2. Bastien
Chapter 2
Bastien
The SUV pulled into the warehouse, and I left the back seat and entered the rear of the building. The double doors were open to the next room, the processing facility where we organized all the taxes paid by the dealers in the city.
Cash was everywhere, stacked on tables, workers dropping piles into automatic machines that counted the bills digitally, while guards paced the room with rifles in case anyone slipped a bill into their pocket.
When I entered the room, everyone paused what they were doing to sneak a glance.
I pretended not to notice.
I headed into the next room, where Luca sat with some of the guys, his laptop open on the table. Poker chips were in the center, and it looked like they were playing a hand rather than getting shit done.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked when I walked in. “You know taxes are due on the first.”
Luca looked away from his cards. “I can’t do shit until they’re done. You know that.”
“They should have been finished hours ago.”
“Well, some of the payments were behind.”
“Did you take care of it?” I asked.
“I got the money.”
“You know what I mean.”
Luca nodded to the other guys, telling them to leave.
They filed out of the room and got back to work.
“Bastien, we don’t have to cut off a hand every time someone gets out of line.”
“I disagree.”
“Being a couple hours late isn’t a big deal. Shit happens.”
“What shit?” I demanded.
“The big storm delayed the shipments. You know this. We’re gonna chop people’s hands off because of the weather?”
I grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat at the head of the table. The cards were still there, so I swiped my arm across the table and sent them flying.
Luca watched me in silence for a while. “What the hell happened?”
“If we got the money, then nothing happened.”
“No. What happened to you?” He gave me a glance over. “When did you become the world’s biggest asshole?”
“I’ve always been the world’s biggest asshole.”
“We disagree on a lot of things, but you’ve never been an asshole. So what the fuck happened?”
I gave a slight shake of my head then took a drink.
He arrived at the conclusion on his own after he gave it a couple minutes of thought. “So, the baggage was too heavy after all.”
“Shut up, Luca.”
“I fucking told you?—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled so loud that it went silent in the other room, everyone stopping their work because they thought bullets would start to fly. Even Luca flinched at the ire I expressed.
All those times Fleur had thought I yelled at her…she had no fucking idea.
Luca was quiet for a long time, his elbows on the table. “You know you’re my boy. You can talk to me.”
“I’m good.”
“I’m serious.”
I drank my beer, unsatisfied with it because it was so fucking weak.
“Tell me what happened.”
“No.”
Luca gave a sigh. “I’m sorry for the shit I said before. You can talk to me.”
“No, you were right,” I said. “First time I actually give a shit about a woman, and she doesn’t trust me and she’s scared of me.”
“Scared of you?” he asked incredulously.
I gave a slight shake of my head. “She’s scared of me and my world—even though her worthless ex is a part of it too. I’ve never put this much effort into a woman and received nothing back. Fucking bullshit, man.”
He was quiet for a while. “To be fair…she was married for three years, and she’s been single for two months. Shit is still raw.”
I turned on him.
“That is not me saying I’m right. It’s just me giving her a little bit of grace. What are the odds that the guy she saw in the bar is the Butcher? She just wanted some good dick, and she got a criminal kingpin who’s been obsessed with her since the moment he saw her. She probably thought it was a one-night stand, and it’s turned into a complicated relationship she wasn’t looking for. It’s a lot.”
“I thought you didn’t like her.”
“I never said I didn’t like her. I can’t dislike someone I don’t know. This is kinda your fault for continuing to expect something that she’s said she’s not ready for—multiple times. You’re used to getting your way because you make shit happen. You can’t do that with a woman. It can’t be what you want just because you want it.”
I said nothing to that, not wanting to admit he was probably right.
“How long has it been since you last spoke to her?”
“Couple days.”
“She hasn’t said anything?”
She hadn’t texted me, and I refused to text her ever again. “No.”
“Then it sounds like whatever it was is over.”
“Yeah…I guess it is.” I wouldn’t fight for her anymore. I’d told her if she didn’t meet me halfway, I was gone—so I was gone. There was no looking back.
At that moment, my phone lit up with a text—from her.
I looked at the screen, staring at her name for a couple seconds before I looked at the message below.
Can we talk?
It wasn’t the message I wanted to see, so I felt my nostrils flare in annoyance. I should just ghost her to show her how little she could mean to me when she was on my bad side, but some inexplicable obligation made me write back. No .
Luca watched me the whole time, watched me slide the phone back into my pocket. “What was that about?”
“Martin. Just wants to make sure the deposit will be ready tomorrow.”
He continued to watch me, his eyes suspicious like he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t call me out on it.
