What I Fight For: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 1) (24 page)

              And what else would I do?

              Any fucking thing I wanted.

              Pinning her below me, her giant tits squashed against my chest, I wedged myself between her legs and thrust my cock in one powerful plunge without any warning.

              Victoria immediately arched against me, her husky voice crying out in surprise and pleasure. Her pussy was as wet as I had expected it to be. My cock had slid in easily. I could feel the walls of her pussy pulsing and clenching against my surprise intrusion.

              But I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to pause.
No chance to catch your breath, sweetheart.

              Tonight, I wanted to fuck my anger away. Tonight, I wanted to fuck my rage away.

              I thrust in and out in long, powerful drives that left Victoria shuddering beneath me. I leaned down and took her lips, giving her a bruising kiss that I knew would leave her lips swollen for hours.

              “Oh god, daddy!” Victoria cried out in that low, husky voice. “Yes, daddy!”

              I thrust in harder and faster, feeling my release near.

              I closed my eyes.

              I thrust in and out harder and faster until I heard Victoria scream in release and I groaned in mine.

              But when I opened my eyes again, I saw that any kind of release was an illusion. This was still very much hell.

Chapter
Three
Halle

              I silently followed the burly guard towards what looked like a large open den. It was richly decorated in dark leathers and heavy furniture. I tried to take it all in without looking like a petrified mouse.

             
I was in the Desmond Family compound!

              I never knew why people called it a compound. That made it sound like the home of some weird Texan cult that was in the middle of nowhere. But space is at a premium in a place like Los Angeles. There is no “middle of nowhere” here.

              The Desmond Family compound was actually an enormous mansion in the Holmby Hills. Twenty six rooms, two indoor pools, three outdoor pools, a home theater, a petting zoo, a helipad, a separate 10,000 square foot garage filled with vintage cars—this was not your average compound. This was the absolute pinnacle of luxury. 

              And here I was, standing in the private den of Roy Desmond.

              I smoothed down my skirt, hoping nothing had gotten wrinkled on the way here. I glanced behind me at the wide open archway. This den was clearly not private. If I was not having a private meeting with Roy Desmond, then how could I get close enough to—

              “You the new numbers man?” a gruff voiced said from behind.

              I whirled around, my hair nearly whipping me in the face. Behind me stood the notorious Roy Desmond.

              Six feet tall and over two hundred and fifty pounds, the man was a force to be reckoned with. His eyes were flinty and low and his face covered in rough stubble. He gave me a suspicious glare that made my toes turn numb.

              But steeling myself, I nodded and said, “I don’t know much about the man part but yes, I’m your new accounts manager.”

              A brow rose at my response before Roy huffed a laugh and walked around towards the large walnut desk that sat across from me.

              That was the cover I had been given.

              Roy Desmond was very paranoid. Increasingly so with age. He had multiple accountants taking care of different parts of the family business with only him at the top knowing all of the workings. That way, it was hard for any one accountant to steal from him and it was nearly impossible for any of them to testify against him. They only knew what he allowed them to know.

              And now Roy was looking for a new accountant for some new deals that he clearly didn’t want to have any of his older hands managing.

              “And you’re perfect for the role,” Agent Hadfield had said. “You have literally no record and your job history with the Bureau can be obfuscated. You’ll look like a clean slate to Desmond, which is exactly what he would want.”

              “Wouldn’t experience matter?” I had asked, unsure about the plan. “Experience in something illegal, I mean?”

              Agent Truman huffed a laugh. “Hell no,” he said. “Desmond hates that. If you’ve dabbled in crime, it means you’re criminal and can’t be trusted, as batshit as that logic is. He likes to hire clean people and they don’t come any cleaner than you.”

             
Aside from the fact that I work for the freaking FBI.

              Roy sat with a loud grunt into his thick leather armchair. He gave me another long hard look.

              I tried to look nervous (which wasn’t hard
at all
) but also competent and calm. I had to show him that I was ready to take on whatever kind of crooked work he was about to dole out to me.

