Risqué by Elena M. Reyes

28

“Again, Aliana. Aim for the middle.”

“It’s harder than it looks,” she grumbles two days later while staring at the target set up near the back of our property. What’s mine is hers. Forty-eight hours where I kept her my prisoner, my personal toy—where I pulled orgasm after orgasm from her lithe body, and then licked every drop. Her pussy is the sweetest fruit, and I can’t help but want more. All of her. “Quit laughing!”

“Breathe.”

“You breathe.” Her attitude is quite adorable, but she’s too tense—afraid and avoiding the giant elephant in the room as if it were the plague reborn. I haven’t asked about the theft after that first night; I’ve let her stew in her thoughts while silently letting her know I’m here when she’s ready.

The tick of the clock is her enemy, though. Tomorrow we leave, and I’m adamant about two things with a bonus stipulation: I’m going to destroy her father, and she has a month to settle her affairs stateside while not complaining about the added security.

This isn’t up for negotiation.

We ran through that road already: where I gave in, and it got her here.

So much could’ve gone wrong had Giannis not spoken to me. Moreover, had I not sent in Giannis’s boyfriend and Kray, they would’ve been caught and dumped inside of a Brazilian jail cell where so much could’ve gone wrong before I’d been notified.

That piece of shit she calls Dad, wouldn’t have done anything to help her. Of that, I am one hundred percent sure.

For his part, though, Mr. Martin kept his expression neutral when his boyfriend helped them get out unseen—or worse, arrested. Aliana didn’t recognize him or Kray standing guard not too far from them while paid rioters distracted the military guards that night.

“Again.”

“Why is it so easy on TV?” She squints her right eye, trying to focus. “What aren’t you teaching me?”

I take a step forward, and she freezes.

Silly girl doesn’t understand that I’m not mad at her. Never her.

My ire is directed at her father and his pig-shit schemes involving Aliana.

“Relax.” Moving in behind her, I raise her arms a little higher and then anchor a hand at her hip, showing her how to keep a better center of gravity. Because while shooting is an art form, making the gun an extension of you is important. The more you tense up, the harder your reaction will be to the recoil.

There’s a difference between locking your arms and being afraid.

“Easy for you to say,” she complains, but lets me manipulate her into position. We stay like that for a few seconds, letting her get used to the weight and feel of the custom Glock in her hands. “Can you count me down?”

“Aye.”

“Start at five.”

“Five.” She exhales roughly. “Four.” She stretches her neck from side to side. “Three. Two.” Aliana locks her arms and nods. “One.”

Her finger on the trigger pulls, unloading the first and then second shot, each one missing the center target, but she does hit the paper. The next one moves into the man’s torso, just barely hits his left side, but that shot is better than anything she’s done today.

“Good. Now pay attention to that last shot, do you see how close you are to the chest area?

“Yeah.”

“So what do you need to do to fix that?”

“Adjust my aim?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No.” Her voice is firm, more secure, and I hide my smile behind a kiss to the back of her head. “I need to adjust and refocus.”

“Correct.” I drop my hold on her and take a few steps back. “You got this.”

“I got this.” Aliana tilts her head a bit to the side and shifts, a minute movement, before retaking the position I taught her. This time, I admire her posture and countdown to her next shot. It takes twenty-seven seconds for the finger on the trigger to jerk, firing off a shot that hits the target right at the center of his chest. “Oh my God!”

“Good girl.” Her head snaps in my direction. The grin on her face is wide and holds so much pride. “That was an amazing shot, love.”

“I did it.” So much awe in her voice.

“You did.”

“Again?” My answer to her question is a nod, and she turns, retaking her position, but this time for fun. She won her reward, and I waited patiently for her to finish—emptying the clip—before taking the gun and placing it on the ground.

I have her in my arms before my Venus can run, her legs around my waist and my mouth on hers before she can squeal.

The lightweight dress she’s wearing gives me easy access, and so does the lack of knickers. Within seconds I have her back against a large tree, my swim shorts hanging mid-thigh, and my cock poised at her entrance.

She’s wet. So slick.

I drag my teeth down her chin and to the base of her throat. “You did so good, my Venus. So proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she whimpers, arching back to give me better access. She’s trying hard to move against me, but I keep her movements limited. There’s no space between her body and mine. Not that I make her wait long; I quickly bury myself deep and reclaim her lips. “Baby.”

