by Cynthia Dane
“I’ve learned a lot from The Aviary. I’ve learned things I didn’t even know about myself. But I think you and I both know I didn’t go into it with you because it was a calling, or because I thought it would be an exciting adventure. I went because I wanted to please you. When you asked me to dinner all those months ago, I was the happiest girl in the world. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that you’re one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, and you’re a bachelor your whole life for a reason. It’s because you’re not meant to have one woman for the rest of your life, let alone at a moment. I know about you and Ms. Hawk. I also know about the woman in New Delhi and the twins in Paris.
“None of that ever bothered me. I never had any delusions that I would one day be Mrs. Tasha Crow. But I still wasn’t happy. You pushed me to do things I wasn’t comfortable with, but I did them because I wanted to hold onto the idea of us being more serious. Now I realize I was a pretty girl who worked in your chain of command. I caught your fancy. You had visions of me bent over and spanked, and with your power and money knew you could make all of that a reality with a snap of your fingers. Don’t worry. I feel plenty stupid. I may be intelligent, but I am very stupid in other realms of the world.
“So not only am I resigning from Black Raven Pharmaceuticals, but I am also parting ways with you - personally. I hope that you can find someone to make you truly happy, Xavier. If that’s multiple people… well, that’s okay too. I don’t regret my time with you, but I do wish I had caught on to my real needs sooner.”
Nala didn’t bother to read the response from Crow. She was too busy staring at the paper, digesting her sister’s words. Probably some of the final words she ever wrote, judging from the timestamp. Tasha looked that miserable and she still considers it unregrettable? That didn’t seem right. Just like it didn’t seem right that Tasha would willingly go out with a man like Xavier Crow!
Oh, who was Nala kidding? Tasha was a romantic like most women. She dreamed of meeting the perfect guy and having him sweep her off her feet. Apparently she didn’t care if that man was over fifty - as long as he had the charm and the funds. Love could be blind, and so was Tasha’s ability to see the danger in front of her.
Why did it have to be Tasha? How was it possible that her own smarts brought about her demise? If she had never been that smart, then she would have never advanced that quickly up the ranks at Black Raven, let alone get a job there. Sure, some other danger may have come from somewhere else… but what did it matter? Nala needed to stop thinking about this crap.
Especially since it had the power to make her cry.
While she managed to hold in most of the tears, she still sniffed a little, causing Vincent to look up from his phone and in her direction. When he asked what was wrong, Nala put the emails aside and stood. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announced. “I need to clear my mind.”
The bathroom was one of the only places she could be alone. Not that she didn’t want to be around Vincent, but sometimes a girl needed privacy, even if they were in mortal danger. Taking her phone into the bathroom and pretending to have stomach problems or taking showers that lasted a lifetime helped her regroup upstairs.
Until that day, Vincent respected her requests for privacy. He would occasionally ask if she was okay, but beyond that, he let her do her thing until she was ready to rejoin him wherever they stayed. Until that day. That day, Vincent came into the unlocked bathroom five minutes after Nala started her shower, when she stood naked against the wall and let the hot water drip down her breasts and speckle her legs.
She said nothing as he undressed and pulled back the shower door. Haven’t seen him this naked in a while. Her eyes went straight to his chest, then his groin. Good to know I’m still alive even after all the shit. Thinking that meant one of the first things Vincent saw was a smile cracking on her face.
“Hope you don’t mind if I crash your naked party,” he said, stepping in and only flinching a little when the hot water hit his unsuspecting skin. “As it so happens, I need to take a shower too. Why waste the extra water when we could take one together?”
“Why, Mr. Lane, we don’t shower together often.”
“We should change that. You look great naked. And wet. I’d love to see you naked more often. And wet.”
Nala laughed, the water droplets covering his shoulders, his arms, and his chest. She wouldn’t mention where it was dripping from. “I don’t mind seeing you naked either.”
He came closer, which was a feat in a standard-sized shower. Nala pressed against the wall, not going to him, but also not declining his advances. Make love to me, jerk. Make me forget everything again. “Look at that. We’re both naked in the shower. Who would have ever thought?”
Nala tilted her head back. “Cut the crap, Vincent. Make love to me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
His kisses started as tender caresses to her face, and then he pushed against her, his strong, naked body taking over her existence and blocking her in a world where everything was peachy and fine. Nobody got hurt. Nobody was in danger. It was only Nala and her boyfriend, the man she loved more than anyone else she wanted to think about.
It felt oddly safe in their hideaway. Their shower was warm, but their bodies were warmer. All Nala wanted was to feel him around her, above her, beneath her, and inside her. She was rewarded with that latter request when Vincent lifted her off the ground and pulled her legs around his waist. With the wall propping her up from behind, it was easy enough to let him fuck her without a care in the world.
That’s not true. I care. She cared a lot. About him. About her. About their possible future together.
What would they do when it came to it? When Crow was gone? When justice was served and their thirst for vengeance quenched? Would they really keep being a couple? Or would the real world come crashing down on them?
