“It was beautiful.”
Otto laughs, and I straighten in my seat when I see Derek Green appear at the entrance of the bar, lighting a cigarette. The lawyer having a celebratory drink with his client. “Gotta go,” I say, hanging up and getting out.
“James,” Beau calls, stalling me. I look back, and she closes her eyes, swallowing.
“I’ll see you in a minute,” I say, draping a coat over my arm to conceal my gun. “Promise.” I make my way over to Derek Green, as he nervously puffs his way through his smoke.
“I haven’t had one since high school,” he says as the doormen eye me warily. “He’s with me,” Derek thumbs off a few notes and hands them over. “Joining the celebrations.”
They nod and let us pass, and we walk into the foyer side by side. “Have you been told yet why a gun was being delivered to your office?”
“No. Not a word.”
“Details,” I order.
“Far back. Six of them, all armed, all having a whale of a time.” He wipes his brow. “I’m a dead man walking, aren’t I?”
“We’re all dead men walking, Derek.” I push my way through the door and scan the space, spotting Roake at the far back, distracted by a bit of arse being thrust in his face. Can’t Hold Us Feat. Ray Dalton booms as I watch him slap the stripper’s round backside, sending her on her way, before swiping up a bottle of tequila and swigging. “God, I’m such a party pooper,” I whisper, dropping the coat and aiming.
I whistle.
All the men look up.
All reach for their backs on curses.
“Celebrations are over.” I open fire, moving my gun from side to side slowly, taking them all out in seconds. Glasses smash, the stuffing from the plush chairs explodes into the air, screams sound, strippers run for cover, staff duck behind the bar.
I release the trigger and take in the carnage as the music still booms. Blood decorates the wall, the tables, the carpet. It’s a mess. A beautiful mess of dead men.
I wander over and crouch, casting my eyes over the bodies. Not one sign of life.
But . . .
I rise and shower the bodies with more bullets before turning and walking out, pulling my Glock out of my trousers. The doormen back up into the nearest walls, hands up. “What did you see?” I ask, splitting my aim between them.
“Nothing,” one murmurs, shaking like a leaf. “Nothing at all.”
“You were on a break, yes?”
Both nod like demented puppets, and I look at Green. “You better hope they keep their word, Derek,” I say, aiming and shooting out his kneecap.
He screams, dropping like a sack of shit. “Why?” He dribbles and rolls around, clenching his splattered knee.
“It would look odd if you came out of this unscathed, don’t you think?” I turn to the doormen again. “CCTV?” I look up and around, seeing a camera in the corner.
“I’ll get it.” One of the doormen motions to a nearby door. “It’s in there.”
“Be quick now. I expect we’ll have company shortly.”
He hurries away, and I wait patiently, blocking out the irritating sounds of Derek Green squealing in agony. A few minutes later, I’m being handed a hard drive. “That’s all of it?” I ask, looking up through my lashes. “No copies for security or anything like that?”
“No.”
I nod, pushing the door to the security room open with the tip of my gun, and I use the last of my bullets to blow the system to smithereens. Then I walk away, tucking the evidence that’ll ensure Derek’s compliance into my back pocket. I cross the road and slip into the back of the car. Beau doesn’t express her relief, but I see her whole being relax.
And fuck is that good because I need her. I need inside her now. My whole body is alive with adrenalin, and I see the moment she realizes what I need. Her pupils dilate, her breath quickens. I imagine she’s counting in her head how many minutes it will take to get back to the mansion. I’ll fuck her—hard, relentlessly—and then I’ll take her to our room and have her again. She’ll come. I’ll come. And once we’re both sated, once we’re both sweating, broken messes, then I’ll fix us.
20
BEAU
* * *
Fury pulls to a stop and looks to the mirror for instruction. The car ride has been deathly quiet, tense, but not with the same grim anger between us. It’s been a tension I’ve missed. Craved. My insanely stunning boyfriend has one thing on his mind. Fucking. And after what’s happened tonight, I’m completely on board. “I’ve got it,” James says. “And thanks for today.”
“No problem.” Fury swiftly ejects himself, and then it’s me awaiting instruction.
“Come here,” he says flatly.
I look over my shoulder, noting his blood-splattered clothes before I notice the tightness of his expression. His eyes turn onto me slowly as he reaches for the bottom of his shirt, peeling it up his body and tossing it on the seat next to him.
“I want you, Beau. I want you now.” He goes to his trousers and unbuttons the fly, lifting his ass off the seat and pushing them down with his boxers. He seizes his arousal, and my mouth dries at the sight of him stroking slowly down his shaft. I know the rear windows are blacked out. I also know it probably wouldn’t have mattered if they weren’t a few months ago. But now? He would never let anyone see me.
I glance toward the house.
“I can’t wait.” He reaches between the seats and takes my wrist, pulling me into the back. I land on his lap, my dress is shoved up, my panties pushed aside. My back snaps straight when I feel the swelling head of his cock skim me. “Lower.”
I do as I’m bid, releasing the muscles in my thighs, and sink onto his lap, inhaling with every inch I take as his face tightens to the point it’s distorted. “Shit,” he hisses, his body softening, melding into the leather. I hold the back of the seat, my chin dropping to my chest as I subtly roll my hips. The doubt is immediately doused. The fire inside reignited. Sweat, blood, death, and sex saturate the air.
James takes my jaw and directs my face to his, slowly thrusting up as he does. My exhale is jagged, my torso rolling. The heat of our combined breaths is beginning to steam the windows, the air damp. “I love you.” He strains the words, and it’s all that really needs to be said. Because why else would I be here if he didn’t?
I fall forward and take his mouth, starting to rock on his lap, soaking up every bit of the pleasure and our closeness. His hot tongue slips against mine, circling lazily, my hands in his hair hold him. And every reason why we agreed to just fuck when we first met comes flooding back. My mind is washed clean, and my heart no longer hurts. Only James can achieve this state of oblivion in me. And now, it’s needed. No cruelty, no death, no injustice. Only pleasure.
If anything should be the death of me, it is this. But I won’t die, I refuse to die. Not when I now have something wonderful and consuming to live for. It’s something more than revenge. Ironically, James can give me it all.
He gulps, his fingers clawing harder into my hips. I pull back from his lips quickly, my pace speeding up, and I watch him coming undone, the mere sight taking me down the same path of ecstasy. His cheeks hollow from his bite. His eyes fix on mine. “More,” he grates, slipping a hand onto my nape and fisting my hair. I rock faster, whimpering, my head dropping back, my mouth opening, my gaze unmoving from his.