Griffin
Something comes over Bebe. I can see it on her face. While I may not have known her long, I’ve come to read her very well. She has deep secrets, and I think she’s struggling to keep them contained. I’ve honestly been waiting all night for her to tell me about her time in prison. I figured the four beers she had would help loosen her tongue, but she’s kept it all close to the vest.
And now… her expression morphs from what seemed like a bit of sad nostalgia to something a little predatory and challenging.
She places her cup on the counter, then takes a step toward me that puts us toe to toe. I have no clue what’s coming, but I have an inkling I should ignore my own coffee, which has finished brewing.
Bebe’s head tips back, and she looks so magical right now. All waif-like and innocent, those crystal blue eyes blinking with her well-guarded secrets stashed behind the veil. Her hands come to my chest, and my muscles leap at her touch. I wish I were immune to her, but I’m not. I very much want her to keep doing whatever it is she’s wanting to.
“I think I’d like you to kiss me again,” she whispers, her eyes locked straight on to mine. Her voice is strong and sure. While she may not be willing to reveal her secrets, she’s clearly offering something else.
Her lips are soft and inviting. The short kiss we had in the bar was all too fucking good. I wasn’t brought to Cranberry to kiss this woman or play football with her son, but fuck if I can withstand the invitation she presents right now.
My hand goes to the back of her neck and she actually sags slightly, silently submitting to me. In this moment, she’s placed her trust in me. She has faith I will give her what she needs, and I won’t hurt her in the process.
She stares unblinkingly, her mouth slightly parted to give me the access I need.
If Anatoly were standing here right now, he’d remark how easy it would be to just tighten my hand around her neck. I could easily strangle her one-handed because she’s so fairy-like, but two would get the job done quicker. She’d never be able to withstand my size and strength. I could put her down quickly and quietly, giving Anatoly whatever peace he thinks only her death can bring.
From there, it would be easy enough to get her in the trunk of the rental in the black of the night. Drive eleven miles west to the Ohio River, attach a few cement blocks to her body, and toss her over a bridge.
It would be the best move. Giving Anatoly what he wants keeps me safe. If I fail to ultimately deliver her death to him, it will assuredly mean my death. He has no room for error, mistakes, or disloyalty. I could effectively end it all right now and stay on my boss’s good side, which means I continue to lead a healthy life.
Except that doesn’t seem to matter that much to me in this moment, with Bebe all soft and pliant before me.
I dip my head as I squeeze the nape of her neck, bringing my mouth to hers. Her breath flutters over my tongue, and she gives a tiny, almost imperceptible moan that almost drives me to my knees. Bebe is so hungry for intimate contact, and I can feel her practically vibrating.
Her fingers tighten into my shirt, and she tries to tug me closer. I place my free hand on her lower back, pulling her in tight. She gasps, feeling my erection, which started forming the minute she asked me to kiss her.
When I slide my tongue into her mouth, her response is a groan so guttural she sounds like she’s in pain. But it’s not really something that hurts. It might just be that the pleasure causes such overwhelming sensations it could be considered painful.
Regardless, her response is like a punch to the gut, and my kiss turns more invasive. Bebe doesn’t shrink away, but rather it feels like she’s trying to meld with me as her tongue duels alongside mine. Her arms move around my neck, her tiny body plastering against mine. She feels way too fucking good.
Tearing her lips free of mine, Bebe glances up with a pleading expression. “I need…”
She averts her eyes, and I move my hand from the back of her neck to her chin. I force her to give me her attention. “What do you need?”
I don’t get a response at first, but then a long-suffering sigh comes out. “I need to be touched. It’s been so long, Griff.”
She has no idea I know how long it’s been—assuming she’s not been with anyone since she got out of prison six months ago. And while I don’t owe her a damn thing, I feel like my only goal in life is to give her exactly what she needs.
“Hold tight,” I rumble just before I kiss her again. I briefly feel her mouth move into a smile against mine, then I have her tongue again.
I waste no time. Gliding my fingers down the side of her neck, I ever so lightly continue over her chest and along the side of her breast. She presses into me, but I let my hand drift lower, over her stomach and to the button of her jeans. It pops open easily, and her breath catches as I lower the zipper.
Pausing, I pull my lips away and stare down. She has her eyes squeezed shut, a pained expression on her face.
“Are you sure?” I ask. Her eyes flutter until she’s staring at me with so much earnest anticipation, I feel absolutely unworthy of her.
She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. She’s not intentionally trying to be sexy, but fuck if my cock doesn’t start thumping in response.
Her hands press into my shoulders, and she goes to her tiptoes in an attempt to reengage our stellar fucking kiss. My fingers inch into the waistband of her panties, over her smooth stomach, and down into the dark recesses below. Bebe jerks as my fingers brush through her soft curls, right into her wetness.
