by Flite, Nora
Shaking my head, I faced them both and bent to pull up my jeans. “I can't believe you two!”
Jacob was black ice. He didn't even need to touch me, I froze just because he was there. The intensity in his crystal eyes made me forget to breathe.
Grabbing my pants, he actually zipped them up. I hadn't expected that. I also didn't expect him to take my hands, to graze the backs of them with his thumbs while he smiled. “Relax, Marina. We'll make it up to you.”
Wrinkling my nose, I pulled away. “How do you figure?”
Jacob swayed closer. It was subtle, but I was too aware of him to not notice every inch of breathing room I lost. His aura was consuming me. He did it so easily, that magnetic pull that promised so much.
He murmured, “After we go take care of the bar, I promise to spend as much time as you want on that sweet body of yours. Far more than fifteen minutes.”
He spoke right into my core. I almost forgot what he'd just denied me, but the ache in my lower belly was a cruel reminder.
I scooped up my shirt. Kite gave me an overtly sad expression as I hid away my chest, not caring I didn't have a bra any longer. “You assume I'll want anything to do with you—either of you—after this,” I said.
Like rich cream, Jacob poured into every crack of my brain, stealing a kiss that I hadn't predicted. When he started to speak—looked me in the eye with that wicked promise—I listened to what he was offering. “Come with us to the bar. You won't regret it.”
He traced my jaw, the shell of my ear, and kissed me once more outside my temple.
Jacob knew how to make me dance like a puppet on strings.
“Fine,” I said, quieter than I wanted to. “But if you ever stop me like that again?” I pointed a finger, and his genuine surprise was invigorating. “I'll smack you right in your damn smile.”
Jacob bowed his head. “I'll make a note of that. Get changed, we need to go.”
We left the apartment while Kite was still stumbling into a pair of jeans and a shirt.
- Chapter 28 -
Jacob
It hadn't been an emergency—not exactly.
Anabelle, my prime bartender, had phoned me with some grim news. “I'm sick,” she'd said, mumbling into the receiver. “Like, extremely sick. You don't want details, Mr. Fallow.”
I didn't. I also didn't want her infecting everyone, what a headline that would be in the papers. Corner Velvet Causes Plague. I'd asked her if she was contagious.
“No no,” Anabelle had laughed, hollow as a coconut. “But I'm a mess. If I feel better, I'll come in tonight, but I can't get the bar prepped. You and Kite will have to.”
It amused me how she treated me so formerly, but never bothered with Kite. It definitely bugged him, too, but then... I'd kept things business between me and her.
Kite had never cared about such rules.
Before Marine had swayed into our lives, Kite had been losing himself nightly in booze and women—including Annabelle.
Now, things had changed, more than I'd ever thought possible.
“It's fine,” I'd told Anabelle, finishing belting my pants on with one hand. She hadn't woken me up, I'd stirred at the first hint of gold on the horizon. “Kite and I will handle it. You stay in bed and get better. Bye for now.”
There was so much to do, but first, I had to call Kite and let him know. He wasn't much of a boss, but he was the co-owner of our bar.
And that was when I'd run into the first problem; Kite wasn't answering. I had a strong suspicion as to why.
A quick trip downstairs through the stairwell of our high-rise apartment, a few knocks on the door and another call, and I was positive. Placing an ear on the wood, I heard the stomach tingling, heart pumping noises that only Marina could make.
That woman, she turned my very bones into glass. One tap, and I'd shatter.
With the sun rising over her naked skin, I'd stepped inside and halted their fun.
I could have left them alone for a few hours, given them privacy.
Let Marina come as she desperately needed to.
But I hadn't.
Why not?
That thought plagued me now as I drove my car down the busy streets towards the Corner Velvet. Kite and Marina were following in his orange Mercedes, leaving me alone with my buzzing mind.
Seeing them both wrapped up together, how red her lips had been in their desperate 'o' shape... The memory made me shift in the seat, proving I could steer the car and steer my painful erection at the same time.
