Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3)

by Scarlett Finn

  “By now you should trust me to handle shit,” he snarled. “I withhold information, I lie to you, to protect you.”

  But she didn’t want his protection on those terms. She wanted to know it all, everything there was to know about him, about his past, his fears, the future, everything. “I’d rather be in danger than shut out,” she said, and he grabbed her up to seize her mouth.

  Throwing her arms around him, she felt his body twist to come down over hers, and then his hand was up her skirt stroking her sex. “You fucking belong to me,” he said, nipping her lip. “And I’m your guy, nothing busts this up, hear me? You get that shit out your head.”

  “Uh huh,” she rushed the words, and he plunged two fingers into her. Yelping, she reared up and undulated against them.

  Reaching for his groin, she pressed her palm into the solid dick behind his fly and rubbed it while moving her hips. Tearing his gaze from hers, he took his eye to the scope. While he was distracted, she pulled her top over her head and freed him from his jeans.

  When she squeezed her fist around him, he took his attention from the scope, and it fell to her naked breasts. “Swift will be coming back,” he said and glanced around in the direction of the door, but she was already climbing onto his lap.

  “I’ll be quick,” she panted, she was already wet enough to suck him in deep, and he grabbed her waist to hold her down on him.

  He filled her so completely that she squirmed with the need to push him out and pull him in, both at the same time. It felt so good to have him crammed so deep that she could feel his length throbbing inside her, pushing the limits of her swollen center. But as she whimpered and bit her lip, he wouldn’t let her move.

  “You think you want this?” he demanded

  “I need it,” she said and tried to move, but he clamped an arm around her pelvis, pushing her clit into his groin until she yelped at the desperation that made her writhe against him. “Please… please, baby.”

  “I want you to remember this,” he said. “You feel my fat cock all the way up inside you. It feels good, doesn’t it? You dirty girl, you love this, pretty baby.”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Please.”

  His precision focus on her eyes increased her need. “You’ll be begging and apologizing for a long time. You’ll never forget your duty to my dick. It’s your job to keep it happy, plaything. No one else gets to play.”

  His palm pressed to her cheek and he pushed her hair away to gather it in his fist. Pulling her head back at an angle that allowed him to suck her pulse point hard, the burn prompted her to dig her nails into him and call out his real name.

  They made eye contact, and she was apologizing all over again. They had aliases for this reason, so they didn’t have to use real names in what was potential enemy territory. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have—”

  “Always knew you were naughty,” he said, grabbing and fondling her breast. His other arm loosened and he smacked her ass. “Now you can ride it like the dirty whore you’re playing.”

  Using his shoulders to steady herself, she moved up and down, back and forth, working herself over him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, she thought to give her traction, but he pulled her to the side and peeked through the scope again.

  It was impressive that he still remembered they were on a job given what they were doing. She smiled. “Am I distracting you?” she asked, and he smacked her again.

  “Is that sass?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, speeding up as the heat of pressure grew in urgency. “Would that piss you off?”

  His eyes slunk to hers. He sat back and considered her. The pride she read in him made her work harder. Just as she found her rhythm, he thrust both arms around her and stood up, sending the scope onto the floor, but he didn’t pay the equipment any heed. With their bodies still engaged, he carried her to the bed and threw her off his cock onto the mattress.

  “Think riling me is hot? Think pissing off a guy who trades in pain is smart?”

  His jeans were loose over his hips, and he pulled his belt from the loops and halved it to snap the leather. The sound was abrupt enough to startle her, but she stretched her arms above her head and her legs down to her pointed toes. She wasn’t afraid of him, and he would never hurt her. He snapped the belt again.

  “Suck my cock,” he said, holding himself and coming close to the bed. She flipped over and crawled to the edge to take his shaft from his hand.

  Opening her lips, she licked her taste from him and sucked him as hard as she could, her head bobbing as she tested her ability to take him to her throat. He scooped her hair out of the way and held it tight. But she worked hard at her task, squeezing her thighs together when she heard the whisper of curses come from his lips.

  She assumed he was close to climax, so she doubled her effort. He let go of her hair and looped his belt around the back of her neck. He slid it into its buckle, but didn’t fasten the pin. With his hold on her improvised leash, he pulled her away and retreated.

  “That’s your job, plaything. My dick’s your full-time occupation.”

  She nodded and smiled, he let go of the belt after a yank backwards and she fell onto the bed. He lay down over her and she opened her legs to accept him inside her. In a powerful move, he pushed himself through her juices into her slick passage. “Raven,” she whispered, arching up into his invasion.

  The insistence of his member grew. It forged its advance, opening and closing her internal space, forcing her body to stroke his, to stimulate nerves, to pleasure him as he needed. He was using her to sate his desire. The stimulation drove her to an insanity of chemical overload that made her scratch at him, to grasp and claw her resolve to take him all, to own him and be owned.

  “Every name, whoever I am, you’re the only one I touch. You’re my woman.”

  “Yes,” she exhaled, working hard to move with him, but she was beginning to tire.

  Lowering to lick her earlobe, his breath warmed her. “You like that? You like it when I fuck you?” he growled into her ear and kept pumping his hips.