Nala only thought of these things briefly while they made love, if it could be called that. Making love in the shower wasn’t easy no matter who a person was. It didn’t matter that Vincent could easily lift her off the ground and make her his. There was the water, a blessing and a curse. There was her, nearly fighting him every step of the way even though she desperately wanted him inside of her. Then there was his need to kiss her while he thrust into her, which brought her up closer to his mouth while he pulled her down below. Holy shit, man, I’m still human!
Nevertheless, being taken to a place of ecstasy was most welcomed, even in that hotel shower. When Nala began to climax, holding on to him tight with both arms and hips, she fantasized about a world where she didn’t have to fantasize at all. Because everything would be as it should be. She could live in the moment. She could bask in the love emanating from both of their bodies.
Suffice to say, neither of them got very clean that night.
“That was worth every sore muscle I’m going to have tomorrow,” Vincent said with a satisfied sigh as he climbed into bed later. He brought Nala into his hold, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ve missed you like that. I’ve missed you in a lot of ways.”
“Unfortunately there aren’t a lot of opportunities for a lot of kinky sex when we’re on the run.”
“No, but… this is nice too.”
Nala sat up, rubbing her hand against his bare chest. Good skies above, have I ever missed this. It was a wonder she was able to speak instead of placing her lips all over his body. If stuff like this kept up, she would be forgetting all about the shit going on outside of the hotel room. That could be as equally dangerous, however.
“Don’t tell me, Mr. Lane,” Nala said, looming over him. “You’re getting antsy for something a bit more in line with your predilections.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I like vanilla sex as much as the next man.”
“Of course you do, but you’re Vincent Lane. You also like spanking my ass and tying me up in elaborate designs.”
“Would I ever deny it?”
“I hope not.”
He gripped her tightly, his strong hands leaving their marks all over her skin. Thank you, sir. I haven’t felt properly owned and used by you in a good while. If there was one nice thing she could say about that week of hotel hopping in Portland, it was that it got such needs out of her system for a while, but they were back now, demanding Vincent to flip her over and show her what she really was. Turned out that kinky role-play scenarios were her favorite form of escapism. Some women read books. Others played fantastical video games. Nala Nazarov? She pretended to be a sex demon in need of capture and taming.
Or maybe it was Nightingale who was those things.
“Let’s be real, Vincent. We’re always going to be on edge unless we can purge those negative thoughts and feelings from our bodies. We both know how we do that.” She didn’t wait for his reaction. “We’re going through some heavy shit right now. Things are going to come to a head. We’re going to need to be as clear-headed as possible for what lies ahead of us.”
“What are you trying to get at, exactly?”
“I’m saying that I think we should take a little time - maybe one night - to be as wild as fucking possible. You know it would be good for the both of us. This vanilla stuff is good for the day, maybe two days, but regardless of what we’re up against, we need to take ourselves as far as we can go and fucking own it.”
“My darling.” Vincent grinned, his fingers combing through her hair as they loved to do. “I dare say that you and I make a great pair.”
“It’s because I can sense all this tension in your body.” Nala rubbed his stomach. It was warm, yes, but it was also fraught with the terrible things he always thought about, tucked deep inside his gut and threatening to come forth at the most inopportune moment. “It’s not good for you. Not right now, not ever. It’s not good for me either. I want to spoil you, Vincent. I also want you to spoil me. We need that spoiling before we leave this city and do whatever needs to be done next.”
“You don’t have to keep making a case to me. I’m fully on board.”
“We’ll start by getting this shit out of sight.” Nala climbed out of his embrace and off the bed. Naked, she crossed the room, picking up the emails strewn across a table and tucking them back into their folder. She made sure to put her sister’s emails on the bottom. “Unless it’s absolutely necessary, we are not to look at any of these things. Agree?”
Vincent rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm. “Agree. I won’t look at them if you won’t look at them. We should try to forget about them… until the time is right.”
“Yes. Until the time is right to use them to fuel our rage.”
Vincent took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“All right.” Nala tucked the folder deep into the back of her backpack, padded with spare changes of clothes. “That’s done. You keep doing your research, Mr. Lane. After all, we need to finish our mission eventually. In the meantime, I will do some research of my own.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m going to come up with the perfect role-play scenario.” Nala ambled back to the bed, sure to sway her hips and let her hair flow free all around her nubile body - a body Vincent never once stopped staring at. Nala didn’t doubt that beneath those covers Mr. Lane was starting to stir again. Maybe it was time for a preview. Was there anything he could use to tie her up with in here? “You and me, sir. We’re going to use all this crazy energy to fuel the wildest sex either of us has ever had. Cosmos willing, it will clear our heads enough to let us focus on the bigger picture. Right now, we need to focus on us.”
Vincent grinned, extending a hand to draw Nala back into bed. “Living fast. Living loose. You’re a terrible influence on me, darling.”
She was more than happy to crawl into bed next to him, feeling his arms wrap tight around her as she sank deep into his embrace again. His skin feels perfect against mine. Even if they didn’t make love again that night, it would still be the best day they had in a long while. “Believe it or not, I’m doing what I think is best for you, sir.”
