Battlefield (The Covenant Book 2)

by Gwendolyn Casey

  “I know there was a Heart named Betsy a few years ago before I joined,” he replied.

  Hearts. I had forgotten that was what they called their club whores. “Well that Betsy was my mother.”

  I heard him stand up and come up behind me. “Do you know who your father is?”

  I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Could be one of your brothers or maybe a random nomad from God knows where.”

  I really didn’t think of the man anymore. There were phases as a teen where I thought maybe I could find him and he would want to help me, take care of me. But Betsy confessed that she told my father about me and that he wanted nothing to with me. Maybe she had been lying, but she had been so desperate to be an old lady that falling pregnant wasn’t beneath her. My father could be just as bad as Betsy, maybe worse. I was too scared to find out what kind of monster sired me.

  Jordan was quiet for a minute, and then he put his arms around my waist, pulling me back against him. I didn't fight him, even though I should have. But it felt good, accepting his embrace, his comfort. I felt his mouth at my ear. “Are you scared that I will do that to you? Get you pregnant then abandon you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, even though that was only part of it. I was also scared of becoming a shell of a woman like the one sitting at home, used and discarded by everyone. I was scared that he would destroy me.

  Jordan turned me in his arms, but I kept my head down, not wanting to meet his gaze. He gripped my chin and lifted my face to his, forcing me to look into his warm brown eyes. I knew what he wanted; I could see it there. He wanted more than just sex from me.

  But it was too frightening to even consider. I stepped back from him. “I’m sorry, Jordan. I can’t.”

  Jordan's eyes narrowed, and his mouth turned hard. He walked toward me, making me back up until I hit the concrete wall of the pavilion. He came into my space, towering over me. I could see that the gentle lover act was over and now the dominant mad man stood before me.

  “You're not sorry. You're scared,” he said. “And if you were any other woman, I'd be walking away by now.” His left hand came up and cupped my jaw while the other gripped my waist. “But this battle isn’t over.” His thumb brushed my lips, and I felt the answering slickness between my legs. His determination was frightening, but it made me feel giddy at the same time.

  “Jesus. I'm not playing hard to get, asshole. I don't want you.”

  Jordan smirked. Then I felt his right hand move to my belly right before it plunged into my pants and into my underwear. I grabbed his wrist, but he was too strong to stop. I gasped as I felt his hand cup my mound and his two middle fingers slipped into my wetness.

  His hand gripped my hair and tugged it gently, so I was looking up at him. “Never lie to me again, especially about this,” he said as he shoved those two fingers deep inside me. I moaned and closed my eyes, knowing that there was no point in fighting him. He could feel the wetness, and he knew I wanted him. And he was enough of a villain to use it against me.

  His fingers fucked me in a steady rhythm. “You want to pretend you don’t belong to me, but we both know the truth,” he growled.

  His words came through the blissful sensations, and I tried to push him away. But my efforts were weak, and he ground his palm against my clit, silencing any protest with waves of pleasure.

  “You are a psycho.” I tried to scream, but it came out as a silky groan.

  He laughed like the devil. “That's right. You remember that when it comes to you, I am a fucking psycho.”

  His mouth came down on mine, his tongue plunging inside. He kissed me like he owned me, deep and rough, and his fingers followed suit, making me writhe. As the feelings consumed me, I couldn't help but want more. I wanted Jordan's thick cock instead of his fingers. I imagined being stretched by his length again. I kissed him back, making my tongue as aggressive as his.

  Jordan suddenly broke the kiss and he slowed his pumping fingers. “You want me inside, don't you?”

  I didn’t answer, not wanting to say it.

  “I can feel your cunt gripping my fingers. It wants something more. Say it,” he demanded.

  I groaned as his fingers teased me, keeping me on the edge of bliss.

  “Yes,” I whimpered.

  He growled and kissed me again. I wrapped my arms around him, ready to give him everything again.