              “You’re the first broad to ever have this job,” Roy said.

              I didn’t know how I should respond. I wasn’t surprised by this information.

              “But when I asked my men to look up someone good, you came up in the pile of candidates. And you have a good background. Worked for Camden & Lane, did you? Prestigious firm,” he said.

              I nodded. “For a year and a half,” I responded. “I was their executive accounts manager for the domestic end. But I do also have some experience with foreign accounts.”
And then I gave that all up to join the FBI but let’s keep that to myself, why don't we.

              Roy stared at me for a moment longer before giving a shrug. “Whatever, sweetheart,” he said. “In the end, who cares if you’re a woman or a man? As long as you get your shit done and keep your lips closed, I could give a flying fuck who was doing the work.”

              Who would’ve thought a criminal kingpin would be more progressive about gender equality than the FBI? Color me surprised.

              “I have some deals coming up soon,” Roy said vaguely. My thighs tensed. Agent Hadfield and Truman were quite sure I was being hired to manage the Juarez deals but we wouldn’t have firm confirmation of that until I began working.

              “I need a good pair of eyes to make sure it goes through smoothly,” he said. Roy made an expansive gesture with a hand. “I also want you to clean up some old deadweight that was left by your predecessor.”

              That stopped me short. My predecessor?

              Roy grinned, showing off two gold teeth, when he noticed my reaction. “He got a little too nosy and a little too greedy for my tastes,” he said abstractly. “And I don’t like keeping people like that around.” He fixed a steely gaze directly on me.

              For half a second, I had almost forgotten who I was talking to. But looking at the mobster in front of me, I realized that this employer doesn’t fire you when he’s unhappy. He kills you.

              I knew this mission would be dangerous. I had prepared for that. But no amount of mental preparation is enough to prepare you for the real thing. To sit in front of a man who has killed possibly hundreds of men and can casually mention another hit like he was talking about the weather takes a lot more out of you than any mental exercise can prepare you for.

              “I understand,” I said in a clear voice.

              Roy nodded. He looked out at the archway where two guards stood sentry. One of them made a gesture towards him.

              “Fine then,” he said, rising heavily to his feet. “I have other matters to see to. An escort will come by and pick you up. Wait here.”

              And without so much as a goodbye, he left along with one of his guards. One guard remained by the archway though, clearly ordered to watch the new hire.

              I sat back and sighed.

              The escort would be taking me to my new rooms. Roy Desmond was too paranoid to let his employees live wherever they wanted. If you worked for the Desmond family, you lived where he told you to live. And Agent Hadfield and Truman had told me that since I would most likely be working on the Juarez case, I would be right under his thumb.

              I was about to move into the Desmond Family compound.

              I ran a hand through my hair, accidentally loosening the careful bun I had pinned in this morning. My whole body felt as exhausted as if I had just run a marathon. As soon as I got to my new room, I was going to pass out.

              But, I thought with a small smile, I did it. I was hired. I had passed the first hurdle.

              My plan to show the Bureau just what I was made of was already on its way to success.

              I looked across the desk at the plush leather seat. I knew a large part of the success was actually thanks to Roy Desmond. My real target was Marco Desmond and I had worried that he would be present during my interview. I didn’t know how I could possibly keep a straight face in front of Roy Desmond while simultaneously trying to seduce his son, Marco Desmond.

              No, it was good and extremely lucky that I wouldn’t see Marco until much later. That way I could prepare myself and possibly learn a little about what made him—

              “Who the hell are you?”

              I froze in my seat, not wanting to turn around. That voice was definitely not the gruff and grizzled voice of Roy Desmond.

              No, that voice had a low timbre of power with a steely edge of strength. This was a different voice. But it couldn’t be. I had just been thinking about how lucky I was.

              Slowly, I turned in my seat.

              There in the archway, standing tall and broad like a Greek statue, stood Marco Desmond, the son of the most powerful mafia in the country.

