No matter where I went, I was always the new girl.
Dad was a danger to society, and Mom kept a tight leash on his empire in his forced absence. Yaay, my life. At least they loved each other, and called me when they could.
Everything, including high school, was a blur of faces, names, even the classrooms all started looking alike after a while of house-hopping. The teachers were either Sir or Ma’am, and the other kids my age were kind of a curiosity to me.
Similar dynamics, different trinkets and words.
And then there was Hell.
Junior and Senior year of the last high school I’d ever attend. He stood out to me because he seemed to inhabit the same undercurrent as I did, flowing around everyone else’s conversations as if we didn’t really belong anywhere.
Except, he was useful for growing up here.
His name was Hector and I was told they used to call him Heck when he was a kid. His parents had been unfortunate bystanders in the park, leaving behind an only child. By the time I met him, the guy had a permanent resting bitch face and his knuckles looked well-used. Obviously outgrew the nickname as his reputation darkened, so Hell it was.
He stared at me with his dark chocolate eyes sometimes, when he sat deep in thought and mostly alone, and I ignored him. Only once, he almost bumped into me in the hall, but I quickly slipped away.
He wasn’t the first person to try to get “friendly”. I’d learned to avoid being in places that led to those situations, and he didn’t get a chance to run into me again. Though, I did sometimes wonder what would happen if he did. Dreamed about it, even, and chalked it up to hormones.
As soon as we graduated, he disappeared, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I did, too.
My parents had summoned me to their hidden throne by private jet, and for once in my life I enjoyed a quiet family meal. Despite the wealth and dangerous power, they seemed to finally have found a small measure of comfort in a bungalow, surrounded by waterfalls and miles of forest.
They waited inside, already laughing over drinks, and my nerves dissolved at their easy love. I could always hear their affection over the phone, but to see it for myself was a weight off my shoulders.
Two pairs of eyes like mine looked up as I walked in, and a meaningful silence fell over the table. My escort saw himself out.
My dad couldn’t stop smiling throughout the simple dinner set on a low table, his button-down open just enough to tell me they were behaving in front of me, and it called my attention to the golden chain. It was a locket.
Mom had a small smirk beside him, she kept looking at me like she wanted to say something, and did other things instead. A drink, another bite. An offer of some other dish.
I guess none of us knew where to begin.
‘Hello’ just didn’t cut it, and before we knew it, too long of a time had passed for it to be appropriate anymore. But it was a comfortable silence, and one which surprised me with an offered drink. Mom poured into a clean glass in Dad’s hand, and he passed it onto me.
So I drank with them, and figured one of us would eventually find the words.
It was me.
“Where to, now?” I asked, wanting some kind of direction in life. Nothing in school had appealed to me, and I didn’t really believe I had any talents beyond avoiding people.
Dad shrugged. “What is it you want to do?”
“If it was up to me, she’d let us catch a break,” Mom hedged.
My eyebrow quirked up. “What, so suddenly this is a family business?”
Mom gave me a diplomatic look.
“Always has been, sweetheart,” Dad said easily. “Just need to know where your head’s at.”
“Babe,” Mom warned quietly.
He shrugged again, waving at my face. They watched me think.
I could go almost anywhere in the world, as long as it was business. I’d have no issues with travel or food, provided I stayed within our own zones. I could sleep just about anywhere, I wasn’t picky, and I’d finally be around people who might even remember my name.
I grinned. “Yeah, okay. I figure you guys deserve to chill for a minute.”
They laughed with a shared secret.
Mom shook her head and her finger at him. “That one has no ‘chill’.”
My lip curled up unpleasantly.
“Alright that went from cute to EW real quick,” I joked, standing with a last piece of fruit in my mouth. “Mind if I shower?”
And with that agreement, my induction was complete.
The next year and a half was a strange fast-paced bubble of suits, double meanings, quick getaways, and lots of “Dad, what the fuck?!”
Mom was right, he had zero chill factor, and I dare say he was still alive only thanks to her.
Despite the very real danger, they were all smiles and warmth and laughter until the day they retired.
The seriousness of their faces made me remember the moment very clearly: Dad took my hand, his arm around my tipsy Mom. Crazy pair of humans, but still in love.
“Do us proud, sweetheart.”
Mom was completely sober for an instant. “We’ll call you.”
