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10

SCARLET

I check my phone for the fiftieth time. Nothing.

It’s been that way since my return from New Orleans. Gideon has been quiet, no orders to take someone out or collect his dry cleaning. When it comes to him, I usually like quiet. But for some reason, this time, it’s unsettling.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that it coincides with Maisie’s silence. I left another phone for her in her school locker, just like I told her I’d do if the one she had was compromised. But I haven’t heard from her and that can only mean one of two things— she hasn’t been going to school, or that phone was discovered too.

Either way, I don’t dare send the first message. It must be her with our code word: soulsistas25.

Deciding to call it a night after hours of riding just to feel the air on my face, I head to the place where I can be indoors and still breathe. A place no one can find me.

My secret apartment in Brooklyn.

It’s cute, a tiny slice of a once grand brownstone that still retains a lot of historical details—intricate crown molding, bay window, bronze fixtures.

The best thing about it, however, is that it’s one of my few remaining secrets. Even Gideon doesn’t know about it. I’m not sure what made me keep it from my boss. Maybe it was that I felt things shifting. A change in temperature between us.

Shortly after the attempt to take out Luca’s uncle, and Gunn and I went on the most thrilling motorcycle chase I’ve ever been a part of, where he followed me into the woods and shot my back tire, causing me to crash my beautiful Kawasaki Ninja, I purchased my Honda Blackbird from a private owner. Across the street, there was a For Rent sign.

I took it on a whim using the same fake license I used to buy the bike.

The only down side is that technically, it’s in Sinacore territory. Makes it a little harder to sleep when you have to keep one eye open. But the fact that they’d never suspect I’m here, and neither would Gideon, makes it worth the risk.

So does the antique claw foot tub calling my name.

As the tub fills with steaming hot water, I peel off the biker jumpsuit and let drop along with my bra and underwear to the floor. I’d light some candles to set the mood if I had any, but instead, I turn off the light in the bathroom, leaving the door open to allow the soft glow from the hallway to illuminate the space. That, and a glass of red wine will be just fine.

Little by little, I sink into the sudsy water, and sigh once I’m in to my breasts. Damn, it feels nice on my aching muscles. Even the bruises I’m still sporting from my encounters with Gunn seem to benefit from the heat.

I wonder what Mr. Dimples is doing right now. Probably out on his bike, riding through the streets, making sure they’re safe from the likes of me. And all the while I’m in the heart of Sinacore territory taking a relaxing bath.

A giggle escapes me. I bet he kept me a secret. There’s no way he would have told anyone what I did to him. What he did to me! God, I can still feel him hard and rigid between my legs.

My hand slips over my belly to my pussy. It’s not the first time I’ve played with myself while picturing Gunn tied to the bed. He’s so fucking sexy, it’s a testament to my willpower that I was able to stop from tearing him free so that he could do whatever he willed with me!

I shut my eyes and bring up all the images of him that I’ve stored away for personal use. His eyes, his lips, that scruffy chin.

It doesn’t take long to make myself come. That’s what I like about being a woman, the ability to please myself whenever, wherever I fucking want in under two minutes. No mess.

Just as the water and wine have done, the orgasm relaxes me further. I lean my head against the lip of the tub to rest for a moment, and let the world fade away for a while.

My phone dings and I roll my head toward the little table I left it on. I stare at it a bit, my mind fuzzy. I must have fallen asleep.

It dings again, a reminder of the first alert.

Begrudgingly, I stand, my skin turning into a goose bump factory the second cold air touches it. I grab a fluffy white towel and wrap it around myself before I step out onto the thick mat.

I grab my phone and find some spam message that just came in. But that’s not what has me frozen on the spot. It’s the alert from the sensors I set down the hall, the only security measure I could place on the outside of the apartment that wouldn’t raise suspicions.

Motion Detected 12:25.

Then, Front Door Open 12:27 .

That was twelve minutes ago.

Shit. How did I sleep through that?

Slowly, I bend down to my bra still puddled on the floor and from the little pocket between the cups, pull out the two-inch blade I keep there.

I step over my clothes and press myself to the wall. My heart is pounding in my ears and it takes a moment to calm it down so that I can hear.

There’s someone in my kitchen. The fridge door clearly opens and something is pulled out, a beer from the sound of a cap being taken off.

