Never Have an Outlaw's Baby (Deadly Pistols MC #3)(103)

“Just remember we're trusting you on this, brother,” Lev said. “You're trying to turn blood against blood, and history tells us you've got stiff f*cking odds of pulling it off.”

His hand moved for the vodka bottle again, but I was faster, pulling it towards my chest. My brother glared jealously.

“You think the odds weren't total shit for me breaking outta prison? We made it work, Lev. We always do. We owned those f*cking odds and bent them to our favor. Division of labor. You boys keep figuring out the best way to drop that f*cker, and leave the rest to me. I'll have Sabrina Ligiotti begging me to help kill her uncle in a week.”

Just as much as she'll be begging for my dick, I thought, feeling more hellfire churning in my balls.



It was a short, fitful sleep. The only kind I'd expect my first night as a free man.

Knowing she was right next door, ripe and ready for the plucking...f*ck. I woke up six or seven hours later with my dick beating beneath the sheets like a second heart. Took a few minutes to clear my head, get the hard-on under control, and then dress.

Shit. Light streamed in through the enormous window overlooking the countryside, a pale October sun peaking over the horizon.

I waited an extra minute for my cock to stop straining in my pants before I went to the door joining my room with Sabrina's. Hoped to hell she'd have a talk with me on peaceful terms. Pinning her to the nearest wall and pinching her swollen little clit between my fingers would be fun, sure, but I didn't think I'd be able to control myself again.

Next time I got my skin on her *, I wasn't gonna be able to hold back 'til I conquered every inch of her. I had to fill a hole, and my dick would have his pick. I'd f*ck her mouth 'til she gagged, take her ass 'til she screamed, fill her sweet f*cking * up 'til she –

No. Stop it, you bastard.

You gotta treat this just like the prison break. This is business. This is a job. You can get your dick as wet as rain after Gioulio Ligiotti's choking on his own blood.

There are hundreds of chicks who'll be glad to f*ck and suck. There always are.

I steadied one hand on the cherry wood door, feeling for the silver knob with the other. The thoughts weren't much comfort.

Yeah, * always came fresh and easy ever since I'd been old enough to pump lava outta my balls. But there wasn't much to admire about the girls who sank to their knees right away, wet and moaning before they even felt my fingers, my hands, my lips.

I liked it rough. Challenging. I liked to f*ck the girls who didn't admit how bad they wanted it – and the dark haired Italian thing behind the door had every reason in the world to hate my guts.

Too f*cking bad. Ready or not, here I come.

I didn't knock. It was my f*cking house, my rules, and nobody matched my dominion here except Lev and Daniel.

My dick started throbbing against my zipper again. So much for settling the f*ck down.

The curtains were still drawn around her bed. I quick stepped my way over there and ripped the partition at the base open, hoping I'd see her naked.

“Goddammit. What the f*ck?” The bed was empty.

For a second, I rushed out, stalking the room like a wolf who'd caught a rabbit's scent. My brothers had this room cleansed of anything heavy and sharp she could pick up and use against us before she arrived.

Where the f*ck could she go? There was no place to hide, nowhere to roost for an ambush.

A low growl slipped out my throat. Then I noticed the big vanity, where she'd shed her gown, an empty glass of water next to it.

Of course. I felt like a f*cking idiot. Old Grigor, the family servant, had been through already, or else had one of his underlings take her down to breakfast. I'd overslept.

Snarling, I stepped out and punched the code into the panel, opening the locked door and stepping into the hall. It was a quick march down to the dining room, all while I wondered how long I'd been off in la-la land dreaming about all the dirty shit I wanted to do to this chick.

The double doors to the big dining room swung open. There she was – right next to my two brothers near the head of the table – a nice spread of food, juices, and coffee laid out for the trio.

“Good morning, Anton.” Daniel smiled coolly.

I stepped over and took the seat next to her, glancing at her face as I sat. She was red eyed, frustrated, like she was holding in tears or volcanic rage. Maybe both.

“What the f*ck's going on here? Somebody should've woke my ass up so we could all sit down together.”

“You needed your beauty sleep, brother.” Lev grinned. “We thought we'd better let you rest while we met the house guest ourselves. It's only been twenty minutes or so. You came down sooner than we expected.”

I looked at her. “What did they say to you?”

“Your brothers...they're complete *s,” she said, a hateful glint in her eye. “Just like you.”

The anger stabbed deep. But what really got to me was seeing the little plate beneath her, a few orange slices and a muffin sitting on it. All untouched.

I bolted up and slammed my fists on the wood. “Breakfast time's over for you two f*cks. Go work on the shit we discussed last night. I told you I'd handle the rest – and it's gonna get handled a helluva lot easier without you f*cks rubbing your noses in this shit.”

Daniel stood first, crumpling his tablecloth and throwing it on his empty plate. He took a couple steps away from the table, passing me on his way out, and paused.