Dirty War

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by N. E. Henderson


  Fear is a motherfucker.

  18

  At first, I was surprised that someone who drives a Bugatti on a daily basis would be staying in a regular room rather than one of the suites higher up—or even the penthouse. Then I thought, Drago has never come off as over-the-top or someone who cares about materialistic things. He has a nice house and an expensive car, but I haven’t seen anything else that gives away he comes from money.

  I like that about him. Even though I come from money, I don’t rely on my father’s wealth, or my brother’s. I pride myself on being independent; a woman that can take care of herself. I never wanted to be someone that, years down the road, couldn’t land on her own feet no matter the circumstance.

  And then my mind wandered over into dangerous territory. Drago had a room at a hotel and Rebecca De Luca was with him tonight. Anger coats my skin and I hate the feeling that’s etched inside of me. Was he going to fuck her in here?

  If he was, do I really want to know about it?

  Unlacing his left boot, I pull it off, placing it next to the right at the end of the bed.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  I tip my head up, looking at him as he stares down at me. His hands are braced on either side of him, gripping the comforter he’s sitting on, and currently the only thing keeping him in an upright position. He’s drunk; really drunk. Like Eric, I can smell the bourbon on him from my kneeled position in front of him.

  “Just sleep it off, D.”

  I stand, taking a step away from him, looking around the room. It’s large enough with a full-length couch next to the bed and an oversized reading chair close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The curtains are drawn open, and although it’s pitch black in the sky, the city still bustles below.

  I can’t leave him here alone; I know that. Not knowing Drago’s tolerance for alcohol or even how much he’s had, I need to stay to make sure he’ll be okay. I can leave before he wakes up in the morning. Maybe he won’t even remember I was here. That thought wrecks me. I don’t want to be so forgettable to him, but what if I am?

  “I haven’t had you in so long.” His words cut through my negative thoughts, pulling my eyes to him again. “I can remember every detail in my head.” He raises his hands in front of him, flipping his palms over, looking at them as if they’ve offended him. “Yet, the feel of running my hands all over your body is just out of reach like some cruel joke.” He clenches his hands, dropping them back to his sides, resting them at the edge of the mattress.

  His eyes climb, seeking mine. When our gazes lock, he stands.

  “I need to be inside you, or I’m going to continue to die and wither away until there is nothing left of me. I need to feel you again, baby.” I gasp, not expecting that admission. D stalks forward, but I step backward. With every step he makes, I retreat until my back meets the wall. “Please, Bri,” he begs.

  Who knew this large beast in front of me was capable of begging for anything. His sheer need for me is my undoing. I was going to make sure he got into a bed and I was going to stay to make sure he didn’t throw up and choke on his vomit, but not once did I think I’d be giving myself so willingly to him again.

  After all, he is the one that ended us. He didn’t want me, so why does his need for me break down every wall I’ve put up?

  “Don’t be gentle,” is my only request, because I need him as much as he needs me—maybe more. And although I love gentle Drago, I crave the beast that I know lurks under the surface of his skin, or maybe it’s the dragon inked on him that’s a part of who he is. Either way, I want it and I need it.

  “Get out of those fucking pants before I tear them off your body.” Heat scorches my skin, heating me from the inside out. I can literally feel it climbing up my neck. No one’s words have ever affected me the way his do; no one else’s ever will. I know that as matter of fact as I know my own name.

  My dress pants are gone as quickly as I can un-loop the buttons, shucking them down my legs and kicking them off to the side.

  He’s on me within the next second, pressing my head against the wall as his lips devour mine. Nothing about his kiss is gentle; it’s hard, demanding, and in full control. My head starts to spin as his scent mixed with the whiskey infiltrates my senses.

  I vaguely hear his belt coming undone and the zipper of his slacks being pulled down. The next thing I know I’m hoisted up the wall, and on instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, but then so am I. He must have pushed his boxer briefs down with his pants, because his thick erection twitches through the material of my panties, causing electrical currents to ripple through my pussy.

