4, Rugger: The Huntress (The Grey List #3)

4

The handwriting was the giveaway.

“And, you had an opportunity to speak to me about it. You chose not to exit your car so I’m choosing not to give a fuck anymore.”

“Call me,” he demanded, releasing me, finally.

“Don’t hold your breath, Sonnie .”

I turned on my heels, clutching my purse against my side. He’d been given a pass. He wouldn’t get another.

If his paws touched me again, his brain matter would stain the floors of Bar Balgaria . That wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

Don’t.

Don’t do it.

Curiosity had killed so many cats. It certainly killed mine as I glanced over my shoulder, finding Sonnie standing in the middle of the entryway with his bottom lip tucked in his mouth and his hands folded over what I knew was a bulge in his bottoms.

Hooded eyes lingered on my frame. The black covering his body matched the cloud hanging over his head. He was trouble. I could feel it in my bones. I closed my eyes momentarily, determined to revive my dying feline.

Snap.

“Focus, baby.”

I listened to Chemistry’s voice. It led me to the elevator and then inside. I rode to the twenty-fourth floor in silence. The martinis loosened my limbs and proved beneficial to my center. The thud was revived as Eric revisited my thoughts.

I tapped the key card I’d been given against the black square that was on every door in the hallway. When the green dot blinked four times, I twisted the handle and pushed forward. Running water captured my attention.

I strolled through the massive suite until I reached the master bedroom. There was also a study that served as a guest bedroom if necessary. The sofa inside transformed into a queen-sized bed that could sleep two people at minimum.

I peeled off the layer of outerwear I’d acquired as the chill of the night intensified. Then, one by one, I removed the second and then the final layer of clothing. With a hand underneath the fold, I laid them all on the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

My heart constricted as I pulled back on the strap that was tightened around my calf. The small silver metal piece fell out of the third notch and loosened it. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, I felt unwell. Shedding my body of my peace maker caused an unsettling stir in my soul. My clothes concealed the weapon and the accessories to enhance it.

Seven hundred and forty two .

I shook my head, ridding my thoughts of the problem I’d solved internally. Still, the gun tucked under my clothing posed one. Vulnerability made my nipples soften. The cold air did little to harden them.

With a roll of my eyes, I leaned over, exposed my piece and stretched one leg after the other until I reached the bed. Underneath the three pillows that piled on top of each other, I slid my companion and removed the square plastic I felt as I retracted my hand.

There .

Clothed in confidence, I strutted toward the bathroom. The carpeted floor was gentle on the soles of my feet, but the bathroom floor welcomed me with cool tiles. Steam coated the glass of the lengthy shower. Through streaks of precipitation caused from the heat, I met Eric’s pensive gaze.

On the way to my hip, my elbow sent the stack of towels sitting on the edge of the sink tumbling to the ground. Still, my focus never wavered. The extended portion of my arm grazed the cold sink.

Ummm . I moaned internally, noting that I was sensitive to the touch. It had been far too long since a promising prospect was in my eyesight. Without a doubt, I’d make the most of our night. The twenty-five thousand dollars he’d wired to my account was additional motivation.

Those kissable lips slacked with surprise. He wasn’t expecting me. Not so soon, at least. His silence was blissful enough to wrinkle the skin of my nipples as they pebbled, again. I clenched the walls of my pussy, nearly fusing them together.

The brown tool in his hand was exactly what I needed to separate them. To split me in two. To divide them evenly. To mark their rightful places like a surveyor.

I wrapped my hand around the gold handle and pulled it backward. My feet were immediately drenched in the downpour of water. Heat summoned me.

Closer.

There. There.

My breasts grazed Eric’s chest as we stood in silence. The four inches I’d been given from my shoes had evaporated. I was just under his nose, where I felt every breath he sucked in and pushed out.

My pelvis flexed as I lifted my leg and propped my foot up on the cut-out marble designed for storing personal soap bars, bath wash bottles, and razors. Not even a quick glance would’ve landed my feet in a more perfect position. I knew the showers well. Too well, almost.

The moment was absent of words. They weren’t needed. They weren’t requested. And, they weren’t necessary.

I lifted my right hand, landing it on the back of his head where I pulled downward. Silently, I guided him to his knees. Water cascaded down his back as he drew closer to me. The scent of my womanhood was potent, mixing with the familiar smell of H20.

