Bandit: A Bonnie and Clyde Romance (A Shot of Scott Book 1)

by Ada Scott

  After what seemed like a lifetime, I managed to lift the waistband of his boxers over the tip of his erection and push them down along with his pants. I let out a long sigh of satisfaction when I was able to wrap both hands around that hard rod again.

  Jace pulled his finger out of my now sopping wet slit and brought it to my mouth, pushing it inside so I could taste how hot he’d made me. I gazed right into his eyes as I sucked his finger clean, swirling my tongue all around it and leaning forward so it touched the back of my throat.

  “You wanna take my big cock, Kendall?” he asked, slipping his finger out of my mouth.

  “Yes, sir,” I nodded slowly.

  He put his hand on my throat and pushed me back on the newly-cleared table top until I was lying flat. Trailing his fingers downwards over my body, he paused to squeeze one breast through my shirt before continuing to the hem of my skirt.

  With my legs dangling off the edge of the table, I squirmed to let him hike my skirt up and then pointed both feet straight up to let him slide my panties off. Jace dropped my panties to the ground and then draped my legs over his shoulders.

  I could see that huge dick, towering over my pussy, and even now, after all the times he’d driven the entire thing into me, it was still intimidating enough to make my breath catch in my throat. If Jace didn’t make me so unfathomably wet, there was no doubt it would be beyond my ability to take it.

  Thankfully he did, and as he grabbed his cock mid-shaft and slapped my clit with it, I squealed and squirmed at the sparks of pleasure. I needed him to fuck me as hard as he could, make me forget everything that had just happened for as long as possible.

  “Fuck me like a slut!” I panted.

  When I’d packed my bag and hopped on the bus in Woodville, I never could have imagined any kind of situation where I would have said something like that. Things changed, and I needed to push every one of Jace’s buttons, make him harder and more furiously sexually-charged than he had ever been.

  The man who took my virginity brushed his cock up and down along the length of my slit, spreading his pre-cum on me even as my own natural lubricants glistened on his tip. Soon, I felt that stretching sensation and clung on to the edge of the table with both hands, holding myself in place as he forced that incredible thickness into the depths where only he had been.

  “Uhhhhhn!” I groaned as he slid his entire length into me in one steady stroke.

  My eyes rolled back in my head and my whole world shrunk down to focus between my legs and that wonderful, complete, full feeling. Jace’s balls rested gently against me and he curled his hands around my thighs before pulling back, almost out, and slamming himself home again.

  His balls slapping against my ass and my squeals combined into some fundamental sex sound as my muscular lover used all his power to build up to the frantic pace I so desperately wanted. His huge cock stoked a new fire in my pussy, and every impact of his body against my clit transferred some of that energy to my belly, where it grew with every pulse.

  My well-endowed man relinquished his grip on my legs and leaned forward to tear my shirt open as he had done on the first day we met. This time I didn’t even have a half-hearted protest to mutter.

  The lacy black bra I was wearing clasped at the front to help me make the most out of my small chest, and Jace soon had my breasts free. The cool air touched my skin where the underwire had been digging in, and my sensitive pink tips pointed straight up as if seeking his attention.

  If that was the case then the multi-millionaire didn’t disappoint, pinching them right to the border between pleasure and pain, squeezing and exploring my breasts so thoroughly that it was almost as if he was trying to memorize every gentle curve.

  After a lifetime of hiding it away, especially my breasts, he made me feel like I had the most perfect body in the world. I was worthy of being sought after, worthy of being chased, and I belonged to him.

  Jace held on to my shoulders again and resumed the hard pace that had relented while he appreciated my chest. The thrumming ball of energy in my tummy continued to grow as my breasts, now free, bounced with every hard thrust.

  My legs were still draped over his shoulders and my toes wobbled wildly in the air as Jace fucked me with body-shaking force. A humming sound grew in my ears as my pleasure grew and grew, and my eyelids became heavier, gradually closing as I drifted away on a cock-powered spiritual journey.