  “Mm,” she mumbled her approval and he boosted himself up again.

  “Swallow,” he said and the name made her eyes pop open to lock onto his. “Fucking say it.”

  “You’re my guy,” she cried out, close to her own climax. “Oh, God, yes! Fuck me, Raven!”

  The noise of banging on the wall didn’t shatter the haze of her hormones that made her call out when she came. Brodie clamped a hand over her mouth to quiet her as he expanded and jettisoned his seed within her. The banging came again. She and her lover weren’t calling out for each other anymore. They were just panting into the humid air they’d created, trying to find their equilibrium again.

  TWELVE

  She found something comforting about the moisture he left inside her as he withdrew. There was no time for lying together, no cuddles and reassurance. Brodie went straight to the scope, pulling his jeans up with one hand as he picked up the fallen equipment and took a look through it.

  Happy to relax and enjoy her own afterglow, even if Brodie didn’t have a permit to join her, Zara just breathed and let her body stay heavy. “Can you see him?” she asked, looking at the water-stained ceiling.

  “He’s in bed,” he said and glanced at his watch. “Swift and I agreed to give him an hour, then we’ll go in.”

  “What?” she said, sitting up. The weight of his belt fell into her cleavage. She’d almost forgotten it was around her neck. Picking it up, she loosened it to pull it off over her head.

  Brodie was on his feet, fastening his jeans, so she got up and went over to stand in front of him. He frowned down at her. She smiled and began to thread his belt through its loops. “I love you,” she said, putting both arms around him to get it through the loops at the back.

  “You’re not in one of your smiley, happy moods now, are you?” he asked, peering down at her like she was contagious and so should be avoided.

 
; He might be Mr. Assassin tonight, but she’d just been fucked good and hard, she loved it when they played their games. “Maybe,” she said. When she was finished with the belt, she elected not to fasten it and chose instead to leave it loose. Gathering his tee shirt, she lifted it up to kiss his ridged abdomen, then pulled it higher and kissed his chest.

  “I meant it when I said Swift was coming back,” he said, taking her wrists to pull her off his body. “We’re in for an all-nighter, but not the sort you’re looking for.” He scanned south then dropped down on the couch. “Put your tits away.”

  She didn’t even know where her top was. Seeking it out, she found it on the floor and bowed to pick it up, ensuring to turn and bend at the waist so he could get a view of her ass in the G-string that wasn’t hidden at this angle because her skirt was so short and loose.

  “You’re gonna tease me all night, aren’t you?” he asked and spanked her before she stood up.

  “I’ll try to be good,” she said, looking through her hair over her shoulder as she pulled on her skimpy halter-neck.

  “You better ‘cause we’re working,” he said and slumped in the couch, appearing none too happy that they were constrained by circumstance.

  “What are you going over for?” she asked, sitting beside him, right beside him, so their bodies were in full contact. “You said that you and Tuck had agreed to give Kahlil an hour before you are going in.”

  He glanced down at her to register her proximity, despite the vast length of couch on her other side, then sat forward to peer through the scope. “We can bug the place while he’s asleep.”

  Frowning, she thought of all the things that could go wrong. “Is that smart?” she asked. “He might have gadgets of his own or men watching the door.”

  “Possible,” Brodie said. “We know what we’re doing. We’ll be careful.”

  She sighed. “And I’ll sit here looking through the scope, hoping you’re not decapitated by his crazy friends. He had two guys with him at CI the night he met Grant, don’t forget what happened in the CI parking garage. I would guess he’d have more if he’s staying here in this shady area. He could have bodyguards in the next door apartment or something.” Brodie didn’t respond. Her thoughts came to a new conclusion. “It would make more sense for me to go in.”

  Now she was sure he was listening. “How in the fuck do you figure that?” he asked, giving up the scope.

  “You’re the sniper. So if I get in trouble, you can eliminate the threat. You’ve shot people right next to me before. Hell, you shot Tim when he was on my face. I’ve only shot one person, and he was so close it was impossible to miss. If you and Swift go over there and get into trouble, I’ll be more likely to shoot the old lady two floors below than be any help to either of you. Also, Kahlil knows me, and his men might too. If they catch me I can vamp, tell him I’m there to talk about Game Time or something, see if I can’t get him to talk about Future’s Hope.”

  She preferred using the name of the vessel than referencing his parents. Brodie didn’t need it spelled out. He was considering her suggestion, he didn’t dismiss her, and that sign of respect bolstered her need to be useful. To be a part of the Kindred, she would have to do jobs like this. She didn’t have experience, but practice was the way to get that, Brodie had said so himself.

  “We’ll leave Swift here to spot,” Brodie said and returned to his spying.

  She didn’t mind if Brodie was the one with her, she just wanted to understand the decision. “Why?”

  “Because they’ve seen me come to your defense before.” In the CI parking garage. “And if they watched Atlas play out, they saw us together. I doubt they noticed Tuck, and we don’t make our people show their faces unless they have to.”

  He cared for his cohorts and that made her love him more. Bringing her hand to his face, she stroked it as she twisted her knees onto the couch under her to lean in and kiss him. He accepted the kiss until she tried to slide her tongue into his mouth. Then he took her arm to pull her away.

