3. Bastien
3
BASTIEN
Luca walked into the warehouse in his tactical vest, like he’d just moved product. He talked with the guys across the room before our eyes met, and he joined me at the table.
I sat there, a cigar in my mouth and a cold drink in my hand. It was my first night back on the job. It’d been a long twelve hours, and I still had several more to go. It was the first night that Fleur would be by herself, but I knew she could handle it.
She’d died and come back to life, so she could handle anything.
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s better,” I said after I released the smoke from my mouth.
“And you?”
I gave a shrug. “I’ll get there.”
“Did you work it out, or did she take off?”
“She said she’s not going anywhere.” It was hard not to smile as I said that, proud of my woman for being tough and touched that I was worth fighting for. For most of our relationship, I had done all the chasing, but now she chased me. “She moved in.”
“Yeah?” he asked. “Happy for you.”
“Thanks, man. It’s nice to see you supportive for once.”
“You know I’m protective of you.”
“I’m a grown-ass man and don’t need you to protect me, asshole.” I smirked when I said it, so he knew it was all good between us.
“It’s been quiet. The Aristocrats haven’t made their move.”
“They will. Give it time.”
“Won’t Adrien be their target instead of you?”
“No, they’ll want both of our heads. Adrien crossed them, but I hung Oscar for all the world to see.” And I didn’t regret it. He’d killed my woman, so I burned his ass alive. Didn’t care that his wife was a widow, that his kids wouldn’t have a father. He violated the code—simple as that.
“Maybe we should hit them first, then. Nip this in the bud.”
“Everyone will think I’m a psychopath if I do that.”
“You are a psychopath.”
I smirked. “We need to be diplomatic. Set up a meeting. Give us an opportunity to talk it out before we go nuclear. Everyone needs to see that I’m not a vindicative monster who can’t think straight.”
“Well…you did burn Oscar as he hung on Notre-Dame.”
“That was because he buried my girl alive—and everyone should know what those consequences are.”
“Then I’ll see if they’re receptive to a negotiation,” he said. “Does this negotiation include Adrien?”
I took a drink from my cool glass and finished the last of the scotch. “That fucker is on his own.”
“They’ll kill him for his involvement in this.”
I gave a shrug. “Fine by me.”
“What about Fleur?”
“He’s the reason she almost died, so I don’t think she cares too much.”
He sank back into the chair then lit up his own cigar and released a couple clouds of smoke, enjoying a moment of silence between us, two friends smoking and drinking, what we did best.
“Thanks for covering for me.”
“No one even knew you were gone.”
“Well, don’t do my job too well.”
A little grin moved over his face, but then it was gone when he brought the cigar to his lips. “It’s quiet tonight, and we should appreciate it because I know it’s not going to stay that way. Not when we’ve got a fight on two fronts.”
“We’ve survived this long,” I said. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“But we’ve always known our enemy—and now we don’t.”
I let the cigar sit between my fingertips, the smoke slowly rising to the ceiling.
“Just something we’ve got to remember.”
I was out all night and most of the day. I worked so long that I still came home after Fleur got off work. It was the first time I’d come home and found her already in my house—because it was her house too.
She was on the couch when I walked in, still in her pencil skirt and tucked-in blouse and heels, like she didn’t know what to do in a house that didn’t quite feel like her own. But when I walked through the door, her eyes lit up in a special way, and she looked so damn happy to see me.
She left the couch and walked up to me, five inches taller than normal in those pumps, and her eyes softened with affection and excitement, a look I’d always remember as long as I lived, and kissed me.
She hooked her arms around my neck, and her face was nearly level with mine when she wore those heels. Her tits pressed into my chest, and she kissed me like she’d been thinking about me every moment that we’d been apart.
This was what I’d wanted when I’d asked her to move in, to come home to her every day, to feel my cock harden when I walked in the door knowing she was there, either naked in the shower or in lingerie in the bed or in my t-shirt on the couch. Whatever version was sexy as hell, and I was here for it.
I squeezed her ass in her skirt and kissed her back.
“I missed you, babe.” She spoke between our kisses, saying it in a breathy voice.
I moaned into her mouth because she made me feel so wanted. There were no walls, no insecurities, no reasons to hold me at arm’s length. This was what I wanted the moment I saw her, for us just to fucking be together.
I scooped her into my arms and sat on the couch with her on top of me, wanting her tits in my face, her soft hair against my skin, her pussy on my dick. I yanked her skirt up over her hips then popped open my jeans. In a hurry, we both tugged at our clothing to access each other. She undid the buttons of her blouse so her cleavage was visible in her bra. She pulled my shirt over my head because she liked my chest, liked to touch it and kiss it and look at it.
She guided my length inside her then slowly sank, slowly pushed down over my big dick until her ass touched my balls. She breathed and winced at the size but did it anyway because she was a fucking champ.
She started to rock nice and slow, rising up to my tip and sitting back down on my base, taking her time like she wanted me to enjoy it after a long day.