The USB flipped end over end, landing in my palm safely every time. I was wearing a plain black two-piece skirt suit, the starched button-down shirt lightly strained from my jiggling peek of cleavage.
Five years of worrying about a leak in my circle, and five more years of building up the perfect takedown against my biggest threat, and suddenly my delivery boy had been removed from life and duty before he even made it out the shop’s door.
I told his wife, myself, last night. Hadn’t slept since.
So I came to get the information myself, being rather talented at slipperiness and bored of desk work, on top of the weight of yesterday. My right hand man was elsewhere for backup plans, the lone guy I’d brought along was going ahead to clear the way.
I stared coldly at the man cowering in his chair, staring at the unfavorable end of my weapon just a couple inches away. His speech had quickly shown signs of his tendency to double-up on words, the longer he’d made me wait for the sleek metal stick.
Now I was testing his truth.
“I get it! That- that’s everything!” His hands shook even as they shoved the air towards me. “Now, get- get out before they- they see you!”
I let out a single chuckle. Then put it away safely and waved the metal finger at him as my feet carried me the small distance towards his door.
“It better be everything, Jo-Jo,” I glowered at him, and peeked out before I made my escape.
“Just like- like her crazy-ass- ass dad,” his mutter faded as I slipped out of his office.
It made me smile, so I let it slide.
I felt something go wrong when my tagalong backed up.
I didn’t even think as I sped off. Bullets peppered the wall.
My lip curled in resignation as his body fell, and I mentally marked the spot as I turned corners. Cleanup was part of every plan after A.
Phone in hand, I pushed the speed dial for my Second and ran into a most unexpected wall of warm delicious man, which shoved the air out of my lungs as he whirled us into an open closet. He left the door ajar.
I didn’t attack because he stood still and silent with an ear cocked, crowding me into the corner, and also, I knew exactly who he was.
Face in front of mine, his chocolate eyes could tell the second my guy picked up. I’d know those eyes anywhere.
His wide open fingers slid down over my tailored ass, a hot possessive caress of need. He hadn’t made a sound yet, I didn’t make a sound.
His hands slowly squeezed while footsteps rushed by outside.
“Plan C,” I whispered into the phone, and watched Hell’s mouth descend.
Plan C allowed for 6 hours of no contact, whereas Plan B required my runner to be alive. I was positive I could make it back in four, even with this delicious detour.
Parted lips hovered above mine, lightly brushing at first. I wanted more.
“You got it, Boss.”
The line went dead just as our jaws opened for our tongues, as if we couldn’t stop ourselves. His had a barbell with a glass button and I wasn’t sure what I would have explained if the line stayed on, because I gasped softly.
Hell took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss.
I pressed myself into it, loving the feel of his stubble on my chin, the slight taste of smoke under his warm scent, the surprise of metal nestled in the soft wetness of his mouth which was careful not to click against my teeth.
By contrast, his rough hands on the back of my skirt pulled my hips flush against his, and my arms tightened around his neck. His sigh that time had enough pleasure to go straight to my core and I caught his bottom lip between my teeth. Released it slowly to revel in the lust of his rich brown eyes.
“Drop the phone,” he growled the mutter, and I gave him a lifted brow.
His kiss was soft at first, like he was trying to convince me, until he started to demand. With his fingers kneading the muscles covered in skirt until I was mimicking the slow bounce of hot sex, the device slowly slipped from my fingers, down his arm.
He caught it through the kiss, watched my face intently as he slid it inside my jacket pocket, slowly.
My lips parted at his implied meanings. Slide inside me, keep my secrets.
The first one, I was definitely okay with.
“The stick,” he whispered, and made as if to kiss me again. “I promise to put it in... your pocket,” he grinned for my narrowed eyes.
No one would bat an eye if we had sex in this closet, but several someones WOULD sound off quick at a runaway in a suit.
He nodded a grinning Oh Yeah? and I put the info stick in my own pocket because his hands bunched my skirt at my waist. His mouth returned to mine with perceived permission.
The problem was that he was good enough to give me a hard time replying to the sliding of his tongue, his exploring lips, those teasing nibbles against my sensitized skin, while at the same time trying to think. It was impossible to form a thought apart from Need Him Now.
Plus, with all the adrenaline coursing through me from the chase and the imminent danger, I didn’t want to stop him, I wanted to poke that hornet’s nest.