She growls, the sound so deep and needy I can only respond by pressing a single finger deep into her. Bebe jerks, cries out, and pulls her mouth away from mine only to bury her face into my chest. She writhes against me. For a moment, I do nothing but let her ride my finger, fascinated by the need driving her body to react. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s fucking beautiful.
I withdraw my finger and circle her clit. Bebe whimpers into my chest. With my other hand, I grip the hair at the back of her head and pull her back so I can see that gorgeous face.
“Look at me,” I order. Her eyes pop open, hazy at first, but then they focus. “Let me have those eyes while I make you come, yeah?”
She nods mutely. I continue sliding my finger against her, circling, pressing, massaging. I hold her by the hair, forcing her to look me in the eyes. Within mere moments, I make her come hard. Bebe cries out my name, finally succumbing to the pleasure by squeezing her eyes shut and groaning out a brutal release. Her hips jerk, swivel, trying to draw out the pleasure, and I let her use my fingers a little longer because I want her to feel good.
Bebe gasps hard and when she finally gives me her regard once again, I can see realization start to set in that I just gave her an orgasm. She looks embarrassed… hopelessly lost.
Then her hands fly to my belt buckle, and she starts to work at it. Her gaze drops when she mumbles, “Let me give you—”
I clamp my hand down on hers. “Stop.”
Her gaze jerks up, and she frowns in confusion. “But I want…”
“I know you do,” I assure her gently, dipping my head down to press my lips briefly against hers. “But I somehow feel like this was important to you, and you don’t owe me a damn thing.”
“But I want—” she starts.
“I know,” I murmur. “I know you do, but we have time to get there. Doesn’t have to be tonight. How about we just cherish this moment, okay?”
I can see on her face that she doesn’t understand. She’s not sure if this is a rejection.
I do the best I can to reassure her. “Bebe… you are fantastic. And I can’t wait to see you again. Tomorrow night if you’ll let me, okay?”
Her lower lip trembles slightly, and she averts her eyes. Her voice quavers slightly. “That was amazing… what you just made me feel.”
“I’ll give it to you again, anytime you want,” I say.
That gives her the courage to meet my eyes once again. The corners of her mouth tip up, and I get a sheepish half-smile. “Like I said… it’s been a while.”
“Yeah… you came pretty fast. It was spectacular.”
Her cheeks turn rosy from the erotic compliment, and I have to wonder why I stopped her from opening my fly. Despite my restraint and caution, I’ve never wanted to fuck someone more in my entire life.
And yet… it’s complicated.
Because I should be killing her for Anatoly right now.
♦
I stand out on the street, watching the cab pull away with Bebe tucked safely inside. We suffered through a bit of awkwardness after Bebe came back down to earth, and I let my hard-on naturally subside. After I made us new cups of coffee, we sat at the kitchen table and talked about Aaron.
Oddly, after I’d used my fingers to make her orgasm, the safest thing to talk about seemed to be her son. Neither of us has to acknowledge we’d just taken a big step in intimacy with one another, and we weren’t exactly sure what to do. I was sent here to eliminate Bebe. She’s holding dark secrets from me.
Let’s face it… we can’t be any good for each other, right?
When the cab’s taillights recede, I turn slowly for my building and trudge up the stairs rather than take the elevator. Once inside my apartment, I clean up the kitchen before heading to my bedroom. I feel a heaviness inside as I remove my clothes and slide under the covers.
My phone rings. Without even looking at the screen, deep in my gut, I know it’s Anatoly. We haven’t spoken in a few days, and he’s someone who likes to stay up on everything.
“Hello,” I answer as I connect the call.
“How about giving me a fucking update every once in a while, Griff?” he growls into the phone.
“Nothing to update,” I say flatly. “She’s been working and going home.”
“When are you going to do it?” he asks.
“I’ve got a plan—”
“When?” he barks.
“This weekend,” I say.
He goes silent. He’s obviously trying to figure out something else to bitch about because Anatoly loves to be in control. He’s the boss, and he leads by instilling fear and insecurity.
“Don’t fuck this up,” he finally says. “Because you will not like how I’ll react if you do.”
“I’ve got it under control,” I assure him. “I’ve got a plan.”
“Good,” he replies. “That’s really good. Call me when it’s done. Better yet… send me photos. I want to see your handiwork.”
I roll my eyes, something I take great pleasure in. “You got it.”
Anatoly disconnects, and I toss my phone on the nightstand. Lacing my fingers behind my head, I stare into the darkness and try to imagine what a normal life would look like.
Could someone like Bebe ever be a part of it?
Most likely not, as I’m not a normal dude.
Regardless, I have some hard decisions to make, and they need to be made soon. I’m out of time with Anatoly, and I have a job to do.