Page 28 of Professional Liar
“And nothing to you,” Kat added.
Bianca threw a piece of the breadstick at her, crumbs dotting her brown curls. I wished my brothers and I could be this easy with each other. My family would protect each other to death, but that death would likely come from one of our own hands. Dinners and events often ended with bloody nose and bones needing reset. They’d started collecting car keys and weapons at the door.
The girls finished their soup when the hair on my arms started to stand on end. I kept my survey inconspicuous, picking up my cell phone and glancing around with my chin tucked down.
A man in a trench coat, with a scarf pulled up over his face walked steadily down the sidewalk. He wore sunglasses, and there were no discerning features I could grasp. All the classic signs of a pro.
With my phone already open, I sent a text to Fox, ordering him to get here now. Then I shoved my phone in my pocket and grasped the collapsed baton tucked in the outer pocket. He continued getting closer, and I surveyed our positions. Me with my back to the other two tables, he’d cut right behind me, Kat sat locked between the table and the window, Bianca on the other side. He could target any of us, and we were all in vulnerable positions. As my heartbeat climbed, adrenaline pouring in my blood, my palms started to sweat.
Only a few meters left, he inched closer. I stood casually, and came around the table like I wanted to see what Kat read on her phone. She glanced up at me, then at the man who slowly ambled past our table. The color drained from her cheeks, and I didn’t wait to for him to make a move.
As if in slow motion, he dragged his hand from his coat pocket, a small handgun clutched tight. I flicked my arm, snapped out the baton, and slammed it on the nerve right at his wrist. He dropped the gun. Then I rammed the heel of it into his nose, following with my fist. He crumpled to the sidewalk.
Fox raced up in seconds from the car he’d parked up over the curb. We’d made a scene, but I didn’t care as long as Kat remained safe.
He grabbed the man, his gun, and dragged him back to the vehicle. The crew would figure out what to do with him, and how he knew where to find us.
Kat sat, hands shaking, Bianca leaning into her, gripping her arms. I tossed a few bills on the table, my own fingers trembling from adrenaline still pounding under the skin. “Ladies, let’s go.”
They both got up without argument, and I followed them to the car. Holt took off, and I sank back into the seat, finally able to breathe.
I dragged her into my lap, and I didn’t care about Bianca’s presence, or if Holt could see, I needed my arms around her, proof she was fine. Proof a random stranger didn’t take her from me on a busy street corner. “Tell me you’re okay,” I whispered, nuzzling my face into her hair.
“I’m fine,” she said, her cold fingers on my hot cheeks.
“Holt, we are taking Bianca home. I’m putting Fox on her until I can hire a guard.”
Kat’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue with me. Bianca didn’t even argue with me. I supposed right after an attack would be the perfect time to get the upper hand in an unwinnable argument.
We pulled up to Bianca’s building, and Fox already stood on the corner. His motorcycle parked illegally around the corner. He opened the door and let Bianca climb out. The sisters hugged tight, and Kat watched her walk to the door. “Don’t sleep with the bodyguard,” she yelled. A few people stared, and her sister spun for a second to flash her the bird.
“Glad she isn’t traumatized,” Kat said as she squeezed back in next to me.
I grabbed her around the waist, lifted her onto my lap, and stripped her jacket off her shoulders roughly. She caught on fast, pulling at the edge of her pencil skirt, dragging it up to her waist.
Nothing could break through the compulsion to be inside her. My cock shot rock hard as I grasped the bottom of her panties, the one thin layer of cotton separating me from everything I needed, and jerked it aside. She’d opened my belt and fly for me already. I arched my hips so she could wriggle them down enough to move. She freed my cock with her other hand and angled it to meet her.
She slid onto me smooth and warm, and I shuttered, releasing her underwear and wrapping my fingers to her ass. I don’t even have to set the pace. She used my shoulders to anchor herself and took up a furious pace, sliding on and off of me, pushing from her knees. She panted and moaned with each thrust. I held on tight and marveled at this woman. This fucking woman. My woman. The animal inside of me roared to mark her, take her, fuck her until she couldn’t think about anything or anyone but my cock in her pussy.
“Are you okay,” she asked a moment later, still riding me, still forcing her body down my hard length.
Her question shook through some of the fog and the lust to gentle my fingers on her hips. “Fine,” I push out. “Fine.”
Her nails catch my neck, and our situation sparks crystal clear. I drag her down, trapping her hips tight so she couldn’t move.
“What?” She panted. “What is it?”
“We have to stop. Now.”
She blinked at me, mouth goggling open. “Huh?”
“I’m not wearing a condom.” As much as I enjoyed the bare slide of her body on mine, we had yet to discuss our mutual feelings on reproduction. And I didn’t want that decision made for us.
“I don’t want to stop,” she said, and wriggled her hips for emphasis. She felt so good like this. Hot and dreamy and soaking wet on my cock. Fuck. My decision making skills were not at peak with her wrapped around me.
“Don’t test me,” I ground out. She shifted her hips again, and I dug my fingertips into her skin, trying to keep myself still, and her from breaking free of my clutch.
“It feels good,” she whispered. “We’re married now. We can have sex without condoms. You can pull out.” She edged up a fraction of an inch. Then huffed when I didn’t join her. “You’re a God damn criminal. Please do not preach about safe sex while you screw me in the back of your car.”
