Slay (Storm MC #4) (12 page)

Slamming the door of the Jag as I exited it, I surveyed the street. 

Quiet. 

No one around. 

Fucking perfect.

“What’s the plan, boss?”

I turned to Ben.  I’d brought him and two of my other guys with me.  Nash and J, too.  “You three take the back.  I’ll keep Nash and J with me at the front.”

He nodded his agreement.

“I get to finish the asshole, Ben,” I added.

“I figured,” he said, his face a mask of intent.

I watched the three of them head around the back and then motioned for J and Nash to follow me.  A moment later, I banged on the front door. 

We stood back and waited.

When Mario opened the door, he looked at J and Nash before smirking at me.  “Brought your back-up, I see.  Won’t make a difference, though, asshole.  Your bitch owes me money, and I fucking want it.”

My fist collided with his cheek so hard he staggered backwards.  I stepped inside his house and punched him again.  Blood flew at me.  I punched him again. 

“Motherfucker!” he roared.

I ducked as he tried to get a punch in.  “Yeah, I fucking am!  You want to pull the shit you pulled today, this is how I fucking deal with it.” 

My mind was zeroed in on dealing with Mario, but the sound of glass shattering and yelling from the back of the house grabbed my attention.  Nash pushed past me and stalked toward the noise while J stayed with me.

Mario snarled at me.  “That bitch isn’t worth the shit this will cause, Blade.”

We stood glaring at each other, sizing the situation up.  Adrenaline pumped through my veins, and the desire to end him quickly overwhelmed me.  “What fucking shit will this cause, Mario?”

“People won’t like it when I tell them about this.  I hope the cunt is worth it.”

Mario always had thought more of his standing in the world than what it actually was.  I shoved my face in his and grabbed his shirt with both hands.  “You’re missing something here, Mario.”

“What?”  His smugness only fuelled my rage.

“The fact you won’t be around to tell anyone about this,” I growled, and enjoyed watching the smugness slide off his face.

I shoved him away from me.  Hard, so he stumbled back into the wall and slumped to the floor.  His confidence disappeared, and my darkness surged up as I looked down at him.  The demons I forced into hiding most days circled, begging to be let out.  Today, they were in luck. 

J slammed the front door shut and made sure all the curtains were closed.  The house had grown quiet as Ben and the guys dealt with whoever Mario had out the back.  “Just you and me now,” I spat at him.  “Regretting your greed yet, asshole?”

Fear lined his face.  He knew how I dealt with problems.  “I’ll forget the debt, Blade.  And I’ll leave her alone, whatever you want.”  He forced his words out in a haste to stop me.

Too late, motherfucker.

My monsters have already been unleashed
.

I slid my blade from its sheath attached to my belt and stepped closer to him.  Bending to a crouch, I pressed the tip of the knife to his chest.  “Your problem, Mario, is that you just don’t have the fucking brains for this shit.  Takes a smart man to handle the dirty work of this world.  Idiots are slowly weeded out, and it looks like your time’s up.”  I cut the top button of his shirt off.  The sound of it bouncing on the floor was the only sound to be heard in the quiet of the house.

His chest rose and fell, rapidly, sweat pooling on his face as he fought to breathe through his terror.  No words were said, however.  He knew we were way past that.

I cut the next button off and slowly worked my way down his shirt until they were all discarded. 

J grunted from behind me.  “Did you piss yourself, motherfucker?”

He had. 

My monsters roared at the smell of fear in the room.

I trailed the knife down his body, from chest to waist, pushing his shirt out of the way as I went.  His skin hypnotised me as I imagined sinking the knife in and drawing blood.

Blood.

I hungered for it. 

He’ll never threaten a woman again
.

I pressed the knife into his stomach, just deep enough for blood to pool on his skin.  The whimper he emitted touched the edge of my consciousness as I concentrated on my revenge.  A moment later, the smell of his blood hit my nostrils, and I fought the urge to lift my arm and bury the knife in his chest.

“Blade.”

Ben’s voice cut through my fog, and I snapped my head around to look at him.  I glared my question at him. 
What?

