Black Listed (19 page)

The moment she closed her eyes, her phone chimed, signaling a text had come through. She snatched it off the nightstand and read it. Although the phone number was listed as unknown, she knew from the message it was Sawyer.

I forgot my wallet, and the key to the room is in it. Can you let me in? I'm in the hallway.

She laughed as she rolled out of bed and crossed the suite to the front door. He should've just had Oz break in again.

When she got to the door, she swung it open, expecting to see her husband's face.

Her laugh was suddenly cut short as her eyes fell on the last man she wanted to see.

“Mitch.”

H
ER BROTHER HADN
'
T
improved with age. Although he was only in his thirties, he looked as if he was much, much older. His olive skin had an unhealthy grayish tint to it, and his eyes were bloodshot.

The scent of alcohol slapped her in her face. It was only nine in the morning, and he was already drinking. She remembered him always having a beer in his hand, but she'd never considered that he might have a drinking problem.

She went to shut the door, but he wedged his foot inside. “Moving up in the world, aren't you, sis?”

“Hello, Mitch.” Her heart was beating so quickly she felt as if it was going to jump out of her chest.

His face contorted into a half smile, half sneer. “Aren't you going to invite your oldest brother in?”

Could she say no?

One way or another, she needed to find out why he was here and what he wanted from her. With the exception of causing her car accident, he hadn't hurt her. She had to believe he wouldn't harm her now.

She held the door wide open for him and swept out her hand in welcome. “Come in. What are you doing here? Did Asa tell you where to find me?”

His eyes turned dark, fury emanating from him. “Asa? You've been in contact with him all this time?”

“No,” she said, trying to keep him calm. “He found me from the newspaper. Just like you did, I'm assuming.”

Trapping her inside, he leaned against the door, his back up against it and his arms folded in front of him. “I got tired of waiting for Hayes to find you. Kept track of him for years, thinking maybe you'd think it was safe to go back to him or his investigators would find you. Never thought you'd be stupid enough to get your photo taken. You've gotten lazy in the past few years. But that's all going to change now that I've found you.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a shaky voice, unable to conceal her fear.

His smile broadened, displaying yellowed teeth. “You're going to give me that black list, and then you're coming with me.”

She shook her head, wondering if there was another way out of here. “I'm not going anywhere with you.”

He pushed off the door and stalked to her. “Where is it, Annaliese? You got it here with you? Couldn't find it in your condo or your office.”

She took a giant step backward. “You're the one who trashed them?”

“Trashed them?” He laughed. “Looked good as new when I was there. Busted through your locks, though. You really should invest in better ones.”

She pointed at the door. “Get out.”

His brow shot up in amusement. “Tell me where it is.”

“Somewhere you'll never find it.” She squared her shoulders and spoke with a confidence she didn't feel. “And don't think for a second I don't have a contingency plan in case something should happen to me. If I die or disappear, the black list goes straight to the Feds.”

He loomed over her, his whiskey stench overwhelming. “I'm not going to kill you. You and me, we're going to work as a team again. We'll be the new Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Bonnie and Clyde were killed by the cops,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “Then we'll be better than them.”

He was crazy if he thought she'd go anywhere with him.

“I have no desire to go back to the life of a criminal. I've got a good life now. Why can't you just let me be?”

“You ain't living. You're biding your time until your life begins again.” He grabbed her by her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Conning is in your blood. You don't turn your back on it. You can pretend all you want, but it's who you are, and one day, you won't be able to control yourself. It will start with a little lie. Nothing too fancy, but just to see if you can get away with it. And when you do, that high will surge through your blood, and you'll crave a stronger hit. I'm saving you the trouble and all that wasted time you'll spend being someone you're not. Don't you remember the rush you got when you pulled off a successful con? Don't you miss it?”

Miss it? Most days, she felt as though she hadn't stopped. Pretending to be Lisa Smith was just another long con. Only this time she hadn't been conning a mark. She'd been conning herself.