  But he pulled his mouth away with a curse. He gritted his teeth as if he was fighting an inner demon. He looked down at me, the brown of his eyes like molten fire. “As much as I would love to spin you around and fuck you against this wall, we have some issues to resolve.”

  I blinked up at him. Issues? What the fuck? Is he trying to be a decent guy right now? I dropped my head to his chest, ready to cry in frustration. I didn’t want the decent guy. I wanted him to fuck me just like he described.

  He gave me a half smirk, knowing my problem. “But don’t worry, babe,” he said, and I felt his fingers begin to move again. “I will never leave you wanting.”

  He tilted my head back again and watched my face, while he gave me deep, thorough strokes, all while grinding against my clit. The pleasure that had been simmering returned to a boil, and I moaned into the night. I pulled his head down to mine, needing his mouth on mine. He gave it willingly, feeding my wanton body. It was only moments before I let out a cry, coming around him. I gripped his cut as he held his digits deep and put pressure on my clit as it spasmed.

  Still shaking from the pleasure, I leaned back to steady myself on my own feet. He removed his hand from my pants, and I watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking each one like he was eating barbeque. Then he pulled me to him and kissed me again. It was vicious in its intensity. I could practically taste his need on my tongue.

  He broke away with a curse and stepped back from me. Without his body so close I felt cold suddenly. He turned his back on me, but I could see his fists tighten and release at his sides, like he was struggling to get himself back under control.

  I smiled to myself, loving how I drove him crazy. It made me feel feminine and tempting. I indulged in the feeling for a moment, knowing it probably wouldn’t last.

  After a moment, he turned back to me, looking frustrated but calm. He reached for my hand. “Come on. I'll drive you home.”

  I let Jordan pull me to his bike, my body languid while my mind tried to absorb what just happened. I came here to break things off, right? What happened? I would have to analyze it tomorrow because right now I wanted nothing more than to be close to him.

  I climbed on his bike and wrapped my arms around him as he started it. The rumble of the motor was almost soothing after the storm I just survived. When we pulled up to my house I got off the bike slowly, my limbs still loose from my orgasm. He helped me off and then his arm slipped around my waist, pulling me against him. He kissed me gently, without tongue.

  “Goodnight,” I managed as I stepped away.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  I simply nodded and turned to go inside. I tried not to look back, but as I was closing the door, I peeked out to see him still there, still watching me. I shut the door quickly and turned the deadbolt. Only then did I hear him pull away.

  I took a deep breath and leaned back against the door.

  Seriously, what just happened?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jordan

  Las Vegas, NV

  The Present

  I was going to kill her. I was going to wrap my hands around her soft neck and squeeze until those jade green eyes looked up at me with rousing fear. I sat at the bar, pretending to work on my laptop, all while stealing glances at my soon-to-be murder victim.

  Cece.

  I watched her walk across the floor in those heels, swaying her hips, as she helped the other girls set up for the fight tonight. She looked different, and I didn't like it. She had never been the type to care about clothes and make-up. Her sexy curves always shown through in whatever she was wearing, and she
had no need for make-up. Her face and lips were utter perfection. And her eyes were like two pools in an underground cavern, glowing and warm, especially while I was inside her. There was nothing more beautiful than Cece after an orgasm, her eyes sleepy but loving, her mouth soft and sighing.

  “How goes it?” Rafe said as his hand landed on my shoulder, effectively pulling me out of my erotic memory.

  “Good. I think we are ready to put the word out,” I replied, moving my eyes away from Cece as he came around to face me.

  “You looking at the new girls?” he asked. I silently cursed myself for being so obvious. I was better than that.

  But it’s her fucking fault. Fucking Cece, my mind cursed. She shouldn’t be here. She was going to fuck up everything.

  “Choosing a conquest?” Rafe said, lifting one of his dark eyebrows at me.

  “I don't need to conquer,” I said honestly. I had thoroughly conquered Cece, but I couldn’t tell him that.

