Unfinished Heroes: Sebring Part 12

"Liv-"

I raised a brow as I interrupted her. "I can't count on you to do that?"

Her mouth got tight before she forced out, "It's done. I'll go with Gill personally."

I made no reply.

I walked across the hall, trying to ignore Tommy leaning a broad shoulder against my doorjamb.

"Liv," he said quietly as I moved his way.

I made no response.

He shifted as I got close so I could enter my office.

He entered it with me and closed the door behind him.

"Liv," he repeated.

Stopping behind my desk, I did not sit. I turned and looked at him.

"Now is not a good time."

Something flashed across his face I'd seen a lot over the years. Too much. He should have learned to hide it. If not for him, for me. I'd learned how to do it for him.

Now, I wondered if he didn't do that just so he could manipulate me.

That something was pain.

"She's pregnant."

At his words, my throat closed.

"Georgia has recovery plans. They might work this time. That woman your dad gave me to coming up pregnant..." It seemed he was going to say something else but shut it down in order to say, "I need to take care of my family. I needed to make that statement of loyalty. I-" he gave his explanation, much of which again I already knew.

But now he was in with Georgia and knew of her "recovery plans?"

It was worse than I thought.

And...

His family?

"Please be quiet," I requested.

The pain in his eyes deepened.

"We need to talk," he said.

"I disagree," I replied.

"It's always only been you," he whispered.

"Funny," I returned instantly. "When I was getting thoroughly and satisfyingly f.u.c.ked against a wall last night, it wasn't even a little bit about you."

He flinched.

I didn't feel that flinch.

I was over this.

All of it.

All of Tommy, our tragic history, or nonexistent future.

All of everything.

I couldn't let it hurt me anymore.

I had to move on.

"I'm sure you have work to do," I noted leadingly.

"Liv-"

I knew my face shut down to the extent it shut him out because I made it so.

"You need to go and do it, Tommy," I ordered.

His mouth went hard.

We stared at each other.

I tried to recall his face those days in Baja when we were happy. When we thought we'd made it. When we were sure we were free.

I couldn't pull up that first vision.

His wife, my cousin, was pregnant with his baby.

Yes, time to move on.

I watched as Tommy nodded and walked out the door.

I turned and bent to my computer, putting the files I needed on a flash drive.

While I was doing this, my cell sounded.

I looked at it and saw a text that simply had a number on it.

Sebring.

Hotel Teatro.

The room number.

I stared at the phone.

I would never have anything minimally real and somewhat normal with anyone. Not Nick Sebring. Not anyone.

What I could have with anyone I wanted, absolutely anyone, was a fantastic f.u.c.k.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed up my phone.

I typed in 6:00.

I hit send.

Then I shut down, locked up and got the h.e.l.l out of the filthy, dingy, obscene house that Clive Shade built.

Chapter Six.

Tussle Nick In the hotel room, Nick heard the knock at the door.

He moved to it, looked out the peephole and felt the corners of his mouth hitch up when he saw her.

f.u.c.k, those big green eyes, perfectly arched dark brows, the olive tint to her skin, the expert way she shaded under her cheekbones...

She was a coldhearted criminal but she was one that was very easy to look at.

And even easier to f.u.c.k.

He opened the door.

He was going to say something but he didn't get the chance when her hand darted out and she caught him under his jaw, using it to push him in and around until his back hit wall.

She stared up at him, her hand wrapped around his jaw, her expression holding an emptiness that was so extreme it was almost like a void he could fall into and get lost forever.

He heard the door swish closed and latch.

Then she was up on her toes, her head moving toward his, those green eyes dropping to his mouth.

She didn't get her lips to his before his tongue was out, as was hers, both of them colliding and tangling before her mouth slammed to his just as her body pushed in, pressing hard, forcing him tighter to the wall.

He shoved out. Gripping her wrist at his jaw, he yanked it down, twisting and slamming her against the wall, slanting his head to deepen an already deep kiss. Their tongues again clashing before he actually took her mouth.

But he took her mouth.

And like she'd done to his, he consumed it.

His fingers still around her wrist, he yanked it around his back, using his body to shove her tight to the wall, pressing his hardening c.o.c.k against her stomach.

She arched, and moving quickly, whipped him around so his back was to the wall and she took over the kiss. Tearing her wrist from his hold, she curled her fingers around his throat just as she cupped his hardening crotch with her other hand.

f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, this woman was hot.

But he was done playing.

And he was done kissing.

Her mouth, that was.

He pushed her away. She struggled to regain control.

She lost this struggle when he caught her hand and dragged her down the short hall into the room.

She lost her footing when he gave her hand a strong tug and she fell into him with a soft gasp.

He let her hand go, caught her hips and threw her four feet onto the bed.

That got him another soft gasp which took his c.o.c.k from hardening to rock-solid and throbbing.

He bent over her, holding her now intense green gaze, spanning her hips with his hands. Shoving backwards, he found the hook of her skirt, released it and pulled down the zipper.

He moved his fingers to curl them into the sides of her skirt's waistband. With a vicious tug that took her hips and panties with it, he yanked off the skirt.

Chest to the bed, eyes to her c.u.n.t, the black curls neatly groomed with a precision that meant her wax technician was a master with possible OCD issues, they were also glistening with wet.

Having the tussle at the door, seeing the utter perfection of her p.u.s.s.y, smelling her, watching her legs part in invitation, her knees shifting up, Nick couldn't have gone gentle if he'd wanted to.

Luckily he didn't want to.

He bent his neck and devoured her.

f.u.c.k, she tasted just as perfect as she looked.

As he fed, he felt her excitement ramp. Tasted it. Ate it. Gave her more. Consumed the result. Drove her to the edge.

And when he had her there, he stopped and moved over her.

Not surprisingly, she used both the pump she already had planted into the bed and the calf she had wrapped around him to flip him and then she was straddling him, pushing up, her hands already to his fly.