He carries me to the bedroom and gently lays me down against the sheets, pushing my laptop onto the floor. All I can hear is our loud breathing and my blood pumping in my ears. He kisses along my jaw and down my neck, heat shooting through me each time his lips connect with my skin. His next kiss is just below my collarbone, and I can’t stop the shiver than runs through me as my breathing hitches. I can feel him smiling against my skin realising he found my sweet spot. He slowly runs his tongue below my collarbone and I let out another moan. My hands make their way down his toned clothed body to his ass. I slide my hands inside his joggers and briefs and squeeze his bare ass pulling him forward, eager for friction and he gives it to me. He presses himself against my pussy and I can feel just how hard he is and it’s making my pussy throb in anticipation and need. His lips make their way back up my neck and his hands dive under my top. His hands feel so soft against my skin, and I just
Waking up I feel something heavy around my midsection. Glancing down I see a toned, tanned hairy arm and I instinctively smile. My whole body is still buzzing from last night and I realise I need to crack a window open because the room smells like two people spent hours having sex, which is accurate. It’s not very professional of me to get into bed with the enemy but I don’t regret it. That man is as skilled at giving pleasure as I am at giving pain. He can be gentle, and he can be rough and when he mixes the two? Oh, baby. Not wanting to wake him, I carefully slide out from under his arm and make my way to the bathroom and get in the shower. I’m halfway done, having just finished with my hair when I hear the shower door open and arms snake around my waist making me smirk. “Thought you might like some company,” he says against my ear. I look back at him, my eyes trailing the droplets of water coating his body and for just a moment I’m envious of them. “I didn’t realise showering is
I slowly realise someone is calling for my attention and look up to see Alec standing there with a towel around his waist and a concerned look on his face. “What happened? Is everything alright?” He asks in concern. “I have to leave,” I say flatly as I walk to the bedroom and grab my suitcase and start packing as I place the envelope on the bed. Alec walks in a minute later, “Wait, what do you mean you have to leave? Like you have to go somewhere?” He asks in confusion. “No, as in I have to go home,” I tell him as I continue to pack. He grabs my suitcase and yanks it away from me, “Just stop and tell me what’s going on,” he demands. “I have to go home and see my parents and take care of some things.” “When will you be back?” He asks sadly. “I might not come back,” I say bluntly. “So you’re just going to up and leave just like that? You look like you can’t get out of here fast enough,” he says angrily. Wow, he’s really upset. He’s also overreacting, and I can’t suppress my eye
After a long, tedious, and uncomfortably silent flight, the jet finally lands home. Marcel doesn’t hesitate to grab the bags and exit the jet to put them in the car while I try to wake Alec up. Alec didn’t bombard me with his usual never-ending list of questions during the flight, which was a good thing, as it gave me time to think and mentally prepare. After I told him everything about The Tournament he became extremely quiet and eventually fell asleep, which gave Marcel and me plenty of time to discuss what to do moving forward. “Alec?” I softly call, giving him a slight shake to jostle him awake. He awakes with a start, instinctively wrapping his hand around my throat in a vice-like grip, his eyes looking frantic as they search for a threat. Not the reaction I was expecting, but pretty reasonable given I did stalk and abduct him with plans to kill him. Plans I haven’t given up on just yet. Recognition dawns in his eyes and he’s quick to release my throat from his grasp. I rub and
Mum and I enjoy a nice cup of tea outside, and I explain to her everything that happened from the moment I got the contract, until now. She didn’t say a word or interrupt me once. Just let me tell her the whole story while she listened intently. “But now you have another problem. Who would watch him when we're not here? You know your father and I are expected to attend The Tournament as guests, and we’re not letting you go through this alone. It’s a miracle you’ve survived the last three, let alone won, but how long can that streak last?” She asks in concern, reaching out and taking my hand. “I’m aware this might be the year I die, but I don’t want to get in that headspace. As for Alec, perhaps grandpa or Marcel can watch him. Even if he’s left alone, it’s not as though he’d be able to escape. We’re miles away from people and he doesn’t speak the language. He’s basically trapped here,” I grin. “And I thought the situation with your father was complicated,” she says, shaking her hea
As I hit the twenty-minute mark of my workout on the treadmill, I increase the incline and begin to push myself further as I feel the burn through my legs. The Tournament is one week away, and I’ve been doing everything I can to prepare for the unpreparable. I’m working on my cardio to build stamina. Yoga and meditation to improve my breath control. Lots of sparring with mum, dad, grandpa and even Marcel, and of course, lots of target practice. You never know what challenges you’ll face in The Tournament until you’re in it, so any preparation is really just guesswork and hoping for the best. Tension has been rising as it gets closer to D-Day. I always find Alec somewhere watching me with this conflicted expression on his face. I get the feeling he’s going through an existential crisis, but I don’t have time to baby him. I’m about to fight for my life, he should learn to handle his own shit for a change. That being said, I have actually been enjoying his company. Despite the highly u