Marina was a cannonball crashing into my world—our world. She threatened everything Kite and I had spent our existence building. Hell, we'd been on the verge of retiring when she'd shown up and told us she knew we were hitmen.
From that moment, the plan was clear. We needed to get the letter she had that proved who we were, the one thing tying us to her.. the thing that could put us behind bars. After that?
Marina had to die.
No loose ends.
My knuckles had gone milky white on the steering wheel. Someone honked; I jerked forward on the road, baffled by my distraction.
Imagining what had to be done to this lovely, amazing girl that I wanted to grab and taste and hear scream for me, it turned me sour.
Marina could destroy us. One simple word or mistake, and she'd ruin everything.
Knowing that risk, I do stupid things like agree to give her a chance at proving she can be trusted.
That she can be allowed to live.
I tensed, recalling that day. Kite had demanded we give her the revenge she deserved. He'd argued we could risk leaving her alive. I'd agreed, but under one condition; she had to prove her trust.
I hadn't yet decided how that would happen. That was unlike me, too. I was quick with plans and details. Surely, I'd come up with something. Instead, I'd been dragging my feet, delaying the process.
It's because, if I make the decision, it becomes real. She has a chance to fail.
I wasn't ready for that. This limbo was... easier.
I should have been colder, but Marina was a new sun, warming the blackness in my heart.
Pushing out of the car after I parked it in the alley, I straightened my tie. Marina... how are you so firmly in my veins? She'd grown like a tumor, I feared ejecting her from our lives would rupture something irreplaceable.
And that was partly why, seeing her and Kite going at it, I'd snapped.
Deep down, I wanted to be involved in their morning fun. But while they might have had the time to finish, I didn't have the time to jump in.
So I'd stopped them. Was that jealousy?
No, I told myself, musing over the realization. It's greed.
I ached to watch Marina come, but I wanted to be part of it. I needed to see her thrill with lust, and not from the sidelines. Plus, I told myself, nudging through the backdoor of my bar, Forcing her to wait will make it that much more exciting for her. For all of us.
Scanning the room, I shook my head in surprise. Anabelle hadn't mentioned that she'd bailed last night before cleaning up. Had her illness hit her that hard, even then?
There were glasses and empty bottles all over the place, the dark wood of the booths and tables sticky in the pale lights. I wandered behind the bar, knew with one glance that nothing had been refilled or washed.
Kite's voice rang out a second after he kicked the door open. “Shit, it's a wreck in here!”
Peering over at them both, I did a scan of Marina that ate up the vision of her in a mere blink. She'd managed to clean up some, but she still wore curve-hugging jeans and a top so tight it enhanced the shape of her delicious breasts.
Her face, though, her energy; she had that casual, tousled, just rolled out of bed look that people struggled to create. Except, for her, it was reality.
She'd tied her long, thick hair up in a tail, some pieces loose and framing her toffee skin. I committed all of it to memory, blaming it on my hitman history.
Clearing my throat, I started to
peel back the cuffs of my expensive shirt. “Anabelle is very sick. So sick, it looks like she left in a whirl last night. We'll need to clean everything as fast as we can.”
Kite sighed, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other hooked casually in his jeans. “You couldn't have just told me that earlier? Fuck. Okay. That means she isn't coming in tonight?”
“I doubt she will.” Running water in the sink, I started piling glasses. “I'll make some calls. It's last minute, but maybe I can find a replacement bartender.”
Marina came my way, slipping around to join me. “Let me help,” she said, dipping her hands into the suds.
“You're sure?” I asked.
“I'm not going to stand around and watch you guys work,” she said, giving me a sly glance. “I don't know how to run this place and I definitely can't bartend, but I'm capable of washing some glasses.”
Marina could have easily gone for a walk, left us to take care of our own troubles.
But that wasn't her.
Nodding, I said, “Thank you.”
I was rewarded with a flush of pink along her neck. I loved it.
