I play with one of her nipples and refuse to look at her.
“Jesus—are you pouting?” She runs her finger across my bottom lip.
“Maybe a little.” My heart clenches and throbs. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Well, if you can’t even discuss this with me like an adult, then there’s your answer.” Her fingers drift through my chest hairs.
I play with her other nipple now and fixate on it. “He shouldn’t have told you that shit.”
“Westin can’t keep anything to himself—you know that. So, if you’re going to tell him something as private as that, then you should expect it’ll get back to me.” She blows across my chest hairs, making them prickle and tingle.
I move up to kneeling over her and still keep my eyes on her tits, since she’s probably frowning or glaring at me. “Please? I really want this—be a good little woman and give it to me.”
“No, Nick—Jesus.” Her hands smack on my abs. “You know this would amp up my neuroses and anxiety level so bad, I’d probably stop functioning.”
“I’d help with everything the—”
“I don’t care if you hire nannies and wet-nurses. Do you know how much babies vomit and poop and pee? It’s a germ-fest disaster of epic proportions. I can’t have children. I’d scrub them with iodine solution until there was nothing left of them but bones, and I’d probably bleach those, too.” She smacks her palms once more on my heated skin. “And will you please look me in the eye?”
My bottom lip juts out even further and here it comes.
“Oh fuck . . .” she whispers.
“Yes . . . That’s what we do—a lot—and we should make a kid.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “I love you—and this is what people do when they’re crazy in love—they make new people out of that love because their heart’s too big to contain in one body.”
Her eyes soften. “I can’t . . .”
“Or won’t?”
“Won’t. Even if I could get over all my issues, which I probably can’t, our life isn’t conducive to having a family. We’re on the run. We’re not stable, and we . . .” She bucks her hips up into my ass. “I don’t want to be stuck with kids right now. I love that you can throw me down at a moment’s notice and fuck my brains out. It’s shit like that—makes me feel alive and gets me out of my fucked up head. I’m not ready to give that up.”
“Pregnancy is nine months,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes. “No.”
“Please? God, think about it at least. Just don’t say no.” I settle my body back down over hers and kiss her lips softly. “You’d be an amazing mom, and I’d be a kick-ass dad. We should be a family.”
She stares at me with a far off look and says, “We have time. We can revisit this later when people aren’t after us, trying to steal our ideas and kill us. We’re still looking into Rich Hillcourt. We need to keep an eye on him.”
No one’s succeeded at any of those things yet.
“Paranoid,” I whisper, and she smacks my chest. I laugh for a second, and it feels better, but I’m still breaking inside over the idea she doesn’t want to make babies with me. I love kids.
“Think of the dirty diapers and the smell . . .”
“Think of the amazing sex we’ll keep having and how it’ll result in something beautiful and perfect like you.” I roll her on top of me. She shakes her head and smirks at me like she thinks I’m adorable. “Well, at least ride me to make me feel better, woman. It’s the least you can do.”
“The least I can do is get up and go sanitize. I already feel dirty with all this baby-diaper talk.”
I reach up and fondle her tits.
Nice view, mama. I want them leaking with tittie juice . . .
I lick my lips and let her get me hard again, take me inside, then let me come once more. Need to get her off those damned pills.
* * *
“Hey, babe, I’m heading over to Vaporides,” I say, out of breath. Fuck, I love that name. Can’t get enough of saying it.
“Stop name dropping.” Dena looks up at me from scrubbing the kitchen sink. “I’ll come, too. I’ve got some stuff to take care of there.”
“Westin’s waiting. I’ll just meet you there,” I say, anxious to go.
“Just wait. Give me a minute.” She huffs through her nostrils as she scrubs that fucker like it’s coated with the black plague.
“Okay, fine, but I’m warning you now, I’m about to head in there and show them who’s boss.” I smirk.
“Would I expect anything else from you? And besides”—she blows some loose hair out of her eyes—“you are the boss. They already know that, and our employees will treat you with respect.”
