Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1) (10 page)

Mateo angled her back against the wall so that she was braced by her shoulders, clinging to his, and he slid his hand down between them until his thumb found her clit. The crippling pleasure was an explosion that made her scream unintelligible curses, and his soft laughter filled her ears. “Come for me. I want to watch you come.”

As if her body had been waiting for the command she fell apart, the cable snapped, and she tumbled into the orgasm headlong while he pumped in deep strokes, her pussy clenching him in waves. Her body was on fire and she lifted her eyes to see his predatory expression roaming her body while he continued to torture her clit with his rhythmic circles.

“Again,” he commanded and she wanted to push it back. Too sensitive, too much, too fast.

“Fuck!” She cried out as he sent her over the edge again, her legs shaking, her core shuddering, until it was only her grip on his shoulders and the support of his hand under her ass that was keeping her aloft.

“That’s it, I need you. In a bed. Now.” His words were clipped short and he slid from her to toss her bodily over his shoulder. There was something so primal in him that called out to her, that urged her to let him have her, and fuck all the logical parts of her brain… she was going to give in.

She bounced on his shoulder as he walked fast towards wherever he was taking her, and when she squirmed he slapped her ass and then shoved two fingers deep inside her, curling them down to nail her g-spot repeatedly until she was practically ready to orgasm again. Then his touch left her bereft as he pulled away to open the door they were by.

The room was a blur, all she knew was that he slid her down his chest and ripped his shirt over her head. Her hands immediately went to the buttons of his shirt and she cursed because her hands were shaking and there were too fucking many of them. He lost patience and ripped the shirt open, buttons flying before he tossed it out of the way, and then it was his hard chest under her hands.

Mateo grabbed her and pulled her towards him to kiss her, and his lips were hot and hungry as they moaned against each other. The slick, wet skin of his cock pressed against her stomach and she reached for it, wrapping her hand around the velvet-coated steel of his erection. With a single stroke his body shuddered and she brushed her thumb across the dark head, wishing she could taste him, the mix of the two of them as he came in her throat. It seemed they were of the same mind because an instant later he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed, grabbing her thighs to spread her wide.

His tongue didn’t just graze her slit, he devoured her as his fingers bruised her thighs again to hold her in place when she tried to launch off the bed from the onslaught of pleasure. Warm and wet and overwhelming, he played her like an instrument he knew too well. Nips along her lips made her wiggle and squirm, urging his tongue back to her clit, and the moment he sucked it between his lips she shouted as the brutal bliss sent her pulse into heart attack territory. Another orgasm was rising and it felt almost like panic. This was too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” she babbled and he laughed as he let her clit pop from his mouth.

“Yes you can, come for me again. Do it.” His voice was unforgiving, a demand, and she tried to shut her thighs against his tongue but he forced her to keep herself open, to take every devious, tormenting lick that held her precariously over a black sky filled with lightning. Camille started to shake her head, her hands fisting into the bedding on either side of her, and she couldn’t have told someone the color of it, or what was in his room – hell, she couldn’t remember her own middle name as she came hard. He practically purred between her thighs, lapping at her to draw out the shivering orgasm and that only made it worse, only made the lightning around her feel like a never-ending assault.

Just as she wondered if he was ever going to stop he sat up, his chin wet with her, and he grinned like the devil offering her a deal before he grabbed her hips and hauled her to the edge of the bed. He flipped her to her stomach like she weighed nothing and then forced her legs apart again and she lifted her ass, waiting, but he didn’t make her wait long. A hard thrust and they were both crying out. He was so deep, and he ground himself there, making her feel every pulsing twitch, before he slowly withdrew and pressed forward again.

“Jesus Christ…” Camille groaned and pushed back, and his hips met hers with a clap of skin. Then he let himself go, and each full-length drive had her cunt feeling bruised and aching, but in the kind of well-used way that had her shivering towards yet another orgasm. The fucker wasn’t going to shoot her, or stab her, he was going to kill her with pleasure. Had
that
ever happened before? The way her head was swimming, lights sparking in the darkness every time she squeezed her eyes shut, it was probably about to.

