She shrieked, filling the truck cab with her cries and arched back as her body was suddenly and violently full. She gasped at the intrusion and reached for something, anything, accidentally hitting the horn and setting off a horrible, blaring sound. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes met his. They both laughed, then fell silent as the feel of him inside her body hit her once more. Deep tingles of pleasure started in her belly and gradually sizzled outward until she was writhing underneath him, silently begging him to get the show on the road.
“Awe fuck, Luce, this isn’t going to take long,” he groaned, staring down at her.
She reached over her head and gripped the edge of the console with both hands, thrusting her hips against his, forcing his cock even deeper into her pussy. “Don’t care,” she panted. “Do me fast and dirty, Mack!”
He grabbed her by the neck, held her fast and kissed her hard. “I am so in love with you, baby,” he growled against her.
She looked back up at him, her eyes shining. “And I’m so in love with you, Mack. Now please, please finish!”
Epilogue
I twist around from where I’m kneeling in the dirt and glance back at Mack. He’s sitting on the porch steps, wearing only a pair of jeans, his broad chest gleaming in the sunlight, rippling with muscles. His elbows are on his knees, his phone held loosely between his hands. He’s expecting a call.
He’s watching me again. Mack is always watching, tracking my every movement with those incredible eyes. He’s always been that way, but it’s become somehow different since the day those guys snatched me off the street. I shudder as memory threatens to flicker through my brain once more and destroy the delicate peace we’ve found here.
Mack thinks my desperate attempts to fill his home with the beauty of flowers and music is my way of fixing the darkness in his life by taking everything ugly away. I half-smile at the empty liquor bottles filled with dirt and flowers. Then the smile slides from my lips. I press my fingers against the ground where I’m planting even more petunias around the perimeter of his underground bunker; a place he once showed me, designed to withstand a war.
No, I’m not trying to erase Mack’s former life. I would never do that. Everything about him is what made him the man I fell in love with. I’m filling our lives with colour, as a reminder that there is beauty in this world, even in the face of senseless violence. I need this. For him. For me. For when death comes knocking again.
Mack’s phone rings, interrupting our silent moment of harmony and sunshine. I sit back on my haunches, ignoring the dirt that digs into my skirt and knees, ignoring the hot sun that beats down on my head. I know who this phone call is from. I know what it means.
I hear Mack talk for a moment and then end the call, his voice sharp. He drops the device onto the porch then stands and walks toward me. I refuse to look at him until he stands over top of me, so very tall that he blocks the sun, shadowing me, protecting me. He places his hand gently on top of my head and directs me to look up at him.
His face is unreadable. My heart beats faster. Good news? Bad news? Is Niccolo DeLuca coming to kill me? I silently beg Mack to tell me that all will be well, that the ideal world we’ve created together on this beautiful acreage property isn’t about to come crashing down, taken out in a hit, perpetuated by a deadly mobster with a grudge against the woman that befriended his beloved one random evening.
I lick my lips, lift my dirt encrusted hands and clasp them together on my lap in an attempt to stop the trembling. I try to make my voice strong as I demand, “What did he say?”
“They found Maria,” Mack said grimly, not bothering to withhold information. Since we’ve gotten back together, Mack always gives me what I want, always answers my questions. Even when I don’t like the answers.
“Was she alive?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Please God, let that poor woman be alive.
THE END
Acknowledgments
Dear readers,
Thank you once again for hanging in there with me through another release! I can’t believe I’m releasing my 13th book, the 7th in my Fire & Vice series. When I started publishing two years ago I never imagined that I could accomplish this much, and it’s completely thanks to the loyal readers who found and supported me along the way.
In His Sights was such a fun book to write! It had me laughing, singing and dancing around my apartment like a maniac. Through Lucy and Mack’s eyes I was able to see and write a future filled with love and hope after a major heartbreak in my life.
I want to say a BIG thank you to my editor, Jasmin Quinn, for once again providing quality editing, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to chew on and an unflinching soul when I rant and rave because she said something about my book baby. Thank you to Drew from idrewthis.ca for my images and another fabulous cover.
Thank you to Sansa for administrating my group, talking me on and off ledges and generally listening to me be weird; all while gracefully and persistently asking where the damn book is. Thank you to Kimberly for assisting with the group and other promotional opportunities, it’s so very much appreciated!
So much love to all my readers, I’m beyond grateful. You give my books life.
Nik
Sneak peek: Fire & Vice Book 8 – Burning Beauty
“What is this?” Nic asked coldly, not bothering to pick up the file his man placed on the desk in front of him. Luke would fill him in with the essentials.
“You were right,” Luke told him. “Franco Delgado is going to attempt to set you up in Las Vegas when you attend the meet.”
The bodyguard stood stiffly, his hands behind his back, his gaze straight ahead. Though they’d become ‘friendly’ over the years, they were far from friends. Nic didn’t have friends, he had employees and business associates. Luke was the former. Once a person stopped being useful to Nic, they stopped. Period.
Nic nodded slowly and waved a hand lazily toward the file. “I assume this contains information on the set-up, yeah?”
Luke inclined his head.