  When I came, I came hard, my whole body tensed as ecstasy flooded every fiber of my being, nowhere more so than my pussy, where Jace jack-hammered his thickness in and out of me. I was at the very peak of my climax when he grabbed my throat with both hands.

  It wasn’t enough to hurt, but enough to make me struggle for breath, which only seemed to prolong my orgasm as Jace used his newfound grip to drive into me with some miraculous higher gear. I was sure I was about to pass out when I finally felt that first gloriously warm jet of cum fill my depths.

  I managed to moan and suck more air in as Jace pumped spurt after spurt of his creamy load into my well-fucked pussy. Every movement inside of me sent flutters of bliss randomly around my body, the trailing fingers of my orgasm.

  A few minutes later, he was leaning over me, his hands on the table bearing much of his weight. The only sound in the room was the two of us catching our breath.

  After the intensity of that fucking and the climax, in comparison I could barely feel my body now. I felt like I was floating on nothing, and the man I loved was floating along with me, still hard inside me.

  Jace picked me up and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to the bedroom. It seemed he wasn’t done with me yet. I hugged his neck and held on tight.

  Jace

  I didn’t get much sleep that night. Between rage-fucking Kendall and a few phone calls, I had more than enough to keep me occupied.

  After Kendall fell asleep the first time, I talked to the guys downstairs to check the damage on the other decoy convoys. They didn’t get hit, just mine.

  None of my guys in the convoys knew where we were going or who was driving me until I arrived and told them. The only other person, aside from me, who knew ahead of time which convoy I’d be in and where I was planning on going was the man who made the security plans. Lorenzo. Fucking Lorenzo.

  I was lucky he had no idea just how extensively modified all my cars were, or the Picollis might have got some bigger guns. Or a rocket launcher like my men in the rear car used on that SUV. That would have been a different story. I’d be dead. Kendall would be dead.

  The thought made me fucking seethe. He’d told me that no good would come of my getting mindfucked by a girl. He’d told me to mark his words. Well, I was going to mark that motherfucker’s last words today.

  The sun was coming up now, and Kendall was in a deep slumber next to me. After last night she might be walking funny for a while, but there wasn’t a scratch on her from the attack.

  That was Lorenzo’s saving grace. For that reason, and because we’d been through a lot of shit together, I was going to give him a chance to go out with some dignity and I wasn’t going to make his execution a public one. He could still fuck that chance up though.

  I carefully swung my feet on to the floor and wrote a short note for Kendall, leaving it on my pillow, before walking into my wardrobe. What do you wear when you’re about to kill the man who has been the closest thing to a friend you’ve ever had?

  The answer is, the same thing you’ll wear to his funeral. I picked a dark suit and shoes polished so well that their surface looked like deep, wet, ink. The gun holster even matched.

  Kendall didn’t stir as I slipped out of the bedroom. The first thing I did was call Stefano, one of my senior men who was currently running the team downstairs. I told him that if Lorenzo tried to leave, to haul his ass up here by any means necessary.

  Then I called Lorenzo, who I knew from earlier calls in the night was in a suite downstairs. I knew now it was because it would have looked suspicious if he was anyw
here else but here after what happened yesterday.

  “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he answered. “About time, we need to do some damage control, huh?”

  “Yeah we do. Come on up.”

  “Be there in a few minutes.”

  I waited by my door until I heard the elevator play the arrival tone and opened up before security could give him the spiel about nobody being allowed in under the boss’ orders. Lorenzo walked in, putting on a good show of ignorant business-as-usual. I held my finger up to my lips.

  “Shh. Kendall’s still asleep. Into my office. After you.” I gestured in the general direction and Lorenzo led the way.

  I kept my eyes glued to him like a hawk. Even after we were in my office, when he was heading towards the far couch and I was screwing a silencer on to the end of my gun, I watched that sneaky motherfucker.

