by Cole, Jagger
He smirks. “Which one got his ass kicked by your boy Tyson?” He chuckles. “Today, you’re makin’ Marvis piss himself. We’ll work our way up to his daddy. Then to Tyson.”
“Then Ali?”
He grins. “Oh you don’t have a prayer in hell with Ali, kid.”
Present:
I growl as her lips press to mine. She sinks into me, and her mouth opens so sweetly and willingly. My lust for her surges. My groan rumbles in my chest. My hands slide over her hips—possessively. Demanding. Claiming.
I pull her into me. I snarl as I taste the sweetness of her moan and the softness of her plump lips. My hand slides to her ass, cupping it like it’s already fucking mine. My other hand slips up into her long blonde hair, grabbing a tangle of it in a fist.
She moans harder, and her hands press to my chest. Her fingers clench at my t-shirt, pulling me close to her. I turn us, pressing her to the bike. She whimpers as her ass slides back on the seat, sideways. Her smooth, toned, tanned legs spread.
I kiss her hungrily, and then move my mouth to her neck. It’s like she’s set fire to me inside. I feel as if she’s floored a gas pedal on me, and I don’t come with brakes.
I snarl into her neck, licking and sucking at her collarbone. She moans, pressing her hips against me. Her chest rises, and I can feel the pebbled hardness of her nipples against me. My cock surges, thickening to stone in my jeans.
I want her. I want her right here, and right now—more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my entire fucking life. I want to bend her over this bike, yank those cutoffs down to her knees and fuck her like a savage. I want to pound into her like a beast until she’s dripping down my legs.
My hands push under her t-shirt. My fingers trace and tease over bare, smooth, soft, warm skin. They dance over the edge of her shorts. I can feel the briefest tease of lace from her panties. I groan, wanting to devour her.
Fingers move to the front of her jeans. Her breath catches sharply. Her stomach caves and tightens under my touch. Her hands grip me tighter, like she’s urging me on. My lips move back to hers, and I kiss her deeply as I start to open up her shorts.
And then my goddamn phone rings. Fuck.
I want to throw it as far from me as I can. But I know the ringtone, and I know who it is. With a low groan, I pull away from her and grit my teeth. Her cheeks burn hotly. Her eyes are wide as her hand flies to her lips, like she’s in shock we just did that.
Hell, so am I.
“I—” I frown and yank the phone out of my pocket. I glance down and grumble. Yeah, it’s Lev. “I have to take this.”
“Oh, yeah…no, of course,” she mumbles through a bright red blush.
I turn, pounding the answer button with my thumb and bringing it to my ear.
“Lev, what’s—”
“Did you take something?” he snaps.
I frown. “Uh…”
“From the hotel. From Yevgeny’s room?”
My brow furrows deeper. “What?”
“Did you take something!?”
I glance back at Belle. “What are you talking about?”
My older brother sighs. “I’m not sure, actually. Look, this is information you cannot share. But we’ve got a source inside the Volkov chain of command. It’s how we knew Yevgeny would be there today.”
“And?”
“There’s a lot of chatter, man. About you.”
I groan, wincing. “Shit. Look, I left a fucking mess, but no one saw me…” I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth. Goddamnit. Champagne, the hooker.
“It’s not about the hit, Niko,” Lev grunts. “Well, not yet, at least. Not according to our source.”
My brow knits. “So why the fuck are they talking about me—”
“Because apparently you were spotted leaving The Drake with something of theirs. An ‘asset’ it’s being called internally. A really important one.”
My heart thuds. I slowly glance over my shoulder. The girl is leaning against my bike, hugging herself. Her gorgeous blonde hair blows in the breeze. Her lip is caught between her teeth as she stares at the horizon. I frown.
“What kind of asset,” I growl quietly.
“No fucking clue. What’d you take?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Hard drive or some shit?”
“No.”
Lev sighs. “Well, they’re pissed, which means it’s worth a lot to them.”
