Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (21 page)

BOOK: Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2)
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“Are you joking!? Didn't you just get done banging some chick?” Lily was surprised.

“So crass, love, you know I hate that. I finished making very passionate love to an exquisite divorcée, who quite frankly really needed it.
Now
I'm going to go '
bang some chicks
'. Ta,” he said, then walked out of the room.

“He's such a slut,” she grumbled, turning to watch him head down the stairs. There was movement behind her, and she realized Marc was standing at her back.

“Tell me something,” he started, grabbing her shoulders and slowly turning her around. “How did this happen?”

Lily looked down at where his finger was now stroking her skin. She was only wearing tight running shorts and a sports bra, exposing most of her body. He was touching her scar, the same one he had noticed back in Miami when he'd crawled over her. She lifted her hand and slid the strap off her shoulder.

“This is what happens when you don't pay attention,” she chuckled, smoothing her own fingers over the scar. “We were training with knives.”

“Wait … this didn't happen on a job?” Marc sounded surprised, and he leaned closer to examine the wound.

“No. We were still in Thailand. I found this fancy knife set in Kingsley's gym. You know the kind, all the sharp little knives, with fat handles?”

“Jesus, they're called throwing knives.”

“Shut up. Yeah, so, I found his throwing knives. He caught me messing around with them – I hadn't exactly asked first,” she continued.


Kingsley
did this to you!?” Marc almost yelled it.

“Not necessarily on purpose. He was pissed off that I was playing with a weapon I wasn't trained to handle. So he gave me an impromptu lesson. It's my fault – I should've zigged when I zagged. He wasn't going hard on me or anything. He was really upset about it, actually. There I am, with a fucking knife sticking out of my shoulder, and he was the one freaking out. I even had to pull it out myself,” she chuckled.

“That's fucked up.”

“Please, like you haven't had something like that happen to you. And on the bright side, I'm pretty deadly with a blade now.”

He stared at the scar for a long moment, then his eyes wandered over her body. Lily stayed completely still, letting him appraise her.

“I was so stupid,” he mumbled, one of his hands moving to touch the huge, ugly bruise that was covering her ribs where the bean bag shot had hit her.

“A little bit. But hey, it's one of the things I like about you,” she teased. He snorted.

“Cause it makes you look smarter.”

“Exactly.”

He suddenly leaned in close and his hand moved to the back of her head. Before she even knew what his intention was, he was kissing her temple and whispering in her ear.

“Enough talking. Come to bed.”

Then he was striding down the hallway, pulling off his belt as he disappeared into his designated room.

Lily slowly followed him, then leaned against the doorway and watched as he stripped off his shoes and pants.

“Does it feel weird to you at all?” she asked. He glanced at her

“What?”

“All this. Two weeks ago, I was trying super hard to convince myself that I hated you.”

“Two weeks ago, I was trying super hard to convince myself that checking up on you would be a bad idea.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Turned out I was right – would've been a waste of time. You found me, instead.”

“If I shoot him and we get out of this whole thing alive, are you just going to leave?”

Boom. Bomb dropped. She hadn't meant to ask. Things had been going well, they'd reached a sort of negative space. They could talk and flirt, be friends. But the question had been lurking around in the back of her mind and she'd just blurted it out.

“You know what's weird,” he started, and his voice was so casual, it threw her off guard. “I thought absence would dull my memories of you. That you would fade out, bleed into all the background noise.”

“I tried to make you fade away,” she commented, and he smiled.

“Didn't work, did it? I would hear your laugh sometimes, or smell your scent.”

“My scent!?”

“Yeah. That lavender smell that's all around you, what is that shit?”

Lily was blown away.

“My lotion?”

“It's all I can smell sometimes. It would hit me out of nowhere. But worse than that – your eyes. I would close my eyes, and I would see you looking back at me. I'm a fucking idiot, cause I told you, remember? Just your eyes. Always your eyes,” he sighed.

“That's actually really romantic, Marc.”

“Isn't it, though?”

“But it doesn't answer my question.”

He sighed and moved away from the mattress. A case of water rested on a couple of empty boxes, and he pulled out a bottle. Guzzled down half the contents before stopping to take a breath.

“I don't know what to tell you. I'm not going to run away, but I don't know what's going on, either,” he finally said. “And how can you be sure? You've built up this thing with Kingsley, you're … partners. Shit, just watching you guys – it's like you don't even have to speak to each other, you just
know
what the other wants. You and I aren't like that.”

“You and I made a good team,” she reminded him.

“Princess, I nearly got you killed on multiple occasions.”

“Yeah, and you also saved me on multiple occasions.”

“Not the same thing. I'm just some bum, Lily. I barrel from one explosive situation to the next. I don't have some mansion in an exotic country, I don't know what silverware goes with which course. In fact, I don't even fucking care. And I will never wear a goddamn suit,” he said quickly.

“You think I care whether or not you wear a suit? Do you really think I'm that shallow? I was in Africa, too, you know. I busted my ass, I got just as down and dirty as you. I'm hearing a lot of excuses, De Sant. If you want this to end at Stankovski's death, then grow some balls and just say it,” she snapped.

“I'm not saying anything,” he yelled back. “You asked what I thought was going to happen, and I'm telling you I don't know. I'm telling you that you need to fucking think about what
you
really want. You've spent a lot of time with Law, and we're two very different guys. You two seem suited to each other. You're friends. You and me … we're just not like that, and you need to think about that before you decide siding with me is such a good idea.”

