8. Anders
Anders
M y anger simmers just beneath the surface of my skin, my blood at a rolling boil as I head to Carmela’s office. If she isn’t going to take the threat to her life seriously, why should I? Or Martin and Nikolai, or anyone, for that matter?
This is a job, but when the other two called to tell me they lost her this morning, I nearly had a panic attack. I’m supposed to stay calm in my line of work, but the thought of Carmela in danger had my skin buzzing with electrified anxiety while my insides twisted as if someone were literally squeezing my organs.
Only one other person has ever evoked that kind of reaction from me. And I promised myself it would never happen again .
Apparently, I’m shit at keeping promises to myself.
I knock on her door, tapping my foot impatiently while waiting for her to invite me in. As soon as the door closes behind me, I rip the mask off my face and shove the scrap of fabric in my pocket. “Where were you today?”
“Awww. Was my guard dog worried about Mommy? Someone didn’t do a good job protecting their mistress today, did they? No treats for you, smooth guy. Why don’t you curl up at my feet and show me how sorry you are?” The mouthy bitch doesn’t even look away from her computer as she speaks to me in a babyish tone. Her plump lower lip protrudes as she fake pouts, and unwarranted thoughts of sliding my tongue along it before sucking it into my mouth and biting down hard run through my mind.
“With all your dog talk, I’m beginning to think you’re into bestiality,” I drawl as I approach her desk. Curling my hands on the back of the chair opposite her, I take her in as she scrunches her petite nose in disgust. She’s wearing horn-rimmed glasses that give her a sexy librarian vibe, and one of her designer suits that hugs her curves in all the right ways. The jacket of it is slung over the sofa, leaving her in a vest that shows off her perfect tits.
And I’m already hard. Great.
“That’s disgusting, and I’m going to pretend like you never said it. And I’m still going to keep calling you a dog simply because I like how pissy it makes you.” She exits out of whatever she’s working on and turns her full attention to me, dragging her dark eyes down my body like I’m a decadent dessert she wants to dig into. “I came up with some ideas for how to play tonight. Don’t worry, neither option will require you to break your moral compass . Might question your virility, though,” she mumbles the last part under her breath while stacking some papers, clearing the part of her desk that doesn’t house her computer.
“Funny, I remember you coming on my cock just fine. Don’t think there’s anything wrong with my virility .”
She taps her chin with her finger, looking as if contemplating something. “Funny, I don’t recall. Must not have been that memorable.”
Rolling my eyes, I snort and motion for her to hurry up and tell me her ideas. “Go on then. Let’s hear what you came up with.”
Because the only thing I was able to come up with was her on her knees while I fuck her sassy little mouth. Pretty sure I won’t be able to concentrate on trying to figure out if the killer is in the room while watching her gag on my cock, though.
Such a shame.
“Option one: you sit and enjoy the show. I’ll get myself off, and you’ll get a front-row seat while still being able to see the rest of the room.” She pulls the glasses from her face and sets them next to her computer as she stands. “Option two: I can give you a lap dance, you can pretend like you’re enjoying it, and we can pretend that I ride your fingers to completion. It doesn’t have to be graphic. No one else has to see anything other than what appears to be me riding your hand.”
“I’d prefer the option where I don’t touch you.” My words have no bite as I look everywhere but at her because I’m sure she can see right through me.
“You should feel lucky. Touching me is a privilege,” she taunts flirtatiously. I finally drag my eyes to hers. Her pretty lips are upturned like she’s finding this whole interaction amusing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s enjoying this.
“I won’t have a problem keeping my hands to myself while pretending like I’m actually enjoying the privilege of your tainted flesh.” New York is turning me into such a fucking liar. Carmela looks good enough to eat, and I’ve already proven that my self-control is lacking where she’s concerned. The moment she licked my face at that first show, my dick saluted her like she was its new goddamn mistress, and it was ready to take orders.
The corners of her crimson lips turn up as her thick lashes lower. Black-painted nails pull at the button of her pants, and before I can ask what she’s doing, she’s standing there in nothing but the tight-ass, white vest and a thong that might as well be non- existent. “Oh yeah, smooth guy? So tell me, when I’m bare and spread out in front of you, and multiple pairs of eyes are on us, will you be able to pretend you're enjoying it? Or will you break character and turn your nose up at my tainted flesh?”
