Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (16 page)

“Look, Lily, I'm really sorry about what happened back there. I was stepping into that courtyard, and I saw the guy with the shotgun, and I saw you, and I panicked. I should've just shot him. Any other time, and I would have. I don't know what -” he began explaining, but she held up her hand.

“I don't care,” she stated.

“Huh?”

“
I don't care,
” she repeated herself. “I just want my information. I want to know where Stankovski is. Let's just end this now.”

“
I
care. I thought you were dead, I -” he kept going.

She felt like pulling her hair out. Her brain was waging a war with her heart, and the whole mess was driving her insane.

“You don't care!” she shouted.

“I care
too much
.”

“
You don't
. I could've died a dozen different times in the last six months.
More
. And you wouldn't have known it. You would have never known it. So let's cut the bullshit, De Sant. Tell me what I want to know about Stankovski, tell me where he is, where he's going to be,” she demanded. He looked a little surprised at her outburst, and then a lot angry.

“The fuck I don't care! You think I stormed that building in Africa for my health!? I did it to save you. Same reason why I left you. Do you think that was easy for me!?” he yelled back.

Don't do this. Don't listen to this. The only reason he's here is because of those stupid diamonds – the
real
reason he saved you in Africa.

“I don't really care. Here. Here's your goddamn payment,” she snarled, holding out the canvas bag. He didn't move.

“This isn't about that, and you know it,” he said in a low voice.

“All I know is that
everything
has been about this. Take them,” she insisted, taking a step closer to him.

“I don't want them.”

“All you ever wanted was them!” she yelled again. “So take your goddamn payout, and give me what you owe me!”

She chucked the bag at him, but he made no move to catch it. It slammed into his chest and bounced off, hitting the floor hard. It slid to the edge of the room, the top portion opening up and spilling a handful of stones across the floor. He didn't even look at them.

“Lily, I don't want the diamonds,” he said. She threw her hands up.

“Jesus, De Sant, then what do you want!?”

“I want you to call me Marc.”

Her brain splintered a little. During their time apart, she'd worked very hard at pretending like she didn't care about him anymore. She called Kingsley “
Law
” in order to maintain a professional relationship with him. She called Marc “
De Sant
” to separate the man she'd fallen for in Africa from the man who'd left her in Africa. The guy standing in front of her had no right to bring him up and shove him in her face. She whipped the gun out from behind her back and pointed it straight at his throat.

“You left me!” she shouted at him. “I trusted you and
you left me!
I believed in you, but you never believed in me. You left me in some country I'd never heard of, with nothing. You just
left me
.”

There was a tense silence. Marc stared at her, completely calm. Lily was breathing heavy, almost shaking with anger, but the hand holding the gun was steady.

She should have been yelling at him for risking her life, for getting her shot. For stringing her along by witholding information. For being a liar, and a manipulator, and an all around bad guy. The
worst
guy.

But all that was going through her head were the words from his letter, telling her to go home.

How could I have gone home? Home had become wherever he was.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, and it hurt her heart. “You know I only did that because -”

She reached forward and racked the slide. Suddenly, it was serious. Marc shut his mouth.

“I know what I was told. That I wasn't good enough. Isn't that right? I wasn't good enough for Marcelle De Sant!”

“You were
too good
for me, that was the problem.”

“Shut up, De Sant.”

“
Marc.
”

“
Shut up!
” she shrieked, taking a step forward. “Give me the information, or I swear to god, I will shoot you!”

“Go ahead. I probably deserve it,” he replied, a small smile playing on the edge of his lips.

She was close to losing it. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. Lily couldn't remember the last time she'd cried from being upset. Africa? Certainly not once since then, and she didn't want Marc to be the one to change that.

“Do you know what I promised myself? Back in Africa, when you first chained me up?”

“What?” he asked, taking a small step towards her.

“I told myself I would kill you. That at the end of our journey, I would shoot you in the head. Put a bullet in your brain, and end my misery,” she whispered.

“Well, sweetheart. Our journey has definitely come to an end,” he whispered back.

Don't say that to me. We can't ever be over.

She gasped and choked on a sob. As a tear ran down her cheek, realization swept through her mind. It had never ended for her. She had lied to herself for the last six months, telling herself that it was over. That it had been a chapter in her life that was long done. But it had all been a lie. It wasn't over. She was still in the middle of it. Somewhere on a road, counting the days. Waiting, for the last six months, for Marc to pick her back up.

She had a cocked and loaded gun in her hand, but Marc wasn't afraid. She was pretty sure he wasn't afraid of anything. He knocked her arm to the side and charged forward. Lily didn't move, just let him barrel into her, just like he'd done in the past. Just like he always did when she was in his presence. His hands were gripping her head, yanking her close, and she let out another sob. Then his mouth was on hers, curing all her woes. Solving all her problems.

She dropped the gun as he backed her up against the wall. His hands moved from the side of her head and dove into her hair, pulling at the strands. His whole body pressed against hers, and every nerve ending she had welcomed him home. Couldn't believe that he'd been gone for so long.

“I'm sorry,” he was whispering as his mouth moved along the side of her jaw. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry.”

“You left me,” she gasped, dragging her nails across his shoulder blades. “And then you made that stupid deal. I felt like it all meant nothing to you.”

