Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) (23 page)

The restaurant threw a fit at Marc and Lily's attire, but after Kingsley shoved a couple large bills into the maître d's hand, they were shown to a table.

“This is very nice,” Lily said, running her fingers over the copious amounts of silverware next to her plate.

“Makes my skin crawl,” Marc commented in an overly loud voice, and she burst out laughing. She felt exactly the same way.

“When was the last time you dined anywhere?” Kingsley asked, laying his napkin across his lap.

“You brought home that chicken -” Marc started to answer.

“I said
dine
, not when was the last time you shoved a deep fried carcass into your face and used the bones to pick your teeth.”

It was uncomfortable, doing something so normal, in such a normal setting, but after a while the conversation began to flow. She and Kingsley laughed about her “growing pains” during her first jobs. Marc filled them in on all the exotic places he had gone to, chasing Stankovski's tail.

“How can one man be so difficult to get to?” Lily groaned, poking at what was left of her fancy dessert.

“Karma. We all did something awful in a previous life,” Kingsley suggested. Marc laughed.

“Yeah, to each other – that's why I can't get away from you assholes.”

A waiter came over to check on Lily when she didn't stop laughing for a solid five minutes.

“That was fun,” she sighed, when they finally walked outside. Kingsley was a few steps ahead of them, and he'd stopped in front of a storefront, checking out his hair in the reflection. Lily moved to stand next to him, and Marc joined her.

“Bizarre,” he grumbled.

“I know what you mean,” she replied, running a hand over her head.

“What are you guys on about?” Kingsley asked, glancing down at them.

Lily tilted her head to the side, taking in the reflection. She was wearing dark colored skinny jeans and a cream colored blouse, and she'd pulled her hair up into a sleek ponytail. Marc's t-shirt was clean, and his jeans fit him well. They matched, she realized, and even as she thought it, she felt his hand curl around her own, his fingers linking through hers.

“We look so normal,” Marc explained. Kingsley snorted.

“Matter of opinion, mate. I wouldn't be caught dead in denim.”

The Brit strode off down the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette as he went, but Lily and Marc continued to stare at their reflection.

“You always said I didn't have to be that person,” she pointed out, smoothing her free hand down the front of her top.

“Yeah, but I'm not sure I like this chick, either.”

She whacked him the stomach.

They took off after Kingsley, but kept their pace slow. Marc didn't let go of her hand, and she was glad. She would never be “
normal
” - in twelve hours, she was going to storm a building and she was going to shoot a man in the head, and she
wanted
to do it. That wasn't anywhere close to being normal. She would never be that girl in the reflection. Some lovely young woman on a date with a ruggedly handsome man. What a foreign concept.

But it was fun to pretend, for just a moment.

Marc chewed on the edge of his thumb nail. His eyes bounced in between Kingsley and Lily. Law looked liked he always did, but Lily's outfit was sort of freaking Marc out. He couldn't remember if he'd ever seen her wearing anything that normal. It was like getting a view into an alternate universe, one where Lily had read his letter and agreed with it. One where she'd gone back to Cleveland and gotten that job at the bank. She'd probably be all settled into her new life. Probably living in an apartment, dating some nice young man.

Fuck that.

“Five in the morning,” Kingsley said, and Marc realized that the other man had repeated himself several times.

“Yes.”

“I'm going to take watch for the rest of the night, lock down a security pattern. We got good intel this afternoon, but I want more. You two be there at
five
, sharp. Don't fuck off tonight – make sure you have this shit down. I don't want to see anyone get shot.”

Kingsley made the statement to both of them, but he stared hard at Marc. The meaning wasn't lost on him; Lily's entire left side, from her arm pit to her hip, was covered in a lovely purple bruise. She never complained about it, but she swallowed Tylenol like it was going out of style.

I'm always bruising this woman. How long before she gets scarred?

“Understood,” Marc replied. Lily nodded while she twirled her hair into a messy bun.

“I'm going to get all our gear ready, then I'm going to memorize those blueprints,” she added.

“Good. When you get in range, put on your mic sets. Let me know you're coming, I don't want to shoot you as you come up the ladder,” Kingsley warned them as he passed out throat mics and radios to both of them.

“Got it, boss,” Lily gave him a mock salute. The man was clearly feeling the tension of the upcoming mission, and the gesture made him laugh and relax a bit.

“Watch it. See you soon. Remember, be there at five,” he said, then he leaned down and kissed her on the side of the head before marching towards the door.

“No kiss for me!?” Marc called out.

Kingsley held up his middle finger as he disappeared down the stairs.

It was midnight, so that didn't really leave them much time. They set about laying out their chosen weapons, filling backpacks with water and first aid supplies. Lily had changed back into her sports bra and the tight running shorts that made it hard for Marc to breathe. Every time she bent over, he had to stop what he was doing. How Kingsley had maintained his cool around her for six months, he had no idea.

