CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

AMBER

 

RED. THAT’S ALL I could see, red, everywhere, long red ribbons swirling down from the ceiling. I sat up on Emmett’s bed, my eyes wide and confused, pushing the ribbons away like a curtain. The ceiling was covered with red heart-shaped balloons, the owners of the ribbons. I shuffled out of the bed in my underwear and a tank top, snippets of my drunken state last night coming back, but I didn’t care. Right now, I felt like a child in a secret world. I parted the ribbons as I moved to the corner of the room, where Emmett stood, his eyes tracking me, taking me in.

“I couldn’t ring you last night, my father never left my side,” he said, his voice making my heart rate pick up, but I moved closer, wanting to check every inch of him to make sure he was okay.

“Not even a text?” I questioned, pushing more ribbons away. I glanced up at the ceiling again, in awe of all the balloons. How had I not heard him, or felt him move me from my own bed, for that matter?

“No, I’m sorry.” Emmett had moved and stood in front of me. If I reached out my hand, I could touch his face. 

I looked back up to the ceiling while allowing the ribbons to run through my fingers. “Is this you saying sorry?” I asked, looking back at him.

“Yes.” He hadn’t smiled yet, his eyes flickering from mine to my lips.

My stomach tightened. “You know most guys bring girls flowers and chocolates,” I found myself saying, and was rewarded with a grin that had my heart galloping.

“I’m not most guys.”

I swallowed, “No Emmett, you’re not.” A fresh cut over his cheekbone had me reaching up to him. I touched it lightly and he winced. It was a new addition to the marks on his face.

“Is this the last time?” I asked, my fingers lingering on his face.

“I doubt it.” I smiled bitterly at the sad honesty of his words.

Looking into his eyes had the blood in my veins heating up. “Thank you,” I reached up on my tippy toes and kissed him gently on the cheek. “The balloons are perfect,” I told him before landing back on my feet.

“You’re perfect.” Two words, and they made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. His kiss was immediate. My hands automatically went around his neck as his tightened around my waist. He moved us back until the softness of the bed cushioned my back, and Emmett’s body hovered over mine. He paused kissing me, I opened my eyes to find him breathing deeply just looking at me. I wanted to ask why he had stopped, but it was in his eyes. He was looking at me, really looking at me. “You're mine,” he said, but with a nod of his head, as if waiting for my acknowledgment that this was the case.

My heart beat wildly in my chest. “I’m yours,” I told him. The satisfaction that my words caused had him releasing the need that he had held back. His kiss was hungry, and I fed into it, my own need for him making my body throb. His shirt had too many buttons as I frantically tried to unbutton them, the noise of buttons being torn and hitting the floor had me pausing momentarily, as Emmett removed his now-tattered shirt. He had torn it open, as impatient as I was. Luckily, I only wore a tank top and underwear that now landed on the floor, as I pushed down Emmett’s trousers, along with his boxers, and he kicked them off. Both of us now naked, my body was raging for his.

My eyes soaked up his large erection. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, forcing him closer. “Put it in…” I demanded as he held back, this shit wasn’t funny. “…now, Emmett.” I pleaded as he kissed my neck. A bite had me yelping in pleasure, and he smiled.

“You like that?” he asked, biting my shoulder. The pain mixed with the yearning was driving me mad. I reached down like an addict ready to put him in myself when Emmett’s hand circled my wrist. My eyes met his, mine full of irritation, his swam with lust and amusement.

“You really want me?” I wasn’t one to shy away. “So why are you holding back?” I tightened my legs again around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

“Tell me again,” his eyes now lingered on my lips.

“What?” my heart raced. Did he want me to say I loved him? Did I love him?

“That you're mine.” Why did that feel a little more personal, more possessive? Like it was my soul he was after, not just my heart. He now looked at me, searching my eyes. My heart raced and my stomach flipped.

“I’m yours.” The words had barely left my mouth when he filled me, and he didn’t hold back. His thrusts were fast and hard, and I called out at each one, clinging to him, pulling him closer. He watched me carefully as he continued to thrust, each one picking up speed. “Oh...I’m going to come,” I called out with a moan. His hand tightened around my neck.

“Not yet.” It was a demand. I could see he was nearly there, he was on the edge, but I wasn’t sure if I could hold on.

