Chapter 11 #2
“She said: I have a meeting in five. Can I call you back? And then she never did.” I put my hands on Scarlett’s hips, trying not to shy away from the surge of desire that sweeps by when I’m this close to her.
The smell of her, like cherries and chocolate.
The heat in me, a monster to be ashamed of? Or just a normal man?
“That was somehow different than what I expected you to say and also totally fucking fucked up. Jesus Christ, Widow.” Scarlett turns to me, taking my face between her hands. Touching me all over. Drowning me in her heat and her smell. “We’re going to kill her when we’re done, right?”
It just slips out of Scarlett, and she goes very, very still.
Her hands are still on my face, her eyes on mine.
I can see the shine of challenge in them.
She’s laid a trap for Emma Jean, and I already know where this is going because it’s what I’d do, too.
Ask Emma Jean to join her crew. Pay her a salary. Get all the best people.
“All of the things she’s done, I…think she deserves to be killed. That would be justice. It’d be…community service. It’s the right course of action.” Emma draws a pale pink notepad from her pocket and scribbles something down. Sips her coffee. “First though, I’ll commence the interview.”
“If she doesn’t talk, we’re torturing her,” Scarlett adds and Emma looks up suddenly, frowning. “If you understand that, then please, join my crew. Treasure’s mother’s second-cousin’s daughter-in-law is on her way up here to give you a tattoo.”
Emma furrows her brow up, but we’re already done with her. Me and Scarlett. We’ve moved on.
I put my arms around my wife and tug her a little closer. Bohnes watches us with unnerving intensity, like we’re a movie he can’t look away from. Ash is eating his breakfast and eyeing the dishes strewn across the table. Alexei is peering down at Emma’s notebook, reading her writing with a frown.
“Do not write a word about any of us without permission,” he warns her, scooting his chair even further away. His hand trembles as he picks up the plastic-wrapped takeout fork and removes it from its wrapping. He’s really gonna eat, huh?
Too bad I won’t be sticking around to see the attempt.
I stand up and take Scarlett with me. She makes an odd sound, like she didn’t expect that and isn’t totally displeased. I’m holding her like she weighs nothing. It’s not that though. She’s a real woman. Tall. She weighs a lot. I just have no problem holding her.
I smile at her the way I fucking never thought I would smile at a woman.
“We’re talking about your traumas here,” she says, trying to be compassionate in a way I appreciate but don’t need. I ignore her, turning and taking her into the kitchen first and then over to the massive staircase. “You’re not really going to—”
She doesn’t finish that sentence because I do: I carry her up all of the steps and pause on the second floor foyer so that she can see that I’m not breathing very hard.
“Well, now I’m impressed,” she says, getting all fucking flirty with me and running her finger up the side of my neck. Directly over my carotid. It’s a vaguely threatening move, and God help me, but I love it. I adjust my legs, enjoying the way my hard cock rubs against my briefs.
“No, you’re not. You have a type, Scarlett. You expect me to be able to do this or you wouldn’t have looked at me twice.”
“Came for the muscles, stayed for the dick.” She shrugs and I narrow my eyes, ready to fire off a smart remark when she surprises me. “Comitted for the…” Scarlett draws an X shape on my chest with a fingernail.
I almost drop her.
“Are you trying to say you committed yourself to me for my heart?” I try to make a joke out of it. In reality, it’s a big deal to have Scarlett Force, the Scarlett Force, vulnerable in my arms. Sort of. Except for the part where the tip of her nail is still stroking my windpipe.
“Obviously. Was that a question in your mind or are you messing with me?” She gives me an odd look and then wraps all of her fingers around my neck. Not squeezing. Not unless I asked, I think. She licks my jaw and we’re done.
I’m walking as fast as I can down the hallway, kicking the door to the master bedroom open. I can’t say our bedroom yet. That’s so loaded. Our. Our bedroom.
I take us both down to the bed together and she laughs at me for that, throwing her arms around my neck, dragging me in. That’s what’s so nice about being embraced by someone like Scarlett. You get big fucking emotions and grand fucking acts.
“I wish Trish were already dead. I wish I’d taken the sword from Ash’s hand and run her through myself,” she murmurs, biting my ear. “I should pull a Bohnes and gift you her heart.”
My pulse jumps in response to that. Scarlett and I are too close for her not to notice.
I’m on my knees above her, reaching between us to flick my jeans button with a thumb. Scarlett releases my neck and relaxes a little, running both of her palms over my hair. She loves the cut. Loves it.