My eyes narrow at the girl—the girl who’s apparently a Volkov fucking asset.
“Look, it’s a matter of time before they put the pieces together and pin the hit on you. But for now, they’re after you because of whatever you took.” Lev sighs heavily. “Where are you?”
“On the way to the cabin.”
“Good. Get there. Stay low and out of sight. And ditch whatever the fuck you took.”
“Lev—”
“Whatever it is, it’s not worth it. That’s heat you do not need right now. Lose it and stay out of sight. Because you’re about to have hell chasing you down.”
I turn to look at her again. My jaw sets. Lev’s right, I should lose her—the asset. I mean it’s not like I need to ditch her on the side of the fucking road. But the next town, or the next rest stop. I could maybe call her a fucking cab or something.
My look hardens. The memory of the kiss, and the taste of her lips sears through my head. She looks so gorgeous standing there against the bike—innocent, lost. Even from here, I can see her lips are swollen from mine.
I grit my teeth. I think of the commotion before at the hotel, and how scared she looked. Yeah, she might be crazy. Or more trouble than I even know how to process. I mean fuck me, Lev just flat out told me half the goddamn Volkov family is after her—and me, by proxy.
“I’ll call you later with a fresh phone, Lev.”
“Niko—!”
I hang up and turn off the phone.
What am I doing? I’m staring at her, and I know exactly what I need to do. But for some reason, I can’t. I’ve killed people—lots of people. In Afghanistan, and then back here in, working for the Kashenko family. I’ve never once flinched from any part of my job.
But she’s making me flinch now.
The girl looks at me as I walk back over. “Everything ok—”
“Fine. Hop on.”
She frowns at my abrupt tone. Which I’m aware is even more jarring after the fact that we just kissed. But it is what it is. We need to get moving. And by the next gas station, I need to figure this shit out.
When her arms are back around my waist, I start the bike and take us back onto the road. We roar down the highway—mile after mile. The whole time, I’m trying to ignore the heat of her chest against my back. I’m trying to forget the sweet taste of her lips, or the way her scent made me rock-hard.
I do a pretty shitty job at doing any of that.
The sun is drooping in the sky as I finally pull us into a neon-lit gas station with one of those “travel-mart” things attached to it. I’m actually fine on gas, but I do need a new burner phone. I park around the side of the mini-mart and turn the bike off. The girl gets off, then me. I start to head in.
“Can you get me a water?”
I pause and glance back. She’s just standing there, leaning against the bike. My brows knit.
“You wanna just come in with me?”
“I…” she frowns. “I can’t.”
My brow arches. “What?”
“I can’t go in there.”
I smile curiously with my brow still arched. “Why not?”
“Because?”
I shake my head with a frown. “What do you mean, because?”
The girl looks at me curiously. “Because photos? Paparazzi? People freaking out about me?”
Wow. My brows arch sharply. The corners of my lips curl into a smile as I slowly shake my head.
“Wow, you’re…” I shake my head with a bewildered chuckle. “Didn’t know I picked up a member of the royal fucking fam
ily.”
She stares back at me, her brows furrows. “Do you…” she peers at me. “Do you really not know who I am?”
I roar with laughter. “Oh, I do. You’re an entitled little princess.”
Her eyes narrow at me. “Listen, asshole—”
“Nah, I’m good.”
I turn, muttering “brat” under my breath as I walk into the mini-mart. The memory of that kiss is still on replay. But it’s quickly souring. I shake my head as I snag a few things off the shelves. Is this girl for real? I roll my eyes. Volkov asset? She’s probably some Bratva fucking princess—some captain’s bratty little trust-fund, private school kid.
Great. And I just fucking drove off with her after pulling a seven-count assassination on their guys. Fucking fantastic. I stomp up to the counter and nod at the cashier.
“Hey man, can I grab one of those prepaid phones—” My gaze shifts past him out the window behind him. Fuck. I drop my shit, and I bolt out the door.