“I can’t,” I said, and his hand tightened around my throat as he threw his head back. I could see the ecstasy on his face and he moaned, and I let go, jumping over the cliff with him.

 

***

My head rested on Emmett’s chest as I played with the ribbons, pulling balloons down slowly and then letting them go.

“I want to take you out tonight.” I looked up at Emmett; he was looking down at me a soft smile on his face. My stomach tightened. He was gorgeous.

“I’d like that,” I smiled up at him, really smiled because it sounded perfect. Emmett reached up and slowly started to pull down a balloon.

“It won’t always be like this.” He said.

I hadn’t taken my eyes off Emmett and, as he spoke, he looked from me to the string that he twined so easily through his fingers. His very gifted fingers. “Us lying in bed, surrounded by balloons?” His smile at my words had my heart rate picking up, but it disappeared too quickly.

“No, Amber. This life. A few more days, and I hope to walk away.”

I touched his face, my hand automatically going to his bruises, like I was somehow trying to remind him and myself of the damage here. “How?”

“If I told you, I would have to kill you.”

Cold spread through my veins. Was he serious? “Then don’t tell me,” I swallowed, and a small grin grew on Emmett’s face.

“I won’t. I don’t want to have to kill you. But I just might lock you in a room forever and make regular visits to you.”  I laughed, and I wasn’t sure if it was relief that he wouldn’t actually kill me, or if it was his words that had me giddy.

“So, I would be your sex slave, Mr. Harrington?” I said his name as I leaned in, my lips hovering over his.

“Would you like that?” I didn’t answer, instead, I kissed him, and he kissed me back with a hunger that we both shouldn’t be feeling so soon, but we were.

***

The shower felt good as my body ached after the third time. I had never had sex that many times, even with Peter, and he was my only long-term boyfriend. Peter had been sweet, sensitive, a boy. Whereas Emmett was very much a man, one that my body wanted again just thinking about him. I was turning into a sex addict.

Large hands wrapped around my bare stomach, startling me, but I smiled, knowing the feel of Emmett’s hands already. “I thought you might have missed me,” the whispered words in my ear and the erection that prodded into my back had elected a shiver from me. I turned in his arms and my heart did a little lift. The water streamed across his head and down his face, making him more breath-taking, if that was even possible, and I found myself questioning him wanting me. I wasn’t the insecure type, but Emmett wasn’t the type of man that I typically got attention from.

“I did,” I told him as I lifted up on my tippy toes and kissed his neck. His erection brushed my stomach, pushing me over the edge, and we made love for the fourth time under the hot spray of water.

It wasn’t long after the shower that Emmett had to leave, his phone ringing several times. I honestly didn’t want him to go, but I wasn’t going to start getting whiny, and I had the meal tonight to look forward to, and all the sex afterward. I smiled as I dried myself. I needed to get my head out of the gutter; Emmett was consuming me.

 

 

EMMETT

 

“It’s ready,” I pressed the elevator button for the basement.

“Okay,” Kirk sounded unsure, and I didn’t like that.

“Kirk, I need to know you are ready. There is no room for errors.” I said into the phone.

“I know, Emmett. It’s not that. I’m more than ready to kill that son of a bitch.” The anger in his voice made me relax as I stepped out onto the concrete floor and clicked the beeper of my Bentley, the lights flashing twice. It sat on its own in the seven spaces reserved for me.

I slid into the car and pressed the button, causing the engine to come to life. “Good.”

“It’s just that’s a lot of people in one room, and a lot could go wrong.” He was right, of course, but I couldn’t afford to think like that.

“We just need to make sure we see to it that nothing goes wrong.” I pushed the car into gear but didn’t lift my foot off the clutch. “I need to know I can count on you.”

“Jesus Emmett, one hundred percent.” I lifted my foot off the clutch and pushed down on the accelerator. Light poured into the garage as the doors lifted, letting me out onto the road.

“Good. See you tomorrow at the docks,” I said closing the phone. 

I had only one more piece of the puzzle to put into place, and I hoped tomorrow night I would be a free man. Green eyes and a sexy smile made me want this more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. I knew, after all these years, that I needed to end this. The list of men I planned to kill had dwindled down to one. The one man that would be the hardest to remove, and right now, I pulled up to his front gates.

