Pistol (22 page)

“No I haven’t,” she laughed. “I haven’t changed you a single bit.”

“Haven’t ya?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t have. He always did what
he
wanted, and he always
got
what he wanted. How could she have changed a thing about him? It’s not as though the man was a freaking lawyer when she met him—he’d always been on the wrong side of the law. “You tell me then, if you’re so sure. What have I changed about you?”

He grinned, and then sighed as he dropped his head back. The subject highly amused him—her not so much. “I came to Australia to start afresh—”

“So you’ve said.”

“Let me finish woman. I came here to get a legit job, to be ‘normal’. I wanted to shrug m
e father’s dirty past from me shoulders, and be a real man—work honestly for me earnin’s.”

“Don’t you?” He did have a job at Atonia after all.

His lips twisted as he suppressed a laugh. “Now I do. It wasn’t always like that.”

Steph gulped back a further panic-attack, and urged her body not to break
out in the cold sweat which itched at her skin. “What did you do? Before Atonia?”

Pete threw his arms over his chest, and chuckled. The deep timbre of his laugh
raised images of Dick Dastardly, and Muttley from her memory. He thought of something bad for certain.

“I was a contractor.”

Steph sighed, and slumped into the seat. “Thank fuck for that. I thought for a moment there you were about to say—”

“That I was a criminal? What did
ya think I meant by ‘contractor’?”

“Labourer, drain-layer, plu
mber, you know the thing.” She wound her hand as she went through the list.

He snickered, and shook his head. “Try debt-collector,” he said. His steely cold eyes connected with hers.
“Of the physical, break-yer-fingers-if-you-don’t-pay kind.”

“Oh.” Her face numbed as the colour drained from her cheeks. “So what’s changed?” Her fingers dug into the armrest to assist her efforts to stay seated, and not flop to the floor, or vomit.

“I gave it up. I started a real job, and gave it up.”

“Because of me?”
She prayed to whoever listened that this was the change he spoke of.

“No,” he sighed.
“Before ya.”

“And now?”
The words fell on a squeak.

“Now
ya make me want to do it again.”

“Why?” she whistled through her reed-like throat.

“Because the way I feel for ya, makes me want to kill every dirty fucker on this earth to keep ya safe. I’ll do anythin’ and everythin’ for ya, no matter the consequence.”

****

He watched as her face rolled through the emotions. Anger, turned to confusion, to shyness, to shock. The thought had never occurred to her that
she
was the one who held the power between them. It had always been Steph who called the shots. Any time she wanted to draw quits, he would have been a slave to her request.

She never realised.

“I ... I never knew. I never thought of it like that. I always thought it was
me
who needed to please
you.
”

“
And ya do, Love. You’ve been under me skin for weeks, and I can tell ya that the mark you’ve left on me is more permanent than any ink I’ll ever choose. You, Cutie, make me want to change. Because of ya, I’ll
never
be the man who set foot in this country again.”

A cute furrow drew her expression stern. “
You’ll never want to be ‘normal’, and stay on the right side of the law? Because of me?”

“I’ll never kid
meself that I ever could.”

Her expression remained impassive, yet focused.

“Love, some days I wish like hell ya were the one that got away. But other days I think about cuttin’ meself to make sure I’m not lost in a fantasy, a mere dream, because you’re so
right
. Ya fit like the last piece to me puzzle.”

He could see the cogs work in her head, the thoughts churn. “
How do I fit? I mean, you say I make you
worse
?” Her head dropped, her face hidden from his view.

Pistol slid his free hand under her jaw, and coaxed her to look up. He caressed her lips with his, eager to show her everything he could in one sweet, soft kiss. More than anything he wanted her to know
he could
do sweet and soft—when the time called for it. “And yet ya stay.”

“Because I have to,” she whispered.

His heart cramped.
Controlling—like yer father.
“Why? Why do ya
have
to?”

Steph’s legs slowly
slipped from the seat, and she moved her body toward him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she rested her forehead to his. He inhaled the sweet smell of her; the flowers he would never be able to look at again without the thought of her pure, milky skin. “Because, wrong as everything you do may be, those reactions are
you.
I have to stay, because being with me, makes you embrace
you
.”

Pistol gripped the sides of her head, and growled into her hair. “How can
ya be for fuckin’ real?”

“Likewise.”

He drew her face upward, and damn near mauled her with the intensity of his kiss. Deep inside, he knew he’d forever be scared she’d leave. “Ya know I’d come after ya if ya left, eh?”

“Without a doubt.”
She chuckled.

“I’d fuckin’ kill every man who touched ya, and lock ya up so ya never left me again.”

“See—” she giggled softly, “—you can do romantic.”

He chuckled as he
stroked her hair from her shoulder. Her flesh pricked beneath his lips as he trailed kisses along her collarbone. “Only me own fucked-up kind, though.”