“We need to take him to the warehouse for this.”  His voice held urgency.

He was right.

Mario began snivelling as he cowered against the wall. 

With one last scowl at him, I stood.  Jerking my chin at Ben and the guys, I ordered, “Get him into the back of the van and I’ll meet you there.”

Ben nodded his understanding, and the three of them moved into action.

Nash looked at his watch.  “You good now, brother?  Or do you still need us?”

I reached behind me and slid my knife back in its sheath.  “We can handle this from here.  How many are out the back?”

“Two.  They’re unconscious.”  He gave me the information I needed, and I nodded.  They wouldn’t be a problem as they were only men for hire.  Mario had no loyalty in his operation.

Nash slapped me on the back.  “Yell out if you need us again.  Always happy to help.”

J gave me a chin jerk, and I watched them leave.  Scott had come through for me today when I’d called and asked for his help.  I hadn’t wanted to ever ask him for it, but when Layla called, I was dealing with a situation I couldn’t leave, and Scott was my best option.

***

It was ten o’clock that night before I saw Layla again.  She sat in the corner at a table. 

My table
.

Her head rested on her arms on the table, and, as I approached, I sensed she was asleep.  She didn’t stir when I sat, so I rested my hand on her shoulder.  “Layla,” I murmured as I gently nudged her.

Her head shot up, and groggy eyes stared back at me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” I apologised.

“You okay?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

I frowned.  “Yeah.  Why?”

“I never heard from you after you left, so I’ve been worried.”

I’m an asshole.

What the fuck am I doing?

I leaned back in the chair and stretched my back.  My muscles were all knotted, and the pain I always felt there had intensified this afternoon.  Raking my hand through my hair, I said, “I took care of Mario.  You don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

She stared at me silently.  Her quick nod was all she gave me before she stood and walked away.

Fuck.

I dropped my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

She’ll never accept your demons.

What the fuck are you doing?

I took a deep breath.  Best to face the truth before beginning something.  Disappointment washed through me, though.  I’d thought the connection had been there.  I’d thought she might accept my darkness.

I opened my eyes and lifted my head.

She stood in front of me. 

“Thought you could do with a drink,” she murmured as she passed me a glass and the bottle of scotch.

Fuck.

You don’t deserve her.

“Thank you.”  I poured a drink and asked, “You want one?”

“No, I’ve already had a few tonight.  I’m so tired that another one might knock me on my ass.”  She sat down again, her movements sluggish.

I eyed the scarf around her neck.  Reaching across the table, I loosened it to reveal the marks I’d left there last night.  The asshole in me loved those fucking marks.

Her hand landed on mine and held it there.  Our eyes met.  The noise in my mind that never shut off quietened.  The ache in my chest that clung to me and never gave me a moment’s peace ceased.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Fuck, her touch healed, if only for that moment.  She knew what I’d done, and she was fucking thanking me for it.  She accepted that part of me.

I drank some of my scotch and welcomed its burn. 

She let my hand go, tightening her scarf back around her neck.  My need to be connected to her was too great to move my hand away.  I trailed my finger along her collarbone and then I traced the skin above the v of her t-shirt, letting my finger slip underneath the material every now and then.  The gentle rise and fall of her chest turned me on.  I loved how I affected her.

I kept feathering my light touch over her skin while I drank the rest of my scotch.  Our eyes held each other, and the slow burn of need sizzled through me.

“I need you,” I growled.

“I need you, too,” she whispered.

Fuck.

I looked at my hand against her chest and the contradiction of what that hand could deliver wasn’t lost on me. 

The contradiction of me.

I moved my hand and stood.  Picking up the scotch and my glass, I waited for her to stand, and then I followed her.  I took the scotch upstairs with me.  I’d need it tonight.

Chapter Eleven

Layla

Donovan’s need matched mine, but he fucked me slower tonight.  He didn’t have the wild, driving desire of last night. Instead, he blessed me with his touch.

It was almost like a spiritual experience.