She kicks her chair out of the way, and my dick springs to life as she crawls on top of her desk— tits nearly spilling out of her top. Then she sits back and pulls her legs in front of her, spreading them wide on each side to show me the most glorious fucking view of her glistening pussy behind the flimsy material. “Why don’t we test it out? Hmm? After all, I’m disgusting, right? So this shouldn’t affect you physically. Let’s see how good you are at acting.”
Her hips lift as she pulls her underwear down each leg and flings them in my direction. I catch them midair, resisting the urge to bring them to my nose to inhale her scent. Instead, I shove them in my pocket in an attempt to nonchalantly rearrange my traitorous cock. “What are you doing, Carmela?”
My body is tense, every part of me wanting to surge forward and sink myself into this fucking piece of artwork laid on the desk before me. Our gazes remain locked as she dips her fingers between her legs and starts to rub at her clit, making little sounds of pleasure as she does. “Fuck, I feel good. Come on, Anders. Don’t you want a taste?”
Is the sky fucking blue? What kind of question is that?
Roughly, I pull the chair out and sit my ass down, leaning back to watch her little show. “Keep going, Mellie . Let’s see how far you’re willing to go to prove me wrong.”
She lets out a fucking giggle that makes me want to leap back out of the chair and wrap my hands around her neck. Lying back, she kicks her legs out as she starts to full-on pinch and rub herself while writhing on the surface of her giant desk. “I love being watched. It makes me feel good knowing that men want to watch me take my own pleasure. Knowing that maybe they’ll learn a thing or two about how to please a woman.”
A snort leaves me while my eyes hone in on a smear of arousal that leaks out of her. “I don’t need lessons on how to pleasure a woman.” She can’t see me, her back arching as her head tips back. Hidden from her view, I palm myself through my pants and tug on my painfully hard dick a few times, trying to get it to cooperate with me.
“You’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” she asks. I can hear the fucking grin on her face. “Get closer. You’ll be right up in there when we're doing a show. Might as well get comfortable with it.” Her fingers dip down, and the tips of two disappear inside her.
“Fuck.” It leaves my mouth before I can stop it, and I drag the chair closer until my knees bang against the siding of the desk.
Instantly, she springs back up to a sitting position, never stopping her ministrations on herself. Her thick hair falls over to one side, and the smile she’s wearing shows off her perfect teeth behind those plump, crimson-painted lips.
While she’s watching me watch her, I try to have a little restraint, so I place my arms on the desk on either side of her hips. My palms twitch to push her back down so I can sink my tongue into her wet heat.
She throws a leg over my shoulder. It catches me by surprise, and I rise out of the chair before her other leg wraps around my neck. The new position has me leaning over her, just above her soaking wet pussy, where her fingers are pumping in and out, creating lewd—but so fucking arousing—sounds that echo throughout her office. “Why can’t you just admit you want me?” she moans.
“Because I’m not a liar.”
Oh, but I fucking am.
I really fucking am.
My dick strains against the confines of my pants, desperate to reach her. Angrily, I adjust it before gathering the saliva in my mouth and spitting it directly onto her clit. “Rub it faster.”
My eyes dart up to see the corner of her lip disappear between her teeth as she lets out a throaty chuckle. “Fuck, baby. I knew you’d be the dirty type.” She pulls her fingers out of her pussy and reaches up with her other hand to grip my hair, tightening her hold until it's painful. When I open my mouth to tell her to let go, she sticks the fingers that are coated in her essence inside and rubs them against my tongue. “Suck them clean.”
I’m pretty sure I come right then and there. Losing the battle with myself, my lips close around her fingers while my own find her wet opening and thrust inside her. She bites her lip again as I fill her, pumping quickly while I graze my teeth against her digits.
Wrenching my head out of her hold, I push her back down to her desk and nudge her legs wide open, tightening my grip on one inner thigh and using my elbow on the other to keep them spread. I hate how she grins up at me while her hands twist in her hair and her back arches, pressing her chest into the air.
“Say that you want me,” she moans her command like a goddess being worshiped by a lowly mortal.
I drop my mouth to her pussy, flattening my tongue as I lick up her center and flick the tip against her clit when I reach it. I don’t answer her, allowing her to wrap her legs around my neck and draw me closer. I finger fuck her and suck on her clit while she mewls and writhes, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I’m fucked, and that I’ve already blown the line between pretend and real, and we haven’t even begun to play yet.