  By the time he sat down and looked up again, I was standing over him and the muzzle of the gun was about an inch from his head.

  “Jace, what the f-”

  “Shut up, cunt, and listen carefully. I want you to know something. I know what you did, and you are going to die today. Nothing can stop this. You have no control over that. What you do control is how much it hurts, how many more minutes you’ve got, and how much dignity you go out with. All of those things depend on how much you’ve got to tell me and how much I like what I hear. We’ve been through some gruesome shit, Lorenzo, but I promise you, you have no idea what I’m capable of. You don’t want to find out. Got it?”

  This was it. On the slim chance that I was wrong, he’d protest his innocence to the grave. If he did what I thought he did, he knew me well enough to know when I was serious and I knew him well enough to know that he’d go out like the stoic Mafia tough guy he always saw himself as.

  I could see a thousand possible outs flash through his mind. He started almost as many words, but never got them out before he calmed down and resignation washed over him.

  “Fuck you, you had it coming, kid,” he said.

  “Gun.”

  He handed it over.

  “Other gun. Knife.”

  I brought all his weapons back to the couch opposite him and took a seat, my own gun on the armrest and still pointing right at him.

  “Why?” I said.

  “I may not have liked every decision the Picollis made, but at least they weren’t disrespecting our heritage, the families back home, everything we ever fuckin’ stood for. These bullshit deals with redneck motherfucker biker gangs, all this money you flash around acting like a playboy. It makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach how close you are to having a reality TV show.”

  I shook my head. “That’s it? I’ve got a tighter grip on this city than the Mafia has had for over two decades, but this isn’t the way it should be done? This isn’t ‘pure’? You stupid motherfucker. You’ve never even been to Italy. Why the fuck now?”

  “Sickening or not, nobody could say you haven’t run a tight ship. Until that pussy got into your head. Things have been slipping and you don’t even care. I noticed. The Picollis noticed. They started poking around a bit more. Word got to me that the person who served your head on a silver platter would be made consigliere when they took their territory back. That sounded a lot better than being a babysitter for a piece of shit.”

  “So why didn’t you bring my head on a silver platter? You could have shot me in the back like the chickenshit you are a thousand times by now.”

  “That wouldn’t have sent the right message, wouldn’t have made the right example of you to anybody else who thought they could get rid of the Picollis so easily. They wanted it to be out in the open, and they wanted your whore to go down with you.”

  “Language, motherfucker. Where are the Picollis based now?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck me? Had enough talking? Fine.”

  I stood up and walked over to him. He spat at my feet and looked up defiantly. I could only see the fear in his eyes because I knew him so well.

  “You deserve to be with the Picollis, so I’m going to send you to where most of them are. You fuckin’ stuck-in-the-past assholes and your fuckin’ symbolism and etiquette. If you had any brains, this is what you should have done.”

  I aimed my gun at his head and fired. The first shot killed him instantly, the second added insult, the third proved he did have some brains in that head. At least he used to, now it was sprayed all over my couch. I kept on going.

  Kendall

  The feeling that something wasn’t right crept into my dreams and turned them into nightmares long before I was awake. Endless gunfire, explosions, running away from men in pinstripe suits with tommy-guns. I was thankful when everything faded away and I felt myself back in Jace’s bedroom.

  I reached out for Jace under the warm covers, but his side of the bed was empty. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and looked around. It was still early morning, if the light was anything to go by.

  The silence was better than normal, it was positively soothing to my ears. The way yesterday ended was so loud. Bullets, explosions, hard fucking and screaming orgasms. So damn loud.

  This was the first time the whirlwind of events had stopped spinning me around long enough for me to look at my surroundings. The feeling of wrongness followed me from my dreams.

  I bunched up my eyebrows as I thought about it. It wasn’t the obvious, getting shot at by a bunch of mobsters wasn’t right, but there was more nagging at me, screaming at me to think.

