7. Chapter 4 - Hillary
“ S o, he just sat there with his tail between his legs? Just stop.”
Martin, my assistant of the last five years and one of my dearest friends, was the poised picture of professionalism at the best of times; at the worst of times, he was a petty, vicious gossip, and I loved him for it.
“The Vs have him wrapped around their knuckles, Marty. Aaron is a force to be reckoned with most days, but for them, he’s a soft-balled patsy.”
The slim brunette man snickered and sipped his coffee despite the midnight hour. We were seated in the comfortable meeting area of my office, reviewing the last of our notes for the weeks ahead; the rest of my team had long gone home for the day. It wasn’t unusual for us to work late when new developments in my business arose, but tonight had been a particularly long strategy session.
Weston, Martin’s husband, worked late into the evenings as a named partner for Tracey Williams Law—likely why my star employee never seemed to mind it. I paid him handsomely for the flexibility, but I did occasionally feel teeny twinges of guilt that he was tethered to me during most of his waking hours.
“Anyway.” I drained the last of my Sauvignon Blanc with one swallow. “They have some serious decisions to make. This isn’t a game to me.”
Martin nodded and his light gray eyes turned deadly serious. “I know, Laney. Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t walk away from a deal with you—not one this good. He’ll come around quickly. Even Veronica Rodriguez wouldn’t risk ruining this merger.”
I hummed absently and ran the pad of my finger around the rim of my crystal wineglass as I considered what would happen if this merger didn’t go through. I’d stay obscenely rich; they’d stay obscenely rich … but the real reason I wanted control of the Rodriguez company was one of my deepest secrets. A secret even Marty didn’t know.
The security buzzer sounded. I grabbed my phone off the coffee table and flicked to my camera feed, only half-surprised to see Kellan Carlos brooding on my front step.
I flicked on the microphone.
“Go away, Kellan. I don’t have the energy for you tonight.”
The hulking man turned to face the camera in the top right corner of the small alcove and quirked a thick blond eyebrow at the screen.
“ I can disable your system in two minutes, Hill. Let me in, or I’ll come in myself.”
I pursed my lips to contain the forming grin. The arrogance of this man was one of my favorite traits about him … and the one I liked to entertain the least.
“Challenge accepted, Mountain Man. Do your worst. The police chief and I are buddies.”
Kellan’s booming laugh echoed through the tinny speaker of my cell. “I wouldn’t count on it. You’re scary, Killer, but he’s more afraid of me.”
He pulled out a thin metal device from his pocket and tapped it against his palm. I stared incredulously as my screen immediately faded to a deep gray then fizzled out entirely.
Martin chuckled beside me. “If I leave now, will the roof still be on this building tomorrow?”
“If it’s not, he’s paying for it,” I grumbled. Despite the circumstances, the butterflies of eager anticipation outnumbered the zings of irritation pumping through my bloodstream.
This building had nearly half a million in security upgrades, yet here I was, just waiting for the big oaf himself to break into my fortress as promised.
If Marty wasn’t here and I wasn’t so dead tired, I might be tempted to play an adult game of hide-and-seek throughout the stone and glass of the modern loft space, but I was fresh out of fun to give. Kellan had stood me up for the last time; I wasn’t about to give him an out before a very satisfying grovel.
The Viking gave me his cock and his kisses on a silver platter, but "I’m sorry" wouldn’t be on the menu tonight. The expectation of a grovel from Kellan was as satisfying as a Play-Doh dildo.
One minute and forty-seven seconds later, the shadowy figure of a miniature Hulk strolled through my main office doorwa y. I tracked his smooth movements through the glass walls of my open office space as he sauntered toward us. A dangerous grin spread wide across his angular cheekbones that shot fiery sparks deep into my belly.
When he officially made his presence known in front of my suite, he leaned casually against the doorway and shoved his hands in his pockets as he jutted his chin in challenge.
“You were saying?”
