat of his breath was recognizable despite the warmth in the shower stall and added to her experience as he wove a lustful memory.

  When the rhythm of his strokes altered in cadence, he changed his stance, forcing her almost upright, aligned with his thighs, to splay his hand across her mound, two fingers arrowing against her clit. She was so primed it took only one rough touch to set her off, lights splintering behind her eyes, breath sobbing forth to mingle with the condensation on the stone wall. Rafe groaned and pumped once more, deep enough to stand her on her toes, and once again pressed his lips against her scarred skin.

  It took some time for her heart to slow and she stood within Rafe’s embrace until his cock softened and he slipped from her, dragging against her swollen tissues.

  “You steady?” He gripped her waist as she found her footing.

  “I’m good.” Better than good. She should be thanking him or something. Maybe dreaming up an award.

  He rinsed, then turned off the water and opened the wide glass door of the shower. “I’ll grab your towel.”

  Rafe ensured she was covered up and drying off before he wrapped a towel around his waist. She studied the flex of muscle beneath his bronze skin, admiring his taut buttocks, staring her fill of his broad shoulders and long, strong legs. Okay, she looked at his cock too, before he covered up, but she was sated—for now. If she belonged to Rafe and Connor, then they belonged to her, every delicious part of them. Once this was all over and done with, she was going to partake on a very regular basis.

  “Maddy?”

  “Hmmm?” She smiled dreamily, more relaxed than she’d been since…Connor had made her come.

  “I’m going to get some sleep. I told you, Connor’s waiting breakfast. There’s someone he wants you to meet.”

  About that…she wasn’t so relaxed anymore, but then squared her shoulders. It wasn’t a big deal to make the acquaintance of new people. It’d be different than the ones Abbott kept company with, for sure. And she wouldn’t disappoint Connor by hiding out in the playroom. “Okay.”

  With a chuck under her chin, he strode into the bedroom and she watched him go. It felt a little abrupt after what they’d just done, and she felt her bottom lip pout. Crap. Hadn’t she just had that little conversation in her head about his secrets and such? She needed to grow the fuck up.

  Turning to the mirror, she reached once again for her comb, when Rafe loomed behind her. “Forgot this.”

  This was a soul-stealing kiss that curled her toes before he patted her butt and sauntered away, now nude and freaking tantalizing.

  When she emerged, her hair dry and tamed, a touch of makeup making the best of her features, Rafe was sprawled, facedown, on what she intuited was his side of the bed. He encroached a little on t
he middle, a spot she’d claimed, and she itched to kneel beside him and run her fingers down the length of his spine, caress that great ass. His wet towel had been tossed carelessly to the floor and she snagged it, frowning as she took it back to the bathroom and hung it up. Rafe wasn’t perfect either and it made her smile as her belly warmed. Without warning, her scar burned with the flicker of nerve endings that didn’t accept they’d been severed, and she rubbed at it furiously. Ryker had no place here. Fearing she’d wake Rafe, she hurried to her case as quietly as possible. She pulled out a pair of jeans and one of her worn T-shirts, then found a pair of not-so-sexy panties and a sensible white bra. Mourning the loss of her fet wear, she donned her outfit, and with another glance at Rafe, tiptoed to the door. At the last minute, she reversed her course and knelt beside the bed. Pressing a kiss on Rafe’s temple, she drifted the sheet over his prone form, then hurried to find Connor.

  ****

  Rafe took a deep breath and burrowed deeper into the pillow. He’d listened as Maddy pattered around the bedroom, felt the weight of her gaze on his body, and damned if his cock hadn’t expressed an interest. After the shower sex, where he’d thought his heart might pound its way out of his chest, both in reaction to the amazing orgasm and the protectiveness those damned scars on Maddy elicited, there should have been no way he would want more. At least until he had some shut-eye.

  The whisper of her clothes as she drew them on was heightened as he recalled what they covered, a high, round ass, curved belly and ample, sweet tits topped with wide, suckable nips. Pink was definitely his new favorite color. And speaking of pink…Maddy’s full thighs sheltered the sweetest pussy. Rafe groaned. He needed some rest. The memory of that gentle kiss and the way she covered him eased his carnal need and soothed his heart. They were never letting her go.

  ****

  “Sir?”

  Abbott set down his fourth—or was it his fifth—cup of coffee. There was some kind of glitch with the books, and Wilkes had presumably come to explain it. Abbott was in the mood to kick some ass and he didn’t much care whose ass met the toe of his boot. Ryker was slouched on the chair in the corner, idly examining his nails, but Abbott wasn’t fooled. The other man never relaxed, just assumed a posture to cover his vigilance, the mentality of a predator, and as another animal on the feeding chain—in a higher spot than his personal killer held—Abbott never forgot it. Ryker didn’t have the skills necessary to run the business, but he might forget that truth and take any advantage.

  “What do you have, Wilkes?”

  “The money that was diverted? I found a signature. It’s Margaret’s.”

  Abbott experienced a strange sensation in his gut. Maybe a combination of satisfaction, rage, and shock. He never thought Margaret would steal from him, or be blatant about it, and it nearly made him think before his anger washed away his common sense. Some part of him felt Ryker uncoil from his seat and take a stance beside him.

  “You certain?” Wilkes wilted before his glare, but nodded.

  “It’s her signature. I recognize it. Unless somebody’s stolen it or is making her do it.”