“Explain it to me,” Nic invited, waving his second toward one of the chairs.
Luke settled his bulky, muscular frame into one of the plush guest chairs in Nic’s opulent office. He could see why Tess liked the younger man so much. He was good-looking, loyal and far easier to be around than the foreboding Italian boss. Nic searched the blackness of his heart for a spark of response for his wife’s preference toward another man. Nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to care what the two got up to, so long as it didn’t interfere with either Nic’s reputation or Luke’s work.
“Tell me,” Nic drawled, leaning back in his leather chair and reaching for a cigar, one of the few regular substances he allowed himself. “What does Franco Delgado have planned for me?”
Luke cleared his throat and shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable. Nic knew it was him and not the chair that was making his subordinate squirm. Nic was a cold man. He had little desire to be known or liked by anyone as more than their boss or executioner. Anyone that claimed him as more wanted something from him.
“According to my Vegas source, Franco plans on using a honey trap to lure you into giving up key assets,” Luke said gruffly, shifting again, placing an ankle over his knee.
Nic frowned and tapped his index finger against the file. He wore a heavy, gold masculine ring on that finger. It was large, but not large enough to cover the scrawling tattoo across his finger. It read nell’oscurita or “into the dark.” When he spoke, the impatience was clear, giving his accent a sharper edge. “And he thinks, what… that I will fall in love with his honey and willingly spill all my secrets?” He snorted and flipped the file open, his dark brown eyes glacial as they swept the words within. “He must know me better than this. I have never before succumbed to a vice; woman or otherwise. Why should I start now?”
Nic tossed the first page aside and scanned he second page, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. He was insulted at the lack of intelligence in this trap. Fran
co was an idiot. Of that, there could be no doubt. But this plan… it was ludicrous. How could anyone possibly think a man of Niccolo DeLuca’s standing could possibly be brought low by a woman? Utterly ridiculous.
He would burn Delgado’s castle to the ground, with him in it, slit the honey bitch’s throat and take the competition for himself. It was exactly as Franco had feared he would do. Which was why the little pussy was trying to play him. He flipped the page. His hand hovered and froze. A large photograph sat on the desk in front of him. A woman. For the first time in his life he couldn’t seem to move. And this from a simple picture.
Because he seemed unable to tear his eyes from her face, to go through the rest of the documents, he demanded, “Her name.”
“Maria Sanchez.”
Maria.
It would appear that Franco Delgado was not such an idiot after all. Somehow the raging fool knew exactly how to bring Nic to his knees. There was no question now of slitting this woman’s throat. He soaked in every part of her that he could, every nuance from the photograph and instantly craved more. Her thick, dark eyebrows winged in mischief while her brown eyes snapped angry intelligence for the camera she somehow spotted over the curve of her shoulder. Her long, wavy black hair begged for his fist as it flowed down her back. Her body… fuck her body was a curvaceous work of art.
He wanted her in his hands, beneath his body and under his control so bad he damn near shook with the need. A partial smile had him gritting his teeth. Both she and that fucker Delgado were handing him the means to put her firmly in his house. Exactly the way he wanted her. On her knees, begging for mercy. Because she was a bad girl, doing bad things, going up against a man like him. Under normal circumstances the thought wouldn’t so much as raise a brow. He would simply wave his hand and have the bitch dealt with. Now… he felt a mix of emotions; anger, curiosity, elation and lust. He intended to punish this woman, whoever she was, for however long this fascination lasted.
Then she could go the way of everyone else that crossed him. But for now… he would explore this temporary anomaly. Because nothing had peaked his cold, dead heart, nor his interest in more years than he cared to count.
It was everything Nic could do to bring his pulse back under control and make sure he wasn’t panting like a dog while he second-in-command watched from across the desk as he lusted after a woman in a photograph. He lifted dark, empty eyes and tapped the center of the picture over her chest, pinning her in place. “This woman is mine.”
Luke nodded sharply and rose from his seat. They needed no further conversation. Though Nic had never before claimed a woman beyond a night or two in an anonymous hotel room, Luke would ensure his plans for Maria Sanchez went smoothly. He knew better than to fuck with anything that Nic deemed important enough to lay claim to.
3 Months later
Missing.
His woman was motherfucking missing and not a single person could explain to him how the untouchable woman of one of the most savage mob bosses to touch down in the United States could disappear off the street without a whisper. Nic threw his phone with a savagery that didn’t bode well for anyone that knew him. Nic was everything that was calm and collected. Even when he killed, it was always with a calmness that sucked the civilization out of a room and made those left to bear witness tremble in fear.
There was a reason Niccolo DeLuca had been expelled from his own country and sent to conduct business in a place that could appreciate his level of savagery and disregard for polite rules. He was vicious and effective. He was top of the food chain.
Whoever took Maria would pay in rivers of blood and mountains of broken bones. They would pay with the screams of their children and the bodies of their kin. And if Maria was hurt in any way… The. World. Would. Burn.
His obsession with the honey had become such an all-consuming, burning emotion. He knew his fire burned his beauty too. He knew she would run from him if she could; if he looked away for a single second. He was the opposite of everything she stood for. He was oppression, subjugation, hate, fear and vice. She was intelligent and beautiful, she stood for those that were too weak to stand for themselves.