No, not poke.
I wanted to punch it with a fist so I could carry evidence that it was me who fucked with it. I had fantasized over him years ago, and had immediately discarded the idea, but he wasn’t stopping now.
In fact, as our kiss evolved, he grabbed handfuls of bare ass and I felt his breath shudder out of him. His zipper was pressing against my thinly covered front insistently.
Thigh highs and a thong, hard to go wrong, I thought with a smile.
His reaction pleased me, even more so when he pulled away from my mouth like he would kiss my neck, and instead moved to make sure he was really feeling what he was feeling. His head looked down the curves of my back as he jiggled my cheeks around the string.
I bit my lip, hands going for his pants.
His mouth came to my ear as he leaned his hips away to help. “You’re dirty as fuck, you know that?”
“Who sprung the trap...” I breathed back, biting his earlobe softly with the dropping of his pants.
The fingers of one hand wrapped around the lace of the hosed thigh I picked up, smoothing under the limb in a way that sent chills up into me. My hands ran up the front of his torso.
He wasn’t asking, he was telling me.
His other hand pulled the damp triangle of crotch cloth aside and something hard slid against my clit along with his soft tip. My face expected an answer.
All I got was his manhood sliding inside me with a secretive smugness on his face, and my eyelids lowered with a breathed moan of surprise.
I could hear the metal clicks of his jewelry as he pushed inside, my hands pulling his head to mine for another drowning kiss so I wouldn’t moan, and then his other hand grabbed a handful of ass to lift me onto him.
The first hand on my thigh helped pull me forward until he seated himself fully, my toes curling above the floor and my fingers fisting in his hair before I even realized our joining had taken up all of my attention. It was all hot hard velvet, sprinkled with specific nubs of cold hard steel, the ridges of his stairway manipulating my flesh in ways plain skin could not.
My other knee slid up his side and he pinned my thigh under his arm with another hum to allow him the easiest access. God, he was so hard, and the way his muscles swelled fit my legs in just the right way to give me easy leverage.
He pushed my shoulder blades, my kiss, against the small space of wall and moved inside me, not coming out as he stirred my insides, but I heard the moist clicking and it just did something right for me.
We panted softly into each other’s mouth, fighting for silence, closing in on that point of pleasure-death.
The door opened slightly. I only knew because there was a bit more light to see him with, and his face looked every bit as sinful as I felt.
We still stared at each other as he pulled out partially, only to shove into me. He wasn’t stopping.
It made my throat sound very unlike me in this quiet place, soft and needy, and I saw some sort of decision settle over him as his mouth descended again. My legs hugged him tightly.
That kiss was everything.
I didn’t know I was looking for this, wasn’t aware that I craved the slide of his pierced tongue against mine, the light sting of his teeth nipping my lips in his passion. His lips understanding exactly how to tell me he had been waiting too long for this, and he wasn’t ready to give it up.
I’d forgotten all about the door, but the corner of my eyes caught it closing all the way before they rolled back into my skull as he clicked me higher without interruption in the dark.
We had that hot sex he’d teased moments ago with his hands over the skirt which was now my belt, and it felt every bit as decadent as I’d imagined him to be.
I had never, in my life, had this particular pleasure, and that it would be from him, from the guy they called Hell, was my own little corner of cloud nine. This memory would surely be my torment until the day I died, but right now?
All I wanted to do right now, was feel the decorated pleasure rod he’d been dying to give me.
“Don’t scream,” he mouthed at my ear, and I bit my lip when his mouth stayed there to hum his enjoyment.
Now that someone knew this place was occupied, he was not shy about letting me hear the extra arousal that gathered between piercings. Slick clicking I could feel echoing through my insides, that made me pant at his ear, answering every soft groan of his with pleasured hushed expletives of my own.
I could feel his fingers curl into my skin like claws to hold me from leaving. One set half-dragging the lace down, the other holding as much cheek as he could get his fingers around. Guiding the channel that held him, in the way he wanted to be held.
Then he stepped closer, shoving me higher up the wall, the wiggle dropping my jaw.
One stroke rubbing me one way, the other stroke circling around the opposite way, his jewelry massaging all the spots he’d found in me.
My breath was almost a whine, and with a pleased groan that slid down my spine, he continued the motions until I was trembling at the edge.