“Mr. Harrington.” I was greeted by a security woman, who nodded before lifting the barrier. I drove up the drive that I had driven up a million times, only this time it felt different.

I rang the doorbell and Lidia, who was seventy, answered the door with a huge smile. “Emmett,” she held out her short and pudgy arms and I accepted her embrace.

“Lidia, you grow more gorgeous each time I see you.”

She blushed while she smiled wider. “You always charm me.” Her English wasn’t perfect, but this little Russian woman had always been my light in a very dark place.

“Son. To what do I owe this pleasure of being graced with your presence?” Lidia stiffened briefly, but I got her attention and smiled at her, my reassurance that all would be fine. She had seen one too many fights between me and my father. She took my smile with a curt nod before leaving us alone.

“I need your help,” I told him, and watched his eyes light up with glee.

“My study,” he told me. “Cigar?” My father offered, once we were seated.

“No, thanks.” I waited as he lit his up and took a deep inhale before letting it go. I felt nervous watching him. I felt young, like a frightened child. I pushed the fear down. I was a man now; I had nothing to fear.

“So talk,” My father got my attention as he blew out more smoke.

“I keep a list of all the men I want to kill, and you are the last one.” I wasn’t sure what I expected, him to look surprised…shocked…anything but the laughter that filled the room. It was mocking and cruel, and at that moment I fought with myself not to take his life.

When his laughter settled, he grew serious. “Who else made this list?” This was his ego talking; I felt disappointed.

“It doesn’t matter, they are all dead.”

My father looked at me before stubbing out his cigar, the ashtray sliding at each stab. “Fine, here I am,” my father opened his arms, his face a snarl. Could it possibly be that easy to end this? The gun that sat in my jacket pocket felt heavy, and I thought about reaching in and getting it.

“No.”

My father dropped his hands but not the snarl. “What is it, son? You wanted a challenge, maybe an audience?” 

“You almost sound hurt, Father,” I don’t know why I was taunting him, but his anger almost seemed like he cared. My words had him schooling his features as an empty smile grew on his face.

“You said you needed my help,” he sat back in his chair, as if I hadn’t told him he was on my kill list, and as if he hadn’t sat there waiting for the final blow. Now we were father and son once more.

“Yes, I do, and that’s why I won’t kill you, if you kill Kirill for me.”

My father normally would laugh at such a demand, but all the laughter seemed to have left him. “Why?” He sat up and clipped another cigar. I wanted to tell him this wouldn’t take long, and not to bother lighting it up until after I left.

“He set me up. Had me kill Viktor, his brother’s son.” My father lit the cigar and shrugged. “His brother is Mikad Kirill, and he’s coming here for blood.” I had never seen my father pale the way he was in front of me now. “If I kill him, it would cause a war…” my father waved my reasoning away “…but if a father steps in to protect his son, there is always some way to resolve it.”

Silence greeted me as my father pondered. “Do you know where he is now?”

“Yes, with his brother…here.”

My father looked at me; I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Why would he be here? He sent you to do the deal for him.”

I nodded “I know. I had someone watching for Mikad’s arrival, and was surprised to find his brother tagging along. I think he set me up, got me to kill Viktor, and now he has a meeting place where I will be, and where he will present me to his brother as retribution.”

“Okay let’s run with that theory. But you only killed Viktor because you were in Russia. What took you to Russia?” 

“One of the men on my list was there and in Mikad’s possession,” I answered.

“So you think it was by chance?” My father asked, his cigar had burned down halfway, now he flicked it and took a deep inhale.

“I’m not sure. There is only one other explanation.” I paused, not sure how much I should share. My father gave me a look of impatience. “Unless someone saw my list and told Kirill.”

My father looked irritated, now. “But why? Why go to so much trouble?”

I glared at him. “Because you reneged on a deal with them, Father. Did you think they would let it lie?”

He shrugged while studying the tip of his cigar. “If you're right about all this, then someone has betrayed you. But who?” My father looked up now, and I could see it there in his eyes, worry.

“I don’t know, but I will find out.”

“So what is the plan?” My father stubbed out his cigar, and I told him what I planned to do.