Page 11 of Hard Limits

He growled in lust and slammed my hands down on the bed, trapping my wrists as he lifted himself above me and stared down at me.

“I like how you fight, baby girl. You’re pussy likes it too. You feel that?” He slid out and the sound of my wetness filled the room. “It likes to suck my dick up, real good. Ugh,” he slammed back into me and I whimpered, fisting my hands and turning my head, hiding the pleasure that ran through me.

“You can fight me all you want, but I’m not leaving you, and I’m not leaving this.”

My eyes flew to his, tear drops sliding slowly down my face. “Why?”

He gently ran his tongue along my cheek, my tears falling on it before he nuzzled my neck. “Because you’re mine.”

“But I don’t want this.”

“It’s not about what you want, baby girl. It’s about what you need.”

He gripped my hips and began that torturous movement once again. He was far from done with me and I hated that with every stroke, I was closer to becoming convinced that he was right, that this was what I truly needed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ERIC

“Fuck! You were supposed to call me a week ago! What the fuck do I pay you for if you’re not going to do your job.”

“I’m on her trail. It’s not an easy task. She’s smart, knows where to hide.”

“Bullshit! My wife is the dumbest whore you’ll ever meet,” I gripped the phone tightly, hearing a slight crack and wishing it was his skull I had between my hands instead.

“When I find her, I’ll let you know.” I gritted out, my eyes drifting to my precious girl.

I was afraid she’d leave, but she hadn’t. She knew this was a safe haven even though I was around. I’d warned her last night that if she left I’d come find her. I found her once, I would most definitely find her again, especially now that I had her scent on me. I could tell she hated it. People didn’t do well when the truth was slammed in their face. And my Aracely was going to fight me tooth and nail.

After a long time, she’d finally closed her eyes and curled up in the bed, her back to me as I left her lying there. I had avoided Shane Wyatt at all costs, but I thought it was best to finally answer one of his calls. A very bad idea.

“You better. If not, I’ll find you.”

“Is that a threat,” I growled into the phone. I knew his twisted wheels were turning, the silence engulfing the line.

“Just find her,” he snapped, and the phone went dead.

He knew better than to instigate anything with me. I’m not one of the good guys. I track people for money and hand them over to whoever pays the most. FBI, underground government agencies, Mafias, cartels, fucking sick people who don’t want their secrets being discovered. What they do with them, I don’t give a fuck, as long as that dollar sign keeps showing up.

I was thinking of retiring after my last job. That last job that nearly fucking drove me to the edge. A sixteen-year-old girl who’d run away from home. Her parents were devastated, they also knew how to work the media. The fake sobbing, the worn out looks in their eyes, how they appealed to those parents who’d lost a child. I found her quickly enough, most teenagers didn’t think of covering their tracks. She’d been hiding in a basement of a friend’s house.

I watched her for a couple days, just like I do with all my targets, including Aracely. I followed her step by step. I even knew what she ate and when she went to bed. One night, her routine was disrupted. Her friend had wanted to go out and convinced her to do so. Stupid move if you want to remain under the radar. On her way out of the club, I grabbed her. She was leaning against the wall on the side of the building, smoking a cigarette. It was easy enough to steal her away and bring her right back to her front porch.

Three months later, her body was found in the woods behind her home. A hiker had found her raped and mutilated body under a pile of dried leaves. Turns out her Father wasn’t as perfect as he appeared to be. He’d been raping her for years, until finally he got angry enough to hurt her. He’d smashed her head in with a rock, thinking he’d knocked her out. He proceeded to rape her, leaving his seed inside of her. When he went to wake her, she’d already been dead for at least fifteen minutes. He’d flipped out and hid her. Told his wife, she’d run away again.

I heard his whole confession on the mics I’d kept in their home. I never did trust them. I shot him that night. Right between the eyes while he stared up at me, pleading for his life. But he hadn’t had that mercy with his daughter, why would I ever give it to him. She deserved to have her retribution and killing him was almost satisfying.

Almost.

I spent months trying to tell myself it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t good at feeling guilt or remorse. I knew how to shut it down, how to shove it deep down inside and stay cold. But this one… fuck, this one got to me. And then the prettiest girl in the world appeared, and she erased everything I had become. Nothing mattered anymore, not the dollar signs, not the targets, not my life. I’d die for her. I knew it from the instant I saw that picture.

She was mine to own.

She belonged to me.

Fuck, we belonged together. And besides, even if she didn’t want it, which she did, I didn’t give a fuck. Finders keepers and all.

I made my way down the stairs and headed towards my pretty girl. As soon as she saw me, she ducked her head and focused on another client. There was no escaping me and she knew it. The other bartender, Trent, was his name, came up to take my order and I shook my head.

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