“Rain on me, Heaven,” he whispered against my lips as I started sliding downhill.
He drowned my gasp in the passion of his studded tongue, my shock instantly sending me the rest of the way over the wave of release, a thrusting dance which he more than matched. Shoving in and out of me with sounds like wet rips of clicking chain as we bounced up against the wall in the aftermath of my name on his lips.
Don’t scream, he’d said. Now I knew why.
My head fell back slowly as I started shaking and dripping, and he returned to his spot near my ear. I tried to shake some sense into my head despite the orgasmic bliss currently hijacking my body, and it shook me more around him.
He got his rain.
“Juuust like that,” he breathed us through the feeling. “You’re goddamn perfect...”
And then with a savory grunt, his lips to the pounding pulse in my neck, he finally stopped thrusting. Breathing heavily with me.
His hips jerked. So did mine.
He sighed with satisfaction, then put my leg down slowly, still holding onto my ass with his other arm pinning my knee to his side. I jerked again in surprise as the act of taking his fingers off my skin stung a little. He’d really dug in, there.
His lips brushed mine as he slid out, and I shivered when my immediate response was to kiss him back. He lingered, letting me push him back.
The way he slipped out of me with that much jewelry was a sensation I wanted to experience again, but this was too much of a coincidence. I pulled away from his face.
With my eyes adjusted to the dim room, the expression he wore was cautious.
We pulled apart to fix ourselves quickly, and after running his fingers through my hair, he let me leave first. The look of unfinished business between us, stayed in my mind.
I was calmly stalking towards a meeting. Checked my watch and picked up the pace.
Just as I was almost at the revolving door, a hand came up to my lower back.
“Allow me,” the recognizable voice said, and I looked up to his serious face as we stepped through the entrance.
“Why are you here?” I asked quietly as we melted into the foot traffic.
He smiled enigmatically, easily finding my hand in the crowd.
“Wherever you go, I follow. What next?”
I narrowed my eyes, but continued on an alternate route to my exit. His face only changed to show me he still wasn’t spilling the news, for all the world acting like my body guard for the next two hours.
He helped me get around, surprising me with his own resourcefulness, but I wasn’t any less suspicious. He had no colors, no tags, no visible tattoos that would give me any hint as to what he was doing at that exact place in this exact time. I was starting to think he’d planned all this, and I wasn’t enjoying the anticipation of a surprise.
“I could make you tell me...?” I offered as we finally climbed the last set of stairs towards the helicopter on the roof of a different building, but I hoped he wouldn’t force my hand.
There was pleasure in his eyes, now. A smile, where just a moment before my words there lived an unhappy twist.
“You could try.”
I opened the door to see my pilot smoking against the wall. The chopper was running idle on its own.
His hand went to his weapon the second his eyes caught sight of my extra head, and not who he’d dropped me off with.
I told him where to expect Cleanup and gestured to Hell.
“He’s good,” I told him, “I think.”
“You think?” he asked, but threw the cancer stick on the floor with countless others, crushing it in place with his heel. The ground around this exit looked like a general smoking area. “Or you know?”
Technically, he was still my Dad’s pilot. Just as crazy, but didn’t like getting his hands dirty; best getaway artist, to my knowledge.
“Figuring this out later sounds great, too,” I prompted when his eyes stared at our joined hands.
We were approaching the third hour. It would take another two to get to our next checkpoint. I had a flight to catch, if I wanted to get there in time.
And if Hell wanted to start some shit, or he made me think he was trying to do anything against me, I could always crash the transportation with him in it.
It might even make Dad jealous. He’d never gotten the chance to do it.
The family friend made an unhappy face as his thoughts followed mine, but he finally took his hand off his gun and started walking.
In his eyes, I’d traded one of ours for this unnamed spice in a suit.
Hell’s fingers brushed my ass until the pilot was in a position to see, and I made him go in first so I could return the favor, but reaching instead to run my nails over the metal ridges, satisfied to see his whole body visibly jerk.
I sat down and crossed a knee over the other as we took off. His calloused fingers found mine and wiggled between them until he pressed our palms together.
I couldn’t wait until we were in the soundproof privacy of my jet.
(“10th Too-Short on Inkitt!! How are you liking my pack of smokes so far?” -SL)