“My cue to leave!” Martin beamed cheerfully as he slid off the cream leather sofa, grabbing the navy suit jacket he’d tossed between us. He turned to the challenging commando still taking up space in my doorway, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck, my friend.”
I didn’t need to see the wink to know it had come and gone—Marty’s cheekiness was his trademark attempt to lower the boiling temperature in the room. It was why we worked so well together. I was a notable hothead, and Martin knew just how to defuse me—most of the time.
Kellan, however, shot the mercury out of the thermometer, toxic fumes be damned. He poked and prodded until one of us detonated—a constant game of apocalyptic cat and mouse.
He grunted in a Neanderthal form of acknowledgment as Martin squeezed past him, but his dark blue gaze never shifted from mine.
A burgeoning silence took over the space, filled with all the words we couldn’t say out loud. I breathed evenly through it, determined not to be the first to crack.
Instead, I took in his appearance; his crisp sky-blue dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the myriad of rich, colorful tattoos across his neck and chest. Rolled up sleeves exposed the colorful artwork on his forearms; a black leather cuff bracelet encircled one wrist, and a tasteful, moderately expensive watch on the other.
Thi ck thighs and firm ass crammed into a tight black pair of dress pants, and the leather loafers on his feet looked like they belonged in a fashion magazine, not on the intimidating Viking king.
“A little songbird told me you’d be here tonight.”
His deep voice was as gruff as sandpaper and as smooth as fine silk. The man was a walking dichotomy, treading the line of dark and light with every footstep. A twisted, tortured soul.
A tortured soul who was a coward.
My victory at not being the first to speak was short-lived at the realization Kellan had spoken to Winter instead of reaching out to me.
I injected steel straight into my spine and stood to my full height, diverting the heat simmering in my core to fuel the fire in my eyes.
“You don’t need to spy on me through your sister-in-law,” I retorted dryly and folded my arms across my chest. “You could pick up your phone and call me.”
He rose slowly off the door, angling his body to face mine as he mimicked my stance. I knew this tactic well—I used it daily. He wasn’t going to FBI-psychology me by mirroring my movements to appear less threatening.
“I knew you were mad.” He shrugged his large shoulders unapologetically. “A good soldier does a little recon before engaging the enemy.”
Before I could blink my eyes, he stood directly in front of me, so closely the heat of his body blanketed mine in a soothing caress.
I pushed away that thought. There was nothing soothing about this conversation.
I tilted my head to stare into the dark oceans of his gaze that kept pulling me in despite my best reservations. “Is that what I am now, Kellan? Trust me when I say you don’t want me as your enemy.”
“ I don’t want you as my enemy.” He echoed, reaching up to tuck a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear. “I want you as my …”
He trailed off, but not in search of the right words. Our gazes were locked, the clouds of emotions within his pupils clearing as one dominant feeling took hold and matched mine—desperate need.
I had to break the spell. As much as I wanted the sweet release only Kellan’s dominant nature could give me, I couldn’t continue to dance like a doll on his stage. I wasn’t a puppet, and he wasn’t my master.
I took a step back, but the heady mix of hormones and lust made me forget the beautiful Italian couch directly behind me, and I fell backwards into its comfortable seat—just what my predator wanted.
The large man’s grin was wicked when he leaned over me and brushed his nose against the underside of my jaw, inhaling deeply.
“Kellan,” I warned, pressing my palms against his stone chest to push him away. He leaned deeper into me, moving one hand to grip the side of my head. Holding me in place, he nuzzled my earlobe with soft kisses.
“You smell so good, Killer.” His firm lips moved down to my pulse point as he brought his legs up onto the couch, locking me between his thighs, his considerable bulk hovering over me. His growing erection dug into the soft flesh of my belly and my panties grew damp at the feel of him.
If I pushed him away, he’d back off. He was dominant, but he would never go against my wishes. As much as I wanted to exert my power and kick him out for the continued lack of respect for my time, I needed his sweet release even more.
Sex with Kellan was its own form of therapy, and I would pay for the service tonight. I could negotiate the terms and conditions tomorrow.
