13. Nik

CHAPTER 13

Nik

Brie’s mouth is greedy, and I let her take control of the kiss. I could lose myself in this, and I don’t know if she’s aware of how much power she has over me. But I’m happy to give it over to her.

When I break the kiss she leans forward, chasing my mouth—but she’s been so vulnerable here with me, and I don’t want to take advantage. “Brie,” I whisper. “We can stop if you?—”

“Don’t stop,” she murmurs. “Please don’t stop.”

We’re already naked, so there’s nothing between us but space, and that’s quickly gone as I press up against her. “God, you’re gorgeous,” I tell her, watching the flush spread down her neck.

“Look who’s talking,” she counters. I reach down, but she grabs my hand.

“My turn to watch you come apart for me,” she tells me. “No—don’t argue. You’re supposed to do exactly what I say, remember? So right now I’m ordering you to let me do exactly what I want to you. And all you have to do is say, ‘yes, ma’am.’”

“Yes, ma’am ,” I tell her fervently, and snuggle her close as I roll onto my back for her, legs opening to her touch. Her hand slides between my thighs, fingers seeking out my clit right away, and she gives a happy little hum.

“Do you like this?” she whispers, leaning in to kiss my ear, my neck, my jaw, anything her lips can reach. “Me taking control?”

“Now and then,” I say with a grin. She slides two fingers over my clit, already hard and wet. “Oh, fuck.”

“Sounds to me like you love it. And that’s good,” she tells me, trailing a tongue over my lips, then pulling away as I try to kiss her. “Because I like having you at my mercy.”

I chuckle and run a hand through her hair. “Then do your worst,” I tell her fondly.

Brie gives me a wicked grin, and before I know it, she’s wriggling out of my arms and heading south, her mouth exploring every inch of my body along the way. I pull the sheet aside so I can watch her, and when she reaches my thighs, wriggling her whole body between them, she looks up at me, lust and mischief sparkling in her eyes.

“Remember, I’m in charge now,” she reminds me.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

And then she lowers her mouth and runs a flat tongue up my slit, pressing my cunt wide open as she goes, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “Jesus Christ, Brie,” I groan.

She chuckles, and does it again, teasing me, driving me crazy. “Maybe I’ll just stay here for an hour,” she muses. “Keep you on edge. Because I could eat you out all day.”

Her words send a bolt of desire straight to my clit, and I buck my hips toward her, eager for more. She obliges, her tongue circling and flicking, lighting up my entire body.

And then she pulls back.

I thread my fingers through her hair, gripping it tight for a moment, and then remember she’s supposed to be the one in charge. She gives a little huff of laughter against my wet flesh as I give a groan of frustration.

“Eat it or leave it alone,” I tell her. “Just stop playing around.”

“But I love watching you squirm. And we’re playing by my rules right now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I’m starting to regret that, though. If she really wants to teach me a lesson, she might edge me for an hour.

And just as I thought, she gives me another long, slow lap and then pauses again. “I’m going to tease you for as long as I like,” she tells me. “But I’ll give you what you want if you stay still.”

I grip the sheets, trying to control my hips as Brie continues her delicious torture. And every time I give in to need and press up into her mouth, she chooses to wander even further from the target, her tongue tracing lazy patterns over my inner thighs.

At last, I let my hips lift off the bed, forgetting all about self-control. “I need more,” I tell her, panting.

Brie chuckles, her hot breath fanning over my aching center. “Patience, darling. I’m savoring every inch of you.”

And she resumes her teasing, placing open-mouthed kisses along my folds, never quite giving me the pressure I crave. I’m trembling with need, my clit throbbing almost painfully. I hear myself repeating her name over and over, pleading with her, and she finally takes pity on me, her tongue flicking over my clit relentlessly. I moan, bucking against her, asking wordlessly for more. And she gives it to me, letting her lips close on the sensitive bud, working me with her mouth and tongue, sending me rocketing right to the edge. My thighs shake, my heart races, and I’m right on the edge, so close to coming?—

And Brie pulls away. I let out a frustrated groan, my hips chasing her retreating mouth.

“Not yet,” she purrs, sliding up my body. “I want to feel you come against me.”

Before I can protest, she’s straddling my thigh, her hot, slick pussy pressed against my skin. She grinds down, coating me in her wetness as she takes her own pleasure for a few seconds, then re-positions herself. She’s right there, her cunt aligned perfectly with mine, our clits brushing together.

“Fuck,” I gasp as she starts to move. The friction is exquisite, sending sparks of pleasure through my entire body.

