Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1) (11 page)

BOOK: Lethal Sin (Dangerous Games Book 1)
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“Bossy motherfucker.” She rolled her eyes and he muttered under his breath as she walked away. It felt weird for him to know the secret she’d held so tightly for a year, and she still wasn’t sure why she’d actually said it aloud.

As she stripped and stepped under the hot water her mind spun. Why
had
she done it?

It had probably been because she’d just seen him kill a man to keep her safe. That didn’t happen in their world.

If he were sane he would have handed her over, protected himself, and moved on to some other piece of ass. Instead, he had chosen to fuck up his whole universe for her.

Idiot
.

Camille scrubbed at her hair and couldn’t deny that she was an idiot too. Playing guardian angel to some kid because of a few strands of DNA felt worse than stupid, and there was nothing in her life rules that made her decision okay. She’d learned young that the safest kind of life was one where you had no attachments to anyone. No expectations of those around you – because when you never expected someone to be there for you, you were never surprised when they weren’t. With a curse she flipped off the water and stepped out onto the rug, soaking it as she wandered across the bathroom to snag a dry towel from a shelf. As she was drying off she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Bruises everywhere, the cut at her neck had reopened when she had rubbed at it in the shower so it was actively bleeding again, and she looked fucking exhausted.

“You’re a real winner right now, C.” She sighed at her train wreck of a reflection.

But Mateo had called her beautiful.

She shook her head as if she could shake loose some kind of reasoning. What the fuck was his angle?

Mateo had fed her, fucked her into a soaking mess, called her beautiful, and killed for her.

Of course, he had also kicked her ass, tortured her, played a twisted game of freeze out, and practically sent her to a loony bin with his little box of horror – so why was she already wondering if they had time to fuck once more before the whole world fell apart around them?

“I ordered you some clothes. I guessed at your size, so don’t throw a fit if they’re too big, I wanted you to be able to wear them.” Mateo was leaning against the door to his bathroom, his dark eyes roaming over her naked body.

“So you’re not planning on keeping me chained up in your basement like some kind of sex slave?”

“Of course not. I keep all of my sex slaves upstairs. Do you know how expensive it is to heat a basement?” He grinned at her and she tossed the towel at his chest, flipping him off before turning away to finger comb her hair to the best of her ability.

“Did you come up with a plan? Or did you spend all of that time chopping the dead guy into tiny pieces?”

Mateo let out a huff of breath. “I just wrapped him in a sheet and threw him in the cell, but the only solution I can come up with is that we go get the kid ourselves.”

“We’re not killing him.”

“You’ve made that abundantly clear, but if we have him in hand then Callahan can’t kill him. You can give me the address, Scarpa can go put him six feet under, and then you’re out.” He shrugged. “It’s the only solution.”

“I never wanted the kid involved in this.”

“That kid is already involved, doll face, and if we don’t get him then someone else will and they’ll probably have a similar bag of tricks to Tony.” Mateo’s dull voice made her cringe inwardly because although she’d maintained a calm expression standing by the corpse, the sight of those tools tumbling from the bag had made her want to throw up. She had made it twenty-seven years without having someone drill a hole into her thigh, and she planned on never experiencing it. Ever.

“Shit. How in the hell am I going to get him to come with us? He doesn’t even know me.”

“It’s not a negotiation, Camille. We’ll grab him and throw him in my trunk.”

She turned to glare at him. “Seriously?”

“What? He’ll be
alive
won’t he?” Mateo shrugged. “He won’t get hurt as long as he doesn’t struggle.”

“Why are you even trying to help me?”

He took a slow breath in and let it out even slower, his dark eyes were focused on her but his expression gave nothing away. She could imagine the gears in his head turning the same way hers were, second-guessing every stupid decision they’d both made based on emotions that neither of them could afford to feel. Finally he shifted to lean on the other side of the doorframe and spoke, “Will you give me Callahan’s address once you know the kid is safe?”

“Sure. Although once the kid is safe you may have to fight me for who gets to pull the trigger that puts Callahan in the dirt.” Camille tilted her head at him and he laughed a little.

“Deal. I’ll kick your ass again whenever you like.”

“Fuck off.”

“No thanks, I’d rather fuck your sweet pussy again.” He grinned. “Actually, I think we have a bit before the clothes will get here.”

The gush of wetness between her thighs meant her body was more than ready for another round if he was, but then a peppy guitar strum picked up from his pants and she laughed. “Cock-blocked by your phone?”

“This isn’t my phone,” he muttered as he pulled it out of his pocket, cursed, and then tapped the screen to silence it.

“Mr. Dead Guy?” She asked and he glanced up at her.

“Yeah. Looks like our boss is already wanting an update from him.” Just before he finished speaking the phone began ringing again and he growled as he silenced it.

“Persistent asshole, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea.” He glanced at the screen before landing that scorching gaze on her skin again. “Unfortunately, that means we probably don’t have enough time for me to do all the things I want to do to you.”

“Such as?” She asked, leaning back against the counter before she hopped up onto it, spreading her knees a little. The way his eyes dropped to focus between her thighs had a shiver rushing down her spine.

“You want details?”

“No. I want you to show me.”