I angled my head to give him better access and surrendered my body to his ministrations. Two large palms cupped my breasts, squeezing with just enough pressure to cause zings of pleasure to ripple down my spine.
God, I missed the feel of him. The smell of him. The heady mix of amber and bergamot washed over me like a calming warm shower as his touch melted away the stress of my day. The blond bastard was an infuriating, overbearing bear, but my most consistent comfort.
When he bothered to show up, that is.
I pulled his lips to mine, sinking into the couch just a little further as he held my mouth hostage. I surrendered to his punishing kiss. His hips pulsed painfully against me as we got lost in the taste of each other—the familiar flavor of longing on our tongues.
His hands moved from my breasts to my hips, tracing the lines of my hip bones through the soft fabric of my dress. I bucked upward, desperate to be closer, to feel the hardness of his cock against my pussy.
“Surrender.”
It was my word of permission, the word that destroyed my defenses and set me free. Our word.
As I became pliant in his hold, he adjusted my position, laying me down on the wide seat. He gripped my thighs possessively and hiked up my dress to expose my soaked black lace panties.
The Viking knelt down in front of me, brushing his nose against the fabric as he inhaled deeply. His groan resonated against my flesh, shooting electric sparks right to my clit and causing another gush of arousal between my legs.
Ins tead of ripping the covering away from my pussy, he mouthed me through it, stroking his tongue back and forth in taunting caresses against my heating skin.
His top lip teased at my clit, scraping the stubble through the lace, leaving a burning fire in its wake. His bottom lip worked up and down my slick opening, sucking up every drop of want through the ruined gusset.
I twisted my fingers into his thick hair, to hold him in place as he brought me to a dangerously delicious climax. Kellan shook his head against me, scraping his stubble in the most agonizing way as he reached upward to pin my hands against my thighs, rendering me completely at his mercy.
He nipped at my clit, licked my pussy clean and yet, he never removed the one minuscule covering between us. I shook beneath his hold, locking my thighs around his head as I writhed against his chin, until I was just a teeny push away from—
“Aughhhh!” The sweetest release ripped through me, flooding my limbs with the purest shot of euphoria. I melted into the couch. Kellan’s blue eyes filled with wicked, satisfied intent.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised, raising himself from the couch to hover his engorged crotch over my sated head. “Now, let’s take my feral little killer out to play.”
His large hands slowly unzipped his dress pants. Free, his massive cock sprang forward, barely missing my eye. He smelled like clean man, salt, and musk, and my mouth watered as I stuck my tongue out for a teasing taste.
When he shuddered beneath my touch, spurring me on to swirl my tongue over his thick head and swallow down the drops of pre-cum weeping from his tip.
A resonating vibration pulsed against my cheek, but it wasn’t of the pocket sex-toy variety.
“ Don’t answer that.” Delicately, I stroked my fingers up his shaft and peered into the most haunted eyes I had ever seen, challenging him to choose me first.
I groaned with frustration as Kellan drew back and reached into his pocket for the technological mood-killer. The navy in his eyes crackled as he read through the message.
The smog of hazy lust dissipated in mere seconds as he gracefully shifted his weight off of me to stand. Swiftly, he tucked himself back into his trousers.
My blood bubbled to boiling for an entirely different reason. This was the way it always was—the very cause of my anger. For all of his intentions, Kellan was a slave to his cause and a pawn for his family. I was nothing but a convenient distraction—and most times, we couldn’t even get to the ‘distraction’ part.
“What’s Daddy saying tonight?” I sneered, pulling down my light pink dress and adjusting my ponytail. I deepened my voice into a sarcastic drawl. “Come to me, Kellan. The Cartel needs you.”
He curled his lip in a threatening scowl. Gone were the two lovers who desperately needed one another, replaced by two leaders of empires with legions to command. Although Kellan’s allegiances were far murkier than mine.
“We’re not speaking about this, Hill.”