My hands gripped her ass when it popped out of her skirt. I guided her the way I wanted, each thrust purposeful but easy, like we had all night to fuck. I kissed her chest and nipped at her collarbone, smelling her perfume and then her sweat because she did all the work to fuck me.
I got to enjoy it, watch her fuck me like she’d been thinking about it all day.
I unbuttoned her blouse the rest of the way and helped her out of it before I unclasped her bra, letting her perfect tits come free, little nipples on plump tits, firm and perky, nicest pair of tits I’d ever seen.
She started to move faster, riding my dick harder as she arched her back and came down on my length, moving like a seductress who was about to steal my soul. She ran her fingers over her chest, leaned back to make her tits tilt to the sky, smeared my length in her cream that was thicker than the milk in her morning coffee.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” I worshipped her body with my stare, with my big hands, wanting to come inside that little pussy because it was all mine. I didn’t thrust up to meet her movements, sat still and let her fuck me like I’d paid for it. She was so fucking good at it, so confident and sexy, like she knew what I wanted the moment I walked through the door.
“I wanted to show my appreciation.” She reached her hand behind her and played with my balls as she continued to ride me, making me inhale a sharp breath at her touch. “For everything you’ve done for me…”
My fingers dug into her ass, and I felt my cock twitch inside her because I’d never been this fucking hard in my life. It was like a taunt, watching me try to hold it together while she was a fucking fantasy. “Sweetheart…”
“Come inside me.”
I sucked in a breath through my teeth. “Jesus.”
“It turns me on.” She exaggerated her movements, taking my length all the way to the base before she rose up again, her palms planted on my chest, her tits fucking amazing. “I like to feel it.”
I couldn’t keep it together, not after she teased me and fucked me the way I liked. She was paradise, and my dick didn’t want to leave. When I fucked whores, I never cared about their pleasure. But if I was with a woman I met at a bar or on the street, I stepped up and acted like a gentleman. Now that I was in the first real relationship of my life, it felt wrong to shoot my bullet before she shot hers. But she had me by the balls—literally—and I was too weak to fight it.
So I felt the heat swallow me whole, and I felt my gun fire off an entire clip of bullets. My eyes were on hers, seeing her cheeks flush in arousal as she watched me come inside her. My hands squeezed her cheeks before I tugged her at the speed I wanted, taking her harder until my final pumps were finished.
I was winded, though I hadn’t moved, winded because she took the breath straight out of my lungs. I was fucking obsessed with this woman, and I was relieved that I didn’t have to hide it anymore. That she seemed just as thoroughly obsessed with me.
No surprise that my dick was still hard when it was sheathed inside her, when the perkiest tits were against my chest, the greenest eyes locked on mine like I was the man she should have married in the first place.
She rocked herself slowly, like she could feel the come between our bodies, her neck bright red like that really did turn her on. She moved into me and kissed me, slow and sexy kisses, her hips still grinding against me. “Now it’s my turn.”
She seemed to be feeling better because she’d gone to work and then fucked my brains out when I came home, so I took her out to dinner. Just because we lived together now didn’t mean I would stop doing those things.
Besides, I wanted to show her off.
I knew every man looked at her and wished he were the one nailing her.
But that privilege was all fucking mine.
She sipped her water before she looked at the menu, wearing an oversized sweater as a dress with thigh-high black boots. She was probably trying to be casual, but it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen her wear.
I’d have to fuck her again when we got home.
“What are you getting?” she asked.
“The chicken.”
“Still cutting back on the red meat?”
I gave a shrug. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Good for you for getting checked out,” she said. “And good for you for caring. I need you to live a long time.”
My parents used to fight about my father’s cholesterol levels all the time. My father would always dismiss my mother’s concerns, probably because he knew he was more likely to die from a bullet than a heart attack. “It runs in the family, so…”
She gave a slight nod in understanding.
The waiter came over to take our order, and I stuck to my roasted chicken, while she got a salad and a soup. She’d been eating very little the last week, and she seemed to be continuing that streak.
“You didn’t have to go back to work.” I’d told her boss she would be unavailable for a while. If he didn’t like it, it wasn’t like he could voice it. Not when I could fire him—or worse.
Her mood dampened noticeably. “I had to get out of the house.”
“You could have gone to yoga or shopping…better options.”
“I don’t do yoga.”
She could bend in all sorts of ways, a hot pretzel underneath me, so I’d assumed she’d been doing yoga all her life. “Fooled me.”
“And I don’t need to go shopping.”
“I’ve never heard a woman say that.”
She chuckled slightly, my words lifting her spirits a little bit.
I wanted her happy, soaring with the clouds, her smile big and infectious. But I knew it would take time to get there. “You don’t need to work at all, sweetheart. It’s not like you have rent.”
“I broke my lease, so I still have to pay it until a new tenant comes in?—”
“I already took care of it.” I’d paid her landlord for the next six months. That was more than enough time for him to find a replacement.
She stared at me blankly for a few seconds. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’re my woman. You’re my responsibility.”