My arousal was met with Eric’s tongue. Involuntarily, my spine curled. My toes began to retract. The heel of my left foot kept me balanced, but I wasn’t sure for how long.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered.

Eric’s tongue against my clitoris had my head spinning. It fell backward, staring up at the ceiling of the shower where steam accumulated.

Oh fuck . My body shuttered. The rotation of the snack between his lips had the nub between mine pebbled and sensitive.

Skillfully, Eric catered to my centerpiece, never leaving my clit. He understood the key to an acute orgasm and the fact that it wasn’t licking wildly. He was using his bigger head and lessening his workload.

Fuck.

My muscles flexed as he circled my bulb at a rapid pace. I began to rethink my position when the first wave snaked up my legs. It quickened my breathing. My mouth hung open. Sheer gratitude covered my features as my face began to contort.

“Oh fuck.”

I’m cumming. The words never left my mouth. My soul was too busy escaping my body. The exits were occupied. All but the one Eric was drinking from as my inclination produced a thick, creamy secretion.

I lost control of my movements. My spine curled forward with a bow of my head. Eric’s eyes met mine for what felt like the hundredth time. A smile crossed his glistening lips.

He was proud. And, I wasn’t in a position to knock him off the horse he’d put himself on. My current task was stabilizing my breathing.

Within seconds, Eric was on his feet with his hand behind my neck, pulling me forward. Just before his lips touched mine, I placed the condom wrapper against mine. It served as a barrier between us. I didn’t have to break down the number one rule for him to understand it.

No kissing .

Eric nodded as the message I’d sent was received. He grabbed the wrapped condom from my hand and tore into the plastic. I observed, in awe of the beauty between his legs, while he rolled the lambskin, lubricated protection onto his member.

There, now .

I lowered my leg onto the shower floor.

Easy, Rugger .

Slowly, I turned around and placed both hands on the bar behind us. With any luck, it would remain intact. I was mindful not to burden it with too much of my weight. Depending on it for stabilization was fine, but for sole support was foolish.

One.

My belly button raced toward my back.

Two.

I squeezed as if I was holding kegels balls inside my vagina.

Three.

My breath hiked in my chest.

Four.

Anticipation plagued me. The tapping of his dick against my already sensitive nub nearly sent me over the top.

“Fuck!”

My anxious swearing was met with his intrusion. I was slippery, giving him immediate access to my rain forest. Eric was a big boy, but his girth was hardly a match for my pussy’s nearly insatiable hunger. She, too, was a big girl.

Meaty.

Deep.

Inviting.

Moist.

Warm.

Demanding.

Addictive .

She was one of a kind. She was black and she was beautiful, pink folds and all.

Effortlessly, he filled me. There was hardly time to adjust to his size before the first stroke sent me spiraling. I gripped the bar tighter and sealed my lids.

Yesss.

This.

Yessssss.

This was exactly what I had been waiting for. Exactly what I needed. Exactly what my body needed.

“Shit,” he huffed, digging into me from behind.

The potency of his strokes left me with no choice but to let the railing go completely. I pressed my palms against the shower wall to maintain my weight, because I wasn’t sure I could.

Eric pulled out of me and pushed right back into me. Long strokes met me with precision. His hand rounded my neck and rested in front where he squeezed. Naturally, my body rose.

“Argh shit,” he groaned.

His mouth was directly behind my ear. Heavy breathing lulled me to that faraway place I desired. Closing my eyes, I succumbed to the exactitude of his stroke, the effects of the alcohol I’d consumed, and the preciseness of his hand’s placement.

So help me, God.

I crimped. My body folded as a second wave claimed my center. By the third wave, Eric’s strokes increased in intensity and speed. The sound of our skin colliding derailed me. Like a loose cannon, I exploded.

“Fuck,” I moaned, squeezing my eyelids until discomfort sat in.

My inclination shook my core. Still, Eric drove into me, unstopping.

Fuck.

Yes.

Fuck.

I tightened around him. One contraction after the other began extracting semen from his dick.

“Goddamn, Lauren. Shit. Goddamn.”