Deciding today I need a break from training, I have the genius plan to take Alec to one of my favourite places near my house. I’m bored and I have no one else to play with, so he’ll have to do. I get dressed in a gorgeous aqua blue tropical print, backless, halter-neck dress with a thigh-high slit, slip on some white sandals, and grab a small purse that I tuck my phone and Crimson into. As if I’d go anywhere without her. I place my purse over my shoulder and walk down to Alec’s room and knock. I knock repeatedly but get no answer, so I open the door and peek my head inside. He’s there, he’s just out like a light. You'd think being in a house with assassins, one of whom was going to kill him, would make him a light sleeper, but nope. Goes to show how stressed he is I guess. I step into the room, walk over to him, and take a moment to admire him. The sheets are down to his hips exposing his toned olive skin and the tufts of hair covering his muscles. He hasn’t shaved since he started s
Eventually, Alec comes downstairs, his hair looking tussled while he’s dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a basic white T, but the shirt is hugging his frame in all the right ways. Stupid asshole still has my brain fuzzy with sex and now this little trek is going to just increase the ache this jerk has left in my pussy. I fucking hate him. “Where are we going?” He asks as he walks over to me. “A spot not far from here. It was meant to be a nice little day trip, but now I’m considering burying you out in the woods.” He smirks, “Someone sounds frustrated.” “How’s your dick feeling?” I smirk back. He shrugs, “It was worth it. You know I can fix that frustration for you, all you have to do is ask,” he says with a sly smile. “I have a knife in my purse, and I am very tempted to use it,” I threaten. He laughs, “You know I’m getting pretty good at learning when you’re bluffing,” he says smugly and that has me coming up short. Who the fuck said anything about bluffing? My fingers inch the
Elijah and I walk down the street arm and arm as I shove a very delicious mango mochi in my mouth. I glance to my right to see Elijah looking at me with shock on his face. “What?” I ask with a mouth full of mochi. “Did you just eat the last mochi?” I swallow what’s in my mouth and smile at him, “Yup.” “I can’t believe you,” he says, shaking his head. “Hey, you drank the last of my vegetable juice this morning,” I remind him. “Touché,” he concedes. We continue to walk for another block, just enjoying the nice evening air. The streets aren’t too busy, so it’s relatively quiet. The peaceful stillness gives me time to think and reflect and get lost in my own thoughts. Elijah’s business has been slow this month, as has mine, so we’ve both had more time to spend together just enjoying each other’s company, and we’ve both needed it. Especially since my last job had me hunting someone down all over France which was goddamn exhausting. After Peyton’s ‘accident’, it left Elijah as the so
~FLASHBACK A YEAR AGO~ “Anyone ever tell you what a wonderful couple you two make?” John gushes. “You would be the first, but thank you,” I say with a bright smile. “Honestly feels like we’ve been together forever,” Elijah coos as he kisses my temple again. I’ve lost track of how many times he’s done that now. Before John can throw more compliments at our fake relationship, my phone rings. I reach out and take my phone off the coffee table. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” I say as I get up and make my way to the balcony while Elijah watches on curiously. I close the sliding door behind me and answer the call. “It’s Victor,” I hear the voice greet. “I can’t take on another job at the moment, I’m still working on this one.” “I wish that’s why I was calling,” he says, his voice sounding ominous, yet filled with guilt. “Then why are you calling?” “A letter arrived for you today… it’s from The Tournament,” he says anxiously. I sigh and lean against the rail. Fuck my luck. I glan
As I pull up to Il Segreto in my Jaguar, grab my handcrafted sterling silver clutch purse and open it to once again confirm Crimson is carefully tucked away inside. I close my purse back up, pull down my visor, and examine my makeup. My ivory skin is accentuated by my smokey black eyes with gold glitter pressed into the corner of my eyes. My lips are painted black as midnight with glitter that sparkles brighter than the stars. My black hair, which has grown exceptionally long over the past year, is up in a high, fluffy bun with tendrils coming down framing my face and hiding the faint scar that travels down the left side of my hairline. I gingerly touch the scar with my freshly manicured mirror chrome painted nails and reminisce on just how far I’ve come in this past year. ~FLASHBACK ONE YEAR AGO~ “That’s it. We’re retiring,” I hear my mother whisper yell in Italian. I feel myself waking up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes, but even so, I take comfort in knowing my mother is here,