“No,” she said vehemently. “Because I never got any satisfaction out of swindling people. Only you and Mom and Dad did. I did it because I had no choice. Because I didn't have any other options. But now I do, and I choose to work a legitimate job for my money.” She shook off his hold on her and stormed to the door, opening it. “So I'm going to tell you again, get the hell out of this hotel and out of my life. For good.”

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't leave. But with a swagger a man who looked like him shouldn't have, he walked out into the hallway and turned to her. “You will give me that black list, Annaliese. If you don't, the people you love will eat one of my bullets, starting with your husband and ending with your friend the reporter. That's what happens when someone like you cares about people. You put their lives in danger. I'll give you twenty-four hours, and then I'm going to blow your lover's brains out right in front of you.” With an evil glint in his eyes that told her he meant every word, he got onto the elevator and left.

She slammed the door and locked it with trembling hands. It felt as if the air in the suite had dropped to arctic temperatures. Her teeth chattered, and her body shook uncontrollably.

Cold. So cold.

She felt as if she'd never be warm again.

She couldn't call the police. Not unless she wanted to spend the next twenty years behind bars. She couldn't call her friends. Mitch had obviously done his homework on her, as he'd proven when he'd mentioned Rachel.

Sawyer. She needed Sawyer.

She tried dialing, but her fingers were shaking so badly, she kept messing up his number. It took her three tries before she managed to get it right. It rang and rang and rang until she finally got his voice mail. She hung up and tried again, but the phone slipped from her hands onto the carpet.

She left it there.

Stumbling into the bathroom, she flipped on the shower, making it as hot as possible without burning her skin. She waited until the room filled with steam before she removed her clothing, stepped under the spray of the shower, and slid to the tile floor.

It would never end. No matter how much she wanted to forget the past, it refused to let her go. Would there ever come a day when she didn't have to look over her shoulder? When people like Chad Winters wouldn't hire an assassin to kill her? When she wouldn't have her family threatening to take everyone she loved?

Her mind turned to Sawyer. Always Sawyer.

Was it fair to bring him into this kind of life?

What if they had children?

As her body was racked by harsh sobs, she saw them in her mind's eye, a little boy with golden hair and eyes as copper as a penny, holding his daddy's hand, while his sister, a girl with curls, blue eyes, and chubby cheeks, sat on her daddy's shoulders eating cotton candy and laughing at all the carnival's sights.

With Sawyer, she had the opportunity to have a real life with a real family. Could she throw that all away? Allow her life to continue being controlled by fear?

She wasn't sure how long she rocked back and forth under the water. It could've been minutes or hours. Time had no meaning. Not until Sawyer pulled open the shower's glass door and stepped inside, fully clothed.

He crouched down beside her. “Annaliese? Honey? What is it?”

“I can't do this,” she whispered, her throat raspy from crying.

He brushed her hair off her face. “Do what, baby?”

“This. My life as Lisa Smith. All of it. It's not me.”

He turned off the water and helped her to her feet. “I agree. You're not Lisa Smith.” He peeled off his shirt, dropping the soaked garment onto the floor of the shower. “You're Annaliese Hunt. My wife. My submissive.”

Every word was like a dagger to her heart. “You don't understand. I can't be with you right now. Everything is happening too fast.”

“You're running again. Don't do it. Most people don't get a second chance like us. Don't throw it all away.” He grabbed a towel for himself and quickly dried off before hauling her off her feet and carrying her to the bed. “Tell me what's got you scared.”

She waited until they lay side by side. “Mitch was here.”

His eyes widened as he propped himself up on his palm. “Your brother? Did he hurt you?”

“No, not physically.” Sometimes the emotional harm was much worse than the physical. She hoped that Sawyer could repair the damage her brother inflicted. “He didn't admit to being behind the threats and the car, but he has to be.” She paused, searching his face. “He wants the black list.”

“So give it to him,” he said, without hesitation.

She sat up. “Give it to him? Are you crazy?”

His hand settled on the inside of her thigh. “You don't need to protect me anymore. So what does it matter if he takes it?”

