Chapter 2
SABLE
"You really think we should get out of here, don't you?" I whispered as I slipped down beside Woody on the couch.
The cleanup crew had just left. Only a guy replacing the door remained.
They were efficient, I had to give them that. They'd swept in, piled the bodies into bags, cleaned up the floor, and left. They could have been doing nothing more unusual than a cleanup in aisle three. Mopping up dropped ice cream before someone stepped in it, slipped and sued the store.
Now, if you stepped into the corridor, you'd never know three men died there. No one could slip in the blood and sue Forrest. Bonus.
Not surprising, none of the men carried ID, just themselves and a gun. Not even a phone between them. Forrest suggested they left at home, wherever that was, or tossed it away before they entered the building. Chances were, we'd never find it.
"You don't think we should hide?" Woody asked, sitting with his arms stretched across the back of the couch.
"I don't know," I admitted. I let out a long breath through my nose. "I'm trying to remember back when my life was normal, but I can't," I said. "I feel like nothing has ever been normal. How do I carry on like normal if I don't know what normal is?"
He frowned briefly. "I don't know. I think maybe mine was relatively ordinary before my half-sister disappeared."
"What was she like?" I asked. If he didn't want me to pry, he'd tell me to my face. If he wanted to share, he would.
"Bethany?" He glanced over at me before looking over toward the window. "She was mouthy, like you. Smart as fuck. She never took shit from anyone, not even me." He blinked slowly, a hint of grief in his eyes. "She was the best of us. Me, her and Mom."
"She must have been special," I said. "You never had a clue what happened to her?"
"Clues? Kinda," he said slowly. "Ideas but no proof."
"You think your father had something to do with it?" I knew he didn't want to consider the possibility. He'd had an uneasy relationship with his father, from what I gathered. They weren't close, but Wolfgang was still his flesh and blood.
You know what they say, though. You can pick your nose, but you can't pick your family. Or something like that.
"I wondered but I wasn't sure. Until I met you.
" Woody turned his face to look at me. "I'm starting to understand.
He was a bigger asshole than I thought he was.
I used to think he was disappointed in me.
Like nothing I could do would be enough for him.
Now I get it. It wasn't about me. It was about him. He was a prick."
"Yes, he was." I couldn't argue with that. Wolfgang was all of that and more.
"I make more sense," Woody continued. "Who else would have an asshole like me for a son, except another asshole?"
"You're not an asshole," I told him. I hated that that was the conclusion he'd come to. My parents were assholes too, but I turned out okay. Sort of.
He scoffed. "We both know that's not true. I practically put the ass into hole. What happened at the senator's place? It shouldn't have happened." He didn't need to explain what he was referring to.
"I don't remember us having a choice," I said carefully.
"There's always a choice." He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "I could have told him no. I should have said, ‘go fuck yourself’."
"What would have happened then?" I asked. "He would have had you killed." He would have blown his cover.
"I'm not that easy to kill," he said.
"You're that easy to kill if you're outnumbered five to one, and four of them have guns," I insisted. "I know you're a badass, but they would have overpowered you. Then, what would have happened if you were dead?"
"That prick would have forced himself on you." His jaw set angrily.
"Exactly. Better that it was you fucking me, not him raping me," I said. "I have some mad skills, but they don't include taking on five armed men by myself. I didn't have a lock-pick either."
"Do you know how to use one?" he asked.
"As a matter of fact…" I raised my finger in front of my face, lowered it again and added, "No."
"I'm going to teach you," he said, "I'm going to teach you how to pick locks, and use a gun so you don't hurt yourself. A knife too, and how to strangle someone with a necktie."
"You're going to teach me how to kill?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do." He nodded. "Let Leif and Forrest live their lives. You and I, we're going down into the basement, and I'm going to teach you everything I know about surviving. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to save yourself, even if I try to kill you again."
"Is that something you're planning to do?" I asked. That seemed like the kind of thing a girl should know.
"No, but it never hurts to be prepared," he said. "I might pretend someday. Just to see how well you've learned." He pointed a finger gun at me. "You should be prepared."
"I'm not sure you surprise someone by giving them warning in advance, but I appreciate it," I said. "I'd like to learn all of those things." I hated hiding behind the bed, being vulnerable.
"I took forks in there and I didn't even use them." I grimaced.
"What were you going to do?" he asked, the corners of his mouth tilting up. "Stab someone in the ass?"
"Ass, cock, foot." I shrugged. "Any of those would have been effective." Not against someone with a gun. We both knew that. A fork would have been no help at all.
"Yeah, but it wasn't necessary; we took care of them before they got anywhere near you."
"I know, and I appreciate that," I said. "I still don't like feeling helpless."
He placed a hand on my knee. "You won't. But… I don't know how you don't hate me for what happened."
I put my hand over his. "You're going to have to elaborate. A few things have happened between us. Was it the first attempt to kill me? The second? Or something else?"
He smirked. "All of the above. I meant fucking you. I promised I wouldn't do it until I was worthy."