              And he was glaring right at me.

Chapter Four
Halle

              “Who the hell are you?” Marco repeated.

              I immediately stood up, nearly knocking my chair back in my haste. I watch with my heart in my throat as Marco stepped into the den, walking straight towards me.              

              The man was tall. Much taller than I had expected. I had of course seen his file at the FBI and all his stats but seeing every inch of his 6’4 frame hover over me was a lot different than reading it on a piece of paper.

              Even with a suit on, I could tell every ounce of his body was pure muscle. You could see it in the way he walked. His every movement was controlled. There was a grace to him that spoke of the immense power he held back. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him.

              Standing only inches from me, he leaned down, his lethally dark eyes close to mine.

              “I said,” he drawled quietly, his voice like an ice cube down my spine, “who are you?”

              “HalleMargot,” I said in one quick breath. Fisting my hands, I tried to remind myself of my mission. With a small smile, I said again in a softer, slower voice. “I’m Halle Margot.”

              Marco carefully looked me over. From the top of my head to the toes of my shoes, his gaze roved over me. But unlike the chauvinist training agent who had done the same, Marco’s gaze left me on fire. Every part of me burned in the wake of his gaze.

              “Well, Halle Margot,” he said slowly in a voice that sounded like dark caramel, “what the hell are you doing here?”

             
Remember, you can’t be seductive if you’re shaking. So man up, Margot!

              Giving him another smile, I said, “I’m your new accounts manager.”

              An eyebrow rose. “
My
accounts manager?”

              “Well, the Desmond Family’s, I mean.”

              Marco stared at me for a moment, his face suspicious. “I wasn’t told we were hiring a new one,” he said slowly, clearly bothered at this lack of information.

              I shrugged. “Well, I just spoke with Mr. Desmond right now and he’s hired me to manage some new transactions.”

              Marco ran a tongue under his lip as he seemed to measure me up. “He hired
you
to do that?” he said.

              I bristled at his tone of voice. Did he think I couldn’t do it? I wouldn’t think the younger Desmond was less progressive than the older one.

              “Yes, he did,” I said with a bit of emphasis in my tone.

              A glimmer suddenly entered his eyes. The corners of his lips twitched upwards in a way that made my heart stammer. He leaned closer to me.

              “You’re telling me a girl with your face in a place like this was hired to manage
accounts
?” he said slowly, his voice rolling and low.

              “Well, what else would I manage?” I nearly snapped from nervousness. My eyes widened almost immediately though at my words. I could’ve bitten my tongue.

              A knowing grin finally crossed his face, transforming him from gorgeous to dangerously seductive. He reached out and grabbed my hand.

              I pulled back instinctively in surprise at his touch but he kept his grip and pulled my unwilling hand towards him. His large hand nearly swallowed my own, easily closing around my wrist.

              He placed my hand on his chest. I could feel the heat of him radiating through his shirt. The steady
bump bump bump
of his heart pulsed beneath my palm.

              “I don’t know,” he said slowly. He began to trail my hand down his chest. I could feel every carved muscle across the planes of his stomach. Was nothing on this man soft? He felt like he was carved from marble.

              I sucked in a sharp breath as he kept pulling my hand lower, past his waist, past his hips.

              “What do you
think
you can manage?” he said, amusement clear as day in his voice.

              My hand was just inches away from the growing hardness below when a voice called out from behind us, “Miss Margot? I’m here to escort you to your rooms.”

              I immediately pulled back in surprise and this time Marco let go.

              I stared up at him, breathing as hard as if we had just been fucking right on the floor in plain sight.

              His hooded eyes were warm and sultry as they looked me over. A faint smile still played at his lips.

              “Miss Margot?” the escort called out.

              I licked my lips, my throat feeling suddenly quite dry. “Yes, yes,” I answered a little breathlessly. “I’m coming.”

              A flicker of amusement passed through Marco’s eyes at my last words.

              I pushed past him towards the waiting escort.

              I definitely need to bite my tongue out.