“I want to feel you come around me again.” His hands dug into her hips as he jerked her back onto his cock again, hammering inside her as if he never tired.

She shook her head against the bedding, mumbling incoherently that it was impossible. He was asking the impossible, but he just laughed and slid his hand underneath her. His fingers zeroed in on her clit and she screamed and bucked back into him as he started to torture the raw nub again.

Too much. Can’t.

Her brain was malfunctioning, overrun with pleasure, and then the universe inverted and she was pretty sure she blacked out for a second as a final orgasm wrung her out and turned her muscles to liquid. Mateo was letting out his own stream of curses as he held himself still for a moment, his seed filling her until the combination of the two of them spilled onto the already soaked sheet beneath them. He pumped inside her slowly as he finished and then his weight sagged over her hips and he dropped his forehead against her spine.

Hard breaths sent chills down her back and she shivered, forcing her hands to release their grip on the bedding. “Wow…” he whispered and she laughed softly, nodding in agreement.

He stood and slid from her before smacking her ass and nudging her onto the bed. She crawled in contentedly and he followed, landing with a huff next to her as they both tried to slow their racing hearts. Looking over at him was a decadent sight. Mateo had kicked off his pants and pulled his boxer briefs back into place, but there was still so much gorgeous, brown skin visible. The trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button made her want to lick him, but she was too tired to even lift her head.

“Fuck, I’m an idiot.” He groaned and she tilted her head as he made eye contact with her. “Please tell me you’re on birth control.”

“You think I’d be dumb enough to have a kid? Be serious. I’ve been on birth control a long fucking time.” She laughed, squeezing her thighs against the mixture of the two of them and feeling a little proud of herself that she’d thrown him so off balance that he’d forgotten about condoms. Camille blew out a breath and watched him roll his eyes at her. “You get tested?” She asked, and this time he laughed.

“Every three months. You?”

“Just last month. One night stand with some bartender.” She shrugged, and he laughed.

“How do I compare?”

A grin crept over her lips as she looked back at him. “Meh, you were alright.”

“Brat.” He yawned, and she had to admire the way his abs and chest moved as he stretched an arm over his head. “Come here,” he ordered as he held his other arm open for her to lie against him. She rolled into his side, and even though he was way too warm, and they were both sticky, his shoulder made a very nice pillow.

They lay like that for a while, time ticking away, but she didn’t care as she slipped in and out of sleep. Sometimes she would wake and he would be out, his lips parted as his chest rose and fell in even breaths. Incredibly trusting since she knew his gun lay on the floor somewhere near them, but it would wake him if she moved even if she did still feel like shooting him.

Which, surprisingly, she didn’t. After all, he hadn’t shot her.

Other times he would tug her tighter against him, breathing in the scent of her hair before he relaxed again and they both slipped back into sleep. Camille wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she woke to him pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, her chin, her nose, and then as her eyes opened he kissed her lips. Gently nibbling until she opened her mouth and he took control, dipping his tongue inside where hers met his and they moaned softly.

Why did this have to feel so good? Why did
he
have to feel so good, and why hadn’t they met before this fucked-up, impossible situation?

She kissed him a little harder, and his hand inched into her hair until he tightened his grip to send a thrill down her spine.

Right
. She almost laughed aloud as she realized that the reason they wouldn’t have met was that it was never a good idea to meet either of them. Whether Callahan was sending her after someone, or Scarpa was sending him – the people they met tended to end up dead.

Not a good recipe for an affair that would end in anything but bloodshed.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” His whispered words shocked her and she swallowed, unsure of how to respond. Mateo didn’t seem bothered by her silence as he trailed a finger slowly down the line of her nose, drifting his touch over her lips, before continuing down her neck to her chest. “I’m going to figure this out, okay?”

Camille’s eyes snapped up to his, confusion filling her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to fix this.”

