Lawless

by Sam Crescent

“Fuck.”

  He couldn’t remember if he had an umbrella in his trunk. He slicked back his hair and checked his teeth. Oh, well, it wasn’t as if they were going out tonight. His fingertips tingled and his dick responded with a pleasant ache which reached his toes. He couldn’t wait to have Grace beneath him, moaning, screaming out his name in the throes of passion.

  Part two of his plan was about to begin: Fuck her.

  Colt checked for his gun and quickly did a run-through of the perimeter. He reached for the door handle and stopped. Something wasn’t right. The hairs on the back of his neck stood. He glanced at the rear view mirror again. There. One of the hotel’s doors had opened and two people were running to a car. Hands tied and mouth covered, one of them struggled and the other pulled. His blood turned to ice as he recognized them. Misha, another hitman he’d met years ago, and Grace.

  “Motherfucker.”

  Drawing his gun, Colt stepped out of the car as quietly as possible. Crouching behind his vehicle, he assessed the situation. A head shot would kill Misha instantly, but the pair was moving too much and considering the pelting rain blurring his vision, he was too far to try. He didn’t want to risk hitting Grace.

  He’d have to engage in hand-to-hand combat or at least get close enough so he could shoot his colleague without hurting Grace. Fuck. He hurried behind the line of cars, getting closer to the pair. Misha was an idiot. If he was trying to kidnap the girl, he should have drugged her or knocked her unconscious. He was drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Suddenly, the sound of a slap echoed around him. He cringed. Then, his blood boiled. He peeked at the pair. Misha pushed Grace in front of him. She no longer fought back.

  Colt cocked his gun. Misha had his back to him and he was close enough that he wouldn’t miss.

  The bullet sped through the air and into Misha’s thigh. The man tumbled to the ground, crying out in pain. Grace fell with him, her knees hitting the asphalt hard. Colt ran and kicked Misha in the gut, forcing him back to the ground and away from her.

  “What the hell?” the beefy bastard roared.

  Cold placed the heel of his boot on the gun wound. Misha yelled. His eyes watered and his face turned ashen.

  “What do you want, man?”

  Colt took in the man before him. The fact he knew him, had once worked with him side by side, didn’t matter. He became another number. A hit. A skeleton covered with skin and bones.

  He fired.

  Droplets of blood flew in every direction as Misha toppled over. Life drained out of him in a split second.

  The muffled sob of the girl beside him made Colt spin around. Grace hadn’t moved. Either because she was too hurt or too scared, he didn’t know. Grabbing her by the forearm, he pulled her to her feet.

  Fury unlike anything he’d felt in years slammed into him at the sight of the ugly redness over part of her eye and cheekbone.

  “Are you okay?”

  He removed the duct tape from Grace’s mouth and untied her wrists, trying to control the tremble in his own hands. Colt might be a killer, but he had morals. Or at least he had one rule: don’t hurt women and children. Clearly, Misha hadn’t followed the same premise.

  Finally, the coarse rope came lose.

  “Grace—“

  She fell into his arms, burying her face in his chest and weeping. Colt froze. This had never happened before. Women didn’t come to him for solace. They found him for sex or because they wanted to kill their husbands, but not because they needed comforting. He placed his arms around her and caressed her back. She was soft, warm, alive. Different from the corpse at their side.

  “Hush, angel. It’s all right now, but we have to get out of here.”

  “What?” She glanced up at him, eyes red rimmed, pupils dilated. “Shouldn’t we call the police?” Her voice cracked. Colt grasped her chin and tilted her head back.

  “Listen to me, angel, the police aren’t going to do anything. They’ve been bought off. We need to go now.” Taking her by the hand, he led her to his car. “Get in.”

  Luckily, she obeyed immediately. Colt shut the door and jumped into the driver’s seat. He revved up the motor and sped away from the scene. Dear God, he hoped there were no cameras or he’d be in deep shit. And all for what? For a woman. One he hardly knew anything about, except he’d killed her father and now they’d tried to dispose of her. Who? His boss? Why?