The SUV pulled up to the house and stopped at the curb.
I made the call and listened to the phone ring several times before he finally picked up.
He spoke in a raspy voice, like he’d been dead asleep when the phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize because he didn’t have my direct line, but he answered it anyway because he knew a call in the middle of the night was important. “What is it?”
“Meet me outside.”
There was a pause over the line. He didn’t ask who I was, like he fucking knew exactly who was calling.
“Don’t come out, and I’ll break through like last time.” I hung up and left the car. The gates in front of his property had been repaired, and the guard on duty stared at me from the other side, motionless in fear like he remembered me from last time. “Open it.”
He didn’t move an inch, quickly accessing the situation and his options.
“Don’t make me pull out my gun.”
He moved to the door and hit the button. The gates opened.
I walked onto the property and stopped at the bottom of the stairs near the double doors that led into the house. I wasn’t sure how long it would take for Adrien to do his hair and makeup, so I lit up a cigar and enjoyed the cool night air against my skin.
He came out a moment later in his sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, his hair fucked up from sleeping on one side for so long. Hesitation was in his eyes, like meeting me at three in the morning was the last thing he wanted to do.
But at least he’d come out like a man instead of making me hunt him down like a rat.
When he got close, I blew the smoke from my cigar right in his face.
He tried his best not to react to the sting of the smoke, but his eyes watered.
“Be a man and give her the fucking divorce. You stuck your dick in other people—so it’s over. Drag it out for twenty years, and she still won’t take you back. That woman was too good for you even before you cheated, and we both fucking know it.”
He stayed several feet back, arms by his sides, his eyes tired from being jerked awake in the middle of the night.
“And if you interfere in our relationship again, I’ll cut off a finger and make you choose which one.”
“She deserved to know who you are.”
“And she deserved to know who you are, but you failed to tell her. But don’t worry about it. I let her know. I let her know that the Aristocrats have wanted you dead for a long time. And something tells me they’re getting close in their search.”
His face was already pale, but it managed to dim.
I pulled out the cigar and flicked it in his face.
He jerked as the ashes sprayed him. “Jesus.”
I watched him brush the ash off his sweats then step on the cigar to make sure it was out. “She’s the reason you’re still alive—if you’re wondering.”
I’d just finished a workout at home when she called. It was almost eight in the evening, but I’d skipped my morning workout because I had too much shit on my plate. I stared at her name on the screen and watched it ring, my thumb tempted to hit the green button and take the call, but I didn’t.
I let it go to voice mail.
I wasn’t sure if she would leave a message, but it was best if she didn’t because I would delete it without bothering to listen to it. My temper had flared, and now it burned everything. She was the last person I expected to make me this angry.
Whenever she called or texted in the past, I always answered her in seconds. I proved that she was a priority over everything else, a privilege no one else had. She must have realized what she’d had—and, hopefully, what she’d lost.
She didn’t leave a message.
She didn’t call again.
I left the phone on the bathroom counter then stepped into the shower. I suspected that was the last time she would contact me. Our white-hot burning passion burst in a crescendo and then turned straight to ash. If I weren’t so pissed off, that fact might bother me more, but she’d offended me, a man who wasn’t easily offended.
I stepped out of the shower and did a quick towel-dry before I looked at my phone again, wondering if she’d texted whatever she wanted to say. That was the only way for her to get her message across when I refused to speak to her.
But there was nothing from her.
Instead, I had a text from Gerard. Fleur is downstairs in the parlor. Shall I send her upstairs?
I read the message at least twice, feeling the sudden tension in my chest. I hadn’t expected her to show up at my house like that. Honestly, I was a bit impressed that she cared enough to fight. With all the times she’d tried to run from me, I was surprised she was the one doing the chasing. Tell her to go home.
I put on my boxers and sweatpants before I stepped into the sitting room. I would spend the evening alone and watch the game, just me and a cool glass of scotch. That was how I’d spent my free time since she’d dumped me in Jules Verne. I wasn’t sad she was gone, not when I was still this angry about it.
Gerard texted me again. She said you’ll have to throw her out yourself.
I read the message twice, hearing her sass in my head. As if a pail of water had been dumped on my head, the flames of rage were doused for a second before they returned weaker than before.
What would you like me to do, sir?
My heart started to beat a little harder, and I hated that. I hated the way she made me burn in both good and bad ways. I hated the fact that I was actually hard knowing she was there to get me back, that she was there to fight for me like I’d fought so fucking hard for her. “What the fuck is it about this woman?” She was beautiful, but so were all the others. She had great tits and a fine ass, but Paris was the mecca for women like that. I didn’t believe in forgiveness or second chances, but there I was, feeling my anger slip through my fingers. Send her up . I typed the message without a second thought and hit send before I changed my mind.