Kite tapped his foot, then started gathering up empty bottles. Between the three of us, the bar would look presentable within a few hours.
Bent over the sink with Marina, we scrubbed glasses while the less filthy ones ran through the automatic washer. Kite had vanished into the backroom, working harder than I'd seen him ever bother with. What had motivated him so suddenly?
It's her, I realized with a start. Marina. She's made him more... responsible. She'd asked me, once, if Kite had always been reckless. She'd said I was always taking care of him, and I had to admit, then and now... it was true.
I would always protect my best friend.
Water flicked onto my sleeve, staining it from blue to black. “Sorry,” Marina winced, though her lips were too curled to be sorry.
Narrowing my eyes, I showed her the edge of my teeth. “It's fine, just an accident.” Dipping my forearms into the warm suds, I casually splashed her back. The wetness soaked onto the front of her shirt, glinting off her enticing cleavage.
Jumping back, Marina gawked at me. Her arms were up, soap dripping onto the floor. Then, with a slow burn of wickedness, she flipped the glass in her hand and emptied the cup over my chest.
I saw it coming, didn't dodge. Standing there, I looked down at the soaked cloth. With patience, I lifted my gaze back to her. Though I was staring her down with building energy, the threat of revenge, Marina didn't sway.
If anything, she beamed and stood taller.
“You did that on purpose,” I observed.
“Oh, most definitely.”
My hands were free, then they were full of her wrists. I'd moved quick, trapping her tight. She twitched, a mixture of fear and something else—something far more alluring—dancing in her dark eyes.
It was a wonder she didn't drop the glass. I pried it free, then snatched her arm up once more.
Marina was pinned against the sink, water making parts of her shirt sheer. Those windows exposed the bits of her I'd seen naked. As if it were the first time, she got my cock beyond stiff with desire.
She wound me up so easily. I couldn't let her know.
The more time I spent with her, the more she cracked my calm mask. The more she cracked it, the more desperately I fought to rebuild the protection. Each time, it became weaker.
Breathing deeply, causing her breasts to rise, she looked up at me. “You're as fast as ever.”
Through her wrists, I felt the hammering of her pulse. “And you're as brave as ever.”
Her tongue ran over her plump bottom lip. It became glossy, I could see myself in it. “Nothing to be brave about,” she said. “You let me soak you. I assumed you wanted to play.”
My smile smoothed into a neutral line. Not only had she noticed, she'd called me out on it.
One step, and our bodies were touching. A droplet slid down the curve of her throat. I felt her swallow, saw her neck vibrate. Nothing was more addicting than making Marina react.
This was the danger, this was what I had to keep myself aware of.
She was infecting my lifeblood.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, darting her stare from mine, to my lips, then back again.
My nails inched up her forearms, grazed the sensitive pits of her inner-elbows. What was I doing? “I don't know yet,” I admitted, taking a slow breath in. My lungs flooded with her spicy scent, my skull throbbing. “Do you want me to stop?”
Her hands made fists, testing me; my muscles were bunched. I didn't budge.
The smile was gone from her angelic face. She smelled like sin, and I was ready to commit a new one. “Earlier today, you were keen on stopping me,” she said.
That got me smirking. “And you argued so hard. So, I take it you want me to keep going.” Bending low, I blew across the tiny hairs on her temple. Her shudder had my cock shoving against the front of my pants angrily.
She rocked into me, then tried to pull away. Had my excitement scared her? “Wait,” she hushed. Her eyes flashed to me, then around the room. “What about Kite?”
“I can call him in, if you want.” My lips breezed just above her skin, the presence all she could feel. I wanted her—fuck, did I want her. But first, I wanted her to crave me more.
Marina tightened, an elastic at its limit. “I... but the bar.” It was a weak excuse.
My attention wandered over her, inscribing the shape of her parted lips, the hooded draping of her eyelashes. Her heart was fluttering faster than a butterfly in a net.