  “Seriously, Swallow, sit your ass down.”

  That he was so serious about her keeping her hands to herself tickled her, but she had to respect his wishes. They were on a job and she could be a professional. She always had been before, then again, she’d never been boning her boss before. Choosing to lie on the couch, she pressed the balls of her feet into his thigh and drummed her toes.

  Brodie kept one hand on the scope and dropped the other to her bare ankles. She appreciated the nod to their intimacy, even though they were being responsible. “How did you meet Caine?”

  He glanced at her but answered as he went back to work. “In a bar,” he said. “It was… years ago… five, maybe ten, I don’t know… whatever, we met in a bar.”

  “And you became friends?”

  “We were never friends,” he said, leaning around the arm of the couch, he pulled the bag from under the desk over to the floor at his feet. “It was a poker game, a big deal, major odds. He was just another guy there, least he was to me. Someone told him of my legend, and it was after that he started hanging around, showing up in places we were, even shot a couple of my kills.”

  “He took jobs from you?”

  “No,” Brodie said. Opening the bag, he pulled aside the edges to reveal a case—Maverick. “Back then he was trying to impress me, wanted in on the inside. He stalked who we stalked and would set up to try and take the kill shot before I did.”

  “Did he?”

  “I said he shot them, not killed them,” he muttered over his shoulder and opened the case to take the pieces out and put his closest ally together. “He shot shoulders, took off one guy’s ear, he shot another guy in the hip, no idea where he was aiming at on that one. A couple of times he missed completely, making the target and others scatter. Pissed me off ‘cause it meant I had to work faster, and if it was in public, people panicked, it caused mayhem.”

  “You ever miss?” He stopped what he was doing to turn his glare on her, and it was enough to make her grin. He didn’t appreciate his skills being questioned. “Did you tell him that he was being a pain in the ass?”

  Brodie continued building Maverick. “Confronted him more than once, but he just liked the attention, he was an eager puppy trying to please his master.”

  “But Cuckoo changed that?” she asked, watching how efficient he was at putting the weapon together.

  “He knew her before I did. Fucked her before I did too. She heard about me from him. I think he was trying to impress her with his knowledge and didn’t think the game through to the end, always was his problem,” he said. Holding the weapon upright, he gave it a once over, then flipped it around in a quick motion and laid it down on top of her. “She’s not loaded, but don’t touch her.”

  Raising her arms above her head, Zara flopped them over the arm of the couch she was resting on. He was more protective of Maverick than he was of her. Zara wiggled her toes against him, it was the only available avenue to tease and show him affection with a rifle on top of her.

  Trying to peer down the barrel that was pointed at her, she arched to lift it and give her a better view. This weapon had seen her up close many times when Brodie was aiming to keep an eye on her. It had taken lives and protected her.

  Brodie was busy with something else and she moved up and down, testing the hardware. The weight of the weapon surprised her, and the metal quickly heated with the warmth of her body. It was a formidable piece and would be terrifying if turned against a person. But all she could think about were the times it had saved the lives of people she cared about, including Brodie’s.

  “Fuck.”

  She expected Brodie’s exhaled exclamation to be directed at something out the window, but the scope had been moved away from the window and there was another tripod in its place. “What?” she asked, unsure why he was scowling at her with such a keen appreciation.

  Taking her foot, he pulled it over his thigh and pressed her toes into the erection in his jeans. �
�I told you not to fuck with me.”

  She massaged him with her toes. “I’m not fucking with you. I’m just admiring your hardware,” she said, tracing a fingertip down the long barrel of the rifle. “You’re the one that put her on top of me. Two females laid out and ready for your choosing, beau.”

  “Don’t make me choose,” he said, and she was disappointed when he took the rifle from her to attach it to the tripod.

  Something settled over his expression when he looked through the telescopic sight and began to adjust various knobs and dials. She didn’t think there would be a better view from the weapon than there had been from the prop that was there before, but when he was done fiddling he seemed more at ease with his trusted companion set up.

  Zara sat up, crossing her legs under her and stroking her hands over his thigh to get his attention. “Can I look?”

  As far as she’d seen, he hadn’t put any ammunition in the rifle yet, so there wouldn’t be a better time. Picking her up, Brodie pulled her onto his lap. He settled one hand on her hip and the other on his gun at the same time she leaned forward to look through the sight. The image was so much clearer.

  “Put your cheek here,” he said, pressuring her cheekbone to position her. “It’s a little high for you.”

  The lines and markings were different and the green of the nightlight was sharper. Kahlil was there in his bed, unaware that he had such a powerful firearm pointed at him.

  Brodie had been doing this for years, these kind of experiences were mundane to him, but she had never been party to such a thing. Lifting a hand, she didn’t get the chance to touch the weapon because Brodie caught her wrists and pulled her hands around to the small of her back, which forced her ass to slide against the lump in his jeans.

  “I just cleaned her,” he said, but he’d had no problems with using her body as a weapon rest.

  Zara smiled and focused on the gun sight again. “In all these months we’ve been together, I never realized.”