“They’ve never actually met me though. They’ve only spoken to me on the phone and through emails.” I tap my toe.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she says through her teeth, then she finally puts down the goddamn scrub brush, puts her cleaning supplies away and washes her arms like she’s going to perform open heart surgery next.
“Woman, you’re clean. Let’s go.” I point at the door.
Westin comes barging in. “Come on—women are circling your Veyron like vultures. They see me inside, and they need dick. I’m not about to give in to them.” He chuckles. “My new girlfriend, blondie, won’t let me do her if I give in like that.”
I chuckle. “At least she’s sticking around in your igloo with you. What temperature do you keep it at night? Forty-five? If you want her to roam around naked, you can’t go below seventy-eight—trust me. Dena won’t—ow!” Something is chucked at my head.
When it bounces off the floor, I look down and find one of my shoes I’d failed to put away.
I turn to her. “We’re not having this discussion with Mr. Blabber mouth here. He’ll post it on the web.” She pretends to glare while she’s giving me a close-lipped smile.
She puts her shoes on, brushes her teeth, because she always does that before she goes anywhere, and Westin follows us out.
When we step inside the company door fifteen minutes later, my chip activates inside me. I get into any door I choose without having to wear a badge and swipe it through the security scanners like the rest of our grunt employees.
And everywhere I turn, someone’s smiling, greeting me as “Hi, Mr. Vapor.”
I eye my woman. “Mr. Vapor? Who told them to call me that?”
She giggles, covering her mouth as she does, then she tosses her arms around me and kisses me with a freedom I’ve never seen from her in public before. “I did. I thought you’d like it—being the big man and all. They’re showing respect—see? I do listen.”
“Shit, woman, I’ll fuck you right now and show them exactly who has the biggest balls here—so stop tempting me with your smart-ass mouth and hot body.” I kiss her, and hold her tight. “This place is like you—it turns me on.”
She whispers in my ear, “I thought you’d like it. This place always reminded me of that guy Vapor I talked to online. He was edgy, smart, fearless. It inspired me to give my creative engineers more freedoms.”
I kiss her with a hungry growl, grab her hand and we prowl around. Well, I’m prowling—she’s giving me the grand tour, and when I’m not staring at her ass, then I’m generally impressed with the place and the people she’s hired.
When we get to the final destination, I about lose it. I can barely breathe. “This is what I almost prevented you from doing by allowing my asshole dad to not pay you properly for the pet chipping device?”
I stare at the guns on the table, all of them unloaded of course, and all being tested for DNA sequencing.
She picks up a GLOCK at the end of the table. “Yeah—this is my biggest dream of all—to end domestic violence in some way or another. If my dad’s gun had been typed with his DNA, he wouldn’t have even been able to dislodge a bullet in my direction.” She smiles and her throat bobs as she swallows down all the thick emotions.
“Why the fuck don’t we try this on us? Wi
th your own personal gun you carry around in your backpack? Let’s do it now. Let me rig it up for you, and we’ll test it out.”
“I am not going to aim and shoot at you,” she squawks as she sets the gun down.
“Yes, you are. We’ll do something simple, like, shit, I don’t know, I’ll take off my shirt, we’ll hang it up like those practice papers you shoot with, and we’ll see if the gun will allow you to do it or not.”
She nods a tiny bit, but it’s enough that I launch myself at her, and kiss her so hard and so fiercely, that she melts right into me, and kisses me back with equal enthusiasm.
“You think this will work?” she asks when I finally stop shoving my tongue down her throat.
“I know it will.”
“Hey, you guys are so unprofessional,” Westin says, approaching us, rolling his eyes.
“Oh, it’s you.” I roll my eyes back, grinning all the while. “I thought you’d left already.”
“Nah, I wanted see what kind of shit you two have going on here. I’m sure it’s bad-ass.” Westin looks at the guns and damn near salivates “No way. This is you, Ides?”
