Defiance (The Protectors #9)(55)

“Do you know where he is now?” I asked.

Everett nodded. “He refused any kind of Secret Service protection. Which meant he pretty much had a target painted on his back. Lots of agencies and individuals that would love nothing more than to get their hands on the son of a former president. A man I met a couple of years after I lost Pierce reached out to me last year to tell me he had intel that Reese was in danger. I knew Reese wouldn’t accept my help, so I asked the man to do what he could for Reese, but to keep my name out of it.”

“And did he?” I asked.

Everett nodded. “Reese is working for him in Seattle. I get regular reports that he’s doing well…seems happy.”

“That’s good,” I said encouragingly, just because Everett looked so damn broken. Before I could say anything else, I heard the rumble of an engine and the squealing of tires. My insides dropped out and my eyes met Everett’s over the table.

“Let the games begin,” Everett said with a smile, and then he was standing. “I’ll…” he began as he looked at the dirty dishes. Raised voices came from outside…well, Nash’s raised voice. Probably throwing me under the bus.

Which was what Everett did when he said, “I’ll just let you take care of this,” as he motioned to the table and then snatched his jacket off the back of his chair.

I climbed to my feet as Everett hurried past me. He stopped long enough to settle his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to fight for what you want, son,” he said, and then he was gone. I couldn’t hear what he said a second after the front door slammed open, but the fact that Vincent didn’t respond probably wasn’t a good sign.

At least not for me.

A moment of regret went through me when I glanced at the broken watch on the kitchen island, but it didn’t last long because Vincent stepped into the room, his gun hanging loosely by his side, his face twisted into a mask of fury. And just like that the reason he’d left me in the first place came roaring back, along with the terrible fear that I could have lost him.

Before he could even say a word, I was in his face. “Say the wrong thing to me right now, Vincent, and see what happens,” I warned. “If the next words out of your mouth don’t start with an apology-”

That was as much as I got out before his lips came crashing down on mine.

It wasn’t a kiss. No, it was way too brutal for that.

It was him claiming me…punishing me, even. But that didn’t make me love it any less. Or not return the treatment.

I was barely aware of him dropping his gun onto the island behind me, and then both his arms wrapped around me in a brutally tight hold. We each fought to control the kiss, but when Vincent won out, I gladly gave him my mouth. My back hit the island behind me and a second later, cool air greeted my skin as my sweats were pushed down.

Vincent kneaded my ass as he maneuvered me backwards past the island. It wasn’t until I heard the sound of dishware breaking that I realized we’d reached the table and he’d cleared it with one sweep of his arm. The edge of the table bit into my ass as Vincent consumed my mouth. Neither of us had spoken a word, but we didn’t need to.

I knew what he wanted…it was the same thing I wanted.

No, needed.

My cock throbbed as Vincent’s jeans brushed against it. I let out a harsh cry, and then I was frantically trying to get his pants undone. I’d barely gotten the zipper down when he spun me around and forced me face-first down over the table. I grabbed onto the edges of it as Vincent began humping my ass. At some point his pants were gone and his bare cock was pressing against me.

Hungry.

Seeking.

Desperate.

Vincent’s fingers clawed at my shirt as he pushed it up, and then his nails were raking gently down my back. He kept rocking against me, his dick working its way into my crease. I bucked back against him.

“Vincent,” I called out, my voice rough and needy. When he suddenly pulled away from me, I cried out in protest and rose enough so I could look over my shoulder.

But he hadn’t gone far.

Only the few feet it had taken him to reach the counter next to the stove. He swiped a bottle of olive oil off the countertop and ripped at the top. The cap went sailing and he carelessly dumped some of the oil on his fingers. My eyes fell to his angry, flushed cock as he covered it in the slick substance. The bottle of olive oil hit the floor but didn’t shatter as he closed the distance between us.

Vincent was back on me within seconds. His mouth covered mine as his fingers pressed between my ass cheeks and then he was pushing an oil-covered digit deep inside of me. I gasped at the burn as he stretched me and moments later, another finger was joining the first. My body began trembling so bad, I had no choice but to drop my chest back down to the table.

“God, Vincent, fuck me…please!” I cried, not caring at the picture I must have made.

His finger nudged my gland and my whole body jerked. But the pleasurable sensation didn’t last because suddenly his fingers were gone and his cock was sliding into me. The pain was intense, but it wasn’t enough. I pushed back against him, trying to take him deeper.

And luckily, he gave me exactly what I wanted.

I let out a hoarse shout as he surged into me, bottoming out in one hard thrust. I reached behind me to grab his thigh.

But not to stop him.