That’s her new thing. She’s been calling me that since the first night, and I like it more than I should. It’s quickly becoming an obsession; see how many times a day I can get her to call me that.

“Just feel me, sweetheart.” My hips punch upward, bouncing her on my cock while I slip a hand behind her back to protect her from the bark. This is rough and fast, my punishing strokes not giving her a second of respite—bringing her to the edge quickly with one of her weaknesses.

She likes to be taken. To be manhandled and fucked rough, to be used for my pleasure.

A vicious circle.

I love to watch her break, apart and she enjoys my pleasure in the act.

“So tight, Venus. Precious little cunt,” I growl, forcing myself deeper with each stroke. And she takes it with a smile, that sexy grin that tells me she’s close and so fucking sensitive—her walls clenching.

Bringing a hand to her dress, I yank on the top and bare her breasts to me. They jiggle with each stroke, the tight tips a dusky rose that make my mouth water. Lowering my head, I suck one between my teeth and flick my tongue, timing each tease with my strokes before biting down.

“Oh my fuck!” she yells out suddenly, caught off guard by the sudden pleasurable pain. Her orgasm is hard and fast, striking me like lightning, and pulls the come from me without mercy.

“Bloody hell.” Another deep stroke, and I hold myself deep inside her. I don’t care if she gets pregnant. The bastard side of me wants that too. To have all of her. To see her grow round with my child.

Is it wrong? I give no fucks.

Is it too soon? Don’t care.

Once that thought takes root, I see it behind closed lids. Again, I pull out and slam back in, and it’s almost too much. Christ. The things she makes me want—all of this wasn’t in the cards for me, but now I’d kill anyone who tries to break what God himself can’t.

Slowly, I regain my composure. My breathing returns to normal, and I open my eyes to see her soft face smiling at me.

“Hi.”

“Hello, love.” Aliana’s hair sticks to her, and I push it back, caressing the soft skin of her cheek. “Want to shoot some more or go relax in the pool?”

“How about we relax in the pool for a bit and later come back for another lesson?”

“You look like there’s something else you want to say.”

A lovely shade of pink grazes her cheeks. “There is.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart. You can tell me anything.”

Aliana takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, her shoulders straightening back. “I know I messed up by not coming to you, but I promise it won’t happen again. Being with you makes me happy, Callum. Truly happy, and I don’t want to lose this over a family that doesn’t care about me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, but I do appreciate those words.” I peck her mouth softly. “Am I angry? Yes…” she goes to say something, but I nip her bottom lip and shake my head “…but not at you. What your father did is not something I’ll let go of. I’m warning you now that he will face my wrath, but I do it because I love you. What he did is unforgivable.”

“I’ll accept whatever your terms are for going home, but I need time. There’s my job and school and lastly, my biggest worry—”

“Your brothers?”

“Yes.”

“Has he hurt them?”

“Once.” Aliana’s eyes gleam with unshed tears, and that hits me in the chest. He’ll pay for those tears. “Dad closed them in the basement of the house for a week. They were ten and twelve at the time, and all because I refused to sneak into another politician’s office and take a file he wanted.”

My poor girl.

“I’ll get them out of the country too.”

At once, those brown eyes widen. “You will?”

“Aye.”

“I’m so lucky to have met you, Callum. I’m so grateful—”

“Never thank me for taking care of what’s mine, love. I’m honored to do so until my last breath.”

“How about we grow old together instead?”

“You have my word.” And then I kiss her, slow and sweet, while my cock hardens inside her soft heat.

“Again?” She giggles, yet I don’t miss the clenching of her walls, or the slight flush traveling from her face to the top of her breasts.

“Always.”

“Thank you for coming today,”I say a week after Brazil, entering the room and taking my seat at the head of the table. It’s weird in a way to have Casper to my right, but he’s made up his mind and his sights are set on Boston with a feisty brunette currently giving him the cold shoulder. My father and his are also in on this meeting as is Archie, who’ll be staying to work as my third-in-command. The job of my right is going to someone else, someone stateside at the moment. “I know this is short notice, but I’d like to set my plans in motion before the end of the month.”

“No problem at all,” Mauro Collado says, extending a hand from across the table. His grip is strong and expression neutral, not scared, but I notice the way he takes in the room. Everyone’s position. “We are excited for this new venture.”

“We?” Casper asks, brows furrowed.

“My brothers are also a part of the operation, Mr. Jameson.” He chuckles a bit as if remembering something humorous. “I’m the brains, while they’re a bit trigger happy.”