"Maybe you were worthy," I suggested.
He regarded me for a moment. "Maybe," he finally said, reluctant. "Does this mean we can fuck whenever we want to?"
I made a show of thinking about that carefully. "It just might."
He squeezed my knee before turning his hand around and wrapping his fingers around mine. He rose to his feet and pulled me to mine before leading me over to the bedroom Forrest let him use.
This place had several of them. It was the size of a house. A big one. A person could get lost if they tried hard enough.
He glanced back as the man finished installing the new door. Forrest thanked him before closing and locking it behind him. He gave us a long look before Woody closed the bedroom door, shutting us in alone.
"It wasn't that long ago," Woody said slowly, sliding his hands up the front of my shirt, "he wouldn't have let us be alone."
"No, he wouldn't." I gripped the front of his shirt and pulled his mouth to mine. "You would have strangled me."
"No, I wouldn't," he grumbled. "I hate strangling people. It hurts my hands."
"Poor baby," I said with a laugh.
"I'll give you poor fucking baby." He pressed me over to the bed and pushed me down in the middle. His fingers wrapped around my wrists, he pinned them above my head and straddled my hips. He regarded me for a long moment. "I'm not sure Forrest is wrong. I probably shouldn't be alone with you."
"Probably not," I agreed. "Are you going to fuck me or are we going to talk about it?"
"You're going to drive me crazy, woman." He leaned in and ran his tongue up my neck, over my throat, and nibbled at my chin, his stubble rough against my skin.
"Some would suggest it's too late for that," I said with a laugh.
He snorted, "Whoever some are, they can get fucked, like you're going to." He pushed his hands back under my shirt, rucking it up to my chest. He kissed his way down to my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple, before he drew it in between his lips and started to suck.
"We agreed it's wrong to want to fuck your former stepmother, didn't we?" he asked between sucks.
"I think we decided it was okay," I said, my back arching to meet his mouth.
I'd never known him as my stepson anyway, so I didn't feel anything weird in us having a relationship. It wasn't as though I raised him or anything. I didn't even know he existed until that relation was severed. To me, he was one of my men. Dare I say, one of my boyfriends?
Let people think it was salacious. The only opinions that mattered were ours.
"That's a bummer," he said, eyeing me sideways. "I was hoping this was naughty."
"If you want to think of it as naughty, go ahead," I said. "Am I supposed to scold you?"
"No, you're supposed to scream my name when I make you come," he said.
He grabbed the waistband of the oversized pair of track pants I wore and pushed them down my hips. They slid off my legs easily, letting me kick them aside.
I'd taken some time to order new clothes. They would be delivered in the morning. As cute as it was to walk around in Forrest's things, I needed some of my own, especially underwear.
He pressed his hands between my thighs, opening them, then grazing his knuckles over my pussy.
"I think I can manage to scream your name when I come," I said. "Touch me there again."
"Can I taste you?" Apparently, he'd caught on to the same thing Leif had; my need to be in control. To call the shots, instead of being told what to do and expected to obey.
"Please," I said softly.
He gave me a look, one side of his mouth raised.
Now it was my turn to take a moment to catch on. "Get down between my legs and taste me," I insisted.
His eyes darkened. "Fuck yeah."
He scooted down the bed, hooked his arms under my thighs, and lifted me up, bringing my pussy to his mouth. He slid his tongue up and down my seam, from my clit to my rear hole, and back again. "Fucking delicious."
He started to devour me, pulling my clit between his lips and sucking. His hands pressed against my stomach, warm and firm. He didn't say a word, didn't tell me I couldn't come, he just went on working me, until I lost all control, shattering against his mouth.
"Yes, yes, just like that," I panted. "Right there, don't stop, don't…
Yes." I tipped over the edge, plunging down a waterfall of bliss.
The sensation swamped all of my senses, crowding my brain and making my heart race.
He went on licking and sucking until I came back down to earth, blinking to clear my vision.
"Come up here and fuck me," I told him, my breathing still ragged. I rolled over onto all fours and looked at him over my shoulder.
He didn't hesitate to shed his clothes and kneel behind me, gripping my hips carefully. He guided the tip of his cock to my entrance and pushed inside.
"You feel so fucking good," he whispered. "I hope you know you're mine," he said. "So mine."
"I know," I whispered back. "You're mine too."
"Hell yeah, I am."
He slid a hand over my belly and cupped my breast, kneading it while he moved in and out of me. Our bodies slapped together, the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy.
"Even though you haven't reached your tally," I added, laughing softly.
He paused for a moment, before muttering, "Fucking tally," and thrusting harder, deeper, pulling out of me and slamming all the way back in.
I smiled to myself and rolled my hips back against him until he lost his own control, coming apart as he came inside me, spilling his release into my body. His cum trickled out and down my thighs as he slid his cock out.
"You're addictive," he said accusingly.
I rolled over onto my ass and smiled at him.
"So are you." It might be pure insanity, but I was falling for this man.
"Good, because I need another taste." He shuffled back down the bed, his face between my legs again.