“Are you kidding? You mean
everything
, that's why I had to go. Maybe I did it wrong, but that's why. You were too perfect for me,” he said, his breath hot in her ear while his hands pulled at her t-shirt, dragging it up her body.

“You're so stupid, De Sant.
So stupid.
I'm not perfect. I've never been perfect,” she told him, then lifted her arms as her shirt was yanked free.

“You're perfect
to me.
”

Better than revenge. Better than diamonds. It was everything she'd ever wanted to hear from him.

“I worried about you. I thought you'd come back, or at least come see Kingsley. But nothing. Not even rumors about you. I began to think you'd been killed,” she told him. He chuckled, nibbling along her collarbone.

“Please. You think I'd let myself get killed without finishing a job? Without a kiss goodbye? Goddamn, I missed you, Lily,” he moaned, his mouth trailing down her right breast.

“Really? Cause I seem to recall you telling me that I didn't have tits anymore,” she reminded him.

“Your tits are amazing – I was
angry
at you. You were so hard to reach, and so different. A different woman, looking at me like she'd never met me before. Stronger than me,” he explained, hunching down as he kissed the valley between her breasts.

“Same woman. I was always stronger than you, you just never realized it,” she pointed out.

The ace bandage had come loose during their fumblings and Marc pulled it away, letting it drop to the ground. Then he was almost kneeling on the floor, his hands and lips soft against the huge red spot that covered most of her ribs on her left side.

“I can't believe I did this to you,” he whispered.

“Me, neither. You used to be good, De Sant. What happened?”

“
You
happened.”

His hands moved around to her ass and he squeezed her before he stood upright, pulling her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he yanked her away from the wall, walking them across the room.

It was a tidal wave, something she couldn't stop, something that was swallowing her whole. It was the first time, in six months, that she felt
right
. Like everything was okay. Still fucked up and bad and wrong, but … they were together. He wanted her.

Everything is okay.

He dropped her on the bed and began pulling at her pants. As soon as he'd yanked them free, Lily sat up and grabbed his belt, ripping it open. While her fingers worked, he sunk his hands into her hair, tilting her face up so he could kiss her again. Once she got his pants loose and pushed down past his hips, he shoved her back, crawling over her while kicking his legs free of the material.

They were moving too fast, making up for lost time. She had been so angry at him, but now she just wanted this; this sense of completion. Of fulfillment. She'd been empty for months and months. Hollow. She
needed
this.

“God, I missed this. I
dreamed
about this,” Marc groaned, his hands working under her sports bra, shoving it away from her chest.

“Don't talk. You just ruin things when you open your mouth,” she said, struggling to get the material over head and free of her arms.

“You sure about that?”

She gasped when his lips clamped down around her nipple, sucking hard. Then he was licking a path up to her throat, his fingers replacing his mouth at her breast.

They went from fast to a double time march. His hand was between her legs, two fingers making themselves at home. Her tongue was in his ear, her fingernails scratching across the scars on his chest. He hissed as she opened old wounds, then he was moving his hand up her body, forcing his fingers into her mouth.

While her tongue worked around his knuckles, she felt him moving around between her legs. She bit down on his fingers as he started pushing inside of her and he hissed again, dragging his hand away from her mouth. She cried out when his hips finally met hers.

I can't believe this is happening again. Why aren't we always doing this? It's the only time we see eye to eye on anything.

“See? This is what home feels like,” he sighed in her ear, and absurdly, she felt like crying.

“I'd forgotten,” she whispered back.

“
I'll remind you.
”

He gripped the back of her knee and shoved her leg forward, almost till it was touching her chest, and he pushed himself up so he was kneeling. He thrust against her and she cried out again, clawing her fingers through her hair and down her face.

“Oh … my … god … I really had forgotten what you're like,” she was gasping for air even as he pounded it out of her. He chuckled.

“I get it now,” he grunted, his other hand pressing down at the base of her throat.

“Get what?”

“Why you've been so angry at me.”

“I'm angry because you're an asshole.”

That earned her another laugh.

“It's because you're
sexually frustrated
. I guess Kingsley really didn't get lucky.”

“Mmm, you so sure? Maybe I've been frustrated because he hasn't touched me since you came back in the picture,” she teased. He glared down at her, and the hand on her chest moved to her mouth, covering it entirely. His thumb hooked under her chin, holding her jaw in place.

“You want to see me kill him? Keep talking like that,” he growled, and his thrusts became almost brutal.

Lily's eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned in time to his hips, the sound muffled by his hand. She didn't even care. She'd gone so long without him, that just being in his presence had been like foreplay. He was right – she
had
been frustrated. Just a ball of pent up sexual energy, and she was ready to explode. A tremor ripped through her body, a precursor to the monster orgasm that was building, and it was Marc's turn to shout as her body locked down around him. His hand fell away from her mouth and he stilled for a moment.

“Please. Please, Marc,
please,
” she whined, undulating her hips beneath him. He leaned down, pressing his chest flat against her.

“God, finally, there it is. Say it again,” he groaned, working his hips in a circle, but not pulling back from her. It drove her insane, the friction of his movements combined with the feeling of being so full with him.