  “Fuck.”

  He slammed his fist on the wheel. Out of the corner of his eyes he glanced at Grace. She stared at the road ahead, unblinking, her hands on her lap tightly wound together.

  “Jesus.” He touched her knee. “Grace.” He called her name again. Finally, she shook her head and looked at him.

  “I thought you said you were a businessman, a salesman.”

  Colt sighed.

  “But you killed that man,” she said softly.

  “It was either you or him, Grace.”

  “No. That’s not what he said.”

  Colt glanced at her. She looked straight ahead.

  “What did he say, angel?”

  She covered her face with her hands.

  “I can’t.”

  Colt squeezed her knee.

  “It’s all right, angel, you’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you. I’ll kill them first. I promise.”

  Grace remained silent. After a while, he noticed she had nodded off. He smiled. Warmth spread through his limbs. She had to feel safe with him or she wouldn’t have fallen asleep.

  He continued driving until he reached the countryside. Tall trees lined the road on both sides. Colt took a left, down an unmarked dirt road. He heard the rustle of Grace’s clothes, and felt her sit up.

  “Where are we going?” Grace whispered.

  “Somewhere safe.”

  Chapter Five

  After a good thirty minutes, they arrived at their destination. He parked his vehicle next to the other two he owned and stopped the engine.

  “Wait.”

  He went to her side of the car and opened the door. Taking her hand, he helped her out. To his relief, her grip was once again firm and her eyes had lost their panicky appearance.

  “What is this place?”

  “My home.”

  Colt led her to the cabin. They climbed the stairs to the porch and into the house. He punched the code to deactivate the alarm and then switched on the lights. Grace hadn’t moved from the doorstep.

  “You live here?”

  Colt turned around. He tried to visualize how his home would appear to a visitor. Whitewashed walls. Dark furniture. Everything in place. No pictures, no flowers, no clutter. No touches which made a house a home. For the first time, it made him uncomfortable. He wanted to offer Grace more, but he didn’t have it. He shrugged.

  “I come here occasionally,” he said.

  Grace scrunched up her nose, but didn’t comment further. Colt moved to the open concept kitchen. Even here, the appearance was the same. Black marble countertops. Steel chrome appliances. No dirty dishes. No leftover crumbs.

  “Would you like something to drink? Water? Coke? Beer? Maybe wine or whiskey?”

  Grace stood behind the island, clutching her stomach. She bit her lip.

  “Water, please.”

  Colt grabbed a beer for himself and filled a glass for Grace. He handed it to her.

  “Thanks.”

  She leaned her hip against the counter and took a sip. She closed her eyes briefly, a wrinkle of what he assumed was pain marking her forehead. Colt took a gulp of his drink. They had better put some ice on that bruise before it got worse. His gaze traveled over her, for the first time taking in her appearance. She had dressed to impress. The fitted red dress she wore reached slightly above her knees and accentuated every one of her curves. His cock twitched. He dipped lower. His mouth dried, bringing back the events of a few hours ago. Her knees were scraped and bloodied, and now that he looked more carefully, her clothes were torn and stained, too. Colt sighed.

  “We n
eed to get you out of your clothes.”

  “What?” Grace set the empty glass on the counter.

  “As much as I want to undress you and fuck you, angel, I’m only saying this because you’ve stained that sexy dress.”

  She glanced at her clothes.

  “Also your knees are scraped, your lip is bleeding, and either we get some ice on your eye or you won’t be able to open it,” he continued. “Sit down.” He headed for the fridge and pulled out some ice cubes. Wrapping them in a kitchen towel, he handed it to her.

  “Hold it to your eye.”

  Grabbing another cloth, Colt dipped it in water. He came to stand in front of Grace. His breath caught. Gone was the beautiful smile he’d fallen for in that picture on her father’s desk. The eyes were no longer dancing with life and joy, instead, what he saw, both scared the shit out of him and compelled him to get closer.

  Trust.

