24. Ciro
24
CIRO
T rue to my statement, my brother is gone.
The man that attacks us now is a ghost. A phantom.
Even with two against one, Ero has always been an unbelievable fighter. The past few months have only made him faster, stronger. Less hesitant.
The same could be said of me, but my training was different.
More survivalist.
More brutal. His was purely martial. Honed to be the most efficient weapon for killing.
He slides over the table, kicking at my head, forcing me back, flipping sideways to reverse the strike and knock Vanya back through the door, splintering it off the frame. Fists meet me as I recover, a rapid barrage of blows that have me ducking and weaving.
I take a few hits to find an opening, booting him in the chest and rushing to follow Vanya.
On the way out, I slip my hand under the entryway table, snatching the gun I just knew he would hide there. Outside, I blink in the bright sun, strafing out of the doorway and spotting Vanya backing to one of the cars in the driveway.
We both dive as a patter of bullets erupts from the house.
Great. He took the time to get out the big gun.
Then he’s standing on the stoop, wide-eyed and deadly.
Popping off a few shots, I drive him off along the side of the house, taking cover behind the woodpile. It buys me precious seconds to reach Vanya.
“Keys?” I eyeball the convertible BMW Z4. Clearly my brother gets a paycheck.
“Still in the ignition.” Of course he has no reason to do otherwise out in the middle of nowhere.
I peek over the hood, looking for a sign of Ero. A few moments drag by and I rise up farther, expecting another volley.
Nothing.
“Shit.” Ero always did have absurd backup plans in place. No way he’s just letting us go.
“What?”
“Get in the car!” The sound of a horn in the distance sends a thrill up my spine. I crawl over the seat, and Vanya keys the engine.
“I am still drunk on tranq!” she shouts, pissed as a wet cat in a cucumber patch.
“Too bad! I gotta disable the computer on this car or he’ll be able to track us even if we lose him.”
Vanya grunts as she peels out, down the cliffside road at a breakneck pace.
And sure enough, right as we reach the main road, two trucks come flying over the hill, Ero hanging on the back of one. He must have called in support while we were talking.
That or he keeps a squad of Mocro in his backyard.
At least he has friends to play with.
Warm wind blasts through the window tussling my hair as I fiddle with the wiring under the dash. I’m about to just yank them all out when Vanya slaps my hand.
“Wait! Look up directions to Casablanca!”
“Just go north!”
“You are such a man ! Do it!”
With a frustrated snarl, I tap the screen on his fancy dash, punching in the city name on the map app. It blips and shows the path, straight along the road we’re hauling ass down.
“What did?—”
“Finish that sentence. Please ,” Vanya snaps, smiling menacingly. Why does that smile make my testicles shrivel up so tight?
I’m about to make another unwelcome comment when bullets whiz through the car past us from either side. So much for the computer. We’re not losing these guys any time soon.
“Fuck!” Vanya slams on the breaks, dropping back.
I duck, pulling her across me.
We get tangled, no one watching the road.
Poking my head up, I watch the trucks veer around in front, trying to block us. Even worse, the men in the back of the trucks, including my brother, aim automatic rifles at us as they swerve past. “Switch!” her voice is muffled, her face pressed into my crotch while she keeps her foot on the gas and I steer.
I manage to get my foot onto the gas, squirming under her.
She’s still on top of me, trying to move over when I see our opportunity.
Momentum carries the trucks at breakneck speed past one another in a zigzag, making it extremely difficult for the gunmen to take aim. And leaving a car-sized gap between them for a split second.
I floor it.
Vanya yelps, shifting on top of me, her legs straddling my lap.
I swear I feel the corners of the trucks pinch the tail end of the Beamer as she clears them, roaring to a seat-mashing 120 mph in just a couple of seconds. Maybe someday my butthole will unpucker.
“That was awesome!” I whoop, checking the road behind us.
Vanya sits up, blowing her hair out of her mouth, glaring nose to nose with me, her chest heaving.
“H-hi,” I chirp, glancing around her head to see the road. In the rearview, I watch them fall behind.
There’s no way they’ll catch us on this straight away. Even if we are a bit limited to staying on a paved road in a sports car, mostly so we can rely on speed to put distance between us.
Until I see them veer off the road.
Just as the path turns slowly.
Dammit. I didn’t even say anything and we still get jinxed.
I spot the city just before they intercept us again. Checking her gun, Vanya puts down some cover fire, but I know it won’t do shit compared to their assault rifles and numbers. And it turns out their windshields are bulletproof.
“Um…”
“Faster?” Vanya suggests.