She laughed. “How?”

He shrugged, and fuck if he didn’t look even more handsome with that lopsided smile as he looked down at her. “I’m not a hundred percent sure yet, but I am. I’m not willing to give this up.”

“You can’t fix this, Mateo.” She looked away from him and draped her arm over her eyes.

His hand wrapped around her wrist, gently lifting her arm away and entwining their fingers, which sent a low thrum through her tired muscles. “I -”

Whatever he had been about to say was drowned out by the dulcet tones of a doorbell echoing throughout the house. She felt him tense and when he looked back at her there was concern pinching his features.

“Stay here, I need to see who that is.” Mateo slid off the bed and started to rally his clothes. When he picked up his ruined button-down he growled and rushed off towards a door that must have led to a closet or bathroom. He returned a moment later, checking his gun like a pro. Dropping the clip, checking the barrel, slamming it home again and then pulling back the slide to load one bullet to-go.

She sat up and crossed her legs on the bed. “I’ll come with -”

“No. Stay here. I’m
not
fucking around, Camille.” His eyes were serious as he turned towards the door and she growled at the command. She eyed the door as he stepped out and smiled when she realized his room didn’t have a key code on both sides.

Of course, there’d be no reason to lock himself in his bedroom, which meant she wasn’t locked in either.

Chapter Six

Mateo tried to finger comb his hair and scrub his face so he’d look less well-fucked when he arrived at the door, but since he could still smell her on his lips that was probably a lost effort. His mouth watered as he entered the cool tile of the foyer and he realized he’d never put on shoes.

Fuck, wasn’t that professional?

Camille was making him a mess and a half, but he’d meant the promise he had made. There were options, there were always options – sometimes they were just hard ones.

When he looked through the peephole his heart stuttered as ice spilled down his back. Tony was standing on the other side of the door, and that was not a good sign. In fact, it was a fucking horrible one. Mateo reached into his pocket and fingered the switchblade that rested there, taking a little comfort at its presence and the weight of his gun against his back. With a deep breath he schooled his expression and put in the code to open the door.

“Mateo!” Tony gave him a smile and reached his hand out, forcing Mateo to leave the blade in his pocket to grasp his hand.

“Hey, man, what are you doing here? I thought -”

“Ah, yeah, Scarpa wanted me to come and assist. Try one last time to get the bitch to talk before we cut our losses.” He shrugged and stepped forward so that Mateo had no choice but to step aside and let him into the foyer. A large, old-fashioned black doctor’s bag hung from Tony’s hand and Mateo felt himself go cold.

No fucking way.

“I’m working through my process, and she’ll talk, so it’s not necessary for you to be here. After all, I don’t crash your parties, do I?”

“Scarpa is impatient. We don’t know who she is in Callahan’s organization, but if she’s some kind of call girl on his payroll then the old man might get a hard on for her and when she doesn’t answer – well, you know how it goes.” Tony shrugged and looked around the house. “Shit, I always forget how nice this place is.”

“Thanks,” Mateo mumbled. “Listen, it’s not even been two days, he’s not going to call some kind of alarm if she doesn’t answer.”

“Risks, man, risks. We’ve all got to be smart, and you know the boss. He’s still fuming over the last hit that took out Antonetti. No way that wasn’t Callahan, and so he’s not going to let this one go. If the girl has answers we need to get them out of her or bring her body to him.” He adjusted his grip on the bag and pointed towards the right hall. “Where’s she at? You got her locked up in the cell?”

“I’ve got it, Tony. Just let me do my thing.”

“No can do. I told Scarpa you wanted to meet with him and he said that you weren’t invited to a meeting unless you had an address or a corpse.” Tony laughed like he’d told a joke. “That’s why I’m here. We think maybe your methods won’t work as well with this one.
My
methods always work, one way or another.”

“My methods
are
working,” Mateo growled out through his teeth, showing way too much emotion, but there was no way in hell he was letting Tony within twenty feet of Camille.

