She flips the switch for the lamp on the nightstand and presses a finger to her kiss-swollen lips in a be-quiet gesture.
I give her a nod, getting a closer look at the devastation in the light. Her lipstick is smudged and her hair is tangled where he fisted his hands into it. At the image of him on top of her, inside her, rage like I’ve never known rears up inside me and takes control.
She starts cleaning my wounds and I focus on the sting. It helps to clear my mind. I can’t go all Neanderthal right now and blow this whole thing. Business first.
She rips the tape off my mouth once she’s got me bandaged back up. “Hungry?” she whispers.
“Ravaged.” I don’t hide the insinuation as I look her over. “You? Or did you just eat?”
I don’t know why I feel the need to push the point, but I have to know.
The hint of a smug smile tugs at her mouth. “I did. He was delicious.”
I can’t tell if she’s yanking my chain or if she’s serious. Either way, when I literally see red, the blood I hear rushing through my ears pulsing in my vision, I know I shouldn’t have asked.
She gets the plate and sets it on the nightstand. “Ulie’s leftovers.” She starts on my ties, undoing the scarf on my wrists first, then my ankles, so I can sit on the side of the bed.
It feels good to move. I slowly swing my legs over and rub my wrists. The sheets slide down my body and I see her eyes flick to the bulge in my boxers and stick there. There’s some satisfaction when a wispy breath escapes her parted lips. She sits next to me and sifts her fingers through her hair, separating out a strand. She wraps it around her finger as she decides whether to pounce, making my already hard dick throb.
This woman owns me, pure and simple.
But then she seems to snap out of the spell, reaching for the plate.
“How long are we going to do this, Cheetah?”
She scowls and presses her finger to her lips again, less be quiet and more shut up this time.
I lower my voice. “At some point you’re going to have to decide what to do with me.”
“I have,” she says, holding out the plate. “Manicotti. It actually passes.”
“What is it, then? Turning me into the authorities, or burying me in the backyard? The way I see it, those are your only options.”
Her eyes lift to mine, full of scorn. “You’re not going to beg me to let you go? Promise you won’t say anything?”
I shake my head. “Letting me go would be foolish. You’re not a fool.”
“I’m going to tell Rob you’re here tomorrow, which means you’ll probably end up in the backyard,” she says, shoving the plate at me. “But the consolation is it’s a great view. There are worse places to spend eternity.”
I take a minute to inhale the manicotti. I’d been so preoccupied with the images of Lee with another guy that I hadn’t realized I was starving until I take the first bite. When the plate is empty, she hands me the bottle of water from the nightstand and two pills. I suck the water down with the antibiotics.
“Think about this,” I say as I hand the bottle back to her. “Rob is going to want to know why you’ve kept me here without telling him. What are you going to tell him?”
Her jaw tightens. “I’ll think of something.”
“And when he finds out the truth, do you think he’ll ever trust you again?”
Her glare cuts me in half. “He’s not going to know the truth.”
“Then you better kill me now, Cheetah, because otherwise there’s no way he’s not going to figure out that I’m in love with you.”
She barks out an incredulous laugh. “Nice try.”
I hold her gaze. “It’s true. And what’s more, you’re still in love with me too.”
Her eyes narrow before she lowers them from mine. “You expect me to believe that? You’re not even capable, Oliver.”
“That’s fair, and it would have been accurate before I met you. But you know as well as I do that things changed for both of us back in Chicago. I don’t trust anyone, but if I hadn’t trusted you, you never could have gotten near enough to my business to sabotage it. I trusted you because I loved you, and I knew you loved me.”
I lift a hand, trace the line of her jaw. “You know why I really came here.”
She closes her eyes and her breath stalls as my fingertip trails lower, down her long neck. I pause at the hollow of her throat, waiting for some cue that she wants me to keep going. When she tips her head back slightly, I glide my fingers lower, tracing the curve of her full breast. Her nipple tightens, straining against the thin cotton of her T-shirt, and I roll it between my thumb and finger.
Her head tips back farther and she leans into my hand.
My fractured rib grinds as I grab her by the hips and pull her to straddle me. My fingers continue to work her nipple as, with my other hand, I thumb her bead of ultimate pleasure through the cotton of her thong.
She rewards me with a long, low moan, setting my blood on fire. When she looks down at me, her skin is flushed and her eyes hooded. It’s her fuck-me look and it sends me over the edge.
Her panties are in shreds in my fist the next second. I toss them aside and my fingers plunge deep into her wet heat. It’s the most intense sense of needing to possess something I’ve ever experienced. She shaved herself smooth for that cocksucker, but it’s me who’s going to fuck her senseless.
She yanks my boxer-briefs over my raging hard-on and sheathes it in both fists, stroking my length. I breathe, in and out, to keep from growling. When she lifts her hips and sinks onto my cock, I can’t contain it any longer. A satisfied groan rumbles up from my chest. Her lips part as her head drops back, and her walls squeeze tight around my cock.
But the intense pleasure only lasts a second.
Before I can react, she springs off me. Her fists bunch at her sides as she cuts me with her glare.
“You bastard,” she hisses under her breath. “I’m not going to play your game.”