This fucking siren drew me in, and now I’m going to drown between her legs.
“Harder,” she demands, hips lifting to ride against my face. Pulling back, I slap her pussy before hooking my fingers into the dip of her vest to draw her up to me. She’s so fucking flexible as I bend her in half until our noses brush.
She’s breathing heavily, eyes wide at the action as she takes in her arousal that’s smeared all over my lower face. “I told you, I don’t need lessons on how to pleasure a woman. So lie back and take it like a good girl, or I’ll walk out of here right now and leave your greedy cunt soaking wet and wishing you’d kept your dirty mouth shut.”
Quicker than I can blink, she drops her legs from around my neck and pushes me back into the chair before climbing into my lap. My dick is pointed straight up, the head peeking out of my slacks and in the perfect position for her to sit directly on it. Carmela grabs the back of the chair and begins grinding against me through my pants. “God fucking dammit.” I throw my head back. The feel of her riding me is too fucking good. Gripping her hips, I pull her onto me with every thrust. “You don’t like to fucking listen, do you?”
She lifts herself higher, her bare pussy rubbing against my naked crown before sliding back down over my length. “Do you ever shut the fuck up? Either come like a good dog or get the fuck out.”
I stand, lifting her with ease and every intention of dropping her on her ass, but she continues to roll her hips against me, throwing her head back and pressing her glorious tits into my face. I sit her on the edge of her desk, allowing her to undo the button of my slacks and free my length. I piston against her, rubbing my cock through her slick heat and pressing my crown against her clit. The edge of her desk cuts into my thighs, and I can’t imagine it feels good against her naked flesh, but it spurs me on. I press into her harder, wanting to leave marks on her.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” she breathes out.
This is where I should stop. This is where I should deny her an orgasm and walk away triumphantly.
But I don’t.
Instead, I pick up speed and wrap my fist around her hair, yanking her head back to suction my lips to her neck, sucking hard as she comes with a cry. I groan loudly as I spill myself all over her stomach. I don’t stop. I want to pull away to sink into her depths and get her off again with my cock buried inside her. So, I keep sliding against her as my last form of self-control.
“Holy fuck, Anders. You’re going to leave a fucking mark!” She slaps at my chest, trying to escape my bite.
When I pull away, I pull her skin with me before letting it go with a ‘pop,’ wanting to bruise her delicate flesh. “Keep calling me a dog, and I’ll act like one.”
As soon as our eyes lock, we spring away from each other with matching sneers. There’s no post- coital cuddling. No sappy smiles or intimate kisses. There’s only the cold, hard truth of what just transpired between us, and we both look revolted that we let it happen.
“So much for pretending , huh? Guess I’m not so disgusting after all, am I?” she spits out, hopping off her desk to pull her pants back on even though I still have her underwear.
Tucking myself away, I bite back, “You spread your legs like a whore and let a man who doesn’t think highly of you eat you out. You’re certainly not high on my respect list.” I expect my words to earn another spew of hatred from hers, but seeing her visibly deflate at them, while she wipes my cum off her ruined vest, surprises me.
“What’s that say about you then? That you couldn’t even resist a woman who you find so utterly detestable? Maybe you should look into your own problems, Brooks. Get the fuck out of my office.” Her eyes are guarded, and she sounds—dare I say—let down. I’m a little thrown by her use of my last name as she buttons her pants and runs her hands through her hair, back turned to me.
I almost go to her.
Almost wrap my arms around her and pull her to me to tell her that I don’t detest her the slightest bit, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. That she’s already fucking ensnared me, and I’m pissed the fuck off about it .
Instead, I leave, heading to the changing room to get ready, with her underwear in my pocket and her juices on my tongue.
As if I need any more reminders that she’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
An hour later, Carmela emerges from her office in her signature giant wings, skin painted with glitter and her outfit nothing but a series of thin red bands that hold together a strip of lace that barely covers her front.
My cock twitches, ready for round two, even though we never actually discussed which of her options to perform tonight. I want to let her decide, given how we left things earlier. The only way this will work is if it’s believable, and if she’s still angry with me, then it may just be better to let her perform on her own.