  Abbott considered Wilkes’s suggestion, gaining control of himself again. He had plans for Margaret, big plans. Like one of those barons of old in the history books, he’d intended to marry her off to the Russian’s kid and forge a partnership. That memory of hers made a perfect dowry, not that he planned to tell the Russian that, thinking to use Margaret to gather information about Alexi’s business over time. No point in letting his annoyance with her get in the way of his future intentions. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t get the money back if they found Margaret alive, merely under duress.

  “So somebody could be stealing my money.”

  “If they could…persuade her to give them the codes.”

  Ryker grunted. “More likely she handed them over. Found herself some protection and is paying whomever.”

  Now that was an interesting take. Abbott didn’t think so, because he knew Margaret. He knew how soft she was and believed she’d never put anyone between her and Ryker again. “I think she’s either being forced by someone who stumbled on her and figured out there was a cash cow, or she’s using my money to run further. Either way, can you trace it?”

  Wilkes flinched. “I need a little time.”

  “How long?”

  “I can’t be sure, maybe a few hours.”

  “Then get it done.” Abbott turned to Ryker, dismissing Wilkes. The man scuttled away, his sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floors.

  “You ready to move on this?”

  “As soon as tech boy quits dragging his ass I’m on it. Two of my guys are waiting my call.”

  “You think Wilkes is stalling?”

  Ryker shrugged. “He likes the girl. Might be stalling.”

  And you’ve got it hard for her. Abbott knew what Ryker did with women, mostly hired prostitutes, but sometimes women whose other halves needed a tuning in. It might not hurt for Ryker to teach Margaret a lesson, one he’d supervise, because Alexi’s boy was said to expect his women to be meek. Abbott liked to watch. He’d decide when they caught up to her.

  “Go stand over Wilkes. Tell him I’m waiting. I was going to tag along with you when you go to retrieve her, but I’ve changed my mind.” He had a boss to placate and needed to divert any hint of accusation that he had anything to do with the theft of those funds, but Ryker didn’t need to know that. “You bring her to me. No permanent damage, do you understand? You can convey my disappointment, clearly, and I might enlist your support when Margaret is back home. Teach her the error of her ways. But I don’t want damaged goods. And Ryker? If she’s actually got somebody around, you take care of them, but in no way do you bring heat down on me again. Clear?”

  Ryker’s thin lips twisted into what might have been a smile, and something flared in his pale, dead eyes. The man would have been handsome if he exuded any kind of warmth, but it was like looking into the face of the walking dead. Good thing Abbott had a use for this particular zombie and horror movies didn’t bother him.

  “I’ll bring her back, appropriately apologetic. And I’ll be happy to help her with her penance.”

  Abbott had no idea Ryker had such a vocabulary, although the way he delivered his comment was stilted. He tasted the man’s arousal. It permeated the room with a strange miasma, and for a moment he was actually tempted. But he preferred younger meat, those handsome young men entering the world of entertainment for the first time. It was no accident Abbott owned a modeling agency. The women were the window dressing.

  Chapter Seven

  Connor smelled her before he saw her, that delicate scent of wildflowers weaving among the earthier aromas of bacon and eggs. He looked up from his task and saw Maddy hovering in the doorway, wearing clothes¸ unfortunately, but the way his former team mate stared at her, he was glad she was covered as fully as she was. He’d thought she’d turn up for breakfast, because ultimately she was a pleaser and that would supersede her personal desires. As long as she was pleasing him and Rafe there would be no problem, because they wouldn’t demand anything unreasonable. They’d monitor other interactions though, because with her fucked up background he didn’t want her taken advantage of.

  Holding out his hand, he stepped away from the stove, and she made her way to him, bare feet whisking on the ceramic tiles. “C’mere, honey.”

  With a certain awkwardness in her posture, Maddy leaned into him and he welcomed the fact she sought him out for support. Gagne quirked both brows in some weird imitation of a cartoon character Connor couldn’t name, and Benedett ate her up with his eyes. How could Maddy think she wasn’t a desirable woman? He performed the introductions, watching as his woman gravely offered her little hand and said she was pleased to meet them. It had been a surprise to see Gagne, but the guy had tagged along with Benny, saying he was at loose ends.

  “Likewise, Maddy.” Benedett relinquished her hand with obvious reluctance. “I hear you’re in a spot of troub
le.”

  Connor grimaced at the other man’s affected British accent, and tensed when Maddy relaxed in the face of Benny’s practiced charm. He was immediately appeased when she leaned in further and said, “Connor and Rafe promised to take care of it. I understand you’re backup.”

  Gagne nodded, giving Maddy that eyebrow wag again. “We try.”

  Ah, the false modesty. Connor sent the other man a warning glance. He wanted Maddy to feel absolutely and totally safe, and Gagne should use his gift of the gab to talk things up instead of worrying her.

  “Breakfast is pretty near ready. Eggs again.”

  “Can I have coffee? A slice of toast?”

  Benedett nearly knocked Gagne over in his haste to throw some bread into the toaster. Gagne settled for pushing the butter closer and moving the preserves within reach. Maddy cocked her head before thanking them and taking the stool nearest Connor. She sent a quick look his way, a trace of confusion clouding her eyes. He wondered how the previous men in her life had treated her. Probably like the chattel she’d described. The toast popped, and between them the other men put the bread on Maddy’s plate and hovered while she buttered them and added some marmalade. Connor fixed her coffee and passed over the mug, then engaged the guys in conversation while she ate.

  “Lawrence will be here in a while. And then we’ll set up shifts.”

  Benedett moved to load his plate with eggs, and Gagne followed suit, adding more bread to the toaster. “I had a look at your perimeter. It’s effective except for the pedestrian gate. I’ll head out after I eat and arrange a surprise if you like.”