There are two of them—two guys absolutely fawning all over the girl. At first, I think they’re trying to fucking kiss her or some shit. But as I charge around the corner, I realize they’re trying to take a fucking selfie with her.
“Please! Stop it! No! I said no!”
“C’mon! Please!” One of them is laughing as she tries to hide her face and get away. “Just one shot!”
“Hey,” the other guy jeers. “Is it true you’re seriously about to release nudes!? That’s so fucking hot.”
“Dude, our fraternity is gonna lose their shit that we ran into you—!”
That’s when I run into them, like a truck. I hit the first guy dead in the chest with my shoulder. He groans as he goes flipping back over my bike to land on his ass. I whirl on the bewildered second guy. He makes a move, but I’m way faster. My fist smashes his nose, sending blood flowing down his chin as he drops to his knees and then onto his side. He’s breathing, but he’s out.
The first guy staggers to his feet, staring at me in horror and shock.
“Dude! What the fuck!”
I snarl like a beast and raise my fist. The guy looks like he’s about to piss himself as he lurches to his bewildered friend. He helps the other guy stagger to his feet. The two of them stare at me, and then at her.
“Fucking psycho cunt!” The first guy blubbers. I snarl, but the two of them turn and scurry across the parking lot and into a douchebag looking Jeep. When they roar out, I whirl on her.
“I—I was just standing here!” she blurts. She’s shaken. “They just… I mean what the fuck?”
“Come with me.”
I grab her and effortlessly pick her up to place her on the bike. She doesn’t say a word as I swing my leg over and settle onto it in front of her. I’m about to start the engine when I feel her lean close to me.
“Where are we—”
“Away.”
I start the engine. The bike purrs to life under us, and I feel her arms slide around to hold me tight. My jaw grinds as my eyes narrow.
I should leave her. This girl is nothing but fucking trouble. She might be insane, or the goddamn daughter of a Volkov captain. She could be a giant fucking target lighting up my back.
And yet somehow, I don’t care. I don’t give a shit. Because like it or not, I took her. I kissed her. I had a taste.
And now, I want the rest.
The bike thunders as I rev us out of the neon parking lot, and out onto the dark highway. Come what may.
5
Belle
Four Years Ago:
“Look, I’m just saying, I think it’s worth considering.”
Jim sits back in his big leather chair. He laces his hands behind his head and grins that overly-white smile at me.
Beside me, my aunt wrinkles her nose. “She’s a little young, Jim. Don’t you think?”
“She’s fourteen, Celine.”
“Uh, yeah?”
My agent spreads his arms wide. “Well, in Tinsel-Town, that’s basically twenty-two these days.” He chuckles at his own joke, as he does a lot. Then he leans forward and steeples his hands. “Look, brass tacks. You’re right. I know it seems like she’s too young for the part—”
“Of a high school stripper?” My aunt makes a sour face. She turns to me. “Honey, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be the prude here. It’s just…” She sighs. “It’s your career, honey. And I’m not here to shove you into or away from anything you want to do. Just, think this one through.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Jim butts in. “Definitely think it through. Think about how much it’s gonna totally jump start that next phase of Belle Bardot we were talking about.”
“You mean the ‘sexy me’ thing,” I mumble awkwardly.
“Well, yeah, that,” Jim shrugs. He glances at my aunt. “Celine, don’t look at me like that. I’m not pushing this for me. I’m pushing this because this is how she segues from child star to mainstream actress. It’s gonna take ‘dirty’ roles like this, trust me.”
My eyes scan the script notes and treatment in my hands. My stomach sours. “There’s like full-on stripping and sex scenes in this, Jim.”
He shrugs. “Look, for the real steamy stuff, we’ll negotiate for a body double.”
“Oh you think?” Celine snaps tersely. “She is fourteen, Jim!”
He sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Celine, I love ya, but all due respect, maybe this meeting should just be me and Belle—”
“No, I think I’d like her here,” I say quietly but firmly. I turn to smile wryly at my aunt. “What do you think?”