I lock her in my gaze. “This isn’t a game, Cheetah.”
She shakes her head hard, as if trying to dislodge something. “Everything is a game to you.”
I lunge and grab her wrist. The searing pain in my ribs as I yank her back to the bed nearly blinds me. I roll her under me and support myself on my arms, so that the only place we’re touching is where my rock-solid erection presses against the pulsing bud between her legs. “Did you fuck him?”
There’s a long pause as she glares up at me, but she doesn’t push me off. Finally, she opts for the truth. “Yes.”
My cock is still wet with her juices and I roll my hips, gliding from tip to root along her sweet spot. “And you don’t want to fuck me?”
“No.” But as she says it, her eyes flutter closed and she grinds herself harder against me.
I increase the pressure on her clit as I draw slowly back to the tip, and she hisses out her pleasure.
“So,” I say, grinding against her again, “you don’t want me to sink my cock into that dripping wet pussy.”
“No,” she breathes, arching against me.
I pull back again, keeping the pressure firm. “And if I did, you’d push me away.”
“Yes,” she gasps, spreading her legs wider and digging her heels into my ass.
I seal my mouth over hers and kiss her to her soul. I want her to feel me from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. I want her to need me like oxygen—the way I need her.
I want her to forget that asshole.
“Then I won’t fuck you,” I say, lowering more of my weight onto her and grinding my cock harder against her clit.
Her mouth opens in an O of pleasure. She grabs my ass and thrusts upward, pressing herself harder against me. I tune in to her subtle cues and go with her rhythm, giving her everything but penetration.
Her hand snakes between us and her fingers circle the root of my dick and squeeze as I grind up against her clit again. The next thrust, she turns her fingers on herself and si
nks them into her pussy. She draws her wet fingers out and strokes me, then herself again, jacking us both up and bringing us to the edge. She’s trying so hard to be quiet, but as a long mewl forces its way up her throat, she turns her head and grabs the corner of the pillow in her teeth to muffle it.
I give her every ounce of myself and she responds in kind. When she arches into me and cries out into the pillow, I give one last thrust and unload onto her stomach.
I collapse onto her and we lay like this, limbs tangled and panting, glued together by the river of cum between us. The breeze wafting through the window cools my burning skin and dries the beads of sweat rolling down my back and sides.
After a few minutes she finds her breath and whispers, “I hate you,” from underneath me.
I lift my face out of the pillow and press my forehead to hers. “Which explains the bullet hole in my chest.”
She closes her eyes and blows out a breath. “Did you come here to kill me?”
There’s a thread of desperation in her voice that gives her away. She doesn’t want it to be true.
When I don’t answer, she opens her eyes and locks me in her heated gaze.
“You are going to admit you love me, Cheetah,” I say. “And then you are going to give me the code to save my sorry ass.”
Her glare cuts me in two. I suck in a breath against the stabbing pain in my chest as she shoves me off and sits up.
She’s still glistening with sweat as she snatches a wad of tissues from the box on the nightstand and blots the cum decorating her perfect golden skin. “I’m going to let Rob kill you.”
“Wouldn’t you get more satisfaction doing it yourself?”
She scowls as she stands, then scoops up the tissues and her shredded underwear and tosses it all in the trash. I watch her drag a fresh thong from her drawer up her legs, then slip her thumbs underneath and smooth the lace. “Even if I believed it wasn’t you who holds the contract, which I don’t, I’d need to be able to convince Rob if you want to live to use that code. You’ve given me nothing.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“He. Will. Kill. You.” She flips a hand at me, all indignation. “Christ, Oliver, what about that aren’t you getting?”
“It’s possible I have something he wants.”
She gives me a suspicious squint. “What?”
“I might have some thoughts on who holds your contract.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea too,” she scoffs.
“I know for sure it wasn’t my father, and it’s not me or anyone in the inner Savoca circle.” I’ve got to tread lightly here, because she’s not going to like what I found out. “It was a power grab, Lee, plain and simple.”
She sits next to me on the bed as she contemplates that, her expression pure bewilderment. “So you’re seriously saying that this contract has nothing to do with me messing with your program?”
I lift a hand and cradle her cheek in my palm, thumbing her chin. “You really believe I’m capable of pulling the trigger on something like that?”
“You’ve given me no reason to believe you’re not.” She says it, but I can see in her eyes she’s still reeling from her orgasm. My only prayer is she’s getting something from me she can’t get anywhere else, and it’s enough for her to want to keep me alive. She pulls away from my touch and scoops my boxers off the floor, tossing them at me. “Get dressed.”
***
Lee didn’t tape my mouth today. I don’t know whether she just forgot after she got me tied back up last night, or my confession hit a nerve and she’s decided to trust me, but I’m starting to get desperate enough that I might have to break that trust.
I’ve been in Florida for ten days, the last six of them, tied to Lee’s bed. My family will know I’m not in Las Vegas by now. I overestimated my persuasion over Lee. Or maybe it’s her feelings for me that I overestimated.
She’s gone into town to pick up some things at that diner, and I hear Rob downstairs. If I were to yell, he’d be here in a second, Glock drawn.