Lily almost laughed as she fully realized what was going on. Marc was jealous. Not that she might have slept with Kingsley or be romantically involved with him, or of their amazing team work, but that she was
friends
with him. Though of course, she hadn't been with Marc long enough to truly become his friend.

Then what are we?

“I think you and I could be good friends,” she told him. He smirked.

“I'm not real big on friends, sweetheart.”

He lifted the water bottle back to his lip and Lily started walking towards him. By the time she reached his side, he'd almost drunk the whole bottle of water. She yanked it out of his hand and sucked down the remaining liquid.


Very
good friends,” she informed him, then leaned into his chest, pressing flat against him. He looked at her through narrowed eyes.

“Hmmm. I'm intrigued. Explain what goes into being very good friends,” he demanded. She thought for a second.

“Well, they can talk to each other, and they can have arguments and fights, but they always make up,” she began. “They have each others backs. They
don't
lie to one another, and they don't disappear and leave behind shitty letters.”

“These people sound boring as fuck.”

“And they don't hit each other, or -”

“What if one of them is a really big bitch?”

“Then he should stop being a bitch.”


Watch it
.”

“And sometimes a very good friend might be -”

“These people still sound lame, you're not selling me on anything.”

“ - might be willing to suck the other friend's dick.”


Sold
.”

Marc wasn't a whole lot taller than her, but it felt like his mouth was traveling a ridiculous distance to meet hers, so Lily stood on her toes and met him halfway. She didn't even give him a chance to be sweet, she just shoved her tongue in his mouth and raked her fingers across his scalp. He hissed, and she gasped when his hands gripped her bare waist hard enough that she felt friction.

She'd been so mad at him Miami. And hurt, and upset, and all those adjectives that made a person want to cry. So he'd been sweet to her, and had touched more than her body. He'd touched her heart, something she'd worked very hard to lock away. Silly woman, what had she been thinking? He was a mercenary, after all. He could get to anything if he wanted it bad enough. So of course stealing a heart wasn't a problem for Marcelle De Sant.

But Lily didn't want sweet anymore. She was nervous and excited, and she was anxious, all the adjectives that made a person want to
explode
. She wanted the man who'd held her down in the back seat of a car. Bent her over a table in a cabin.

He is a mercenary, after all …

Apparently, Marc got the hint. He swung her around and shoved her against the wall. She kicked off her shoes while he pulled off her sports bra. She tried to reach for his shirt as well, but he was already pushing and shoving her shorts over hips, causing them to puddle at her feet.

While she kicked the lycra away, he finally took his shirt off and she resisted moaning. She loved his body, how big he was, how built. Like nothing could get through him. Like he couldn't possibly get hurt.

“So all those months, you were just thinking about my eyes and the smell of lavender, huh?” she asked, leaning forward to kiss across his chest.

“No. Sometimes I thought about this amazing car I used to own, a '67 Chevelle, I -,
HEY!
” he ended in a shout when she bit down on him.

“Do you want to know what I thought about?” she asked. He pushed her away.


No
.”

He leaned in close, his mouth moving along her neck while his hands moved into the back of her underwear, gripping her ass. She writhed against him, wanting to be closer, faster.

“I spent a lot of time imagining different ways of killing you,” she told him anyway.

“Sexy talk, sweetheart.”

“Mmm hmmm. I thought about finding you, and tying you up, and torturing you, and collecting your bounty. Just to prove that I could,” she continued.

“I don't doubt that you could've.”

“But sometimes … sometimes I thought about this,” she whispered, working her hand down the front of his boxers. He groaned as her hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

“God, I thought about this all the time,” he panted, letting his forehead drop to her breastbone when her hand picked up speed.

“All the time?”

“Like a running loop, in my brain. That's probably why I was so shitty without you – lack of blood flow to my brain due to raging hard ons,” he said, and she burst out laughing. He chuckled as well.

“Wow, De Sant, I'm flattered.”

He jerked away from her abruptly, and before she could say anything, he was yanking her to the side. She stumbled into the pile of boxes and water, then felt him put his hand on her back, forcing her down. She fell flat against the case of bottles, bracing her hands next to her head.

“I thought about this,” he whispered, leaning close to her and running his hands over the sides of her breasts. “And this.” They swept down her back and over her ass, his fingers squeezing. “But most of all,
this
.”

As her underwear was dragged down her legs, she could feel him lowering himself till he was almost kneeling. Then he was slowly making his way back up, kissing the back of her calf, nibbling at her knee, giving small licks to the insides of her thighs. Then his hands replaced his mouth, and she gasped as his face moved in between her legs. One quick swipe of his tongue and she was done playing games. She gave a full body shudder and groaned.

“Yes, yes, this. Missed this so much,” she breathed. He stood up and slapped her on the ass before sliding his middle finger deep inside of her. She gasped and moved onto her toes.

“Did you? Did you think about this, during all those nights with him?”

She would've laughed, if she'd been able to catch her breath.

“All the time. I thought about you all the time,” she assured him, hiking her hips up higher for him.

“Even when you were fucking those other men?”

Um … what?

“What other men?” she asked, moving to prop herself up. His free hand went flat against her back and held her down.

“In Colombia. You said you'd been fucking men who were attracted to you,” he growled. She started laughing hard, which only made her even more aware of the finger moving inside of her, and she began to feel lightheaded.

BOOK: Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2)
8.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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