  I’m wet, I know I am; I have been since the second his tongue swept inside my mouth, dancing with mine. Every single time his teeth bite down on my bottom lip I get a little dizzy. It’s one of my favorite things he does to me.

  Drago’s hand grips the back of my thigh on the side of my body that wasn’t shot with such strength I’m certain it’ll leave a bruise that will match the blue hue around my wound. But I couldn’t care less. I want this kind of pain. It’s more pleasurable than not.

  I can taste the whiskey on his tongue. It tastes of burnt sweetness and maybe something citrus. As drunk as he seemed only minutes ago, you wouldn’t know it with the steadiness of how he holds me exactly where he wants me; where I want to be.

  Dropping me an inch, he presses my upper back farther into the wall. And I gasp, taking his breath down my throat when his dick starts running up and down the lips of my pussy.

  “I want my panties off,” I demand. “I need to feel you skin-to-skin, D.”

  The satin material is keeping his cock from touching my clit. The desire, the need to have his dick running through my pussy lips instead of on the surface is strong.

  He reaches underneath me, pulling my thong over my ass cheek, giving me exactly what I want. I swallow, closing my eyes when I feel his cock touch my skin for the first time in far too long. Drago keeps ahold of my panties so they stay out of the way as he slides through my folds, rubbing my clit just right.

  Jesus, this feels good.

  Gripping his shoulders, I dig in with my fingers and press down more so that his dick is a hard rod between me.

  “Oh, yes,” I moan. It feels so right that emotions take hold, pressing against my chest and threatening to explode.

  “I knew the second I laid eyes on you when you stepped out of your car that you’d bring me to my knees. I knew, Bri, and I still couldn’t leave you alone.” His voice is as steady as his hold on me.

  I force my eyes open, looking up to his dark stare. He doesn’t seem to blink as he watches me.

  “I didn’t want you to leave me alone.” And I didn’t. From the beginning I wanted him. I tried hard to do my job and keep it strictly professional. I failed, but I don’t regret it for a second. He’s too right for me. We fit together better than puzzle pieces.

  “Yeah, but I should have. I knew the whole time I should have left you as just another local cop that I could despise.”

  “Do you despise me?” God, I hope not. I couldn’t take it if he did.

  “No,” he admits and looking at those beautiful, vulnerable eyes, I know he’s telling me the truth. “I never once despised you. I wanted to. I tried to, and it pissed me off that I couldn’t.”

  His cock enters me swiftly, hitting the back of my cervix with a slam. I cry out, the pleasure so unexpected but welcomed all at the same time. Drago’s hips piston, connecting to mine over and over. I meet every thrust, chasing my release. This isn’t going to last long. I know he’s trying. I see the strain in his eyes as he attempts to hold back, waiting for me.

  With every exit and entry inside me, our eyes never falter, always staying locked on each other’s. And in his, I see what I’ve been looking for—love. It overwhelms me to the point tears leak from the outer corners of both of my eyes. He loves me. I know he does, and that knowledge fuses something inside me tog
ether. I drop my forehead, resting it in the crook of his neck as a whimper escapes my lips.

  On his next thrust, hot semen coats my insides, setting off my own orgasm that seems to last longer than any I’ve ever had before. My body hums with satisfaction as the pulsing inside me continues.

  God, I needed that so bad. I hadn’t realized how much until right now.

  Drago sets me down gently on my feet. My shaking legs prevent me from releasing him.

  “That was . . .” I trail off, my words failing me. I can’t even verbalize what that was except sheer amazing. I’m not even embarrassed I teared up. It was honest emotions and whether he appreciates it or not, I can respect myself more for not hiding them from him.

  “I’m not done with you, baby. Not by a long shot. This is just starting. I’m going to fuck you until I’m sober, and then I’m going to fuck you until I can’t move. I’m going to drown that sweet, beautiful pussy in my cum tonight.”