Cautiously, I make my way there, ready to strike the intruder.

But when I reach the doorway and peer inside, I’m so shocked all I can do is stare.

“How did you find me?” I ask.

“Maisie.” Gunn takes a sip of the beer he pilfered and sits in a chair too tiny for a man his size.

“She would never give me up.” I hate that it comes out small and unsure.

“Not willingly. But when given the choice between handing you to me or the alliance, she went with what she perceived to be the lesser threat.” He lets his gaze drop to the towel wrapped around my body and gives me the most wolfish grin I’ve seen on him. “Don’t blame her for not knowing any better.”

“You tricked her.” Of course he did. There’s no other explanation.

“Come over here.” He pats the round table in front of him.

I smirk. “What, you want to have a conversation before you try to kill me again?”

“That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Then why are you here?” I ask haughtily.

“I’ve got a raincheck to cash. Figured it would be best to do it before someone else does take you out. So. Come. Here.”

I glance at his large hand still on the table, a table I don’t ever eat at but by the way his gaze has darkened as he takes me in, he’s the one about to eat.

Every cell in my body comes to full attention, alert and ready. He catches the flush that spreads over my skin, and grins. “Are you warm?”

“A bit.” As if of their own accord, my feet begin to move forward. I slide between him and the table and push my ass onto it. “It was very risky of you to come.”

“You want me.” He leans in, his fingers dancing just below the hem of my towel, skimming my knees softly. “That’s my safety net.”

“You assume I want you.”

“Don’t you?” His eyes lock with mine and I’m suddenly not just warm, I’m parched too. His brings his face so close to me, I can feel the tip of his nose graze mine. He moves to my right, his breath fanning my cheek, and my ear. “Don’t you want me, Scarlet?”

My hands begin to tremble, and I grip the edge of the table to stop them. “Do you want me ?” I whisper.

He chuckles, the deep rumble sending a throbbing pulse through me. “You know the answer to that.”

“Yes,” I sigh when he takes my earlobe between his teeth.

“Yes, what?”

“I want you,” I admit. “But aren’t you afraid of what I’ll do once you’ve given me what I want? Your safety net might be nothing more than a spider’s web. And you’ve heard what spiders do to their mates when they’re done with them.”

Gunn licks my throat as he runs his palms up the inside of my thighs, beneath the towel, until he is millimeters from my sex. My heart is pounding in my chest and in my core. I’m wet with expectation of his touch there, however, he keeps his hand from moving farther. It’s his job to torture the enemy, and that’s exactly what he’s doing now.

He stands, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him now. Damn, he is one fine man. I’m so attracted to him, it makes my head spin. But it’s not just a visual attraction, but a biological one as well. We must be made for each other because when I inhale and take in his scent, my body shoots off signals demanding that I mate with him.

Like an animal.

How appropriate the song that I danced for him was that night at Darling Tease, except I want him to be the one that fucks me like an animal.

Gunn pushes himself between my legs, forcing me to spread them. I’m hyper aware of the way my pussy opens beneath the towel, and the closeness of his jean clad hips to my exposed clit.

I suck in a breath when he reaches for the spot where the towel is knotted over my breasts. In one easy twist, he undoes it, and the towel falls away.

As if he’s admiring a fine steak he’s about to consume, licking his lips, pupils dilating, he takes in every part of me—my breasts, hard nipples, tummy, and my cunt.

He places his large palm on my chest, dragging it downward, over my belly button. Then, he brings it to my pussy, caressing it with the back of his hand, letting his knuckles tease the tip of my clit.

I clutch the table harder. “Fuck, yes.”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says, copying what I said to him, but by the lust in his eyes, I can tell he means it. He brushes his fingers over my entrance and pushes two inside. Then he brings them back to his mouth and tastes me. “So fucking sweet.”

“Shit.” I bite my lower lip and that seems to be some catalyst that makes his control break.

He slides his hand up and around my neck to hold me in place as he crushes his mouth to mine. Just like the other night, the kiss instantly turns into something more, something so consuming it feels like he’s fucking me already. He’s not just tasting me, but branding himself on my tongue.

It’s maddening, the kiss, his hands on my breasts, the bulge in his plants slamming against me, grazing my clit roughly.

