Chapter 12 #2
I lift one of her legs onto my shoulders, then the other, and I wince when it hits my bandaged wound. But I won’t stop. I press inside with two fingers on either side of her clit and drive my cock into her until she screams out loud with the next orgasm.
I fall next to her on the carpet, panting.
And yet. It’s never enough. I’m still hard for her.
She takes me in hand. “Want me to do something about this?”
I always want more of her.
The bartender finally returns with our drinks: my whiskey, neat, and Mia’s martini, extra olives, extra vodka, extra dirty.
“Mia,” I say.
“Armin,” she says. I hand her the glass and we clink a sly little cheers.
Her eyes flick to the door. I turn to follow her gaze.
Vance.
He joins us at the bar, and I’m quick to insert myself between him and Mia. I wonder if he’s been down to his office.
“Can I buy you a drink, boss?” I raise one hand to call back the bartender.
“Not necessary.” Vance leans on the bar and eyes us: Mia gorgeous and sparkling on my arm, and with hair like she stuck her finger in an electric socket, buttons on my rumpled shirt missing, bullethole tear in the shoulder of my jacket, my grin from ear to ear.
“What the hell happened to the code names?” At first I think he’s joking, but his tone is stern.
Mia comes to my rescue.
“I’d say I was sorry,” she offers, stirring her drink. “But Pyramus takes a long time to say when you’ve been tased and drugged and chained to a wall.”
“Why’d you pick these ridiculous names for us, anyway?”
“There’s something Babylonian about you two.” He shakes his head, and then he stands there for so long I wonder if I’m going to finish this whiskey before he leaves. “I want to see you in my office tomorrow morning.”
I nod. “Sure.”
I can’t tell if this is about last night, or Mia, or me, or the fact that we fucked long and hard in his office.
But he doesn’t offer any details. And with that, he’s gone.
That was the extent of Vance’s small talk.
Surprise surprise, he’s not a daydrinker, either.
We watch him disappear into the hallway and out of sight.
Not the kind of guy to fraternize with the help or the client, I suppose.
“Babylonian.” Mia sips on her martini and licks her lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Not sure.” I shrug. “Maybe we remind him of a lost civilization.”
I lace my fingers in Mia’s, and for once she doesn’t pull away. A warmth spreads through me.
“Maybe,” she says.
“He was an okay guy. I’d work for him again.” I stroke the soft skin of her hand with my thumb. “But only for you.”
“I don’t know.” Mia side-eyes me. “I think your wage labor days might be over. You’re ungovernable.”
I lean in close, my lips at Mia’s ear. I want to lick and suck that earlobe into my mouth, but I restrain myself. “You did this to me,” I whisper.
A slow smile spreads across her face. It dazzles me, as ever. She pivots on her bar chair, drags her fingers over all the places in my shirt where buttons used to be, before she popped them off. “You still have the safehouse?”
“For another night.”
“Are you still my bodyguard?” She drags an olive off its skewer with her teeth and chews it up.
Don’t I know it.
“Lady, I’ll be whatever you want. You already know that.”
“Let’s go.” She hops off the barstool to link her arm in mine, and it’s all I need in this world.
Still not done with Halo City…