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“I don’t know. But I swear, Miri, he will never get you.”
“I know.” I tilted my head back to look up at this gorgeous man. So brave, so focused, so much pain living inside his mind. “I don’t want you hurt either.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Jag gave me a quick kiss and with a strong hand to the back of my neck, he hugged me against his chest. “We’ll figure it out, doll.”
Jag
It was done.
I was no longer the Boss of Austin. From now on, I was M. Jagger Bosman, private citizen. Very wealthy private citizen, but private all the same. Gone were the warehouses, the trucks, the suppliers and contacts. My employees went to work for Brick with assurances he would continue to pay them and nothing would happen to my men.
Frank, Sarge, Sammy, and a few of the security guards were my only remaining employees, not counting housekeeping and my private chef. New identities had been ordered for us, and all I was waiting for was the finished paperwork so we could leave Texas and never look back.
“I don’t like my new name,” Miri groused.
“It’s fine,” her friend, Cat, said.
They were sitting at the kitchen table, eating sandwiches for dinner and discussing where we could go and what they would do when we got there.
“Hmph,” Miri said. “I still wish I could have picked own my name.” She shot me an evil glare.
I turned to hide a smirk. Miri was really put out over her new identity. It literally never occurred to me to ask for specific names. You got whatever the guy had on hand. That was how it worked.
“We’ll still call you Miri, you know,” Cat said, trying to placate my pouting doll.
I paced the room, glancing out the windows every so often. Since the two separate, coordinated attacks, and my subsequent hospitalization, I was on high alert, unable to relax in my own home. Part of me couldn’t wait to get the papers and get the fuck out of here, if for no other reason than to get Miri somewhere safe. Another, darker part of me was snarling and clawing at my insides, hungry for revenge, to take out El Cuchillo and watch the life drain from his twisted fucking eyes. I wanted—no needed—him dead and I needed to be the one to do it.
Watching our backs for the rest of my life didn’t sound like a good plan. Sarge had a much better plan. One Miri wasn’t going to approve of. It had been three weeks since I had been shot and I couldn’t wait any longer. I was strong enough and the time had come to tie up the loose ends in Austin and start over.
“Bedtime,” I said the second Miri pushed her empty plate away.
“It’s only seven,” Miri complained.
Undeterred, I stood, walked around the table, grabbed her by the wrist, and tugged her up out of her chair and into my arms. “We need to talk,” I growled, my cock already half hard. I flung her over my shoulder, her head hanging down my back.
“You shouldn’t be doing this until you’re all healed,” she squeaked.
I slapped her butt and laughed. “I feel great.” She huffed as I walked out of the kitchen, Cat’s laughter fading the further we went down the hall.
Up the stairs and into my—no, our—bedroom, I closed the door and dropped Miri on the bed. She gasped and rolled into a sitting position, her mouth curved down.
“What did you want to talk about?” Miri’s eyes tracked me as I moved next to the bed.
Heat unfurled in my groin, flames licking up my spine as my dick grew even harder. It had been way too long since I felt her tight pussy around my cock. I reached behind my neck, pulled off my shirt, and toed out of my shoes, never looking away from Miri’s stunning face and those gorgeous green eyes. Her pale skin flushed, red lips parted, and her lust-filled gaze flicked up and down my body, lingering on the shiny pink scar on my chest right below my shoulder. She swallowed and I saw her chest expand and contract faster as her breathing picked up.
“I-I thought we were going to talk.”
I yanked my belt out of the loops and flipped open my jeans, shoving my boxers down with them and kicking both aside. Her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips and I felt it from my cock to my balls.
“Fuck first, talk after,” I growled. Miri gulped and watched, her gaze riveted as I stalked over to the bed and grabbed her by the ankle. She squealed when I dragged her across the slick sheets, not stopping until her legs hung over the edge of the mattress, framed by my thighs. “Clothes off.”
I lifted the hem of her shirt and yanked it over her head. Then I attacked her tiny pink shorts, flicking open the button with ease. In one swift move, I pulled them off and Miri was naked, all creamy skin and russet-colored freckles.
“Jesus. You’re so fucking perfect.” I licked my lips and watched as Miri’s eyes darkened. I lifted a leg to put my knee on the bed, but my little doll was faster. She bolted upright, her face now level with my groin, my dick bobbing right in front of her sinful mouth. Miri’s tongue poked out again, only this time she licked a path across my leaking slit, lapping up every drop of fluid. “Holy shit!” I jerked at the ripple of pleasure that shot straight to my balls.
Miri glanced up with an innocent smile and stuck that wicked tongue out once more. She ran it over my thick cock head, flicking her tongue back and forth across the frenulum and into the slit. I groaned, my knees weak from intense pleasure. Miri licked her lips and dove forward, sucking my cock into the wet heat of her mouth, and I nearly collapsed to the floor.
“Jesus, doll. Fuck. Your mouth…” Miri bobbed up and down on my cock and much too soon, I was panting and moaning, straining to hold back my orgasm. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard. Then she pulled back, swirling her tongue around the head before taking my full length to the back of her throat. When she swallowed around my cock and her throat muscles gripped my dick like a tight fist, I shouted and pulled out of her mouth with an obscene pop.