Nic hammered his fist through the bar top, shattering the frosted glass, then, pulling his hand out, fell to his knees. He reached for one of the bottles that had fallen to the floor, uncaring what is was and drank deeply. Alcohol and rage mixed while he waited for news. He made it through a quarter of the bottle when his phone finally rang. He lunged for it.
“Yes,” he barked.
“They think they found the other girl, Lucy Miller,” Luke informed him.
“I don’t give a fuck about the other girl,” Nic snarled, gripping the phone so hard it should have cracked. “Talk to me about Maria.”
“I’m coming to pick you up. If this Lucy bitch is alive she probably knows where Maria is.”
Nic grunted and hung up the phone. Luke was right. He needed to use his head and save his rage for the people who deserved it. Because if he didn’t get the right answers from Lucy Miller and the Sitnokovs he was going to burn this city to the ground with everyone in it.
Look for Burning Beauty coming soon in 2019!
Get the latest updates at nikitaslater.com
Excerpt: Fire & Vice Book 4 – Savage Vendetta
“I asked you a question, Sitnikov,” she spat his name like it was a curse. “What do you want?”
His thin lips curled up in a cruel smile – though, to be fair, she didn’t think the hard slash of his mouth was made for anything other than cruel expressions. “Ah, Jane, now that is a question with many answers. Few that I think you would enjoy quite yet.” He leaned back, his chair creaking against the worn tile of her kitchen floor.
Jane rolled her eyes. “I’m definitely not in the mood for word games, Sitnikov. Why the fuck are you here, in my home? One would think that you’d prefer to keep your distance from the cop that’s about to take you down.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but otherwise his expression didn’t change. “You have a smart mouth, Jane, you should be careful what you say with it, lest a concerned citizen step in to shut those lovely lips,” he remarked quietly. “Call me Vladimir.”
“Not in this lifetime, Sit-ni-kov,” she sneered, pronouncing each syllable of his last name deliberately. “Also, I’m pretty sure that was a threat you were uttering. You might want to step lightly while in the presence of a police officer and her gun. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to claim self-defense if a suspected mob boss were shot in my apartment.”
A muscle in his strong jaw jumped. The sudden tightening of his body was barely perceptible, except to the eyes of an experienced cop. She’d spent enough time in the interrogation room to know when a man was stopping himself from lunging across the table toward her. She almost smirked at the thought of getting a reaction out of a man like Sitnikov. She really did have a remarkable tendency to piss people off. It was how she had made detective at such a young age. Her dogged determination combined with her take-no-prisoners attitude had impressed the higher ups. Plus, she pissed off her beat sergeant to the point where he was happy to see her promoted and out of his department.
“I have an offer for you,” Sitnokov said, his dark eyes drinking her in.
She arched her eyebrow. “This should be good.”
“Be my mistress.”
Jane sat frozen in her chair caught between laughter at the absurdity of his proposition, and terror. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You would let a cop get that close to you? Just to scratch an itch? You like to live dangerously, don’t you, Sitnikov? Sure, yeah, let’s do it. Can we go back to your place now? Can I have the code to your safe before we get down?”
His lips curled in a quasi smile at her sarcasm. “No, I would not allow a police detective access to my private life,” he said calmly.
Jane frowned. “I don’t understand. Supposedly you want to have a fling with me, a detective, but you don’t plan on lettin
g law enforcement near you. I’m not sure how long it’s been for you, but usually that kind of intimacy requires a physical presence. Not that I’m even remotely entertaining the idea of any kind of relationship with you. Not happening, Russian.” She spat the last word.
He didn’t seem to enjoy the way she spoke to him. His body was rigid in the seat and he seemed to be struggling with himself. She was happy to have a weapon close at hand. She suspected that no one spoke to the Boss the way she just had. Or if they did, they quickly found themselves without a tongue and having silent conversations with fishes. She had to bite her own tongue just from pointing out her original assertion that she tended to annoy people.
“Listen to my offer, then give your opinion, woman.” He deliberately sneered the last word. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, taking in every expression that crossed her features. “You will quit your job and come to live with me. For a time, we will share a home and a bed. I will pay you a monthly fee that will make your current salary look like a child’s allowance. I will also give you a generous settlement and a house once we have finished our association.”
Jane’s breath caught in her chest and pain blossomed. She felt sudden and intense hatred for the man sitting across from her. It made her feel out of control, something she hadn’t felt for years. Not one to hide her feelings, Jane reached out and picked up the gun. She pointed it at him, flipped the safety off and said, “We’re done with this conversation. You can go now.”
His dark eyes snapped in fury before he hid it under his usual icy visage. “You do not like my terms, though they are more than generous? Name what it is you want then, I may be willing to negotiate.”
Jane clenched her teeth and spoke in a furious voice. “I want you to admit to the murder of Dennis Yankovich. On record. Then I want you to go rot in a federal prison somewhere for the rest of your life. In the mean time, you can take your offer and go fuck yourself.”
In His Sights Page 25