“I don’t want to be a responsibility.”
“It’s a privilege to have you as a responsibility.”
She shifted her eyes away, desperately trying to be angry, but I could tell she wasn’t.
“You don’t need to work.”
Her eyes came back to me. “But I like working.”
I smirked as the laugh inched into my throat. “No, you don’t.” She hated going to work in the morning. She never complained about the work itself, but she didn’t have anything good to say about it either. Didn’t blame her. The idea of sitting behind a computer all day sounded mindless and boring.
“I mean, I like working for my own money.”
“What do you need money for?”
“Food, clothing, essentials?—”
“I provide all of that.”
She released a sigh, a little smile on her lips. “That’s sweet, Bastien. Really, it is. But when I said I didn’t want you for your money, I meant it.”
“And I believe you.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I don’t mind working.”
“You didn’t work with Adrien.”
“Well, that was different.”
“How?” I was used to barking orders and having people obey, and it was frustrating when I couldn’t apply that to her. Most women would be happy to let a man take care of them, but she chose to be difficult about it, and it was starting to piss me off.
She hesitated before she answered. “We were married…”
I knew I would marry her someday, so I didn’t see why she couldn’t rely on me now. Her yearly income wasn’t even equivalent to a penny of mine. “You said you were in this with me. You said you wouldn’t leave even if I asked you to.”
“And I meant that, Bastien.”
“Then let me take care of you.” It would be different if she were passionate about her job and it meant something to her, but working as an assistant to some suit was not fulfilling. “My woman should not be working—unless it means something to her. I know for a fact this job is just a means to an end—means you no longer need.”
Her eyes moved out the window, and she sighed. “I don’t want to fight.”
“We aren’t fighting.”
“What about you? Do you like working?”
I smiled because the question was ridiculous. “You think I still need money?” She’d seen my house, seen the funds that my investment company earned, billions of dollars. And she thought I was a slave to the clock? “I’m in the game because I was born in it, and I’ll die in it. Because the power and the adrenaline give me a fucking rush like nothing else—not even you.”
She stared at me for a while before she grabbed her water and took another drink.
My stare was locked on her face like a laser from a sniper.
She was in an invisible corner with nowhere to go, but she still tried to find a way out.
“When I asked you to move in with me, I asked you to be the woman of the house. The woman who waits for me to come home. The woman on my arm for every dinner and social event. The woman who is mine in every sense of the fucking word.” I didn’t raise my voice, but I felt the raw frustration burn in my chest. “I want to take care of you—so let me do my fucking job.”
“I said I don’t want your money?—”
“I understand,” I snapped. “But I want to give it to you anyway, so just let me.”
We’d been arguing for so long that the waiter arrived with our food. He placed the dishes in front of us, probably aware of the tension that was tighter than a taut rope because he didn’t say a word before he walked off.
She looked down at her food but didn’t seem interested in it. “Maybe we should have talked about this before I moved in.”
“You should have assumed all of this before you moved in. What is the problem, Fleur?”
She was quiet for a while, her eyes still on her plate so she wouldn’t have to look at me. “The last time I was financially dependent on a man, he cheated on me and I had to start over with nothing. No education or resources or?—”
“You might as well just slap me in the fucking face.”
She lifted her gaze to look at me. “My feelings have nothing to do with you, Bastien.”
“You were left with nothing because you refused to take half of the estate, which you were fully entitled to. Let’s not forget that.”
“He was the one who built all that wealth.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter, Fleur. And your feelings do have to do with me, because right now, in this fucking moment, you’re with me, not him, and you don’t trust me. You don’t trust that this relationship will be different from your last one.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you?—”
“Then prove it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing the fabric of her sweater as she stared at the food we probably wouldn’t eat. “Okay.” She lifted her chin and looked at me, her eyes still timid. “I’ll quit.”
It was what I wanted, but not in the way I wanted it. I didn’t want to have to fight for it.
“I don’t want to fight. I’m so happy with you.”
My anger still burned beneath the surface, a simmer after the boil.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I trust you more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
My anger started to ebb, to slowly dissipate because I could hear her sincerity.
“I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re rich or because you’re powerful.”
My eyes narrowed on her face.
But she didn’t seem to have any idea what she’d just revealed to me, like her feelings were so second nature she didn’t even register her words. “And the last thing I ever want you to think is I’m with you for the wrong reasons. Because if you lived in my old apartment and could only afford to take me to McDonald’s, I’d be perfectly fine with that.”
She really had no fucking idea what she’d just said. It was so far compartmentalized that she didn’t see the truth even when it stared at her right in the face. I couldn’t fight the grin that moved over my lips. The anger was long gone when I heard the words directly out of her mouth, words that Adrien had shared with me first without remembering it.
“What?” she asked, the confusion in her features fully sincere.
“Nothing.”
Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine like she knew that wasn’t the truth.
I changed the subject before she could ask me for a better answer. “All I want is for us to be together fully and completely—and you’ve finally given that to me.”