He stiffened behind me. Quickly, I jolted forward, causing him to fall from my pot of honey. Eric’s fluids filled the condom as I watched in utter, unrestricted lust. Another round would’ve suited me, but I was still reeling from the first.

Both of his hands landed on my shoulders as he caught his breath. Unfortunately, I wasn’t his support system and had no desire to become part of it. I pushed the glass door open and stepped forward. His chest was over his toes, nearly sending him into the tiled wall.

“Lauren–” he called out to me.

“More towels?” I asked, nodding at the stack on the floor.

“On the linen shelf near the door.”

I didn’t need confirmation, but I accepted it, anyway. Oblivion was the key to a mature man’s heart when it came to women. It made him feel useful, purposeful, and necessary. It stroked his ego and made him feel like the leader society deemed man to be.

In my opinion, most were pussies and weren’t born to lead. They were born to follow. Women, on the other hand, were born leaders. A day in a woman’s shoes, and a man would crumble. Most of them, for sure.

“Be right back,” I assured him.

The cold air changed the temperature of the beads of water on my skin as soon as I stepped into the room. I wasn’t in a rush to return to the warmth of the bathroom. But, eventually, I did.

“Get in,” Eric commanded while waving me over.

My feet were planted. My right hand was extended. A towel rested on top of it.

“Put the bath towel on the rack right over there.”

Though his eyes followed the direction he was instructing me to go in, mine never left him. He pushed the glass door toward me, opening the shower after realizing I wouldn’t budge. He stepped back under the showerhead and beckoned me over once more.

“Laur–”

Pew.

The silencer on my Beretta was music to my ears. Finally, I released the breath I’d been holding.

His body fell to the ground as I removed the towel from over my hand.

There now .

The poignant scent coated the bathroom swiftly, making me turn my nose.

Fuck .

Pissed that my opportunity presented itself before I managed another round of pleasure, I sighed. But, there was little time for sulking. I made my way back to the master bedroom and redressed, one piece of clothing at a time.

With my lips pursed into a small circle, I began releasing the tune in my head. It was rather repetitive, but I loved it, nonetheless. The high-pitched sounds erupted in the silence.

I was born sick, but I love it.

Command me to be well.

A—

Amen.

Take me to church.

Notes of vanilla, bergamot, and florals consumed the smell of death. I kissed the 15ml tube of Riot from Huffington Fragrance House , forever grateful for its services.

Fully dressed with my handbag in tow, I exited the suite. Down the hall and into the elevator, I went.

Offer me that deathless death.

Oh good God

Let me give you my life

On the first floor, I stepped off the elevator. My finger pressed a single digit on my phone in my hand.

“Project 183. Messy .” I warned Royce as I ended the call.

I’d complicated her job for personal pleasure. Messy was my way of admitting I’d left DNA all over the body of my victim. I didn’t have to spell it out for her to know I’d been fucked. Neither did I have to explain it was worth it.

In my profession, personal relationships were prohibited and pointless. That wasn’t the rule, but it was my rule. I didn’t trust myself around a man long enough to not end him. The first heavy breath, sign of infidelity, chomp with an open mouth, or lifted toilet seat would land him six feet under.

I strolled through the lobby with my heart set on the door. However, an unknown force silently petitioned for my attention. My irises explored the grandeur lobby until they landed on a pair of black designer frames. In my tracks, I halted.

Sonnie .

His rounds stalked me like prey. My temperature rose. Rapidly, behind my shades, I blinked. In an attempt to regulate my racing heart, I inhaled with as much force as I exhaled with.

Fuck.

I’d lost control of my thoughts momentarily.

Gather yourself, Rugger.

I fought to regain ownership of my mind and body. The battle was swift. I won the rights while silently promising to never lose them again. Not for a second. And, especially not for a stranger.

Snap. Snap.

My stride continued, effortlessly. As I exited the hotel, I opened the phone once again and began typing a message to Royce, hoping her line was still connected.

Psal–

I flipped the phone and stuffed it in the pocket of my coat without sending it. There was no need to inquire about someone of little to no importance. He was of no concern. His presence was the same as everyone else I’d bumped into more than once tonight —pointless .

The good time he was in search of, I wasn’t capable of. I’d had my fun tonight. There wouldn’t be anymore.

Soft music greeted me as I walked into my home an hour and a half later. I’d started it from the only useful application on the smartphone I could do life without.