 

 

Camille leaned back on her hands, offering herself up like a sacrifice, and he didn’t care about anything that was happening because what he wanted more than anything was to feel his cock inside her again. It only took a few steps to be between her thighs, and he ran his hands over her legs, tracing the bruises he’d left behind, marking her as his. He wanted to nip them with his teeth. He wanted to hear her whimper in pain, and cry out in pleasure, and scream his name.

“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered and pushed her thighs farther apart. She smiled and slid her hand over her hip, running a single finger up the length of her wet slit. He could see all of her soft folds glistening in the light and it made him want to taste her again, fuck her again, tie her down and make her come until she blacked out.

Fuck
. There was a never-ending list of what he wanted to do with her body.

“You want me to fuck you again?”

She nodded slowly and sucked her lower lip between her teeth as she slid a finger deep into her pussy, a low moan rising out of her. His cock strained against his zipper and he knew he couldn’t drag this out or he was about to come in his pants like a teenager. Slamming Tony’s phone down on the counter beside her he tore his belt open and dropped his fly to get to his erection – and then
his
phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Dangerously close to his balls, which made him shiver for several reasons.

“Dammit,” he growled and yanked his phone out. Camille froze so he laid his other hand over hers, shoving two fingers roughly inside her as he forced her finger back in. She groaned and knocked her head back against the mirror, spitting curses as her hips humped up against his hand. “Shhh, doll, I have to take this.”

Her shocked expression made him smirk as he kept his fingers buried in her wet pussy, teasing her with small movements while he answered the phone with his free hand.

“Yes?”

“Mateo, would you care to tell me why Tony isn’t answering my calls?” Scarpa’s voice was tinged with his Italian accent, and completely calm. But then Mateo had seen him be calm just before he shot someone in the face at a dinner party.

Locking eyes with Camille he fucked her with his fingers, thoroughly enjoying the way her silky wetness clamped down on him as she rocked her hips and used her other hand to rub her clit. Completely unabashed as she sought an orgasm. He smiled at her and spoke low, “That would be because I killed him.”

“What?” The angry silence on the other side of the line didn’t have Mateo too concerned, but the look of lust that had just passed over Camille’s face as he’d said those words had his cock throbbing between his legs.

“He showed up here claiming he was going to take over my job. I felt like that was a threat to my standing in the organization, and so rather than wait for him to turn that pretty little drill bit on me, I stabbed him in the throat.” Mateo’s mouth was watering as Camille started to rise to the edge, small murmurs of pleasure escaping her mouth even though she was biting down on her lip to try and keep quiet. “I don’t take threats well, Scarpa.”

“This is unacceptable.” The man covered the phone and mumbled something to someone, so Mateo took the opportunity to pin the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and reach forward to twist one of her nipples. He was rewarded with a high-pitched whine slipping between her clenched teeth as he tightened his fingers, and then she came hard. Her juices dripped down to the counter underneath her, and she reached for his hand to pull his touch deeper and he obliged.

Damn, she’s hot.

“Listen, I’m busy. Are we done?” Mateo grinned when Camille nodded in answer and lifted her hips harder against him. He tugged her hand out of the way and thrust three of his fingers inside her, stretching her wide so that she was whimpering and groaning quietly, trying to stay silent.

Just one more minute and that’s going to be my cock, doll face.

He growled. “Scarpa, I’m hanging up.”

“Listen, if I don’t get Callahan’s address in the next twelve hours, you better show up with a corpse. Got it?” The threat made his jaw clench, but it was hard to hold onto the anger when he was about to fuck Camille on the counter. He forced his fingers a little deeper and she hissed air through her teeth before biting down on a moan.

“Can I bring Tony’s corpse? She’s got a sweet cunt and I kind of like listening to her scream.” Her low groan and the way her pussy tightened around his fingers meant she liked what she’d heard, and he grinned down at her.

“You’re a sick fuck, Mateo, and no I don’t want his body. Take care of it. All of it.” Scarpa hung up on him, but he could care less. He shoved the phones across the counter and slid his soaked fingers from her and pressed them to her lips. She sucked them in and the way her tongue ran over his skin he knew he wanted to be in her throat before all of this was over. But first… he yanked her forward by her hips, laying her back until she had to prop herself on her elbows so her head didn’t end up against the mirror. He didn’t care what she had to do in order to make the position work because he couldn’t wait any longer.

Not after the show she had just put on.

“Apparently, if I don’t get the address from you in the next twelve hours I’m supposed to kill you and bring your corpse to Scarpa.” Mateo shoved his pants and his boxers out of the way so he could grab his cock – he was way too sensitive right now to fuck around.

“Like hell that’s going to happen.” Camille panted, focused on the hard flesh in his grip.

“Just what I was thinking, I need you for at least another twenty-four hours.” He lined up and thrust home, bottoming out in one stroke that had her crying out and her head smacking into the mirror. He laughed and did it again, reveling in the stream of curses she pelted him with as her voice rose louder, her pussy clenching him, moans interspersed as he fucked her mercilessly until she came hard around him. It was just what he needed to push him over the edge and his balls tightened as he spilled inside her again, loving the way her slick channel gripped him again and again.

The fuck was quick, but mind-blowing – just like their time together.

Screw Scarpa and screw Callahan, he wasn’t going to lose this girl just after he’d found her. As if she could read his face she sat up and wrapped her legs around his hips, digging her nails into the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss. He gladly met her lips, tasting her pussy juices on her tongue which made him wish they had time for more play – hours,
days
of more play – but they didn’t.

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