Brie sets a torturously slow pace, rocking against me with deliberate strokes. Her hands find my breasts, kneading and pinching as she rides me. I try to buck up, to increase the pressure, but she tuts disapprovingly.

“My pace, remember?” she says with a wicked grin. “You’ll come when I say you can.”

I groan in frustration but nod my agreement. Brie rewards me by speeding up her movements, her pussy sliding over mine, the slick heat driving me wild.

I can feel the pleasure building, my body tensing as I teeter on the edge. But Brie shows no sign of letting me tip over.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please, Brie. I need to come.”

She keeps rocking against me, her own breath coming faster now. “Not yet. You’ll know when I want you to come.”

The words are barely out of her mouth before she lets out a cry and I feel her creaming all over me. “Not fair,” I gasp, as she shudders through her orgasm.

“So very fair,” she chuckles breathlessly. “Remember the other night when you rolled through a half-dozen orgasms and gave me one? ”

The memory of it is enough to have me shaking with desire. “You have to admit, you had a hell of an orgasm when you got there.”

“ One , Nik.”

“So this is payback?”

“This is payback.” Brie slides back down my body, and puts her mouth on my pussy again.

I can hardly complain, because she’s sucking and licking and fucking me with her tongue until I’m lost in the sensation, the heat building up and up…

She pulls back.

“You’re just being cruel now,” I pant, and she just gives a coy shrug.

“Maybe.”

And then her tongue is back on my clit, her lips closing around it, sucking, and the pressure is exquisite, too much, and not enough, and I’m right there, right on the brink, and then I’m exploding under her wicked tongue.

It’s only after the last shockwaves have subsided that I realize that Brie has been playing with herself the whole time, and she comes again as I watch, her mouth still buried in my pussy, her moans muffled by my flesh.

It takes us both a few minutes to recover.

“Payback is a bitch,” I mumble, once my heart rate has slowed to something resembling normal.

“And so am I.” Brie giggles, but then grows more serious. “I needed that,” she says. “But now it’s time to get to work.”

“What do we do first?” I glance at the clock and do a double take. It’s past six in the evening. We’ve slept the whole day. “Whoa—we should probably check on Holden.”

Brie sits up in bed, determination flooding her face. “We also need to get the full story from Frank on what happened to Terry that night—and sniff out if maybe Frank actually had something to do with it.” She gives a few playful sniffs to punctuate her words, and then wrinkles up her nose. “But first, I guess we’d better shower again, since we stink of each other.”

We shower fast and then dress. For me, that means pulling on my underwear, still a little damp after rinsing it out when we first got in here, and then my jeans and t-shirt, both of which look decidedly worse for wear.

But watching Brie transform herself is like witnessing alchemy. She has a full drawer of pretty under-things to choose from, but she goes practical—for her—and sticks with black satin. Over that, she adds a shirt that looks like liquid gold as she shrugs it on. Then come the leather pants—also gold, because of course they are—that hug every curve in a way that makes my mouth salivate once more for her.

I try not to stare, but it’s a losing battle. Every choice is deliberate, part of the careful reconstruction of Brie Colombo, future queen of this criminal empire.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She sticks her tongue out at me in the mirror, a smile playing at her lips as she starts her makeup routine. The vulnerability of earlier is gone, replaced by this confident creature that I adore just as much. She radiates a magnetism that draws me in like gravity.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just admiring your armor,” I tell her, and her smile deepens, telling me I’ve hit on something true.

“That’s exactly what it is.” She leans closer to the mirror, applying something that makes her cheekbones shimmer like desert heat. “People react to what they see. Change the mask, change their reaction.” Her hands move with practiced precision, transforming her face with subtle touches of color and shadow. Each stroke of the brush is like watching an artist at work. “Sometimes they need to see the grieving widow. Sometimes the bitch. Sometimes the ditzy blonde.”

I used to judge her for this chameleon act, back when Eva first ordered me to watch over her. I thought her superficial, phony…when in fact she was smarter than all of us. And she fooled me, too. “I used to think you were fake,” I admit.

She pauses, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “And what do you think now?”

“Now? Now I know how amazing you are. And I adore every facet of you. The strength, the fear, the determination. Every version of you is precious, and every one of them is worth protecting.”

Her free hand finds mine, squeezing gently.

We head up to Holden’s suite first to see how he’s doing, and I keep Brie slightly behind me as we go, scanning constantly for threats. The early evening staff nod respectfully as we pass—dealers heading home, cleaners preparing for the night shift, security changing guards—but I scrutinize each of them. The most dangerous enemies often wear the most innocent faces, and I won’t forget that server-turned-assassin in the elevator any time soon.