Surprisingly, she tucks herself into my side before we reach the Grand Room. I look down at her as we walk, noting how stiff she is as her eyes dart around the hall. It’s almost as if the reality of her situation has caught up with her, and she’s scared.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let you out of my sight. I promise.” I’m alert as we step into the giant space full of eager clients who are overly happy about there being more than one show this month. When Carmela sent out the invitations, she said there were just as many enthusiastic responses as there had been for the last one. My instincts kick into gear as multiple pairs of eyes watch us make our way through the room.
I opted for a long-sleeved Henley with a silky pair of pajama pants for the evening, not wanting to take the chance of my tattoos being recognizable with the shows so close together. The last thing we want to happen is for the killer to realize what’s transpiring.
Carmela lets out a nervous laugh. “You’d think my earlier orgasm would have calmed me down. I feel anything but calm right now, though.”
Her demeanor is foreign for her, but easier for me to sympathize with. Instead of the hellcat I find myself growing fond of, she’s like an unsure kitten. “What option do you want to do?”
I can see her breasts heaving against her lingerie—note how her fists clench so hard she’s bound to have marks from her fingernails. Sliding my arm around her waist, I pull her into me, ignoring one of the bodyguards who takes a step forward. She raises a hand to stop him as I nuzzle her neck to whisper in her ear, “I’ve already spotted Martin and Nikolai. Luca brought in more security for tonight. The only thing you need to do, baby girl, is put on a show. And if you choose to ride my hand, we can do it for real if it will take the edge off. ”
“Yeah, I’d rather not have your fingers inside me while you pay attention to everything but me. Besides, I’m still mad at you.”
There’s my girl.
Chuckling, I place a chaste kiss on her bare shoulder. The show has already started. Various groups are already participating in their own display of debauchery. We pass a group playing with toys and another that looks like some weird caterpillar chain of oral sex. The further into the hall we get, the more Carmela seems to relax.
While I look for anything out of the ordinary, I realize it’s going to be way fucking harder than I ever imagined because everything seems out of the ordinary. Two people fucking are wearing large furry tails. Certain masks are so intricate that the people wearing them look like the stuff of real-life nightmares.
Someone is getting railed by Ghostface, and I honestly didn’t even know that was a thing .
Carmela pulls me over to a small empty stage with a pole, crawling onto it with all the grace of a big cat before removing her wings and grabbing ahold of the pole to spin around it. She’s chosen one that puts my back to the wall, allowing me a clear view of the rest of the room without worrying about who is behind me.
Over her shoulder, I see Luca take his place against a wall opposite us, arms crossed as he watches with unveiled irritation. He wanted to be the one to perform with her while I watched the floor, but Carmela told him no, surprising both me and him. Never mind Mick already axed Luca as an option. Mick isn’t here, and Carmela said if she had to perform, she’d do it with who she wanted.
It’s not an easy feat, tearing my eyes away from the tantalizing dance Carmela is putting on. Just like the other night when I watched her from the shadows, she sways around the pole, showcasing her toned body in a way that makes my mouth water and my cock twitch against the silky fabric of my pants.
As she puts on a show, I think this is all she’ll do, so I let my eyes wander. Martin and Nikolai are wearing wings again, both in the masks they showed me earlier so I could easily recognize them—full-face demon masks that look straight out of the movie 300 .
White flashes in my peripheral, and my head snaps to see an Angel pulling Carmela’s wings off the stage. She’s a petite thing in gold wings with dark hair, and she watches Carmela reverently—like a student watches a beloved teacher.
As if she can feel me watching her, she looks at me, holding my gaze with her bright blue-green eyes while I assess whether she’s a threat. Just as I deem her harmless, she turns her back as a weight suddenly settles in my lap. Carmela winds her arms around my neck as she grinds against me and leans down to whisper, “You know, I don’t think I like it when your eyes are on another woman. You’re supposed to be guarding me like a good doggy, not looking for the next bitch in heat you want to mount.”
“Aww, is someone jealous?” I ask her in the same babyish tone she used with me earlier. My hands find her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as she lifts herself and rolls her body sensually, leaning back as I anchor her to me.
My eyes travel down the stretch of her body. Every bit is bared to me except for the lace patch that runs across her breasts and down her middle. It’s thick enough that I can’t tell if there’s a wet spot between her thighs, but as she draws herself back up, she grabs one of my hands and presses it against her core.