He drags his fingers over the gun she was just handling moments ago. “Yeah,” she replies.
“I heard about your dad going psycho—was this the gun? It is, isn’t it?” He stares at it, unblinking with his mouth popped open.
“It’s my job to prevent something like this from happening to others if I can.” She steps closer to him. “And this gun, I was hoping would be the first one to fix it—so while it’s not a fancy firearm, and it’s old, it means something to me, because you’re right—it was the gun my dad fired at me. And it’s what made me realize sometimes money means more to people than blood relations, or even love.”
“I’m working on this now. I’ll get it working,” I say, picking it up.
I study the piece. It’s in good shape. Not that I’m an expert, but I’ve been around Dad’s weapons, and he made sure I knew how to handle one and could shoot well, since he had aspirations to be some kind of mafia king.
She smiles at me, hugs me once more, and then dismisses herself to see to some other company matters.
I’m left with Westin, and after tinkering for hours, only stopping to get something to eat, we’ve brainstormed and found an easier way to get this thing to do what she wanted. We’ve also changed some things a little. Not only will the gun fail to shoot at someone with the same DNA, but the owner can also put in the DNA of anyone they choose, so the gun will be blocked from harming that individual. We’ve given it a broader range.
Hopefully she won’t be pissed I’ve made these modifications, along with the way it’s thwarted.
She wanted to use the laser in the weapon to disrupt the weapon’s mechanics. We found something simpler.
Westin helps me configure it so my DNA enters the gun from a saliva sample, being touched to the chip at the base of the handle.
When I aim at my shoe I’ve taken off, and pull the trigger, the safety locking pin drops into place and jams up the gun completely, so they can’t even keep hitting the trigger. I like this idea better, so if the gun decides it doesn’t recognize the DNA of the other person, and loses its intuitive programming, they can’t get around it and shoot the damned thing.
We’ve also made sure it’s set so that if it recognizes some of the person’s DNA, but it’s less than a certain percentage, it will still fire. So, if a perpetrator manages to stab the person and get the victim’s blood on them, the gun will still be able to shoot the attacker.
“Hey, Mr. Vapor, is there anything I can get you before I go?” one of my employees asks me.
I look up at him. “Can you tell me what other ideas have been tried on these weapons real quick before you go? That’s all I need right now—information.”
He grins and settles his hand on the table. “We were originally working with the internal trigger lock, but it was unreliable. I have to say though, I didn’t think the laser sighting was the way to go. Not all weapons have one of those.”
I smile at him. “How long have you worked on this particular project?”
“For the last six months non-stop, sir.” He gives me a hopeful look like he’d love to join Westin and me.
“Are you staying or going? We could use your help.” I point at the chair on the other side of me.
“Staying,” he says, his eyes impassive, but his smile bright.
“She’s gonna kill us for messin’ with her shit,” Westin tells me.
“She’s gonna let me fucking do this, because I’ll let some asshole tear me to shreds if I don’t protect my woman and make her feel like she accomplished something this helpful.” I pass the gun to Westin. “Aim it at my shoe. See what happens.”
Since his DNA isn’t coded into the gun, I wonder if it’ll work.
But when he aims it, the pin dislodges right away, and he can’t fire it.
“Fuck. It’s already working,” the dude across from me says.
“Fucking A it is,” I say, nodding.
I take the gun back, kick Westin’s boot. “Take your damn boat off your foot. I’m gonna see if it works if I shoot at your shit.”
“No. I like these shoes,” Westin says, backing away.
“Here—you can use mine,” our new helper says.
“What’s your name?”
“My real name? Or the name Ides lets me use around here.” He casts his eyes around. Is he looking for her? Is he interested?
“She’s into letting all sorts of shit fly around here, and I’m cool with that,” I start, “but you get this shit straight—she’s mine.”
His eyes go wide. “No, I didn’t mean . . .”