“You know I love you, right?” she whispered.

He drew back, and studied her features. “How?”

“What do you mean how?”

“How can ya love me? After all I’ve done? After all I’ve—”

“You’ve shown me so damn much about myself, Pete.”

“But I thought—”

“And I was wrong. Yeah, it’s been hard for me to express myself so openly. I guess I’ve always known what I
wanted; I just never had the guts to ask. But with you ...”

“
Ya don’t need to ask,” he finished. He satisfied the urge to brush her cheek as she smiled. Here he was, sure his destruction of her was pure selfishness on his behalf, but the whole time it had been for her—what she needed. “Even so, Cutie, appreciation isn’t love.”

He caught the flare of her nostrils, the tear in her eye. “You want to know what tells me I love
you?”

He nodded.

“Every morning when I wake up, I wish you were there beside me to make me feel beautiful, so that I had the guts to face the day head-on. When you walk away from me, I want to run after you and grab hold of you, never let you go. When you look at me, I wish I could freeze time, and experience the thrill it gives me deep in my chest, forever.”

“But all we do is fight. Half the time I wonder if you’d be better off without
me.”

“We only fight, Pete, because we care. If we didn’t care, we wouldn’t have the passion to fight for what’s right.”

“And what’s right?” he asked, afraid the answer would be something he could never deliver to her.

“Us.”
She smiled.

“And
ya wonder why I’d kill for ya,” he teased.

She scrunched her fingers in his hair
, and tugged him closer. “Don’t push it.” Her bright smile faded like dawn light over the horizon of her face. Darkness replaced the earlier joy. A single tear roamed the soft flesh of her cheek.

“Jesus, I’ve done it again,” he hissed.

“What?”

“Upset ya.”

“No you haven’t.” She shook her head.

“But yer cryin’.”

She giggled, broken with a snort. “Because I’m happy, you big doofus.”

“Doofus,” he mimicked.

“Shut-up.” Steph lashed out a soft fist, and smacked him square on the shoulder.

Pistol growled, and grabbed her by both wrists. She startled, but he was determined to show this stupidly insecure woman what she meant. He’d fuckin’ well have her, but he’d stun the hell out of her by how he’d do it.

He’d
show
her how much he loved her.

Steph squealed as Pete dug his hands under her ass, and rose from the couch with her in his arms. His eyes darkened, and her body sparked to life in response. She
didn’t even entertain the idea of showing indifference to his actions; instead she grinned like a lunatic as he carried her to the bedroom.

He kicked the door wide, and walked through with purpose before
he tossed her onto the mattress. Steph sprung into the air on impact, and giggled like a pre-schooler in a bouncy castle. Her heart swelled as she watched his blatant determination, and her insides thrummed at the thought of what he might have planned. Would it be more rough-and-ready? Or something kinkier?

He stood at the side of the bed, hands on hips as he flicked his lip-ring back and forth. “So many things I could do to
ya right now.”

“Then do them,” she challenged,
and gave her best come-hither look.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “It has to be right.”

Steph waited as patiently as she could while arousal coursed through her body. “Anytime now would be nice,” she teased.

“Fuck. Don’t pressure me woman. I’m not used to think
in’ like this.”

“Like what?” she asked, and drew to her elbows.

“Meaningful. Gentle.”

“Oh.” He wanted to be gentle, and he didn’t know how. Steph snorted.

“Oh, fuck ya,” he chastised. “Here I am, tryin’ to be all gentleman-like, and show ya how fuckin’ special ya are to me, and all ya do is laugh.”

“Come on.” She giggled. “It’s hilarious watching your cute expression as you try to think.”

“Ya want cute, huh?” he growled. “I’ll give ya cute.” He dived onto the bed, and held himself over her.

Steph drew her arms up to defend herself as she giggled.
He ducked his head to her neck, and bit her.
What the fuck?
“You bit me!”

“Yeah,” he remarked
. A shit-eater grin ripped his face in two. “Ya wanted cute. Well puppies are cute, and they bite.”

“Aww,” Steph teased.
“Coochie-coochie-coo.” She tickled him under the jaw as she taunted him. The words acted as a red flag to the bull, but so what? The result was bound to be fun.

“Ye
r bloody askin’ for it, woman.”

“And you’re taking an age to deliver.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pyjama pants, and tugged. “How, me Love, am I meant to do anythin’ with this incredibly appealin’ item of clothin’ in me way?”

Steph scowled, and bucked him off to make room. He obliged, and she drew her pants to her ankles,
then kicked them to the floor. “There.”

“Better ...”

“But?”

“
Yer top’s still on.”

Seriously?
Steph shook her head, and then rose up to tug the fabric over her head. He assisted when her arm got caught given the awkward angle she was on, still being underneath him. “Better?” she asked as it also hit the floor.

“Much.” His eyes fell heavy, and he made a show of looking her over. “Too fuckin’ sexy to keep covered around me.”

