CROW (Boston Underworld Book 1) (14 page)

By the time I hear his footsteps coming back down the hall, I’ve surmised there’s nothing but legitimate looking business crap in here. Go figure. I pull out my iPod and scroll through the music as he swings the door open so he doesn’t get suspicious. I end up settling on a song just as he walks through with a tray of drinks. Not just any drinks, but Patron on the rocks with salt and lime.

If I was a romantic, I might actually think his gesture sweet. That is until his next words.

“Lay down.”

“On the desk?” I ask incredulously.

“That’ll be enough cheek out of ye now.”

I’m stalling, and he knows it. Those weird sensations are there again. The ones that make me feel out of control. I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, a mixture of dread and excitement at the prospect of flinging myself off of it.

I smile even though a nervous tremor runs up my spine. “Whatever you say, Lachlan.”

“Call me Lach,” he says in a husky voice. “Like ye did the other night.”

I peek up at him beneath the curtain of my hair and wonder if he’s still thinking about that too. I don’t have to wonder long. When I lay down on the desk, little glimpses of flesh catch his eye as he burns a hot path down my body and stalks closer.

“Just once,” he says. “One night of fun, Mack. That’s all this will be. And ye can never speak of it to anyone.”

I nod, but I’m pretty sure he’s only trying to convince himself and not me.

He grabs the salt shaker and shocks the hell out of me when he leans down and licks my bottom lip. He follows it up with a sprinkling of salt and repeats the same process again on my neck and the swell of my breast.

When he pulls back to examine his handiwork, my chest is rising and falling hard. I don’t know if it’s the anticipation of knowing what he’s going to do, or the way he’s looking at me, or even the dulcet tones of Godsmack’s Voodoo playing around us that has me so worked up. All I know is that the thought of his hands and mouth on my body is making me feel things I never expected. There’s some sort of dark energy pulling us together, growing more powerful by the second. I can’t even really be sure what it is. I feel like I’m drugged, high.

He bends over me, his breath skating over my skin before his lips ever touch me.
My whole body shivers in response, and we lock eyes. It feels like everything else around us has just ceased to exist. This spell between us, whatever it is, it’s stronger than either him or I. Even now, there is doubt lingering in his eyes. Warring with the savage lust there too. He wants me when he knows he shouldn’t.

My hand twitches with the need to reach up and pull him to me. His eyes don’t miss it, and that’s the determining factor for him. He leans down and licks the salt off my lips in a way that makes me part them for him. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, bringing a slight bite of pain to the sting of salt. My hands are in his hair, gripping and pulling as he tastes me in a way that leaves me feeling dazed and aching for more. His hands fumble with the spandex covering my nipples for all of two seconds before he just tears it apart altogether.

When his lips move down my throat, I whine in protest. But then he’s licking along my collarbone, tasting me in a place I never realized could be so sensitive. By the time he gets to my breast, I’m a puddle of need and wanting. His tongue swirls around my nipple, teasing but never quite touching. He uses his thumb to spread the tiny grains of salt over the erect bud, and when I think I can’t handle anymore, he descends on me again. His hot mouth is all over me, sucking, licking and nipping my breasts. I can’t even tell which is which anymore.

And then everything just stops. When he looks up at me his eyes are on fire, and my heart feels like it’s about to explode. He grabs the lime wedge and places it between my lips, and I just know I’m so royally fucked.

My breaths are coming hard and fast when he reaches for the Patron. He downs the shot, and then he’s leaning forward again, his lips wet and his eyes feral as he glances at the lime between my teeth. He smashes it between us, and I taste a hint of the salt and tequila before the lime falls away and there’s nothing but our lips crushing together.

I’m grabbing his hair and moaning against him when his tongue invades my mouth. I can’t tell anymore if I’m trying to push him away or pull him closer. I don’t like this. I never wanted any of this. So why do I need more?

I don’t know the answer to that question, and I don’t have time to think about it either. He pulls away briefly, preparing another shot. This time for me.

“Lick.” He holds out his wrist, and I obey slavishly.