  Mobsters, the Picollis of course. They were the crime family that had been responsible for all the stuff happening lately, but it was hard to imagine what they were coming after Jace for.

  The kinds of businesses that Jace was directly responsible for weren’t the kinds of stores that required Mafia protection from common street crime. Had they got pissed off about all the businesses that were refusing to deal with them that were ultimately owned by Jace?

  Had Jace turned them down too? He was the kind of man that wouldn’t give in without a fight, so were the Picollis trying to teach him a lesson?

  I sat up and winced. My muscles were aching as if I’d spent all day and night in the gym. Shuffling backwards, I arranged the pillows behind me and leaned against the headboard. There was no need to rush this awakening, I supposed.

  On Jace’s pillow was a piece of paper with a hastily scribbled note. It said “Wait here. Back Soon. Love, Jace.” A man of few words, but he said the ones that mattered at least.

  That sense that something was wrong kept worrying at me. I would ask him about whether he was in trouble with the mob when I saw him. Surely he’d be able to explain it away and I’d feel silly for bringing it up. It sure felt silly when I heard myself asking the question in my head.

  Then I remembered how troubled he’d been ever since the Mafia revealed to the world that they were alive and well, despite what the police were telling Lucile and all the other journalists who crowded around at every statement they made to the media. My brow furrowed again.

  The police. Why hadn’t we spent all night at a police station giving statements? It wasn’t like they could have failed to notice all the machine gun fire. Something exploded in that street too.

  My heart sank. All at once my silly question seemed deadly serious. My Jace was in trouble with the Mafia, he’d refused to make a deal, or he had made a deal and it went bad. That was how these things went, right? Bad?

  I gulped. Note or not, I had to ask him, and I had to do it sooner rather than later. Since I’d started staying at Jace’s penthouse more often than my own crappy apartment, I had a small selection of clothes here in a set of drawers against one wall, so I went for that.

  As I dressed, I tried to brace myself for the worst. If he had made a mistake and got involved with these people before things went “bad,” that would explain why we hadn’t gone to the police.

  What would I do if he’d done that? He could go to jail, couldn’t he? The thought of only being able to see him through a bu
lletproof glass window, as we spoke to each other over a prison phone, broke my heart.

  After pulling on a t-shirt, I took a deep breath and stood as tall as I could. I would stand by him. I’d hold his hand as he went to court. When he faced the media afterwards. Forever. He was the best person I knew, and even if he made that mistake I would stand by him.

  With that promise to tell him, in addition to the questions, I stepped out of the bedroom with a renewed sense of purpose. Jace wasn’t in the main open-plan area of his penthouse, it was almost eerie how silent and still everything was.

  I peeked around a few corners to the various nooks and blind spots he might have been doing something in, but there was no sign of him. The guns weren’t on top of the bar anymore.

  Remembering his face when he was retrieving them made me shiver. Had he ever even shot a gun before? He looked like he knew how to use one, but I hoped he wasn’t planning on doing anything crazy like taking on the mob.

  The spare bedroom, also known as the room where we went when the sex was going to get messy like with chocolate body paint, was as empty and quiet as the rest of the penthouse. The only room left was his office, and he’d told me never to go in there because of confidential documents and things that he worked on in there.

  The last thing I wanted to do was to cause him to be in breach of some non-disclosure agreement or anything like that, but stakes had been raised to the level of life-or-death yesterday. Every passing second I wasn’t with him made me more nervous. Suddenly, from behind the office door, I heard a strange sound.

  Whomp! Whomp! Whomp! Whomp!

  A deep, airy, percussion, over and over again. It sounded like a helicopter’s rotors in super-slow-motion. I gripped the handle and turned it, opening the door on silent hinges.

  The scene inside wouldn’t have been out of place in a horror movie. A corpse that looked like it might have been Jace’s colleague, Lorenzo, was slumped on a couch with blood and gore sprayed out behind him on one side, bright red on the white fabric.