Chapter 2

Danielle

South Sudan—3 Years Ago

I’ve been shot at before—it comes with the territory.

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

I used to think getting shot at was something that nobody would ever get used to. And then I met Manticore.

We’ve been shot at a couple times during our time here, and each time, he takes it in stride. The man handles getting shot at about the same way I handle drinking my coffee in the morning.

It’s frighteningly intimidating.

But it’s also a tremendous relief to know that I have someone like him watching my back.

Well, him and Janus.

While this type of thing seems more part and parcel for Manticore, the same can’t be said for the Jackal.

Even before I hired him, I could tell that bodyguard work wasn’t his sort of gig.

He’s capable and just as eerily knowledgeable as his companion; it’s just apparent he’s not as comfortable in the role as Manticore is.

But I couldn’t ask for a better duo to watch my back than those two—though Janus seems to enjoy watching my ass more rather than my back.

Not that I’m really complaining.

Even before I heard his rough yet posh British accent, I was already interested.

I’ve always had a thing for men with dark hair and blue eyes—it’s like my kryptonite—but Janus is in a league of his own in that department.

Even in the most intense of situations, his eyes sparkle with this trickster-like mischievousness that draws you in.

“We need to get your bags packed so that we’re ready to go in the morning,” Janus says as he opens the door to our room.

It didn’t start out that way, but after we started fucking last week, it just made sense to share a room.

“We can’t leave now.”

“Oh, yes, we can. This whole place is about to go tits up, and we’re not sticking around for it.”

Rationally speaking, I know he’s right. Sticking around here is dangerous, but I’ve come too far to turn back now.

“Janus, please. If we leave now, then everything we’ve done will have been for nothing.”

“If we don’t leave, then there’s a damn good chance that you get hurt. Or worse.”

I’m taken aback by the tender concern in his voice, but it stirs something inside me that I didn’t realize was there before now. We’ve grown close over these last couple weeks, but it feels as though we’ve grown even closer than I noticed.

He peels off his Kevlar vest and tosses it on a nearby chair before closing the gap between us.

I feel his rough hands on the sides of my face, and when I look up into his eyes, I don’t see the same playful mischievousness that I normally do. I see affection—genuine affection—and worry.

“Why don’t we just leave in the morning? We’ll go to my place in Berlin. You can get the start of your story done, and we’ll come back once things start to quiet down.”

Admittedly, it does sound like a lovely idea, but it’s not one that I can commit to.

“These people don’t have that kind of time. Someone needs to be here to get their stories and to share them with the world.”

“Dani, it’s not your job to save the world.”

“I like to think of it as fringe benefits.”

Janus rolls his eyes, but he laughs all the same.

“Stay with me, Janus.”

“Come with me, Dani.”

I can tell from the look in his eyes that I won’t be able to convince him to stay. His concern for my well-being has gone from professional to personal—which is a sentiment I share.

But I can’t turn my back on these people.

Even for Janus—for us.

And if this is going to be our last tonight together, then I’m going to make it fucking count.

I grab his face with my own hands and pull him in for a heated kiss. Our lips crash together like a torrential wave.

He lifts me up off the floor and into his muscled chest.

Janus has a runner’s frame but is every bit as sculpted as a Greek god.

My legs wrap around his waist, and his hands move to my ass—which might be his favorite part of my body.

He moves us over the bed and sets me down on my back.

We waste no time getting rid of our clothes.

This isn’t the movies, where we take our time stripping each other down.

Fuck that. We want each other now.

Once my pants come off, he grabs me by my calves and pulls me to the ledge of the bed. He drops down to his knees and sets my legs over his shoulders.

I prop myself up onto my elbows to watch him work.

His tongue slides out and licks between my pussy lips to the underside of my clit. Janus’ lips wrap around it and gives it a mix between a kiss and a suck. It sends a quick jolt of electricity up my spine and forces a moan from my lips.

I reach down with one hand and slide my fingers through his short black hair.

The stubble of his cheeks tickles against my thighs and brings out a soft chuckle from my lips—right up until his tongue slides back down between my folds and into my wet pussy, that is.

Janus’ tongue swirls and twists as it slips deeper into me.

In no time at all, I’m throwing myself back against the bed and gripping my scalp like some anchor to keep me from drowning in the overwhelming sensations that he’s sending through my body.

“Fuck! I feel like I could let you do this forever,” I whimper.

I can feel his lips turn into a smile against my flesh. His tongue thrusts and licks as his fingers massage my clit to the point that I give in and submit.

I feel it in my stomach first, and my breath hitches for the briefest of moments before I clasp my hands over my mouth to muffle the screams.

I shudder and tremble against him, my body moving of its own accord.

My eyes close so tightly that when I finally open them, I’m seeing spots everywhere.

I reach down and pull his head up from between my legs. Partly because I need to recover, but also because I want to return the favor.

Our lips meet hard, and I can feel myself dripping from his lips—not that I give a fuck.

I slip a hand down around the base of his cock and moan into our kiss as I feel him throb in my hand.

When he stands, I take the opportunity to slide my lips over the velvety head of his thick cock. I take his length down the back of my throat until my nose is pressed against his body. My tongue swirls around the underside of his cock while I hold him in the back of my throat.

This time, it’s his turn to moan.

I let him free from my mouth and slide my tongue around his head as my hand strokes along the length of his shaft.

I fully intend on making him come against the back of my throat, but Janus pulls himself from my grip and grabs me by the waist.

I barely have time to process that he’s turned me over onto my stomach when I feel him lift my ass up off the bed, his cock thrusting hard into me.

“Oooh!” I exclaim in surprise.

There’s a soft pull against my head as Janus wraps my hair around his fist.

In the reflection of the window, I can see him smirking as he looks down at me. It makes me smirk in kind.

I rock myself back against him with each hard thrust in perfect harmony. We work like a two-person symphony.

We were hot and sweaty before thanks to the heat, but now, our bodies are positively glistening from our workout.

We move from position to position until I’m sitting on his lap on the edge of the bed.

Janus has one hand gripping my shoulder—pulling me down into him with each thrust—and the other holding my waist.

My face is buried into his neck—biting at his rough skin—as I feel myself approaching another crescendo.

I’m thankful that he has such a firm grip on my body as I begin to quiver and shudder against him once more. He growls when I bite down against his neck, but it only makes him thrust harder as I explode around him.

My hips bear down into him, wanting to feel more of him inside me, and I feel his breathing catch in his chest.

He’s close, and it drives me to grind into him harder and faster.

I push him back against the bed and press down firmly against his chest. His hands move to my hips in response and dig into my skin as he groans. I can tell he’s trying to hold himself back, but I’m far too persistent.

I want to feel him explode inside me, and I get it. His entire body clenches before relaxing in a big explosion of shivers and moans.

He mutters a few words—in Russian, I think—as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

I give him a moment to recover and lie down on the bed beside him.

“You look particularly satisfied with yourself,” he says with a breathy laugh.

“You’re one to talk.”

Our session continues well past sundown until our bodies are too tired and sore to continue.

As far as last nights go, this was one for the history books.

And when I wake in the morning—before the sun has even thought to rise over the horizon—I feel a twinge of guilt.

I hate to leave him here without saying goodbye. I know that he’s going to worry. But sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.

I give him one last, lingering look before slowly closing the door and slipping out into the hallway.