He salts it like a pro and I suck on him the way he did to me. His skin is soft and warm and delicious. He groans and the sound alone nearly makes me have a seizure on the desk. I have no idea what’s going on with my body. Lachlan retrieves the ice cube from his empty glass with his fingers and rubs it against my lips. On instinct, they part, but not before some of the water drips down my throat. I arch up as he gingerly places the cube on my tongue and steals another kiss. The heat from his mouth and the cool of the ice combine to push me to an edge I’ve never been before. It feels foreign and strange.

I want to devour him right here and now. But he pulls away, insistent on me taking my shot.

“Drink.” His voice is rough, his eyes heavy with lust.

He watches me as I drink everything he gives to me, our eyes never leaving each other’s. The tequila goes down with a pleasant burn, followed swiftly by the juice of a lime. This time he squeezes it down my neck and between my breasts.

I’m panting again when his lips find my neck and lick and suck their way down. I want to get a grip, but then I don’t. I think this is what I was supposed to do. What I planned on doing, but I can’t think straight with his hands and mouth on my body. What was the plan again?

One of his hands is drifting lower, right between my thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he demands.

I do. Jesus. I fucking do it, just like that. I’m not even thinking straight.

I don’t know how, but his fingers are inside of me within seconds. And I’m soaking wet, I can feel it against him. He makes a sound in his throat as his mouth comes down to my breast and sucks it inside. It drives me insane. It feels too good. I think I must be delusional. Nothing’s ever felt so good.

This is all unchartered territory for me, but not for him. A part of me wonders if it’s always this way for him. And then I’m getting unbidden and unwanted flashes of him doing this same thing to Mandy.

I’ve got no frigging clue where it comes from, but the next thing I know I’m muttering something I shouldn’t.

“Mandy…”

“What?” he pauses to look up at me.

I arch up into his hand and urge him to keep going. “I don’t want you to touch her again,” I sneer.

I realize my mistake the moment it’s out of my mouth. He said one night. Fun only. That’s all I wanted too, I think. But he doesn’t get angry at my demand. His eyes spark with satisfaction and possession as he goes back to his ministrations with full force. I can hardly see straight, and I’m making all kinds of embarrassing noises. Lachlan must like them because he is too.

The orgasm blindsides me with its intensity and I collapse back against the wood, feeling like I still haven’t gotten nearly enough. He climbs on top of me and reaches for his zipper as his lips find mine.

“Ye’re so goddamn wet for me, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Tell me ye want me inside of you.”

“I do,” I agree. “I want you inside of me.”

A long slow groan leaves his throat and one of his hands is roaming over my body while he tries to undo his zipper with the other. I reach down to help him, brushing the swollen heat beneath the material.

“You feel that?” he rasps. “Feel how hard I am for ye, butterfly. Ye’re going to take care of that for me.”

“Yes. Please, Lachlan…”

And then everything just stops. I can barely hear over the music, but someone’s knocking at the door.

“Fack off!” Lachlan chucks one of the glasses at the door and it shatters on impact.

I grin up at his lunacy, grateful I’m not the only one being affected this way. Still, the knocking continues, and he looks murderous as he sits back on his haunches. I’m still staring at the bulge in his jeans, too delirious to comprehend what’s being said.

“What the bleeding hell is so goddamn important?” he yells.

“The Armenians…”

It’s the only thing I hear before the sound of gunfire erupts throughout the building. The next thing I know, Lachlan is pulling me off the desk and pushing me into the corner.

“Stay here.” He whips off his jacket and pulls a gun from the back of his jeans.

I’m staring at him in disbelief as screams erupt from the front of the building. I don’t know what’s happening, because all of the blood in my body has gone south. One minute he’s fucking me with his mouth and fingers, and the next someone’s shooting up the place. I’m frozen in horror, which isn’t something I can recall ever happening before.

“Mack?” Lachlan snaps his fingers. “Did ye hear me? Don’t move!”

I can barely nod. He gives me one last glance, hesitating before he leaves the room. It’s not the first time I’ve heard gunfire. I lived in a bad neighborhood. It was bound to happen from time to time. Also, my dad used to come home with the occasional stray bullet lodged into his flesh somewhere. I even watched one of his guys bleed out on the kitchen floor because he was too stubborn to go to the hospital. But Jesus, I didn’t expect to be right in the middle of it. I’ve got no fricken’ clue what’s happening here. I fight with my hands, not guns.