“Good to know in case I ever need some hired assistance.”

“They’d take it as an honor, Mr.—”

“Cut that out, mate. I’m Callum to you, and he’s Casper.”

“Understood. Gracias.” He has a woman to his right, very serious and leaning toward him. I catch the glint of a ring on her hand. She’s the wife. “The file, mi amor?” Without answering, she slides it over and he hands it to me.

At this point, it’s all a formality to the people inside the room, but it doesn’t change my plans.

“Do you have copies?”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay.” Archie anticipates and holds a hand out to me; I pass the file and he rushes over to the copier inside the room. While he’s there, I pour myself a cuppa and offer one to the others around the table. “Please, help yourselves.”

“We need one of those.” Collado takes the carafe and serves his wife and then himself, fixing each cup to their liking. Casper follows after, his like mine without sugar, and then sits back.

I can almost see the questions swirling in his head. He’s looking at the new office inside of the three-story warehouse with construction workers just outside these doors outfitting the space. There will be a showroom, a testing facility, and then this floor which overlooks everything and will be used as office space.

One for myself.

The other for sales staff.

“You’ve been busy,” my cousin says after a while, his smirk in place. “Holding out, too.”

“Just a different perspective, is all.”

“Here you go, sir.” Archie places the main copy in front of me and then goes around the table handing one out to each person sitting around the conference table.

“Thanks, mate.” Everyone but the Collados and I look at the contract. A few times, the three other Jameson heads snap up and look at me, their smiles growing wider the closer to the bottom they get. This isn’t a complicated agreement; Mauro is the supplier while I’ll distribute with a seventy/thirty split that suits us both. I’m going to showcase each piece and meet with different nations on a mass production end goal.

I take on the more dangerous side, so I take the heavier cut.

But more important than money, everything is done above board and legal.

No hiding. No small-time sales. No random searches.

I want it all.

I’m going to supply armies before they go to war. I’m going to play devil’s advocate.

I’ll design and he builds each piece; the new production location is being kept under wraps from the public and on a small private island off the coast of Spain.

“Are you shitting me?” That’s the first thing Casper says after putting his copy down. He’s sitting back, relaxed, but I see the interest. “That’s quite an ambitious goal.”

“Aye.” I mimic his relaxed posture, bringing the cup to my lips for a sip. “But doable and very profitable while everything else stays the same. The drugs and hot electronics will continue to run through the UK via containers and into the Port of Miami, the latter of which will still be heading to Central and South America—our agreement with Thiago stands. The clientele he brings to the table is very valuable.”

“And you’ve already contacted a British general?”

“I have. They’re interested in what I have to offer after sending an email with the schematics and video demonstration.”

“All in favor,” Casper calls out, not that it matters as this is a done deal, but it’s to prove a point.

All three Jamesons look at me with pride. “Aye.”

I nod and then look over at Archie. “Please bring in the suitcase.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We are very happy to do business with you, Callum. We’ve brought you a gift to celebrate.”

At Mauro’s words, my eyes snap to his and I tilt my head. “I do enjoy gifts.”

He laughs, and the others in the room follow suit. His wife, though, lifts up a large purse from beside her and pulls out a box. Nothing too big, but the wrapping is cheeky with a Happy Birthday theme. Mauro holds it out to me. “We, my family and I, hope you enjoy this.”

“Thank you.” Taking the box, I undo the wrapping and open the top. What lays inside, nestled within a soft piece of fabric, is a thing of beauty. The two guns inside are all black, heavy but when picked up and examined, the detail is on the powder coat finish. Desert Eagles with tiger stripes, the two tones of black—shiny and matte—working together flawlessly. “This is beautiful. How did you know?”

“That you like big cats?”

“Yes.”

“You mentioned feeding a tiger the first time we talked, and I ran with the idea.”

“I’m touched.” Picking up one in each hand, I test their weight and grip. “Very sleek and comfortable. This is a fine piece.”

“Aye,” Casper agrees and holds his palm out. “I’m almost jealous.”

“Wanker.” Handing over one, I let my father and uncle check out the other. Archie walks in then with my own gift. He places the case in front of Mauro. “That’s the agreed amount, and an extra ten percent to enjoy a weekend on us at the hotel I’ve booked in Monte Carlo.”

“Thank you, Callum.”

“Here’s to a lucrative business venture, partner.”