Tony kicked one of the shards of glass on the floor with his shoe and looked back up at him. “You sure about that?”

“She had a tantrum. I’m handling it.”

“The number of hours you’ve had her say differently. It’s never taken you over a day to get anything. Time is up. Now, take me -” Tony froze, his mouth going slack as he looked past him towards the back of the house.

She wouldn’t
.

Mateo turned around and saw Camille standing near the hallway to his room, wearing his shirt again, her white blonde hair a vicious post-fucked mess that spoke volumes. Tony’s eyes widened and he dropped the bag, immediately going for his gun – but that wasn’t going to happen. Mateo grabbed the blade from his pocket, flicked it open and thrust it deep into Tony’s stomach without hesitation. Then he pulled it back and drove it in higher, between the ribs, puncturing the man’s lung. Finally, when there was enough blood spilling he looked at his face to see the shock and the panic as his skin went pale.

He was fading fast but Tony still raised his gun, a useless last effort. Mateo knocked it away and then plunged the knife into his throat feeling the blade scrape against bone. With a gurgle, Tony collapsed and Mateo shoved him back so he wouldn’t have to touch him further, but his hand was already soaked in the man’s blood.

As was the tile, and the grout. Fuck, that was going to be a mess.

Tony struggled for a moment more but then the light went out in his eyes and Mateo sighed, turning to catch the confused look on Camille’s face.

“What. The. Fuck.” She approached him slowly as he flicked blood from the knife and then he leaned down to wipe his hand and then the blade on a clean section of Tony’s shirt.

“Why didn’t you stay in my bedroom?” He stood back up and looked down at her as she gave him one of her best
fuck off
looks.

“Because I don’t like it when you’re bossy.”

“You seem to like it plenty when it results in you coming. Repeatedly.”

She rolled her eyes and pointed at Tony’s body that was still leaking blood all over his pristine floor.
Fucking dammit
. This is why he had the cell. “What just happened, Mateo?”

“I killed him.”

“Yes, I saw
that
, but why?” She wasn’t upset in the least that she had just watched him kill a man, and in a disturbing commentary on his life his cock twitched in his pants. Instead of answering her, he kicked over the doctor’s bag that had come open when Tony dropped it. A pair of pliers skidded over the tile and the pointed end of a drill poked out.

“He came here to get Callahan’s address out of you, or kill you while he tried.” He watched her expression and caught the slow swallow before she raised those perfect blue eyes back to his.

“Well, that would have been… messy.”

“This is where you say thank you.” Mateo almost grabbed his hair with the hand covered in blood, but he caught himself in time and grumbled. “Fuck, this just complicates things.”

“Was he your friend?”

He laughed. “No.” None of those bastards counted as friends, they were coworkers. Low-lifes he had to spend time around for the consistent and very lucrative paycheck that came from Scarpa. Tony had been decent at pool, and not bad to have around during March Madness, but the fact that the man lay dead on his floor was only upsetting because his blood was staining his God damned fucking grout. Mateo took a slow breath. “I haven’t heard a thank you.”

“Callahan was going to kill my brother.” Her response had his head swiveling so fast he got a head rush, but her monotone voice was deceptively calm. “That’s why I agreed to work for him. It’s why I’m on his payroll, and it’s why I can’t afford to give you his address. The kid is fourteen, and whether or not he’s only my half-brother, he doesn’t deserve a bullet just because my dad got his mom pregnant.”

“Shit.”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Are you two close?” He asked it quietly but her laughter was loud, and he arched an eyebrow at her.

“I’ve never even met the kid. He probably doesn’t know a thing about me, because from what I’ve found out in the last year my dad died when he was still young. Hazard for most drunken gamblers who borrow money from dickbags like Callahan.” She shook her head slowly and toed the pair of pliers near her bare feet. “I think that’s how he knew about Luke. Or he got pissed the last time I refused to go on his payroll and sent someone to find a weak spot.”