“Ummm.”

Closing my eyes, I pressed my back against the door. A yawn ripped through my face. Insomnia had been hot on my heels, but it seemed as if exhaustion would secure a win for once.

Good dick will do that , Roulette’s voice played in my head.

I loosened my limbs by stretching one arm across the other and pulling as far to the right as it would go. I switched arms and stretched the other as far to the left as I could manage. Opening up my pelvis, I leaned down and touched my right foot with my left hand and then followed up with the left foot and right hand.

Already, the tension from the day’s activities was fading. I made my way into the kitchen, still working out the kinks in my neck. The lone flower on the counter confiscated my attention. It could only mean one of two things. I wasn’t alone or I’d just missed my special guest.

I placed the full-sized M9A4 on the counter and unlocked the cellular device that had been attached to my hip since I’d wrapped up my night. One clip at a time, I replayed the clips from the last thirty-minutes of every camera in my home.

Each one of them were clear. However, the smell circulating the air and the lone rose on the counter made them out to be liars. I rested the phone on its screen. There was no use for it right now.

Good. Damn good. I smiled, turning on my heels.

I pressed the rectangular button to pop open the microwave. Garlic mashed potatoes, sauteed broccolini, and lamb greeted me. I grabbed my helping, my gun, and the phone before heading to the dining room table.

One fork.

One spoon.

One knife.

One glass.

One bottle of water.

One glass of wine.

One cloth.

One mat.

As expected, the table was set for one and my food was still warm to the touch. The second my plate met the mat, the phone alerted me of an incoming call. I slid my finger across the screen to answer. Silence coated the line.

“Eat, Rugger,” Rather demanded.

From the subtle sound of her background, her location was revealed. She wasn’t far from my home, possibly three and a half miles out.

“You did well,” I complimented.

“Sit down. Rest your pretty head and fill your belly.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“You have no other choice or I’m turning around and shoving the food down your throat.”

“There’s other ways of telling me you love me. You know that, right? Sneaking into my home to feed me is–”

“My way of telling you just that. Now, eat.”

The call ended abruptly. She’d stolen the opportunity for me to hang up first. She was anticipating it, which was why she pulled the trigger.

I took a look over my right shoulder at the flower on my counter. Mixed emotions gathered at the center of my chest. I released a heavy, shaky sigh. It didn’t matter that things were good for us. We’d been ripped apart.

Things would never be the same for us. Which, essentially meant, things were bad. And, they’d always be this way. Though the words would never come from my mouth, I missed our unity.

The amalgamation of our worlds every month was both torture and bliss. I desperately wanted to rewind the hands of time to be surrounded by my sisters, my mother, the leader of our syndicate, and the head of our family. There was a time when our worries were few and we didn’t have to peep around every corner we turned.

Hadn’t it been for Egypt, things for us would be catastrophic, so there was gratitude in my heart. But, there was also pain and grief. Not only was I mourning my father’s death, but the death of my family’s normalcy.

Instead of dwelling, I took my sister’s advice and bowed my head, hoping the Lord heard me. As a habitual sinner with intentions to sin again, I couldn’t say that he would.

“Dear God, thank you for the food that’s been prepared for me. Thank you for life. Not mine, but the life of those I cherish. Keep blessing them. And, if there’s room, keep blessing me. Amen.”

The tenderness of the lamb should’ve been illegal. Red wine washed a piece down before I dug into the bed of potatoes. When I finally pushed a floret of the broccolini in my mouth, I was overwhelmed with flavor.

Acts of service .

It was Rather’s love language and had always been – along with words of affirmation, and she had the perfect profession. She was gifted with words and spoke life into those who felt lifeless.

I finished dinner and ended up undressed in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom. I used the tip of my index finger to remove the contacts from my eyes. Though clear, they served a purpose. Eye recognition software didn’t stand a chance at identifying whoever was on the screen if wearing them.

Nineteen.

It was ten days before my twentieth birthday when I produced the first prototype. I searched for the dotted line near my wrist and then tore away at the bodysuit I wore. The hair extension piece came off along with it.

Together, they plummeted to the floor. I wasted no time stepping into the warm shower, promising to toss them both in the barrel of acid when I emerged. For now, I wanted to rid myself of the day’s stench.

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