  His lips come down on mine, devouring me with a kiss and stealing the breath from my throat. He sucks, pulling on my tongue. He nips my bottom lip hard enough that pain and pleasure storms through my body.

  Ripping off me, he steps back, pulling me off the wall.

  “Ditch the shirt and everything else. I want you bent over that chair.” My eyes follow his, seeing the oversized reading chair in the corner of the room next to the window. Pushing me toward it, he smacks my ass, making me gasp. “Now, Detective.”

  Yes. That’s exactly what I want too.

  I breathe, steadying myself. Smiling, I raise up onto my tiptoes, smacking my lips with his again. I can’t get enough of him and I don’t ever want to. I know I’ll want him forever. There’s nothing that’ll change that.

  “Yes, sir,” I say as my heels land back on the floor. Yes, sir indeed.

  He loves me, and I can get through anything that’s thrown at me with that feeling settled deep inside me.

  19

  My body is wrecked in the best possible way. I know that before I even open my eyes. The only reason I’m not hesitant, fearing last night was a concoction my mind put together is because our bodies are still tangled around each other’s. His strong arms cling to me, wrapped around my back. My front is fused to his muscled chest and his cock is poking me in the stomach.

  It’s what woke me up. After the marathon of orgasms we both had: bent over the chair, pressed into the cold glass window, face down on the couch, in the shower, and lastly, he made love to me right here in the bed before we both passed out from sated exhaustion.

  He sobered a lot quicker than I expected, but I’m pretty certain the soberer he got, the drunker I became.

  I ache all over, especially on the outside of my thigh where I’m still healing. He worked me over at least three times as much as he did the first night we slept together. I’m sore, but I’m a little more settled than I have been since I woke up in the hospital a couple of weeks ago. I know all the anxiety won’t leave until we have Gabriel back. As much as I feel guilty for doing it, right now I have to shove the thought of him or where he is farther back into my mind or my emotions will surface, which I don’t need right now. I just want to enjoy this moment a little longer.

  Ah shit!

  It’s only now that I realize we never once used a condom last night. I doubt he did that on purpose this time. Both of us were too caught up in each other to be responsible. When you go without something you crave every second of every day, logical thinking leaves you once you finally have it back.

  For whatever reason, as I lay here thinking about it, I’m not feeling any sort of panic or even remorse. I don’t get a chance to analyze my feelings. Drago stirs, pushing his hard-on into me more as his arms tighten their hold on me. His face presses against the top of my head and I hear the pull of air through his nose as he breathes me in. Shudders ripple through his body as he exhales, coating the top of my head with hot air.

  Without a word, he rolls away from me and gets out of bed, scooping his clothes off the floor as he walks to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Missing his touch and suddenly cold, I kick the covers to the bottom of the bed, then scoot out. After I have my bra and panties on, I pull up my pants and search for my shirt.

  Drago comes out of the bathroom before I find my top, stopping me in my tracks. Our gazes lock; my seemingly content eyes land on his wrecked brown ones. It’s our silent stare that I know. I know he’s already pulled away from me. The love I felt last night is gone—vanished.

  “Oh, hell no!” I shake my head, not believing this right now.

  “Bri,” he calls out.

  “Fuck you, D!” I shout, not holding back.

  “Bri, please hear me out. I—”

  “No!” I yell, unable to contain my anger and hurt. “Just no. You aren’t doing this to me again, so I’m doing it to you first.” Like hell he’ll kick me out, breaking my heart all over again. I’m not going through that again. I can’t.

  “Bri.” My name sounds like painful guilt on his tongue. Too fucking bad. I don’t want his guilt. I wanted him, but he apparently doesn’t want me.

  “Shut up! Fuck you, Acerbi. Get out. Leave,” I demand. This may technically be his room, but I don’t care. I’m not allowing him to be the one doing the kicking out this time around.

  After a few seconds of a stare down, he turns, walking away from me instead of to me. And it hurts. It hurts so much I think my chest is going to cave in on itself.