“If you’ve never met him -”

“I know.” She cut him off and growled, tearing a fist into her hair as she turned to walk away from him. “Trust me. I hate that I couldn’t just let it go, tell him to kill the kid and cut the noose before it was even around my neck, but he looks like me. I mean, a little like me. He has my hair, and before you ask I did my own research. I’m good at finding info when I need it, and he is
actually
related to me. It was a fucking unlucky star he was born under.”

“Not so bad having someone like you for an older sister.” Mateo tried to help, but she rolled her eyes.

“He wouldn’t even be in danger without having me for a sister.” She sighed. “This kid is so blissfully normal. He’s in high school, he plays basketball, he’s got a cute little girlfriend, and works at a pizza joint at night and on the weekends. And yeah, I’ve kind of stalked the shit out of him, but, hell, even his mom is the kind of mom I wish I’d had. She holds down a job, and -”

Camille cut herself off and Mateo couldn’t help but be shocked by the torrent of information that had flooded out of her. If he had known all it would take was stabbing one of the dicks he worked around, he would have invited one of them over sooner. “Okay… so?”

“So, that’s why I won’t give you Callahan’s address. If it was just me I’d take the risk. I’ve run from assholes like him before, but I can’t just throw this kid to the fucking wolves. I won’t.” She stared at the floor, and he stayed silent trying to think of the right words because this was not what he had expected.

Some sort of twisted loyalty? Maybe.

A rule not to kill the one who paid her? Logical.

But to let herself be blackmailed into working for Callahan over a kid she’d never even met? No. That wasn’t right, and
he
was the dick who had spent the last day torturing her for the information that would have guaranteed a bullet in the back of the kid’s head.
If
he was lucky enough for them to do it quick.

Mateo would kill pretty much anyone except for a kid, and although fourteen wasn’t young it was still too young to be caught in this shitstorm.

Fuck.

Camille stared at Mateo’s profile as he watched the slowly growing pool of blood leaking from under the man. He had killed for her, one of his own men, and he’d done it with a kind of cold, vicious efficiency that had left her more than a little impressed.

Worse? He had clearly taken it easy on her. The bastard.

Crossing her arms she chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure out what their next step was. When Mr. Dead Guy didn’t report back there’d be all kinds of problems. The ones that usually involved shooting a lot of people, which just sounded exhausting.

If she lived through this, she was taking a vacation. She fucking needed one.

“So, you said you were going to fix this. How do you plan to do that now?” Lifting her eyes back to him he glanced over at her with a tired expression. “What? You offered.”

“That was before I knew there was a kid hanging in the balance and before I gutted one of Scarpa’s favorite sociopaths.”

“You’re not his favorite?” Camille grinned.

“I’m
one
of them.” He gave her a chilling smile that made her pussy clench and her blood run hot.

Fuck, why did that turn her on?

“You sure we can’t just let him take the kid out? It would solve a lot of problems at once.” Mateo paused with his clean hand fisting his hair, offering her the solution as if it were that simple.

She stared him down, refusing to even play around with the option in her head. After all she was still a little ashamed at how long it had taken her that day to accept the deal that kept the kid alive. Once she had even gone to the pizza shop Luke worked in, tired of Callahan’s bullshit and determined to kill the kid herself so that at least she’d know he hadn’t suffered – but he had been smiling and laughing with his coworkers.

So blissfully fucking normal and untarnished.

It had been like gazing through a looking glass at an alternate reality of what her own life could have been if her mother hadn’t been an addict, and her father hadn’t been an absent drunk who usually just showed up to randomly crash on their floor. So, instead of following Luke and killing him, she’d sat in silence and eaten a slice of pepperoni, and felt a strange satisfaction that at least one of them had a real life.

“No, Mateo.” Camille shook her head.

“Fine.” He pointed back towards his room. “Go shower. The code is 4116. I’m going to try and clean up this mess.”

Camille smiled. “Giving me your code?”

“I’ll change it later. Trust me.” Mateo snapped his fingers and pointed again. “Go.”