“No. But yeah.” I stomp the pedal and the magnificent engine roars. That’s the kind of sound that can make a man hard.
And apparently, it works on women too.
Vanya fumbles with my button, reaching into my pants and dragging out my rock-hard cock. All I can do is keep my eyes on the road as it twists and turns, taking us closer to the city.
Rucking up her gown, she starts to jerk me off, pumping me in her fist.
The adrenaline, the heart pounding speed.
“What are you doing?!” Why am I asking that?!
“We might die. It’s fucking hot. And I want you one last time!”
I’m grinning like a fiend as she slams down on me, taking me to the hilt inside her.
“Sweet fuck!” I shout, taking the first hard turn.
We rocket into the outskirts of town, the scenery a rush around us. Our only hope is to reach somewhere in town far enough ahead to make a stand. Or maybe we can make it to the airfield, blow through the fence and drive straight into a cargo jet taking off.
And then I’ll pour myself a martini from the glove compartment.
More like piss my pants.
Or come all over them.
A wave of pleasure shoots up my spine as Vanya rocks back and forth, her slick velvet suctioning me deep and tight. I clench my ass, resisting the urge.
Despite the growing distraction, I take the corners like a pro, leading us through the center of town.
And every time I do, Vanya moans, pounding down on my stick shift like it owes her money. The back wheels slide as I make a one-eighty onto another street.
The effect is dizzying. Almost too much.
“You drive me crazy,” Vanya screams, gripping the back of the seat, grinding down on my shaft, drenching me in her arousal.
“Crazy! So crazy!” I squeak.
Her speed increases as ours ebbs, the narrow streets making it much more dangerous. Which means that I am that much closer to the edge, and our pursuers have a chance to catch us.
These guys know the lay of the land.
Before long, one of them appears behind us, the other bursting through a wooden stall of chickens and paper, nearly taking the roof off the car.
I skid, turn, recover, and stomp the pedal as another car nearly T-bones us, guns pointing out the windows.
Makes sense they would have more men here.
We careen on through the city, cars hot on my tail, my throbbing cock buried in Vanya. The other side of town is coming way too quick without a plan or a way out.
So am I.
I just know it’s a matter of time before Ero calls in an airstrike or just the dealership. Asses to aces says this car is equipped with a kill switch.
But then a beam of heavenly light breaks through the clouds.
Or rather, though a bullet hole in the convertible roof.
Just as I spot our salvation through a break in the buildings.
“Vanya! Let’s take a vacation! On a boat !” I moan, my hips sliding back and forth across the leather seat in rhythmic time with her.
“Yes! Yes!” she screams, oblivious to my meaning. Her legs are tightening around me.
Her walls are tightening around me.
I take a deep breath, taking the route out toward the water, reaching for the roof controls. I accelerate as it hums open, wind rushing and buffeting us.
The whole damn thing catches a gust, ripping free and flying off into the windshield of one of our pursuers.
“Do. Not. Stop!” Vanya shouts over the blasting wind.
I wouldn’t dare.
I’ve got to time this just right. And she feels so fucking good.
Vanya and I both start yelling incoherently as we hit the dock going over 100.
Planks buckle behind us, but it’s almost like we’re flying. People dive out of the way, clearing the path on the wharf, far behind us in a flash. And I don’t give a shit.
My legs are locking up, bracing for what is about to happen. Both things.
“I’m gonna?—”
“I’m gonna go fast !” I agree, coming undone, my head spinning. “Ready?!”
I scream, laughing like a hyena at the dentist’s office.
“YES!” she wails as I unload inside of her and the car hits the boat ramp at the end of the dock. We launch into the air, soaring in slow motion.
“Ciro!” She wails, clenching her legs, gushing out around me.
Right as she shudders, I push up against the floorboard, stepping on the seat, the top of the windshield. Vanya’s legs wrap around my middle.
And I leap from the flying car, soaring over the glittering waters of the Atlantic, leaving a sparkling trail of our lust. Our lips meet in a passionate kiss right before we hit the water and tumble apart.
Sputtering and splashing, I find my bearings, trying to hold up my pants. Vanya surfaces, grinning ear to ear.
Even more so when we look up to find several faces looking down on us over the side of the boat, eyes wide, jaws dropped. One man, presumably the captain, rushes to the railing, shouting in another language.
Raining her gun out of the water, Vanya waves at him. “Do you speak English?”
“A bit…”
“If you will take us to the nearest foreign port, I will wire you ten thousand American dollars. Or I can kill you and take boat, da ?” Holy shit this woman is amazing.
The man nods, throwing us a life preserver.
“Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”