After my romp with Lee last night, I couldn’t sleep. Part of it was the havoc it wreaked on my ribs. They throbbed all night. But more than that, it was her scent. And the heat of her body on the mattress next to me. Her breath on my neck. The tiny sounds she’s always made when she’s asleep.
The way I ached for more.
So I’m dozing off and on this morning. I’m mostly asleep when the click of the door latch startles me awake. I look up, expecting Lee.
Who I find instead is Rob.
I freeze as he moves across the room to the closet. He disappears inside, reaching for something on the shelf. When he reemerges, he’s got an open box of ammo in his hand and he’s looking over the contents. It’s not until he’s almost to the door that he glances toward the bed.
It’s the same reaction I got when Lee found me in her closet. He stops dead in his tracks, his dark eyes widening as he takes in the scene.
“We need to talk,” I say, breaking the silence.
Predictably, the next thing that happens is his piece is pointed at my face. He moves forward until the barrel is inches from my forehead.
“What the fuck is this?” he asks, his feral eyes scanning the bed.
“Your sister thought it was best to contain me while she figured out what to do with me.”
The muzzle of his gun bites hard into my skin as he jams it against my forehead. “Who else is here?”
“No one. I came alone, unarmed.” I try to shift so he and I are more eye to eye, but Lee’s got me tied too tight.
“Who else knows where we are?” he bellows, pushing my head deeper into the pillow with the muzzle of his gun.
“I’m off the reservation, Rob. This is all me.”
His eyes narrow. “You’ve always been a fucking spineless snake, Savoca. There’s no way I’m going to believe you’re alone.”
“I’ve been here for ten days. Most of that time, I’ve been tied to this bed. If I’d brought the cavalry, don’t you think they’d have torn this place up by now?”
He pulls the gun back and just looks at me. “Ten days?”
“I followed you here from Spencer Security when you came home early a week ago Tuesday morning. Lee shot me that afternoon. I’ve been tied up here since.”
He shakes his head slowly. “There’s no way.”
“Pull back the sheet,” I say with a jut of my chin.
He reaches cautiously for the edge and pulls it slowly lower, as if it might be rigged to blow. When he gets to the bandages, he stops tugging the sheet and stares.
“I have to check in, Rob. My family has no clue where I am, but they’ll be looking for me by now.”
The next second, Rob’s on me. He plants his fist into the bandages and leans his weight onto my chest. White-hot pain sears through me with the grind of my fractured rib and I cry out.
“Who else is coming for us?” he barks.
It’s a second before I can get my breath to answer. “No one.”
He leans harder onto his fist, sending another jolt through me. “Who knows you’re here?”
“No one,” I gasp.
“Good,” he says, standing and aiming his gun at my face.
I watch his finger tighten on the trigger, lambasting myself for not thinking this all the way through. I know better than this and my error has cost me everything.
A plan conceived of desperation is never going to be a good one.
Chapter 11
Lee
If I take Oliver at his word, the contract on my family coming only days after I hacked his gaming program is total coincidence. I planned it all out. It was months in the making. Everything went exactly according to plan.
Except, according to Oliver, it didn’t. He didn’t play his role. I counted on retaliation. But it wasn’t him.
Which means someone else wants us dead.
I am in so far over my head.
I’m putting my whole family in danger.
It doesn’t matter whether or not Oliver contracted the hit. It doesn’t even matter that I might love him. If I want to keep everyone alive, there’s only one thing I can do.
I drain my coffee mug and finish packing up the box of receipts and ledgers from Murdock & Son auto shop. “This is everything?” I ask Polly.
“That’s not enough?” she teases.
I hoist the box off the table. “Not if there’s more.”
“There’s not … at least that I know of. Chuck is better about keeping things straight at the shop than his dad was.” She looks down at the box as I haul it to the door. “You really want to do this?”
“You and your husband are both self-employed. You file together. I need all of it if I’m going to make sure your return is accurate.”
She nods as she opens the door for me. “All right, but if you end up buried in an avalanche of paper, make sure Adri knows I didn’t ask you to do this.”
I load the box into the trunk and pull out of the parking lot. On the way home, I dig for my phone and dial before I can chicken out.
“I hope this means you’ve worked out whatever needed working out,” Wes says when he connects.
I stiffen when I hear the hope in his voice. “It turns out I need your help with that after all. Can you come by the house tonight?”
“This sounds like business,” he says tentatively. “Have you changed your mind about staying?”
I draw a breath and slowly blow it out. “I’d rather talk about it when I see you.”
There’s a pause. “Okay. What time?”
“Does six work?” I should be able to round everyone up by then. We can pack the few things we’re allowed to take when we relocate and be ready to go with him back to Tampa.
“I’ll be there.”
I disconnect as I bump up our driveway and have the sudden sense that something is horribly wrong. I try to convince myself it’s because I’ve just turned my family upside down. Wes is coming at six. By seven, Oliver will be in custody and we’ll be gone. But as the sinking feeling in my gut intensifies with every foot closer to the house I get, I know it’s more than that.
Over the Line: On the Run Novel Page 12