I cover my ears and squeeze my knees against my torso. An intense pressure builds in my chest as I sit here, feeling completely useless. I think about Lachlan, wondering what’s happening out there. He seems strong, invincible almost. I used to think that about my dad too. But he wasn’t invincible, and neither is Lachlan. On that note, neither am I.

The voices outside the door are getting closer. The gunshots, louder. I hear a thud, and I know it’s a body falling to the floor. Jesus. Shit. Fuck. Shit. I’m right in the middle of a hailstorm of bullets and I’m about to hyperventilate. If one of them comes into this room, they’ll see me right away.

I eye the small pocket beneath Lachlan’s desk and decide to scramble for it. When I’m about halfway there, the door splinters open and sends shards of wood flying. I make a strangled noise in my throat when I glance up and see two scary ass looking dudes with guns.

I half expect them to shoot me on sight, but they aren’t even looking at my face. It takes me a minute to realize why. I glance down and belatedly remember that Lachlan ripped my dress and my goddamn tits are hanging out.

One of the guys says something in what I’m guessing is Armenian and then laughs. The other nods in agreement and they take a step forward. Crap. This is not my finest moment, but I’m going to have to try to fend them off in my half-ripped spandex dress. But first, I’ll need to catch them off guard.

“Get up,” the man says with a heavy accent. “You come with us.”

Like hell I will. I stand up on shaky legs and hold up my hands as I step towards them. One of them grabs me by the hair and shoves me forward. I take a step and then freeze, slamming my head back into his nose as hard as I can.

He curses and the other guy is on top of me before I have a chance to get my bearings. He throws me to the floor and starts muttering angry words I don’t understand as he slaps me around a bit. My head is throbbing and I’m disoriented, but I know I need to think fast. I need to get a grip on this situation.

The man on top of me starts groping around my chest as he says something to the other guy who’s bleeding all over the place. I use his distraction to knee him in the nuts before I kick him hard in the chest. When he loses his balance, I scramble up on my feet and make a run for the door, only to be met by another hard wall of muscle.

Before I can make sense of what’s happening, Lachlan grips me around the waist and swivels me around. I hear a couple of loud pops and scream when I realize they are shooting at Lachlan. Not just shooting, but shot.

We both fall back against the wall and he manages to pull us out of view before we slide to the floor in a heap together.

“Jesus, Lachlan!” I scream. “You’re shot. You just took a fucking bullet for me…”

He’s bleeding all over the place and I’m freaking out. But there isn’t time to process anything because the guys inside the office start shooting off more rounds through the walls. Chunks of drywall and dust are flying everywhere as Lachlan pushes me behind him and tells me to stay low. He winces and gets down on his belly, crawling back towards the door.

“Lachlan!”

“Mack… shut up and stay down.”

He pokes his head around the bottom of the doorjamb and fires off a couple quick shots. I hear a grunt inside followed by a thud. More gunfire comes our way opposite of the wall, and Lachlan scrambles backward with a painful grimace.

I can’t tell exactly where he’s been shot, and I don’t know how much longer he’s going to be able to carry on with this. Where the hell are the rest of his men? There’s still gunfire coming from the front of the club, and there’s nowhere for us to go.

Something crashes inside the office, and before I even have time to blink, one of the guys is hurling himself on top of Lachlan. He doesn’t have his gun because half of his hand has been blown off from the looks of it. Lachlan tries to fire off a shot, but the guy knocks the gun out of his hand and sends it flying.

I reach out and grab it while they scuffle, and then stand up on shaky legs, pointing at the guy with the black eyes.

“Jaysus!” Lachlan yells up at me. “Don’t fecking fire that off now. Ye’re liable to finish me off.”

“Then get the fuck outta’ the way!” I scream.

Lachlan smashes his fist across the other guy’s face and it disorients him long enough for Lachlan to stand up.

“Give me the gun, sweetheart.” He holds out his hand, but I can’t move. I’m frozen. I don’t want this. I don’t want to see this guy die. Jesus. What have I gotten myself into?