“You’re stalling,” she growled.

He quirked an eyebrow, and smirked.
“Am I?”

Come on, surely he’
s going to get naked, too?
Steph grabbed a handful of his shirt, and tugged. “Off.”

He scooted back off the bed, and slipped the waistcoat over the shirt. Steph chewed her lip as she watched him strip, too absorbed in his playful reveal to pay any mind to her nudity. The white shirt fell apart as he freed the final button, and his colourful artwork lay in the open for her appreciation once more. So many pictures made up the various designs that she estimated it would take a week to find them all, but it was a week she’d gladly
spend.

He tucked his thumbs into the band of his box
ers, and paused. “All of it,” she demanded.

He waggled an eyebrow, then shoved the material down his legs, and kicked it aside. “Cutie
wants, Cutie gets.”

“Cutie wants that,” she groaned,
and pointed to his already thick erection.

“Cutie gets,” he growled, and launched himself on the bed once more.

Steph squealed as he hooked a hand under her back, and roughly tossed her further up the bed. She threw her arms around his neck, and drew him in for a fast, and frantic kiss. The action set the pace for all that would follow.

His palms kneaded her breasts as he kissed a fast trail down her stomach to her pelvis,
where he sucked the flesh of her mound into his mouth, and swirled his tongue over top. Steph groaned, and fisted her hands in his hair. She held him in place as he licked her in several long, hard sweeps.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he grunted, and then thrust two fingers in.

“Shit,” Steph wailed. The sudden intrusion damn near had her convulse on the spot. “Fuck, Pete.”

“I love it how
ya don’t call me Pistol,” he muttered between licks of her folds.

“Why,” Steph breathed.

“It reminds me how close ya are to me heart.”

Steph bit down on her bottom lip as Pete increased the pace with his fingers. That, combined with his words threw her toward a freefall which had no foreseeable end. “Get in me,” she demanded.

“Cutie gets,” he reiterated as he drew himself over her.

She eyed his artwork,
and ran her hands over his chest, then down his arms. Her jaw fell slack, and a moan pulled her chest tight as Pete rammed home. She growled at the fullness of him, and arched her back to tip her pelvis around him.

“Every time,” he murmured close to her ear.

“Huh?” Steph managed between cries of bliss.

He drew her earlobe between his teeth, and bit down gently. “Every time I have
ya, it’s as tight as the first.”

Oh. Was that a good thing?

“It’s like yer cunt wants to wrap its fist about me, and remind me who’s in charge.”

Steph smiled, and clenched her muscles.

“Jesus,” Pete moaned. “Keep it tight, and you’ll have me comin’ in seconds.”

“Wait.” Steph placed a firm palm against his chest, and he stilled.
“Shift.”

He drew back, and she cringed momentarily at the loss of connection. He watched her flip to her hands and knees, and edge back into where he sat back on his heels.

“Ya want it like that, huh?”

She glanced over her should
er at the glorious sight of him; flexed, aroused, and lust-filled. “Hard.”

He threw a flat palm out, and belted her across the ass-cheek. “Fuck
, you’re perfect.”

Steph hissed at the burn of the slap, but followed with a groan as the pain heightened the feel of him re-enter. Pete
thrust his hips with a grunt each time. Steph raised up, and gripped the solid headboard to anchor herself against his onslaught. She moaned at the way her body jolted with his force.

It felt incredible.

Subjects that had no business in her head at such a time littered her thoughts. She reminisced how Dave would never have been as adventurous as Pete. She also marvelled at how alive Pete made her feel. How could she have missed out on this all this time? Then again, maybe it was fate that she wasted so much time with Dave, otherwise maybe she would have never met Pete? Another slap to her backside brought her firmly back to the now, and she realised how tight her core was wound.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Pete muttered.

The tension let go, and her entire body lost any semblance of control as every muscle fell victim to the high she soared on.

With a
guttural roar, Pete came. He still twitched within her as he collapsed onto her back. “Jesus, Love. Ya sure ya need to go to work today?”

“Work!”
Steph wriggled free of Pete’s embrace, and flew into the en suite.

“Hey,” he called after her. “What the fuck?”

“No time,” she hollered as she wrenched the taps on in the shower. “I need to get ready.”

The door opened behind her, and Pete stood in full naked glory, a silly smile on his face. “Did I leave yer head that scrambled?”

“What?” she asked wide-eyed as she stepped into the shower.

“It’s only
six-thirty.”

Steph slouched under the water, and sighed. “Thank Christ. I thought I was done for.”

The steam dissipated as Pete opened the door to join her. “Of course ya are,” he said with a wicked grin. “What do ya expect when ya tear away from me like that?”

Despite the warm water that encased her, Steph shuddered.

Oh, hell.

“
Ya better find yerself somethin’ to hold on to, Love.”