I left my phone on the coffee table and sat in the armchair that faced the door, my elbow propped on the armrest, my fingers against my jawline, staring at the door as I waited for her to walk up three flights of stairs or take the elevator to my floor.
My heart rate was always steady in the tensest situations because I didn’t register fear or anxiety like most people did. It was the calm that made me uncomfortable.
Her footsteps were audible outside the door. She stopped before she turned the knob, taking a second before she entered the monster’s den. She better have something good rehearsed, because I was the judge you didn’t want to rule on your case. My patience was minimal and my sympathy nonexistent.
She found the courage to step inside, in black jeans and boots, a gray sweater that exposed one shoulder. She didn’t carry herself with the confidence she’d held at the bar when she served assholes like me. She was the one who had come to me, but she moved so slowly and quietly, it was like she didn’t want me to notice her.
She closed the door behind her before her eyes found me in the armchair by the fire. We exchanged a long stare, her green eyes showing her intimidation. As if my anger was a ring of fire that surrounded me, she stayed clear of the flames.
I refused to speak first, so I stared her down and waited. My expression must have been severe because she still didn’t say anything, like she was contemplating abandoning the mission and fleeing instead.
She took a breath before she approached the sitting area. “I’m sorry…”
I stared at her for several long seconds, expecting a hell of a lot more than that. “You’re sorry?”
Her eyes were different, timid in fear, a bit wet from emotion.
“That’s it?”
“I’ve never seen you look like that.”
“Because you’ve never seen me mad.” I rose from the armchair.
She immediately flinched, like I would cross the room and break her neck.
I moved around the back of the couch and drew near, but not close enough for her to reach out and touch me, at least ten feet of distance between her hand and my heart. “You came all the way up here, and that’s the best you’ve got?” My arms hung by my sides, and I looked at her with a mixture of rage and disappointment, pissed off at myself for being hard at the sight of her, for wanting to stick my dick in her mouth while she said how damn sorry she was.
She breathed hard, like she’d forgotten that I was a terrifying man you didn’t want to cross. “I’m sorry?—”
“For what?” I clapped my hands together hard, making a sound so loud it could have shattered the windows. “What the fuck are you sorry for?—”
“I’m sorry that I got scared. I’m sorry that I let the worst thoughts get the best of me. I’m sorry that I said I didn’t want to see you anymore.” Her eyes watered further, on the verge of a flood of tears. “God, I don’t want to lose you…” The tears spilled over and streaked down her cheeks like liquid diamonds.
I inhaled a slow breath, feeling the fuel of my flames begin to die down.
“I was scared, but a one-week trial with your ghost has shown me there are worse things to be afraid of.” Her eyes remained wet, and new tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Only a truly beautiful woman could cry like that and still look breathtaking. My resentment began to slip from my grasp because my fingers turned soft on the rope. “I told you you’re either with me or I’m gone. You made your choice. We didn’t even make it past the first course before you dumped me. I’ve never had to work so hard for a woman just to watch her walk away. Do I look like a man who puts up with that shit?”
They were just tears at first, but her breaths changed as she tried to stop crying.
I was a sick fuck because I liked it. I liked watching her finally show me her damn cards. Finally show me what I meant to her. That she was wrapped around my goddamn finger just the way I was wrapped around hers. That we were in this together whether she liked it or not. “I told you I don’t believe in second chances.”
She moved into me, her forehead resting against my chin with her face pressed into my neck. Her hands moved to my arms, and she gripped the muscles like I might push her off. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Her warm breaths blanketed my skin as she spoke. Her voice was cracked from the pain in in. Her fingertips trembled slightly against my flesh like she feared this was the end. “Please don’t make me go.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled a slow breath, feeling a surge of arousal I’d never felt in my life. I’d had good sex, desired beautiful women, explored everything there was to explore. But none of those experiences compared to how I felt now, elicited by this single woman. All I wanted was for her to want me with the intensity that I wanted her.
I slid my hand into her hair, and I forced her head back to look at me.
Her eyes were still wet and dripping in fear, afraid of what I would say next.