Westin bursts into a howling laugh. “Always jealous!”
“I’m sorry, I . . .” The guy across from me shakes his head, and looks mortified that I thought he was hot for Ides.
“Name?”
“Brigand,” he says. “But my real name is—”
“That is your real name as far as I’m concerned.” I smack Westin’s arm. “This here is Fingers. And you can drop the Mr. for me. Just call me Vapor, and we’re all good.”
I nod, and he does the same in return.
“All right, Brigand. Your shoe’s about to get drilled. You ready?”
He sets the shoe out so I can hit it and covers his ears.
Pap!
Pap! Pap!
The gun works fine for me.
Westin shoves me from behind. “You owe this guy a new shoe, fucker. Or else you need to give him a raise.”
“Definitely getting a raise, if you stay here a few more hours, and help me do the same to Ide’s personal hand gun. I want that fucking thing ready to go so when we get home, she knows she won’t ever have to worry I’d turn on her and use her own gun against her.” I touch the rifle next to me. “Ready to pull what might be an all-nighter?” I glance at Brigand.
He smiles wider, his teeth a white crescent sliver.
“Sounds like he’s in.” Westin chuckles.
“What about you? Stayin’?”
“It’s too hot in here. I need a fan or something. What is this, a sweatshop?” Westin laughs and slaps the table.
“Seriously? If you touch this damn pistol with your tongue on the metal parts, I’m betting to God, your fucking tongue will be glued to that thing. It’s arctic in here. I couldn’t get a hard-on if I wanted to.” And just as I say that, Ides approaches us, hands me her backpack with her weapon inside and gives me a heated look.
“How’s it going?” She gazes over the table, then her eyes land on Brigand. “These two assholes treating you okay?”
He nods, swallows and looks intimidated as hell by her.
“You tell me if they start acting like a bunch of idiots.” She motions for him to give her his phone he had set on the table at some point. He gives it to her, and at my astonishment, she plugs in her phone number. “You call me the minute they act up, and I’ll come back here and kick both the
ir asses. And I won’t do it by turning their shoes into Swiss cheese.” She hands him back his phone, and then she digs out a wad of cash from her pocket and gives him some. “Buy yourself a new pair.”
“B-but I-I don’t—”
“Brigand . . .” Her right brow slants up, and she looks devilish and sexy as fuck. “I insist. When I make a mess, I fix it. When the man I love tears your shoes to shreds because he’s a jealous ass, I pay for you to get a new pair, because I can.” She sticks out her tongue at me. “Just promise me you’ll buy yourself a new pair.”
“Can I upgrade?” Brigand’s voice cracks.
“No,” I say, while she simultaneously says, “Yes.”
“Well, damn. I’m working here from now on. Fuck the body shop.” Westin’s barking laugh rings in the air again.
“You’re hired if you can figure out how get my woman here to give me her saliva right now so I can type her handgun,” I say.
She gives me a look that says, “Are you challenging me?” Then she takes my palm in hers, and spits in my hand. “Good enough? Or do you need more? Just say the word. Only I won’t stick around. Fucking too many germs in spit.” She fights off a slight shiver.
“Fuck. You better turn the AC down in here,” I warn. “You’re making me excited, gorgeous.”
Brigand looks away. Are we embarrassing him?
“Doesn’t take much, Mr. Vapor. Just keep it tucked in your pants. I haven’t approved nudity on the work floor yet.” She grins and then saunters away.
And I swear, I’m harder than the steel on these guns, sitting next to me, no matter how many ice crystals are about to form on my eyelashes with how freezing it is in here.
“We got this. We’ll have her gun ready to go in no time.” Westin claps my back, and some of her spit drips off the side of my hand.
I glower at him, and then tell him to get back to work, in my most brutal boss tone I possess.
Mostly he laughs and calls me a pussy, but over the next three hours, we get her gun typed.
I place my phone on the stand and step back.
Slick as Ides Page 26