We’re supposed to go over to the Prescott track today. I don’t care. That can wait.
Scarlett trails one of those hands down my shoulder, my arm. She presses her palm against my bare stomach beneath my shirt. I suck in a sharp breath, flexing against her hand. God. I need this. I need it.
Her eyes and mine. Her hand sliding down my stomach, fingers encircling my cock. I exhale, maintaining eye contact. We’re like scrappy dogs, me and Scarlett. We both want to be the alpha.
“I can’t believe you masturbated to me and Bohnes in the woods, like two days after we met.” That’s what she says to me when she has my dick in her hand. Those fingers tighten to the point of discomfort. I exhale again, my fists curling into the bedspread on either side of her.
This is me, controlling my temper.
“First off, it was five days. And second, I wasn’t watching you. I was following you so I could steal my car back. How was I supposed to know you two were going to be going at it? Walking away to jerk off, that was my own business.” I lower my face to hers, lips just barely brushing.
It’s like torture.
Scarlett relaxes her fingers a little, giving me a nice, firm tug. Impatient. Me, too. We’re both so stubborn though that we’ll make it through the foreplay. Neither of us wants to admit how desperate we are to be wrapped up together.
“Huh.” She nips my lower lip, following up the dangerous brush of ivory with a warm tongue.
I have this incessant image in my head of me mounting her face and fucking her mouth.
My breath is coming quick. Sharp. My hips are working to fuck Scarlett’s fist, slick from my pre-cum.
Not slick enough. “All it did was tell me what I needed to know: here’s a dirty, crazy one. Do not date. Prescott trash.”
I laugh. How dare she?
“When you first walked up to me in the hallway, you know what I was thinking?”
“Fuck, I want that. If it was anything else, don’t tell me.” Scarlett tries to kiss me and I draw back, keeping her in suspense for a minute. Tangling my fingers in her black hair. It’s the darkest I’ve ever seen on another person, like a splash of shadows against the white pillows.
“That, obviously. But also: run, Widow, run.” I press my mouth against hers, my tongue and Scarlett’s meeting in the middle because we can’t stop trying to outdo each other.
“Fair.” She barely gets the word out between kisses. My hips are a little messy against her hand, my mind oddly preoccupied with my mouth. I’ve fucked Scarlett plenty. But just making out? This is almost new for us. We’ve even made love. This is pretty much our last stop on the insanity train.
She stole my car. I attacked her with a knife.
Why is that so hot? I’m undone by that. I can’t help it. I’m finished.
I blow my load in her hand, and the orgasm surprises her so much that she doesn’t catch it. There’s jizz all over the too-big black hoodie that she’s wearing. Bohnes’ hoodie. My lips pull back from my teeth on instinct.
“Widow, wow,” she breathes, and I know what’s coming—pun intended.
She’s going to fuck with me. I deserve it, too.
That was pathetic. “That was so goddamn hot. Take my sweats off and eat me out. Use your fingers to put it back in me when you’re done.
” She gives me this shit-eating, demonic grin and I know I’ll be ready to go again like this.
I love Scarlett, don’t get me wrong. Her character is it.
But she also knows exactly what to do to hook me in bed.
I’m here willingly, but I could’ve been lured in with sex.
My mouth shifts into a smile that’s probably gross to look at. Scarlett recoils like she’s disgusted, but there’s nowhere to hide. I curl my fingers through hers, like we did back at her house that day. I thought we’d made it then except it’s only getting better.
Just one last, stupid barrier to get through. Five conditions. Five items on a checklist.
If not for this, I think we won’t have to worry about being threatened much—if ever—again.
Pretty confident for somebody that’s now embroiled with the mob.
And also prematurely ejaculates, I guess.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, as if she’s genuinely disturbed. “You a creepy stalker like Bohnes?”
“I’m in love with you, like Bohnes,” I repeat back, deadpan, breathing hard.
I’m holding onto her fingers with mine. Her dirty fingers.
This bed is going to be wrecked. I won’t be able to sleep in it, let alone Alexei.
“Stop calling us stalkers when you also had one free chance to run away. It wasn’t just you gifting that to us. It works both ways.”
Scarlett groans and closes her eyes, gathering herself.
“I will overcome my intimacy issues. You are not going to destroy my life. I can relax.” She forces her eyes open and we’re having this moment. It’s like a perfect goddamn moment.
And then the door opens, shattering our shared peace.
There’s a sliver of shadow in the doorway that might be a human being.
It could also be Kellin Bohnes.