  “Did you get backgrounds on everyone?” he asked.

  “Yep, they are all clean,” I said. Rafe trusted me to handle all the security. He was foolish that way. After ten years, I expected Rafe to be a little wiser and hardened, but he still trusted a little too easily.

  “Cecelia,” Rafe said suddenly and I watched him wave to her. “Come here.”

  When Cece came our way, he whispered to me, “I'm curious about this one.”

  My heart sped up a bit, but I simply nodded and gave him a smirk.

  “Sit down,” he motioned to the barstool adjacent to me.

  “But the tables…” Cece said timidly.

  “I'm the boss, remember,” Rafe insisted, nudging the chair.

  She gave him a shy smile and took a seat.

  “Tell me about yourself, Cecelia. Where are you from?”

  Shit, I thought. I should have prepped her for these questions. But the last time we spoke I was too obsessed with convincing her to leave. And touching her again, my lust reminded me. The kiss in the bathroom had been a mistake, but it had been so good, like that first shot of whiskey, rough but warms you all over. I couldn’t seem to help myself. And when she bit me, I only wanted her more. I wanted to put her beneath me again, hold her down until she gave me that sweet submission that only she could give.

  “I'm from a small town in South Dakota,” she answered honestly. I tensed, not knowing how honest she was going to be. I had already made up a profile for her online so anyone looking for her wouldn't find anything but a waitressing work record and a driver’s license.

  “Why did you leave? Bright lights call to you?” Rafe asked, using that charming smile.

  Cece smiled back. “Hardly. I was in relationship with this guy and it ended badly, so I decided to get out of town.”

  I glared at her, but she didn’t even glance at me, her eyes staying on Rafe.

  “So sorry, love,” Rafe replied, putting a hand over one of hers. I had to hold myself back from pulling a bottle from the bar and smashing it over his head. My training was the only thing that kept me still.

  “It's okay. I'm over it,” Cece said with a shrug. Only then did she look at me, the familiarity returning to her eyes for just a moment before she looked down. I felt her eyes like a knife to the chest.

  Rafe picked up the hand he was hold and kissed the back of it. “Well, I might have to thank that scoundrel for sending a goddess into our midst.”

  Fucking asshole.

  I hated Rafe, but I could hardly blame him. Cece truly was a goddess. But he saw her as an innocent, but I knew the real Cece. She could lay waste to a man’s soul if she had the inclination.

  She shook her head and blushed. “Thank you,” she said and slowly pulled her hand from his. “I should probably get back to work.”

  He nodded and let her walk away. I breathed a little easier. She hadn’t given anything away. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. Cece was smart. She knew there was more going on here than meets the eye.

  Rafe turned back to me. “Damn, I was hoping she was a virgin,” he said. I kept my face passive, even though the comment had me itching to grab a bottle again. I didn’t want him thinking about her virginity even if she still had it. Cece’s virginity would always be mine.

  “But still, she is innocent,” he said, and I tensed beneath my skin.

  “Why does it matter?” I said, looking back at my computer screen so I didn’t glare at him.

  “My mother has been hounding me for grandchildren, so I've been on the look-out for a good woman to breed.”

  My fingers stilled on the keyboard as his words sank in. I remained still so I wouldn’t choke the life out of him.

  He turned back around to look at her. “She may not be a virgin, but she is gorgeous and sweet. Maybe I'll take her out. If she proves worthy, maybe I'll make her the first Mrs. Rafe Digali and start making some sons.”

  He patted me on the shoulder and headed back toward his office. Every instinct told me to tackle him and break his neck, but I held still, pulling on every ounce of control I had.

  I briefly wondered if this was all a dream because it truly felt like my worst nightmare.

  Him taking an interest in her sexually was bad enough but he wanted to date her, marry her, breed her.