She shakes her head. “It isn’t my call, honey. It really isn’t. This is your career. This is what you’ve worked your fanny off for. This is your dream.”
My jaw sets. She’s right. This is my dream. It’s always been my dream to do what I love, which is acting. My brow knits. My dream has never involved pole dancing on camera before I’m old enough to go to prom, though.
“Sorry, Jim,” I shake my head.
He groans. “C’mon, Belle, honey, take it home and think—”
“The answer is no, Jim. Really. I’m not doing this. I can’t do this.”
He sighs heavily. “I think you’re making a mistake.”
I shrug.
“Look, just because your mom did those porn flicks, doesn’t mean you can’t show a little—”
“That’s enough!!” My aunt snaps furiously, lunging to her feet. She closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath. Then she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, honey. He’s right. I shouldn’t be in this meeting.” She turns to me. “You do what you think is best. I’ll be outside, ready to support whatever you want to do, okay?” She smiles. Then she glares at Jim, turns, and storms out of the big glass office.
My agent sighs and turns back to me. I can see the hopeful glimmer in his eye.
“It’s a killer part, Belle. It’ll change the way everyone sees you—”
“The answer is no.”
Before he can fight me on it, I stand, turn, and march out of the room. When I find my aunt in the lobby of the agency, she glances up at me.
“Well?”
I shake my head.
She grins, but then hides it. “This has to be your decision, honey. Don’t say no just because your aunt’s an old prude—”
“I’m saying no because that isn’t me, Aunt Celine.”
She smiles. “You’re an actor, honey. You can be whatever you want to be.”
“Well, someone once told me that the whole point was to have fun. And that?” I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “That does not sound like fun.”
She grins. “Well, I don’t know. All those fun costumes? You’d probably get to take some really interesting dance lessons—”
“You know, if you’re interested, I have it on authority that the part is still vacant.”
She laughs loudly and pulls me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Your mom would be, too.”
She pulls back and sighs as
she looks me in the eye. “You can ‘grow up fast’ later, Belle. Don’t rush through being a kid, honey. It’s the best part.”
I grin.
“Hey, wanna go get some ice-cream down at the pier like we used to when we first moved out here?”
I make a face. “Yeah, but I can’t.” I scowl. “They’ve still got me on that diet for the summer camp movie.”
Celine nods. “Right, sorry. Forgot about that. Well, we can just go home instead—”
“Maybe half a scoop won’t hurt.”
She grins. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Deal.”
Present:
The sun is setting behind the pines. Wind whips at my hair and my t-shirt, and I press my face against his strong, powerful back. I can smell the leather of his jacket and the masculine smell of him. My arms tighten around his muscled sides, and my hands can’t help but find a place against his grooved abs.
The bike throbs between my legs. The wind teases my skin. And the thrill of him sends heat pooling through my core.
I can’t believe that just happened.
Any of it. All of today, actually. But specifically, what happened on the side of the road back there. I feel my face blush. I feel my core tighten, and I grip him even tighter as I bite my lip.
I would’ve let him have whatever he wanted.
I know that. I know that like it’s a part of who I am. It scares the hell out of me, too. I’m eighteen and I’ve been in Hollywood since I was seven. Show business, and Hollywood in particular makes kids grow up fast—usually not for the better. When you’re young and you’ve got fame, and money, and everyone around you is telling you how hot and sexy you are, things move fast.
Most of the kids I know from the industry—guys and girls alike—started young. Too young. But the allure of being young and hot and on the arm of someone older, and famous, and whose posters were up in your bedroom as a kid is too much to say no to for most people.
In a sense, I got lucky that I’ve been “dating” Daniel as long as I have been. It unofficially “took me off the market” so to speak. I mean, sure, believe me that I had a thousand creepy, gross offers—even from famous guys that would shock most people, given how old I was when those offers came.