“Keep that up and I’m going to come on your jeans again,” I warn him.

“Though I wouldn’t mind, I’d rather you come on my dick this time.” He tears his shirt off and drops his pants, a huge grin painting across his lips when my eyes widen as I take in his size. “You’ll be able to handle me.”

As turned on as I am, I wouldn’t back out now anyway.

Grabbing him by the shoulders, I pull him back to me. I kiss him wildly, sliding my tongue across his, inhaling him.

This time, when he presses himself between my legs, there’s nothing to buffer the feel of his hard shaft sliding against my pussy. Every time he shifts, the head of it brushes over my clit, each contact deliciously electric.

I’m wet. So wet I’m afraid if he doesn’t start fucking me soon, it’ll drip down my legs.

He breaks away only to trail soft bites down my jaw and throat. I cry out when he takes a nipple between his teeth.

“Harder,” I beg, desperate for a little more of that delicious sting.

I’m delirious, lost in a lust filled fog when suddenly I’m dragged out of it by his fingers inching their way towards my back.

Usually, when I fuck, I leave my shirt on. Guys don’t care as long as they can get to your breasts. Gunn caught me at a vulnerable time. Swept me up in this sexual frenzy so fast I didn’t have a chance to think about it.

He pauses, his fingertips skirting the bandage I placed over the last two marks I made. “What’s this?”

When he tries to look, I tug away. It scares me.

I don’t like being vulnerable, and there’s only one way I can think of to feel in control again.

From the bunched-up towel, I tug out the two-inch knife. Sliding it between my fisted middle and forefingers, I press it against Gunn’s rock hard abs.

He freezes and glances down at the sharp tool.

Lifting his dark gaze to me, he arches a brow. “Is that your way of asking me to stop?”

“Stop?” I grin. Fuck no. I don’t want him to stop. “I want you to prove how much you want me. Call it a little blood oath. You push into me , it pushes into you.”

The tip of the knife digs a little into his skin as he breathes. It’s not pressed over anything vital, and it’s not long enough to do much damage. It’s designed to slice not stab, after all. However, it would certainly hurt.

Gunn breathes in and out, pushing against the sharp steel. As if he’s enjoying the sting, his dick twitches at my entrance and I bite back a moan.

“And what exactly are you sacrificing?” he asks.

I don’t answer him. I can’t. All I can do is stare into his eyes. But in my silence, I’m sure he can read my response.

I’ve only ever fucked strangers. One night stands that would mean nothing. Men I could easily take on if they turned on me. Men I was barely attracted to. Men that could take care of my needs without the threat of me losing any part of myself in the process. Safe men.

But Gunn…

He’s not safe. He’s not a stranger. And I am without a doubt, one hundred percent on fire for him. With him, I’m going in fully aware that I’ll lose control. A mere fight with him does it for me. He smiles with those dimples and I forget my own damn name. I can only imagine what fucking him will do to me.

So what am I sacrificing? Me.

I’m sacrificing everything to let him in. To trust him, my enemy, to put me in vulnerable positions and not kill me.

Stupid, I know. But I’ve never wanted anything more than to have him inside me. I just want to know he feels the same.

He lowers his gaze to the spot where the knife is pressed against him, then at the spot where his cock is pressed against me .

And he pushes in.

The blunt head of his cock slides into me as at least an inch of the blade slides into him. Blood streams in rivulets that roll over his perfectly chiseled abdomen and disappear from my sight.

Again, he pushes, wincing as the remaining inch of steel is forced to the hilt into his skin. At the same time, a low groan rumbles from his chest when he buries another inch of his thickness into my core.

I suck in a little breath, needing to adjust to his girth inside me, then outright gasp when he flicks that dimpled mischievous smile at me.

“I took your two inches, sweetheart. But you still have six more of mine to take.”

The knife clatters somewhere on the floor as in one powerful stroke, he shoves those glorious thick inches all the way in.

My back hits the table and I cry out something that sounds like a plea, though I’m not sure what I’m begging for. Mercy. Torture. Both. He begins to thrust and gives me more than that.

“Yes. Fuck yes!” All I can form are those words, but they mean so much more than that. They mean, I’ve never been filled like this . They mean, if you tried to kill me now I’d let you . And they mean, I’m falling apart .