  Over my dead body…

  Cece couldn’t stay here. She had to leave, or she would ruin everything. My best guess was that she was here to find out why I left. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. She would only want to stay even more.

  I’d have to convince her that I left because I wanted to leave. I’d have to push her away if I wanted to protect her. But pushing her away was something I never tried. I was always too busy trying to pull her closer. For now, I’d simply avoid her until I found the strength to truly hurt her. It was the only way to save her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cece

  Clayton, SD

  Three and a Half Months Earlier

  The next morning, I made the decision to simply avoid Jordan no matter what. Last night at the park made it obvious that I couldn't trust myself around him. All he had to do was touch me and all my walls just crumbled. I was no better than my mother after all.

  I had to give myself a pep talk as I got ready for the day. I was sure Greg's scene yesterday would guarantee gossip about me, meaning glares and whispers for the next few months.

  I was waiting for Lauren when a Chevy truck drove in front of the house and it came to a stop. I stood off the porch and groaned. Jordan was grinning back at me from the driver’s seat.

  “Come on, gorgeous,” he said.

  I approached the truck and crossed my arms. “Where is Lauren?”

  “She had an errand to run before work, so she asked me to drive you.”

  Lauren, she is dead.

  “And how much did you pay her to run her imaginary errand?” I asked as climbed into the cab.

  “A hundred bucks.”

  “Little pricey for a five-minute drive.” Jordan put the car in drive and pulled onto the dirt road.

  “Actually, it was for the week.”

  “The week?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I'm your ride to work and from work for the rest of the week.”

  Jordan kept his eyes forward, but I could see the satisfied smirk on his face. I let out a huff and crossed my arms, looking out the window. I may have been forced into this, but I didn't have to talk to him.

  “You on the pill?” Jordan asked out of the blue. I wanted to say it was none of his business. But he had you without a condom. Twice.

  “Yes, you have nothing to worry about,” I said without looking at him.

  “I wasn't worried, just curious.”

  My head turned to look at him without meaning to, a little shocked by his words. “So, me being pregnant doesn't scare you?”

  He shrugged. “I'm not scared to be a father.”

  That statement was a lot to unpack, but I didn’t know where to start.

  “What are you scared of?” I asked
without thinking. He didn't respond, and then I noticed that we had pulled into the Bigby's parking lot.

  “I'll tell you on the way home,” he said.

  The way home? His answer made me angry, but then I realized that I shouldn't care. I opened the door with another huff.

  “See ya at five, babe,” he said.

  I gave him a sneer and slammed the door.

  I made my way into the store, knowing Jordan was probably laughing at my immature attitude.

  I was still pouting when I found Mark and Lauren talking in the break room.

  “Good morning,” Lauren said, but I just glared at her.

  “Oh, don't be mad.”

  “How can I not be mad? You pimped me out to a biker,” I said.

  “I’ll be in my office,” Mark said as he left the room, obviously wanting to avoid the drama.

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Allowing him to drive you to work hardly qualifies as pimping you out.”

  “For the price, it sure does,” I snapped.

  She smiled. “I am making some good money off the deal.”

  I slammed my locker shut and turned away from her.

  “We both know you want that man, so stop acting like you don't,” she said.

  “That is not the point,” I said, literally stamping my foot.

  “Then what is the point?”

  I walked to the mirror, pulling my hair up into a ponytail. “You’re only making this harder on everyone. Did you forget that I am leaving for California soon?”

  She looked at me in the reflection. “No, I didn't. And maybe I want to find a reason for you to stay.”

  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. I decided this conversation was futile, so I simply left the room. She followed me to the registers, where we already had a few people waiting.

  The day had a steady stream of customers that kept me from thinking too much about my messy life. It was a few hours later that I heard the distinct sound of whispering from behind me. I looked over to the register next to me and found two pairs of eyes staring at me. The two women were dressed for yoga class, obviously housewives with nothing better to talk about. They quickly looked away, but I could tell they were talking about me.