  How could he do this?

  I thought for sure I’d gotten through to him last night. I thought he felt the same. He told me over and over how much he wanted and needed me.

  I shake my head, not believing how stupid I really am. Sex. It was just the raw fucking he needed—not me. He fed me all those lies to get me back into bed one last time. Multiple last fucks, I guess.

  The door to the hotel room closes with so much ease it pisses me off even more.

  How could he?

  How does he not feel what I feel? This can’t be one-sided. It just can’t be. It’s too strong.

  Spotting my shirt, I yank it off the couch and finish getting dressed. I need out of this room before I choke to death on the smell of us that remains.

  My cell phone rings and I almost don’t answer it. The only reason I do is because there is always the smallest chance it could be about Gabriel. Grabbing it off the nightstand, I flip the screen to face me, seeing a California number I don’t recognize and don’t have programmed into my contacts.

  “Hello,” I greet.

  “How much is the boy’s life worth to you?”

  The voice that’s continuously replayed since the day he shot me registers, heating my skin like someone has lit me on fire. Hatred. Disgust. Anger. Every emotion I hold for Sebastian Diaz surfaces at the sound of his thick Spanish accent.

  “Anything,” I answer without hesitation. He’s a monster, even he’d admit that. He’s not going to return Gabriel for some minuscule price. He called me, not Drago, or if he did call him first, D might have told him to fuck off. Why can’t he believe me? Gabe is his son. That I’m certain of. I should have brought it back up again last night, but I was too consumed by him to even think to do so.

  Diaz snickers into the phone, bringing my thoughts back to the present. Dread washes over me, making me regret my haste words. What if he wants something I can’t give him? Money I don’t have, although, I’m not above asking my dad in this case. If Sebastian was after cash, he could have just called my father himself. He may be a criminal, but he isn’t stupid. He would know by now who my father is and probably who my brother and sister-in-law are. Oh shit, why didn’t I think of them before? He could so easily hurt someone I love. No matter how much Jackson thinks he knows where his family is at all times, you can’t always protect them from people dead set on harming them.

  “Perhaps,” he starts, drawing out his words for show. “I wasn’t meant to have killed you. After all, you really do have a sweet fucking ass.”


  Me.

  He wants me. Bile rushes up my esophagus, but I take a deep breath, pushing it back down. Not now. I have to hold my shit together and be the strong independent woman I profess to be.

  “Nothing to say, cop?” I’m silent, but not because I’m not going to agree to whatever it is he wants. That was decided the minute he implied the offer.

  Me for Gabriel.

  Is it a hefty price to pay? Sure. But is that going to make me cower? Hell no. His safety is worth my life, or my body in this case—maybe both. I’m not stupid enough to think Diaz will keep me around forever. He’ll grow tired of me and then my life will be dispensable.

  Once Gabriel is back safe, D will see and eventually accept him as his son. Deep down, Drago is a good man. And family, his father aside, means the world to him. I’ve seen him with his brother and sister, his niece, Mona, hell even his dogs. Drago has a big heart and a lot of love to give. And love is exactly what Gabriel needs.

  “You know I shouldn’t want you, you being a pig and all. You people fucking disgust me.”

  “We disgust you?” I cough.

  “Ironic isn’t it.” He sighs. “So, about that generous offer I’ve put on the table . . .”

  “When and where?”

  “Not so fast my soon-to-be little pet.” My nose wrinkles at the words that penetrate my ear. “Don’t go telling any of your pig buddies, including that DEA fucker you’ve been tagging along with, or Drago for that matter. That is unless you want me to slit Acerbi’s little bastard kid’s throat.”

  I gasp, pulling in air and giving myself away. The images played out so vividly in my mind, I couldn’t control my mouth. I want to slap myself for allowing him to hear just how much I’m affected by the thought of harm coming to Gabe.

  “So, then it’s settled. I tell you where to be and when, you come alone, right, my soon to be personal fucking property?”

 

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