“Fuck, Peaches, you’re tight. So fucking tight,” he groans, his eyes rolling shut.

He moves his hands from my waist, down my legs. Grabbing them behind the knees, he pushes them back into my chest. The position has him going deeper that he was before, the thick hilt of his cock stretching me more.

And when he leans forward to lick my neck, I lose whatever control I had.

Everything about this man drives me wild, from the sound of his growls, the rough way in which he handles me, and the fact that this is so completely wrong.

My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. I’m unable to draw in a single breath for what seems like an eternity, and when I finally can, it’s Gunn I inhale. I’m surrounded by him, completely invaded by his presence. He’ll all over me, and when he comes, holding me tightly against him, he’s inside me too.

I test the strength of his binding arms and they’re like steel hoops around me. It reminds me of just how strong he is compared to me and how helpless I am right now. Any other man I could have kept at bay. Fucked while remaining in control, never putting myself in a position that might get me killed.

That loss of control hits me like a ton of bricks and I’m suddenly afraid I’ll drown in the sea that is Gunn Sinclair.

With all my might, I shove him off me. He slams against the wall behind him, his expression full of shock. “Ow! You fucking hellcat!”

I scramble off the table, wrapping the towel around me. “I warned you about your safety net. Be happy I didn’t do worse.”

“Worse? Woman, I’m bleeding over here!” He points to the wound on his side.

Rolling my eyes, I go to the cabinet where I keep a first aid kit. “I’ll get you a bandage, you big baby.

“What are those?” he asks, walking toward me.

“Band-Aids,” I tell him.

“No. On your back.”

I spin so fast the white box with the red cross on it goes flying out of my hand. His quick reflexes kick in, and he catches it midair. However, by the time he looks up, I’m already digging through my closet for a shirt.

“Peaches.”

“What?” I tug the black turtleneck on and then slip into a pair of jeans.

“What are those?” he demands again. “On your back.”

“Notches.” I tear the kit from his hands and order him to sit on the bed.

“Notches?” He winces when I use saline to clean his wound.

“Don’t worry, Dimples. You’ll eventually get one. When I kill you.” I give him a sassy smile meant to lighten the mood.

He arches his brows as the meaning of my scars dawns on him. “Wouldn’t it be better to make them on a doorjamb or a bed post?”

I leave him and return with his discarded clothes. “You should go. And don’t bother bringing your boss here. I’ll be moving out.”

“Are you telling Gideon about this?”

“Fuck no.” I recoil from the very thought. “He’d hang me if he found out.”

“Ditto. I’m not going to bring Luca. If he knew what I did, I’ll hang alongside you.” He dresses, but instead of leaving like I asked, he goes to my fridge and helps himself to a bottle of water.

My lips pull tight as I watch him take his time drinking it. “You don’t want to kill me, or you would already have tried. You don’t want to turn me in. So what are you here for? Are you trying to get Sofia’s location out of me? Because I don’t know where she is. Gideon is hiding her, even from me.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he studies me. “You really don’t know where she is?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the P extra hard.

Leaning against the table, he takes another sip of water. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not here for Sofia. Not tonight, anyway. I’m here for whatever the fuck this is,” he says, pointing between us. “I hoped once I did something about it, I’d get you out of my fucking system.”

“Did it work?” I need to know if it did. Was he able to get me out of his system? Because I’m afraid it might not have worked for me.

Gunn shakes his head. “We can’t do it again.”

“Yeah.” It comes out a sad sigh.

“Good.”

“Did Maisie really give me up?” I ask, hoping he lied earlier.

From his pocket, he takes out a folded-up piece of paper with a sticky note attached to it and hands it to me.

“This won’t happen again,” he reiterates, though I’m not sure if he’s telling me or himself. “See ya, Peaches.”

“Have a nice life, Dimples.”

After he leaves, and after a long while of staring towards the door, wondering if he’ll come back, I look down at the note in my hand.

Please don’t hate me.

-M

“God, kid. I could never hate you,” I whisper.

Then, when I unfold the paper and see what she’s sent me, I know that whatever it is I actually feel for that girl is as far from hate as you can get. It’s the sketch of Rage she swears manifested me. Except she’s made an addition to it. There’s something new in Rage’s hand.

A scarlet gun.