“Tell me you want me,” she whispers, rolling her hips against my fingers.
I snake the other hand around her back to press on her tailbone, gently helping her movements. She grips my shoulder with one hand while moving the lace aside with the other, pressing her wet flesh closer, silently begging for me to sink my fingers into her.
“Where would the fun in that be, baby girl?” A crowd has started to form around us, not large enough to be worried about, but enough that I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes away from this absolute fucking goddess to ensure her safety.
I tease her entrance, swirling my fingertips around her clit before sliding them back down between her slick heat. She angles her hips just right to swallow them up to my first knuckle, and I bite my lip to stifle a groan.
“Oh, I think it would be a lot of fun, smooth guy.” Her hips undulate against me, pulling my fingers deeper with each pass. I use my thumb to press against her clit, fingering her harder as she picks up the pace.
A curse leaves her lips as her head tips back in pleasure. It allows me to sweep the area once more just in time to see someone step forward as if to try and join us. I’m instantly on my feet, adrenaline rushing through me as I hold Carmela to my body. The sudden movement causes my fingers to sink further into her, my thumb pressing against her sensitive bundle of nerves so hard that she comes with a cry as her legs tighten around my waist.
At the same time, Martin and Nikolai appear out of nowhere to grab the guy and haul him away with Luca hot on their heels. Not wanting to alert her, I sit back down, holding her gaze while slowly continuing to move my fingers to bring her down from her release. “What was that?” she asks breathlessly, slumping against my chest.
Gently, I pull my hand from her and make sure the lingerie covers everything it should be. Wiping my fingers on my pants, I maneuver her off me and grab her hand, pulling her through the crowd to wherever the other guys have gone. “Someone uninvited tried to come play.”
Even through the noise, I can hear the little gasp that leaves her mouth. “Really? Do you think it’s him ?”
I don’t answer her as we weave through the different groups and down the hall. As soon as we emerge in the Grand Room, Carmela takes over and leads me wherever she thinks the others have gone.
We approach a room down the same hall as her office. She enters without announcing her presence, and as soon as the door opens screams sound from within. “I swear! All I wanted to do was join in on the fun! That’s all! Let me go!”
Luca has the guy's arm twisted behind his back at an awkward angle that looks seconds away from snapping bone. Tears stream down the guy's face, his high-pitched squeals assaulting my ears. “You know the rules,” Luca booms, “you don’t touch unless you get invited!”
“I was going to ask if I could join! I wasn’t going to touch her, I swear! Besides, she wasn’t wearing wings. I didn’t know, man! I didn’t know!”
Carmela sighs and waves her hand. “Let him go. I recognize him. He’s not who we’re looking for.”
“Are you sure?” Martin asks, eyeing the man skeptically. Nikolai is watching what Luca is doing with interest, his face transparent, like he’s taking mental notes.
“I’m sure,” she reiterates.
Luca lets the man go with a gruff, “You’re on a two-week suspension.”
The man grabs his mask off the table and hightails it out of the room while Nikolai engages Luca in conversation about his technique. The larger man’s eyes are pinned on Carmela, who is rubbing her temple and turning to leave, obviously wanting to call out to her instead of entertaining the assassins.
Earlier, she told me she didn’t like me looking at other women. Watching Luca watch her, I’m beginning to not like how he looks at her.
I reach for her, wrapping my hand around her waist while I wait for Luca’s eyes to find mine. When they do, I hold his gaze, returning his glare tenfold before following Carmela out the door. We walk the hall in silence, and when we reach her office, she leans against the wall and cants her head as she looks up at me.
“Thank you. For tonight. I felt safe the whole time.” Her words are sweet, drifting between us like a sugar-coated cloud. Either she’s genuinely grateful, or she’s completely forgotten how I left her office earlier.
“Good,” is all I can manage in return. I don’t want to break whatever post-orgasm spell she seems to be under.
Seconds pass, both of us clearly struggling for more to say, when finally she opens the door to her office and goes inside, throwing a farewell over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Anders.”
“Yeah. Goodnight, Cara.” The door closes before I finish speaking. With a nod, I return to the other room to debrief the guys.
It isn’t until much later, when I’m back at my hotel and drifting off to sleep, that I realize she avoided my question all night and never told me where she was today.