Bending into her curves, my erection nuzzled her thigh. Her tiny sound was encouraging, but still, I did nothing beyond watching her. The subtle way she pushed her jaw at me made her need for my lips obvious.
I itched to close the gap. She was drawing me in, a black hole that challenged my strength. Kissing her would be so simple, so exquisite.
Music blasted through the speakers in the bar, startling us both. The way her breasts rose with her jump, I almost gave up winning our private game.
Almost ducked in to taste her.
“Sorry!” Kite shouted from the back. The music faded to a reasonable level. “I was trying to liven it up in here!”
Detaching from Marina, I briefly clutched her chin. “It's fine!” I called back, grinning down at her devilishly. My thumb pushed onto her lips, touched her bottom teeth... and then I stepped away. Her fury was tangible. “Good call on the music,” I said, glancing at Kite as he appeared.
He nodded, stretching with a yawn. “It'll help, I was getting sleepy going over all that paperwork.” His attention moved, finding Marina the way each of us always did. Her presence was hard to ignore. “What happened to you two?”
Shaking off her daze, she wiped at her wet shirt. “Nothing,” she said, grabbing a towel. “Just dropped a glass in the sink.”
Folding his arms behind his head, Kite lifted an eyebrow. “Huh. Alright.” If he had any doubt, he didn't show it. His grin bloomed wide. “Ever think about helping us boost sales by hosting a wet T-shirt contest?”
In a blur, she chucked the towel at him. Kite ducked away, laughing. “Very funny,” she said, eyes sparkling. She glanced at me, then turned away.
Our moment was over with.
By the afternoon, we'd gotten the place sparkling. The shipment of new beer kegs arrived, and Kite and I rolled them into the basement to arrange along the walls. Marina helped, too, even though we didn't need it.
Leaning on the barrels, I pulled out my phone and checked for calls.
“Anything?” Marina asked, knowing I hadn't had a single ring all day.
Shaking my head, I tucked the device in my pocket. “No. I'm guessing it'll be up to us to bartend for the evening.”
Defeat pulled her features low. I knew what she was thinking, and it made my heart swell.
Marina wanted me to fulfill my promise, for us to take her aside and shower her with the attenti
on I'd stolen from her this morning.
The waiting had made her passion boil. I was sure by now she was frustrated, almost angry. A powder keg ready to burst.
Kite cracked his back. “I can do it. Or we can take turns.”
“That'll have to do,” I said, cocking my head at Marina. “It'll fly by fast. Don't worry.”
She shrugged as casually as she could. “I'm not worried. I could use a drink, and having you guys serve me will be a blast.”
Her lies were so very transparent.
“Besides,” she went on, swaying towards the stairs. Her walk drew me towards the exciting curve of her perfect ass. “It's not as if I had a better idea on how to spend my time today. Right?”
“No,” I agreed, covertly adjusting my growing hard-on. “I'm sure none of us did.”
With the knowing glance she cast my way...
I wondered how convincing my act was anymore.
- Chapter 29 -
Marina
I was burning up inside. It didn't matter how much whiskey I drank, or how I tried to bury my presence in the thumping music of the evening. No matter what I did to distract myself, my unsatisfied desires were pricking me like needles.
Fucking Jacob, how could he work me up like that?
Sighing, I sipped more of my drink and spun on the stool. The bar was packed, and both Kite and Jacob had ended up serving customers. Together, they dipped and darted and moved like dancers with bottles in their hands.
It was actually fun to watch, kind of sexy. Jacob looked handsome and refined in his usual attire, and Kite had that roguish thing going on, hair intentionally messy.
They were living temptation.
I really hated it.
What I hated more was how many girls were thrusting themselves at Kite.
I'd never spent much time at their bar. There was no reason to. But now, sitting there as a woman giggled and tried to give Kite a deep view down her cleavage, I scowled.
I was pulled from my muddled thoughts by a new presence. “Hey there,” the pale, too-blonde man said. He was perched beside me, all teeth and sly eyes. One look said he was trolling for an easy lay.