“Are you in this with me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m a dangerous man in a dangerous business, and that’s never going to change. I am who I am, and if you want me, you need to accept me. You need to accept that I want all of you to myself, that I don’t want to share you or be shared, that I want more than just something casual and easy. I want you to be my woman, I want commitment, I want something more than a week or a month or a year. Maybe forever. Don’t forget you aren’t the only one who’s got a heart on the line. Don’t forget you aren’t the only one who’s risking something. I’ve never done this before, but I know I want to do it with you. Those are my terms. So, if any of that is disagreeable to you, then get out now and don’t waste my fucking time.”
The tears stopped, but pools of emotion were still in her eyes. She cupped my jaw, and she rose on her tiptoes like a ballerina to get as close to me as possible, bending over backward to accommodate me the way I’d bent my back so many times. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
This woman cast a fucking spell over me because the anger evaporated with the wave of her hand. I should still be livid right now, make her work harder for my pardon, but all I wanted to do was take her to bed and forget the whole thing. I could read people so well no one ever wanted to play poker with me because I cleaned house every single time, and right now, I could read her sincerity like words rather than emotions. The glow in her eyes was as brilliant as the northern lights, ethereal and beautiful. She wore her heart on her sleeve and didn’t try to hide her hand from me. She’d finally put her cards on the table and folded. Maybe it would be different this time, maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, I was all in. I’d been all in for this woman the second I’d had her. I’d known it was different when I’d left that note after our first night together. With another woman, I would have walked out and never seen her again. But with Fleur, I’d absolutely wanted to see her again.
Why? I had no fucking idea.
I fisted her hair hard as I kept her face on mine. “Show me how sorry you are, sweetheart.” I’d wanted to shove my dick into her mouth the second she walked in the door. Wanted to fuck her even in my hottest rage. The magnetism that pulled me to her was impervious to all forms of destruction. “Show me how certain you are.” My hand left her hair, and I stepped around her, moving to the armchair by the fireplace before I sat down, my feet bare on the rug, my naked chest feeling the warmth from the flames.
She came around the chair and looked down at me, still fully dressed in her jeans and sweater.
I stared her down and waited for her to make the first move.
Her eyes were still wet, but now that she had a chance to get me back, her tears had ceased. She pulled the gray sweater over her head, revealing a black bra underneath with a single strap. She reached behind her and unclasped it, the material falling to reveal her perfect tits.
I’d missed those tits. The nipples were hard, probably because she was nervous and her skin was cold with her back to the fire. I propped my arm on the armrest, and I touched my jawline as I watched the show from the front row.
She unbuttoned her black jeans then stepped out of her boots, returning to her normal height of a mere five feet. She was a petite little thing. I usually preferred taller women because it was nice not to bend my neck down all the time, but her small stature didn’t bother me at all. She was fucking perfect.
When her boots were gone, she pulled off her tight jeans and revealed the little black thong underneath, just a G-string, like she’d put it on in the hope I would see it this evening. She left the thong on before she lowered to her knees in front of me.
I was so fucking hard.
She reached for the waistband of my sweatpants then tugged to get them off.
I lifted my hips to help her, watching her reaction to my rock-hard dick.
She tugged everything to my ankles then inched closer, tits at my knees, looking absolutely fuckable in the glow of the fire. She moved her hands up my thighs before she dipped her head to my lap and started at my balls.
I took an involuntary breath because her lips were so fucking nice on my sac.
She kissed my balls like they were my lips, licked them like they were my dick, and then gently sucked one ball into her mouth and played with it with her tongue.
I closed my eyes for a second as I enjoyed it.
She took her time, like she wasn’t in a rush to get me off and move to the next thing. She made it last, like she wanted to be on her knees with my dick in her face. She moved up to my length, parted her lips and flattened her tongue, and then slowly pushed my dick to the back of her throat. She pushed farther than she had before, as if taking as much of my dick as possible was part of her apology. She stilled like she already wanted to gag but held it off like a champ. She moved up and down, slow and steady, making it clear she wanted me to enjoy the journey rather than rush to the finish.
I watched her move up and down, watched her suck my dick as deep as her throat would allow, watched new tears slowly build up in her eyes because of the discomfort from my size. Her soft fingers played with my balls at the same time, giving head so good it was like she was getting paid for it.
My breaths started to accelerate, and I felt the flush in the skin across my chest. Felt the burn in my core because the pleasure was so damn good. I hadn’t felt anything but anger this past week, so I hadn’t noticed the drought, but now that she ate my dick like a buffet, I realized how much I missed it. “Look at me.”
Her eyes moved to mine as she continued to lick her favorite lollipop, pushing far back before she rose up again, always slightly breathless because her opportunities to breathe were limited.