Was it maybe Larry Caruso who set that up? It seems unlikely. That guy in the elevator was green, unskilled. Caruso has much more experienced operators to call on. As does Vince Sabatelli, and certainly Frank Colombo.

But I shake myself mentally. Now is not the time to have my thoughts wander, while we’re out in the open.

“What is it?” Brie murmurs.

“Nothing,” I murmur back. “Let’s focus on Holden for now.”

The guards are there, two of the four I picked out, having agreed to work in shifts. Holden looks like hell when he opens his door. Bags under his eyes speak of more than just one sleepless night.

“The footage shows nothing,” he says without preamble, waving us in and toward his laptop. The suite behind him is a mess of coffee cups and scattered papers. “Absolutely fucking nothing. Any of it.”

“Have you slept?” Brie asks, sounding worried.

“How the fuck could I sleep when my life might be in danger?” he snaps. “Did you sleep?”

Brie looks a little guilty, and ignores the question. “Let me see what you’ve got.” She moves closer to the laptop and I position myself where I can watch both the screen and the door. Old habits die hard, and new threats make them stronger.

The footage from outside Holden’s suite plays: an empty corridor, utterly unremarkable. “Can you see that ghost effect?” I ask Brie, remembering the almost-there shadows we spotted in the previous tampering. She was the best at spotting it.

“No.” Frustration edges her voice. “Nothing.”

“They must have known we spotted the anomalies,” Holden says, slumping in his chair. The defeat in his posture makes him look younger, more vulnerable. “Took more care this time.”

“Or they just taped right over it,” I suggest. “Easier to substitute looped footage of an empty corridor. No clocks or shadows to worry about.”

“Oh yeah.” Holden rubs his face with both hands. “Hadn’t thought of that.” He looks up at Brie, managing a wan smile. “How do you still look so perfect? I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Righteous anger,” Brie says, her voice taking on that edge—the one that means someone’s going to regret crossing her. “Whoever is behind this hurt people I love. They’re going to pay for that.”

“Did you?” Holden asks suddenly, his voice small. “Love Terry?”

“Of course.” Brie’s answer comes without hesitation. “And you. And the whole damn Colombo Family.”

Holden snorts softly with derision. “No offense, Brie, but the Family doesn’t seem to return the sentiment.”

“They just need time.” Brie’s confidence could move mountains. I’ve seen her face down mobsters and killers, but this absolute certainty in her voice still surprises me. “Speaking of which, it’s time we interviewed Frank. Get the full story about what he knows.”

“Can I come?” Holden straightens, eager, and my stomach tightens. Having him there would just complicate things. “I don’t want to get shuttled constantly between here and the damn security room.”

Brie hesitates, and I can see her weighing loyalty against practicality. The struggle plays out in the slight tension around her eyes, invisible to anyone who hasn’t studied her face as carefully as I have. “No,” she says finally, and I try not to show my relief. “Sorry, Holden, but this is Family business.”

“So I have no place in the Family?” Holden sounds sharp with hurt. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Of course not.” Brie softens her tone. “You’re my family. That’s why I need you safe.”

“Safe?” He barks out a cynical laugh. “I don’t feel particularly safe right now, with a couple of rent-a-cops outside the door. Where are you hiding out that’s so secure?”

I step in before this can escalate, before the hurt between them can grow any deeper. “We can arrange better security for you if you need it.” I keep my voice neutral. “Additional guards, different suite, whatever you need.”

“Just hurry up and find who did this.” He stands abruptly, exhaustion evident in every movement. The weight of fear and uncertainty seems to press down on his shoulders. “Guess I’ll be down in security again later, if you can spare the time to drop by.”

Yikes. Brie shows admirable restraint by not rolling her eyes, but after we leave, she’s very quiet. She stares at the doors in the elevator as we descend to the conference room floor where we’ll be meeting Frank. “Holden’s right, you know,” she mutters at last as we get out. “None of us are safe until we figure this out.”

I move closer, letting my hand rest at the small of her back as we walk. Through the thin material of her shirt, I can feel the tension in her muscles, tight and strained. “Then let’s hope Frank will say something useful—or incriminating,” I murmur.

She leans into my touch slightly, a silent acknowledgment of trust. “Do you think he really knows anything more about the will? Or about who killed Terry, or about who tried to kill me, or?—”

“I think everyone in this place knows something ,” I say, before she can really spin out. “The trick is figuring out who knows the important parts.”