“He wants me to go with him, Sawyer. He wants me to leave you. Leave everything behind. He says this isn't who I'm meant to be. What if he's right? What if I wake up one day and decide I've been denying my true nature? That I can't outrun the blood that flows through my veins?”

Sawyer caressed her skin, calming her. “Your blood doesn't define you, and sharing DNA doesn't make your brother your family. Love. Trust. Support. Those are the things that make a family. Just like I have with Oz, Hunter, and Rowan, you have that with your friends. You have it with me. Trust me this time. You are not your mother. You are not your father.” His eyes shone with love for her. “You are Annaliese Hayes. The strongest, most loyal, talented, and loving woman I've ever known. That's who you are. Don't let your brother screw with your head. You've got my love. You've got my trust. You've got my support.” He took her hand and tugged her onto him. “And I'm not going to fucking let you walk out of my life ever again.”

“Make love to me, Sawyer,” she whispered, her fingers brushing the hard planes of his chest. “I need my Master, my husband inside of me right now. I don't want to think. Please, love me.”

He cupped her cheek. “I do. So much. I always have, and I always will.”

His words warmed her even more effectively than the hot shower. “I love you, too. I promise, I won't repeat my mistakes. I'll do it right this time. I promise.” She kissed him, letting her mouth seal her vow. “I promise.”

He bent and took her nipple into his mouth.

She tossed her head back, her hands delving into his hair to hold him hostage against her breast. Every part of her ached and throbbed, her desire so potent she could smell it radiating from her skin. She loved this man so much she couldn't breathe at the thought of losing him.

As she cried his name, he sucked on her, using his tongue and teeth to drive her out of her skin.

It didn't matter how he touched her, whether it was whisper soft or strong and painful. She craved it all. Needed it like she needed oxygen. He was her drug, and she was never going to kick the habit.

“Hurry, Sawyer,” she begged.

He moved over her, his gaze holding hers, before descending to take the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same rough treatment as the other. She melted into the mattress, becoming liquid, boneless, surrendering to his innate dominance. Her nails raked down and up his spine, leaving behind her mark on his skin.

She scissored her legs, the pressure between them growing to a powerful tempest of need. Every worry disappeared, nothing and no one existing in the world except for them and their love.

Arching her back, she managed to roll him over and lie on top of him. She kissed her way down his body, paying special attention to that spot on his collarbone that always drove him crazy.

He moaned, its vibration sending shards of pleasure to her pussy. There was nothing better than pleasing him, and she'd spend the rest of her life proving that to him. She'd make up for lost time, rediscover his body and his preferences, show him how much she loved him.

He linked his hands together under his head, watching her with hooded eyes as she settled between his legs. Pre-come beaded on the head of his cock, the pearly liquid waiting to be devoured.

Wrapping her hand around the base of his shaft, she licked it up, the taste of him better than a glass of her favorite wine. Salt. Musk. Man. It was his passion on her tongue. And she couldn't imagine anything sweeter.

She played with him for a while, enjoying his moans and the tremble in his hand as it skimmed her cheek. She wanted him to burn as bright for her as she did for him. Brighter than the sun.

She took him to the back of her throat, hollowing her cheeks and sliding her tongue along his sensitive underside, savoring the saltiness of his skin. She rolled his balls in her hand, squeezing.

Feeling experimental, she walked her fingers lower, brushing them over his sensitive perineum for a minute before dipping them between his cheeks. He froze momentarily before spreading his legs apart to give her better access. Sliding herself lower, she switched hands, wrapping one around his cock and licking the fingers of the other. Deciding to go easy, she started by sticking the tip of her pinky into him.

When his body relaxed around the invasion, she began to gently thrust it back and forth, pushing it further inside each time until he took the whole finger. Her intention was to massage his prostate while she blew him, but apparently it would have to be another time, because on a groan, Sawyer rolled her under him once again.

“I love it when you play with me, but I need to get my cock inside that pussy of yours,” he said gruffly.

“Yes.”

He reached over to the nightstand and groaned. “Fuck. We're out of condoms.”