“Why? Afraid of who’s listening? I’ve spent a fortune on this building, Kellan—no one, other than you, has ever gotten in unannounced, and that was because I let you.”
I stood to match his stance, glowering up at his fierce expression. “Please don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m some damsel over here. I know everything there is to know about the Carlos Cartel, and I’m not afraid of your family bullshit.”
“You should be!” The rage that overtook Kellan’s normally neutral face surprised me with its vehemence.
We were no strangers to fucked-up family situations. I had helped him with his own troubles several years ago when his brother and nephew needed a safe place to hide. At no point in the six years since had Kellan shown me any fear for my safety.
Something must be up—with Antonio or his twin brothers—and it was eating at him.
I immediately changed tactics. It would be far quicker to coax Kellan to fess up than it would be to get my PI on it—and that involved some very careful questioning when Antonio Carlos was involved.
“What’s going on, Kellan?” I softened my voice and trailed a finger down his chest, staring up at him with genuine concern. “Why are you afraid for me all of a sudden?”
I could feel him flexing his fists by his sides, and I absently wondered if his phone would survive the vice grip. His determined glare weakened just a smidgen, enough to let me know he would let down his barrier enough to answer the question.
“He’s talking about taking a successor.” The words were bit out; whether they were too hard to admit, or too hard to admit to me , I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. If Antonio wanted to name a successor, there was no question in my mind it would be Kellan.
“And with Georgio out of the picture, he wants it to be you.”
His throat bobbed with a hard swallow, and he dipped his head in a nod.
“Does the FBI know?”
A shake of the head. “No. And if they do, I’ll be more compromised than I already am.”
My heart twinged at that tiny, but momentous, admission. Kellan should suffer from multiple personality disorder with the life he had been forced to lead. My ire didn ’t disappear, but shared its space now with some compassion.
“The world isn’t black and white, Kel,” I murmured gently. “Most of us exist in the gray.”
A dark scowl matched the furrowed brows of a troubled man. “The gray is only going to get people killed.”
“And?” I shifted my shoulders back and stared into the deep blue pits of his burning eyes. “People die in this business, Kellan. One cockroach burns and another scurries in to take its place. We’re puppet masters, but we can’t control all the puppets.”
I laughed bitterly at the acknowledgment; if only I could control all the variables of this chess game. Money could buy most things, but it couldn’t buy absolution. Good people still burned in hell and bad guys still roamed free. It was why we’d chosen these twisted paths with gnarled moral codes.
We were shrouded in guilt and burdened with sorrow; and people would continue to die.
Jagged glass coated his words. “There are some people I’m trying to keep alive. If they weren’t such stubborn, ungrateful brats.”
My caustic laugh could have burned through lead pipe. “I’ve never needed your protection, Kellan dearest. Go save someone else’s life.”
Instead of agreeing, or more likely, disagreeing with me, the Viking lookalike shot freshly sharpened daggers in my direction and then turned away to type with unfiltered fury. He stalked toward the doorway without another word.
“Great chat!” I called after his retreating form. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, you Barbarian!”
I picked up my phone and tapped into my security cameras to watch him fully leave Lane Enterprises premises and stuff his enormous body into the ridiculous FBI-issued sedan.
Jus t when I caught a glimpse of a man who wanted to be mine—he withdrew into his cave like a wounded animal. I wouldn’t see him for weeks, if not months, after tonight’s little charade.
I blew out a frustrated breath, releasing every molecule of exasperation from my lungs so I could move on with my evening. Despite the late hour, I had shit to do, and another Kellan tantrum wasn’t going to interfere with the progress I’d made.
I called down to Josephine, my driver, and waited for her to come around to the front entrance with the Land Rover. It was the only safe way for me to travel this time of night, and we had some things to discuss.
My gaze trailed over the now empty parking lot feeds. Despite my grueling work schedule to keep me busy, I couldn’t suppress the slight pang in my heart. No matter our history, as long as Antonio held his future in his hands, Kellan would always walk away.
Coward.