“I love it when you talk dirty.”
“If you think that’s dirty, then you have no idea what’s already stirring in my mind.”
“Oh, I have a good idea.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“I’m looking forward to finding out, then. Just know that we don’t have much time. I’m planning on driving down to California soon. I’ve contacted a few lawyers I know there who may be able to actually help us. Not to mention… I have a few buddies from college down in Silicon Valley who owe me a few favors.”
Yeah, yeah. Nala wasn’t thinking about that. Her mind was far, far beyond, already planning the best way for her to be useful. She may not be able to hack into servers, or have connections all over the west coast, or a billion dollars at her disposal, but she understood Vincent and his… needs. Nala was going to concoct the perfect scenario for them to enact. It would let her purge her brash mind. It would let him purge his mounting anger. Because Nala could feel it in every flexing muscle. Vincent might smile, he might crack jokes right now, and he may bask in the afterglow of sex, but inside he was a ticking time bomb with a very low counter. It was only a matter of time before he exploded and ruined every chance of seeing the justice he so desperately needed.
Nala knew how to curb that. She also knew how to save herself in the process. It’s kinda scary. If her plan worked, they would both come out the other side very different people - and even closer to one another. How did one embrace such a possibility?
With an open heart and an even more open mind. Not only would Nala need both, but Vincent would as well. This will either kill us or make us stronger. She didn’t know if she referred to the role-play or finally taking down Xavier Crow any way possible.
***
Nala went back to the convenience store and purchased a notebook. She stole pens from the hotel rooms they used. In this notebook, she copied down pertinent information she researched on her phone and wrote out drafts of a script for her and Vincent to follow. Meanwhile, her boyfriend kept to his phone, whether to do his own research or make a slew of phone calls to people all over the country. Perhaps the world.
She listened closely to him while writing her script. Particularly, she listened to his intonations and the words he used depending on who he was talking to. He called Lucian every day, either reassuring the frayed man or instilling a fear of God into him. Apparently, he was their #1 ally in Portland, for as much as that meant. That didn’t mean a damn fucking thing to Nala. Lucian would do whatever he thought was safest for him and Robin. Or were they calling her Clara now?
Why was she listening so closely? Nala didn’t care about the contents of his conversations. She cared about how they made her feel, on the most carnal level. Which words did her in? Which ones could be twisted in delightfully dirty ways? Ooh, I like it when he sounds a little sinister. That came out when he spoke to lawyers, none of whom would commit to helping Vincent and Nala take down a multi-billionaire with a shitton of connections.
Of course, doing this sent her deeper into her research. Thank goodness, because she was tired of obsessing over the terrible shit going on in the background of her life. Nala didn’t need constant reminders that a powerful man out there wanted her dead. Nor did she want reminders that people she loved were dead or in danger in the hospital. Nor did she want to feel that creeping paranoia whenever she thought of other members of The Aviary. At that rate, she would be bothering Vincent to fire Andrew before he turned out to be an agent of Crow too!
No, she was perfectly happy to escape into her world of… what? Erotic fantasies? On one hand, Nala researched and wrote some of the darkest shit she ever braved. On the other, it was a welcomed reprieve from the realities around her. There would be plenty of time to take stock of what was happening in the world beyond her mind. This week did not have to be one of them.
Every once in a while Vincent asked her how it was coming along and if she would be done anytime s
oon. Nala would brush him off, and he would go back to doing what he did best - getting them into more trouble he would consequently have to get them out of again. This time it’s me getting us into trouble. She wanted to laugh, but the reality was they very well could get into some trouble with what she had planned. The more her script came together? The more she started looking at Vincent through new eyes.
Would he do it? Or would he take a look at her dark words, dark dialogue, and darker actions and run far away from her? Men think we’re such delicate creatures. Whether or not they built that world for themselves was not part of Nala’s internal debate. Plus, even though Vincent often saw her tough side, he probably still saw her as a fragile waif in need of his eternal protection. The moment he read this script once she was done with it? Who knew if that would change… if he would see her in a new, albeit dark, light.
I wouldn’t be writing it this way if I didn’t know he had it in him too. Nala had felt the possessive power of the way he made love to her. She knew how he could make her hate the simple act of walking for a day. He often said it himself: he could turn into more beast than man. The more Nala thought about that, the easier it became to slip into her day-long fantasies and fill her cheap notebook with the twisted shit she cooked in her brain.
One otherwise quiet day - after they had switched hotels for the sixth time since coming to Seattle - Vincent received a check from Lucian made out to one of the fake names. Nala only saw a glimpse of the amount, but it made her eyebrows go up. What a world it was when a billionaire couldn’t risk withdrawing money from his own account and had to have a rich friend forward him some cash to be paid back later. Nala waited for some downtime in both of their work to go up to her boyfriend and ask for a hundred dollars. Two, if he could spare it.
“What do you need that much money for?” Vincent asked. “We don’t need anything.”
She still put her hand out expectantly. “I need supplies for this thing I’m working on. Trust me. You’ll love it.”