  “Don’t move.” His voice came out huskier than normal and he cleared it. Then, he dabbed Grace’s lip. The cut was small. Fortunately, Misha hadn’t done too much harm. He couldn't figure out what he wanted with her. Misha was an expert in beatings. He hurt people until they were within an inch of their life, then left them. It was an easy way to convince someone to do something or other. Why Grace? Did her brother need more persuading even after the murder of their father? He touched her lip again, Grace’s sharp intake of breath loud in his ears. His cock jumped.

  “Did I hurt you?

  “No.”

  Gently, he pressed his mouth to hers.

  “Now?”

  She shook her head, all the while still holding the ice pack to her face, squeezing it so tightly her knuckles were white.

  Colt wet the cloth again and returned to her side. He kneeled before her, making a show of removing her shoes. Next, he took his time lifting her skirt, revealing inch by inch her milky white, tantalizing skin. With every bit he pulled back, his cock grew harder until it throbbed with unyielding desire.

  Wrapping his hand around her thigh, he marveled at the contrast. His hands were tanned, gruff. Her flesh was soft, malleable. Colt ran his fingertip over the material of her stocking. Deftly, he unclipped the garters and, hooking his fingers over the tights, he slowly rolled off one, then the other.

  He glanced at Grace. Her compelling eyes trailed his every movement and a delicious flush crept from her cheeks downward.

  “I’m going to wash your knees now.”

  “Okay.”

  Keeping his hand around her leg, Colt cleaned one knee and then the other. There was more blood than actual injury and he absently wondered how much was hers and how much Misha’s.

  “Did it hurt?” he asked while setting the cloth aside.

  “It stung a little,” she confessed.

  “Let me make it better,” he offered.

  Grace nodded.

  Colt slid his palm further up Grace’s legs. She parted them slightly, giving him more access. With his fingertips, he brushed her pussy. She let out a soft moan. Colt pressed harder, teasing her slit, finding her hot and wet against his digits.

  “Let’s put this aside for a little bit,” he said, taking the ice from her hands and setting it down beside her.

  Moving closer, he kissed her, slowly teasing her mouth open. She responded by opening up to him and entwining her tongue around his. Colt groaned. He wrapped his hand around her waist, bringing her closer and slipped his other hand beneath her panties. Teasing her hole with a digit, he entered. Grace gasped and threw back her head. Colt dropped kisses down her neck while pushing two fingers into her and pumping.

  “You’re so damn wet and hot, angel. I need to fuck you, Grace.”

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  Colt picked her up and set her on the floor.

  “Lift your arms.”

  She did and he helped her out of her dress. His breath hitched.

  “You’re wearing red,” he stated dumbly.

  Grace grinned.

  “You did say it was your favorite color. I aim to please.”

  “Don’t move.”

  Colt took a step back to take her in. Grace stood before him in a blood red lingerie set, consisting of a low-cut bra, tiny thong, and garter, all in a sheer material which allowed him to see her taut nipples and swollen pussy.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Grace.” He undid the buttons of his shirt, and removed it. “I’m going to do it hard and fast, because I can’t wait another moment.”

  “Do it,” she said. “Fuck me.”

  Colt weighed one breast in his hand, teasing the erect nipple with his thumb. Lowering the bra cup, he brought his head down to it, licking around the areola before sucking hard. Grace moaned. He did the same with the other breast.

  Grace tugged at his belt loops, undoing them. He watched her face as she lowered his zipper. Her tongue peeked between her teeth, wetting her lips, making him hungrier for her. He rushed through the motions, picking a condom from the back pocket of his jeans, tearing it open and rolling it on.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he said, while grabbing her ass and lifting her.

  She did as he asked. His cock rested at her entrance, the welcoming heat almost making him lose his load. He lunged forward, entering her in one movement. He breathed hard through his nose, giving her a moment to adjust to his girth, then he pulled back. Grace’s fingernails dug into his shoulders. Her mouth fell open and tiny little cries of pleasure urged him forward.

  Faster.