He sat on the edge of the bed, facing me while I stood, and wordlessly stripped me, eyes focused on my body rather than my face.  Once he had me naked, he snaked his hands around me and rested them on my ass.  He bent forward and pressed a kiss to my stomach.  A growl came from his chest, and he gripped my butt tight, kissing my stomach as if he was kissing my mouth.  I dropped my head back and grasped his hair while the pleasure spread through me.

When he’d finished kissing all over my stomach, he moved lower to my pussy.  His hand slid down the back of my leg and he lifted it so he could place my foot on the bed.  He opened me up to him, and my core clenched as he licked along my slit.  He growled again, a deep growl that vibrated against my opening, and I moaned my pleasure.

It was a slow, exquisite torture as he gently moved his tongue and fingers inside me.  He would get me close and then back off, leaving me to ride the waves of bliss, and then pant for more.  I was desperate for him to drive me over the edge, but I sensed he needed this to go slow tonight, so I took what he was willing to give until he was ready to give more.

Donovan lost himself in me.  His slow movements gradually built and his grip on me tightened, bit by bit, until he was roughly grasping me and holding me firm to his mouth.  As he finally brought me to my release, my legs trembled and threatened to buckle.  Brilliant white lights burst through my mind as every inch of my body felt the orgasm he’d given me.

“Baby,” he rasped.

Yes.

I opened my eyes and looked into his.  He was sitting on the bed, watching me closely.  Waiting for me.

“Yes,” I whispered, my mind a hot mess of thoughts after that orgasm.

“Come here.”  He pulled me onto his lap, and I went willingly.

I crawled onto him and wrapped my legs around him.  He was still fully clothed, which irritated me, and my hands went to the bottom of his tee and began lifting it over his head.  His arms went up as I pulled it off.  I threw it on the floor and put my hands on his chest.

Oh god, I could get used to this man.

His hands travelled up my arms to my neck.  A moment later, his gaze shifted to my neck and he bent to lay soft kisses on the marks he’d put there last night.  I tilted my head to allow him access and enjoyed the feel of his mouth on me.

“Not gonna mark you tonight,” he mumbled in between kisses.

“I don’t mind,” I confessed.  “I love your teeth on me.”

His hands curled tighter around my neck, and he slowed his kisses until he was still.  His breathing grew ragged and he spoke in a strangled voice.  “No, not rough tonight.”

I sucked in a breath at the ravaged tone in his voice.  It was like he was fractured somehow, not completely himself.

My natural instinct to nurture kicked in, and my hands moved to his face.  I held both cheeks and whispered, “Look at me.”

His head jerked up, and he stared at me with eyes that made me want to wrap him in my arms and never let go.  He didn’t utter a word, just waited for me to speak.

I moved one hand to run it gently through his hair while keeping hold of his cheek with my other hand.  Moving my face to his, I brushed my lips over his and forced him to kiss me.  His mouth opened to let me in and our tongues tangled with the passion consuming us.

When I ended the kiss, I trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck.  I lightly bit him there to test his reaction.  His sharp intake of breath and the way he pressed his erection into me told me what I needed to know, and I bit harder and sucked him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hands moving down to hold my breasts.

I continued what I was doing while he ran his hands all over my body.  He worked me into a frenzy with his touch, and I was breathless with need by the time I moved my mouth from his neck.  Pulling his face back to mine, I murmured, “You need to fuck me now.  Rough, hard, slow, whatever...I don’t care how, just do it.”

His body tensed and his arms came around me as he stood, holding me to him.  God, I loved the strength this man had.  My legs were wrapped tight around him, but I had no doubt that, if I was to let go, he’d still be able to hold me up with ease.

Once he was standing, he turned and placed me on the bed.  Eyes on me, his hands went to his belt and he stripped.  I held his gaze until he was naked.  His body was too spectacular not to look at, and I let my eyes roam all over him.  My pussy screamed out for his hard cock, and I moved myself up the bed, ready for him.

He rolled a condom on, and then bent his hands to the bed to climb on top of me.  Holding himself over me, face to face, he growled, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.  Haven’t wanted a woman as much as I want you in a long fucking time.”