I guided her up and down with my hand in her hair, setting the pace that I wanted her to follow, wishing there were a way that I could subdue my senses so I could enjoy it forever, that I could make her suck my dick for hours without needing to come.
But I already wanted to come—badly.
I’d just had her speed up, but now, my hand steadied her, bringing her back to the tip until she let my dick slap against my stomach. I gently guided her toward me, wanting her on top of me.
She climbed into my lap, her legs straddling my thighs as her hands clutched my shoulders for balance.
I grabbed myself by the base and straightened so she could slide over my length. My hand gripped her hip, and I guided her down, feeling her wet lips open around my head before they took the rest of my length, her ass coming to rest on my balls.
Jesus Christ, how could I forget how good this pussy was?
She cupped my face, and she dipped her head to kiss me, her lips landing softly, like there was a chance I would reject her mouth. She felt my lips for a moment before she kissed me, kissed me gently but with purpose and passion, her breath escaping between my lips and filling my mouth. She ground her hips against me as her fingers reached my hairline, her thumb pressed against the bone in my jaw.
She kissed me harder, circling my neck with her arm to pull me closer, her tongue finding mine. She started to move slowly, rising up only a few inches so she could continue to kiss me.
I moved my hands to her ass and squeezed the cheeks, my dick twitching inside her, harder than I’d ever been in my fucking life. My dick won the battle against my mouth, and I lifted her slightly because I wanted her to ride me fully, to smash that dick with her incredible tightness.
She broke the kiss and moved up and down forcefully, taking me to the tip before she dropped down again, her ass grinding against my balls. It was too much for her and I could see that it hurt, but she pushed forward like a soldier who carried on, even with bullet wounds. Her hands were planted against my chest for balance, and she rocked her hips as she moved, her tight stomach flexed with the muscles under the skin, her tits perked up.
“Tell me you’re sorry.” I gripped her hips and guided her with me, my bare feet pressing against the rug to meet her thrusts, to push into that slick paradise.
“I’m sorry.”
I spanked her with my big hand. “Again.”
She sucked in a breath through her teeth but didn’t pause her movements, continuing to ride my dick like her life depended on it. “I’m sorry.”
I spanked her again, harder this time to leave a mark. “I didn’t hear you.”
“ I’m sorry .” Her eyes watered now, either from the pain or because I was about to make her come. I wasn’t sure which.
Coated in sweat and both breathless, we fucked in the chair by the fire, my fingers kneading the muscles of her ass, so fucking turned on by everything she was giving me that I was about to come. But I doubled down and focused on her, knowing it wouldn’t be much longer before she slathered my length with cream and came all over me. “Are you gonna leave me again?”
Instead of giving the answer I expected—no—she said something else. “Never.”
I liked that answer a lot more than the one I’d thought she would give. I wasn’t the kind of man that lived for the chase, so I knew I didn’t want her just because she was difficult to capture. But I felt a satisfaction that I’d finally gotten her, that I had her on my dick right now when she could be on someone else’s. That we were skin-to-skin, that we’d fucked like lovers rather than strangers since the first time we were together. I never did that shit with anyone, but I wouldn’t tell her that.
She was finally there, her pace becoming erratic now that she was on the threshold of a controlled burn. She began to drop down on my dick over and over, her pants turning to moans, her fingertips suddenly sharp as she dug in her nails. Her head rolled back as her eyes closed, putting on the performance of a lifetime, praising the dick that had just lit the fuse of her firework.
I wanted to wait until she was finished to fire off my load, but I was ten inches deep in my favorite pussy and I didn’t have the restraint. I gripped her cheeks firmly in my hands as my hard dick stiffened into a metal pipe.
She dug her fingers into my hair, and she drew close when she felt me join her, her tits to my chest. “Bastien…” Her eyes sparkled like stars from the tears, and she gave a moan when she felt me fill her.
My arms circled her waist, and I squeezed as I pressed my face into her neck and finished, stuffing that pussy with an entire round of bullets. I held her there for seconds, but once the tendrils of pleasure loosened, I was aware of how hot and sweaty I was. I rose from the chair and carried her with me, bringing her to the bedroom before I threw her on the bed.
She rolled with the throw, landing on her stomach.
Before she could get up, I was behind her, fisting her hair and pinning her face to the sheets as I lifted her ass to me. I shoved my dick inside her again and propped up my knee before I fucked her like a whore. “Tell me you’re sure.”
She panted against the sheets, her little pussy taking a ruthless pounding. “I’m sure.”
“Sure of what?” I tugged on her hair.
“That I want this.” Her words were muffled against the sheets, her back arched, ass in the air, neck bent. “That I want you.”