  Harder.

  Until their bodies slapped together and sweat coated their flesh. Colt gritted his teeth. He was so close, but not without her, not without giving her the release she needed. Cupping her head, he brought her forward so he could kiss her again. The change in angle was just what she needed, because she screamed her release into his mouth, triggering his own.

  Chapter Six

  Colt held Grace tightly in his embrace. She had lowered her legs to the floor, but kept her arms tightly wound around him. Their bodies were sweaty and their breathing labored, but he could still smell the fragrance of her shampoo. His chest tightened.

  He pushed her away.

  Enough. He shouldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be holding her as if they were lovers. This was nothing more than hardcore sex. A little fun. That was it. Colt strode to the trash can beneath the kitchen sink and discarded the used condom. It’d been a phenomenal fuck, but that was it. She had to go. He turned around to tell her, but stopped. Grace was leaning against the kitchen island, eyes closed and head thrown back, a smile playing on her lips. She still wore her bra and her garter, both items askew. Her golden tendrils curled like a wave below her shoulders. And her skin glowed, like warm sunshine on some tropical beach. Colt sucked in his cheeks. He would never forget this image. It’d be impossible. He’d never seen anything sexier and he’d had his fair share of women, but Grace was different. And that was why she had to go. Immediately. She compromised everything. His work. His morals. His dead heart, beating against his rib cage harder than it had ever done.

  “Grace—“

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Her blue gaze landed on him, piercing him with a look which traveled straight to his soul, winding itself within him in a grip so strong it left him breathless.

  “Thank you?” He sounded like a damn idiot.

  “I still remember my name, but that was amazing.” She grinned and the happiness he’d seen in the photograph returned. He yearned for more.

  “We can do it again whenever you want,” he said.

  She looked pointedly at his cock.

  “I think you need a rest.”

  Colt groaned.

  “I have more stamina than you think. All I need is a little encouragement.”

  He mimicked fellatio. Grace laughed.

  “Maybe later. Right now, I need a break. This is starting to hurt.” She gingerly touched her lip and her cheekbone.

  Colt clenched his teeth. What was wrong with him? One moment
he was about to tell her to get out and the next he was implying she should give him a blowjob. And now, this uncomfortable feeling taking over him. As if he cared. As if he could.

  “Yes, we should get you back home,” he said.

  “Home?”

  “To the hotel.”

  He tried not to look in her direction, but he couldn’t avoid it. She readjusted her bra, hands shaking.

  “Will it be safe?” she asked.

  Colt shrugged.

  “No idea.” He slipped his arms through his shirt and buttoned it up.

  “Why did you bring me here?” Grace glared at him, hands on her hips.

  Colt combed his hair with his fingers. He pulled at the strands too hard and winced. The physical pain was better than the claustrophobia wrapping around him.

  “I promised I’d make you forget for a while. Mission accomplished. It was fun, but it’s over.”

  “I understand, but that doesn’t explain why you brought me here, why you didn’t let me call the police. You could have just left me at the hotel. You could have let the other man kidnap me. You didn’t, why?”

  “Because I just couldn’t. Damn it all. Is that what you would have preferred? Would you prefer to be with Misha right now? To be hurt?”

  “No.” She gasped. “You’ve taken me to your home and now you’re dying for me to go. I’m just trying to understand you.”

  “Don’t.” He spun around. The walls closed in on him. “I need some fresh air.”

  He stormed out of the house and walked toward the cars. The idea of going for a ride appealed to him, but it wouldn’t help. At this point, nothing would. He wanted to run as far away as possible from everything, but couldn’t.

  Colt stood at the edge of the forest, looking in. Impenetrable darkness swirled among the trees.

  “Get it together, man. She’s just another woman. Another easy lay. Nothing else.”

  He covered his face with his hands and the smell of her sex wafted up his nose. She was everywhere. At the back of his mind, at the front. While he slept, while he remained awake. From the moment he’d seen her picture, he couldn’t forget her. Worst was, he didn’t want to.