I jolt awake as I feel something touch my lips. Instinctively I flinch away, thinking it’s Hadleigh back for another round of torture. “It’s just water,” I hear Elijah’s gentle voice say. I force my good eye open, as my other is now swollen shut. Even in this dim light I am able to make out the guilt that is all over his handsome face. I glance at the water bottle and gladly let him help me sip from it. It hurts, but I can feel how dehydrated my body is, so I’m grateful for the water. I can feel the blood drying on my skin making my flesh itch, and I have so many wounds and injuries at this point that my entire body is just raw with pain. “Keeping me alive so she can torture me more?” I ask in a croaky voice. Each movement of my mouth makes the cuts and contusion to my face ache and sting painfully. “I never wanted this, Heart. I didn’t have a choice,” he says, as if pleading for me to forgive him. “There’s always… a choice. I told you that night… all you had to do… was ask for my
~ FLASHBACK A MONTH AGO~ “So since obviously, my answer is yes to being the awesome godmother of your baby boy, how’s about you give me the information I want?” I say getting back on track while I simultaneously monitor Alec and the dickhead following me. Mikhail chuckles, “A deal’s a deal. Get ready for this. Wasn’t easy to find but you came to the right place,” he boasts. I roll my eyes, “Spit it out already.” “So impatient. Anyway, I ran the background on this Alec Lowell, and you were right to be suspicious. I checked all the data of these sites and all the information you found was only input into the system a month ago, prior to that none of the information on Alec Lowell existed,” Mikhail informs me. I shake my head, “Explains the shadow and his apartment. I’m being set up.” “It looks that way, but I was able to run facial recognition software and though it seems like more information on your guy has been erased, they didn’t get all of it, and I’m better,” he praises himse
Everything was peaceful and painless, and I was dreaming about the hikes I used to take with my family. The fact I was dreaming means I’m still alive and if that wasn’t proof enough, then the fact my body is shocked into a state of consciousness as I feel excruciating pain shoot through my neck, would be a dead giveaway. I feel disoriented and yet every pain receptor in my body feels like it’s been amped up to a thousand, so I can’t stop the scream that escapes me. I feel something sharp in my neck and the warmth of my own blood gliding down my skin. I try to move but I instantly realise my arms and legs are bound. What hell have I woken up to now? “Got it!” I hear a man’s voice declare. He sounds American “Good, now destroy it so no one can use it to track her and find her here,” says a woman’s voice… a familiar woman’s voice at that. I hear the sounds of feet shuffling against concrete and a door that needs some oil, opening and closing. There’s an echo when the door shuts indic
Laying on the cot in the Red Room, I hold myself in the foetal position as agonising pain rips through my abdomen. I managed to stop throwing up and shitting my organs out long enough for them to bring me here and to add insult to injury, the nerve block in my feet has worn off, so right now, all I have is pain. My insides feel like they’re constricted and on fire, my hands are throbbing painfully as I clench them into fists to fight off the pain, and my feet feel like they’re on fire. I can feel the sweat soaking my hair and clothes and my breathing becoming more laboured by the minute. I bet Hexton was so proud of himself for putting me in here, thinking it would fuck with my head, but I barely even notice this stupid fucking Red Room because I’m distracted by pain. I’m probably going to die in this place. At this point it seems inevitable and yet I’m just not ready to give up. My parents survived hell just like this so they could come home to me, if I just give up, then they’ll be
An answer to my question is given when another man enters my room, this time pushing the most compact, futuristic electric chair I’ve ever seen. It’s really just a small seat on top of big tyres, there’s not much to it, and nowhere near as bulky or cumbersome as the kind you see the elderly use. It has a joystick control, black leather lining and white exterior. I glare at the contraption with clear disdain. I’m reduced to an electric wheelchair because they won’t just let me go. Can’t walk or do shit, but still expected to make an appearance. I’ll be a sitting duck. Before the doctor administers the nerve block, he changes the bandages on my hands for a thinner, skin-coloured bandage, then the women help me into a one-shoulder floor-length lilac glittering sequined gown with a sweetheart bust and a slit up to my hip on my left side. It’s stunning and hugs my body perfectly. My hair is styled in a large intricate updo that appears full and voluminous while also being sleek. My nails m
I feel myself start to wake up, but I can’t seem to open my eyes. The more alert my senses become the more aware I am of the pain and heaviness radiating through my body. I feel like I was thrown off a cliff and smashed against jagged rocks over and over and over again, but that’s just my body. My feet are another story. Tears prick my shut eyes as the excruciating sensation of raw nerve endings being exposed hits me and I want to scream. The only thing stopping me is how weak I feel. I force my eyes open and thankfully am met by a dim light at the far end of the room. I can hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping its infuriating rhythm, but one that reminds me I’m alive. I see several IV bags hung up, and as I attempt to glance down I notice the oxygen mask on my face. My body is wrapped up tight in shiny silver heat sheets and blankets like a little human burrito. Everything except my feet. My feet are suspended in harnesses, covered in some kind of cream. Even from here, I can s