Who said he maintained the whole time? For all you know, he had his hands on her every chance he could get.

“Stop it.”

Her voice interrupted his thoughts and Marc shook his head.

“What?” he asked, looking back down at the gun he was disassembling.

“You were staring at me. Stop it. Pay attention to what you're doing,” she snapped. He shot her a glare.

“Okay, first of all, I wasn't staring. Second of all, talk to me like that again, and we'll have a serious fucking problem,” he warned her. She rolled her eyes and stood up, dusting her hands off on her butt.

“Ooohhh, so scary. I'm the one who got shot because you couldn't keep your shit together, remember? I just want to make sure you're good,” she told him. Marc sat back in his chair and set down the slide he'd been cleaning.

“Don't worry about me, Lily. Worry about yourself. You shouldn't have been in a position to get shot – even if I hadn't yelled your name, that guy still would've been there.”

She laughed loudly, her voice filling the room for a moment.

“Okay, De Sant, whatever makes you feel better.”

After that, Marc made it a point to not look at her again. He finished cleaning the gun and sat it next to the others he'd prepped. Then he laid his new flak jacket on the table, checked that all the bindings were secure. His backpack was next, and he set about stocking it full of first aide gear, followed by rounds and rounds of ammunition. He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't even notice when Lily sat down in the chair next to him.

“What?” he blurted out when he looked up and caught her staring at him. She smiled and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“Nothing,” she replied. He narrowed his eyes.

“Didn't I just get yelled at for staring at you?”

“Yeah, but I'm allowed to stare at you.”

“Why?”

“Because I never got you shot,” she pointed out. Now it was his turn to burst out laughing.

“Is that a fucking joke!? I seem to recall Ivanov shooting me in the chest, at point blank range!”

“But that wasn't my fault.”

“I was
there
because of you.”

“I never asked you to be there.”

“Lily.”

“Yes?”

“Why the fuck are you trying to pick a fight with me?” Marc demanded, finally catching on to her little game. Her smile got bigger.

“Because it's so fun,” she teased.

“Fuck off.”

“Because this tension is killing me. I feel like if I don't do something, I might explode,” she was finally honest. Marc sighed.

“Yeah, I know the feeling, sweetheart, but could you find a different way to release some tension? I'm having a hard enough time concentrating while you're running around half naked, I don't need -”

Lily suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. He was stunned into silence when her mouth slammed down on his own. Lily was no wilting flower, she was as aggressive in bed as she was out of it, but it was still a little surprising. Apparently, the tension had become too much.

Who am I to stop a woman from letting off a little steam?

Marc grabbed the leg of her chair and jerked it forward, dragging her into his space. She didn't waste time and slid forward, moving so she was straddling him and sitting on his lap. He gripped a fistful of her hair and yanked back, forcing her to break the kiss. Then he licked a trail from just under her ear to the edge of her bra strap.

“
This,
” she sighed. “This is what I need.”

“We've got a lot of shit to do, you sure you want to do this? I thought you wanted me to be prepared? To make sure I'm good?” he taunted her, blowing cool air over the path his tongue had taken.

“I would love to see how good you are right now,” she groaned.

“Hmmm, not sure that's good enough. Kingsley would be so disappointed if he knew we'd wasted time by -”

“If
you
waste anymore time, I'm gonna go relieve some of this stress with
him
.”

Marc didn't need to be told twice. He shoved her off him and yanked at her shorts. While she worked them down her legs, he pulled apart his belt and shoved his own pants down. His dick stood erect between them; she'd always had that effect on him, it never took him anytime to get hard when he was around her. As she moved back onto his lap, she grabbed him by the base, giving him long, slow, strokes that threatened to drive him insane.

“Your hands … I can't …,” he groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. He grabbed onto her hips and clenched his fingers.

“You're always so good with your hands. I figured I should return the favor,” she breathed in his ear as her hand picked up speed.

If he didn't do something, the only person exploding would be Marc, and as enjoyable as that would be, he didn't like to leave a lady hanging. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms up, coiling them around his neck. When she went to slide forward, trying to get closer to him, he worked his hand between their body so she slid right onto his fingers.

“Goddamn, Lily,” he growled when he felt how wet she was. “You've been wanting this for a while.”

“Are you kidding? Since dinner,” she started panting as he worked his fingers inside of her. “Since this morning. All the time, whenever I'm with you.”

“Mmm, good to know,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss along the top of her shoulder. When he got to her clavicle, he looked down between their bodies. Watched as she writhed around on top of his hand. It was almost like he was holding her in place with his fingers, like if he let go, she would rocket out of her seat.

She was still wearing her sports bra, so with his free hand he yanked at the material, pulling it underneath her breasts. The tension in the material forced them to stand up at attention, like they were ready and waiting for his mouth. He complied, licking a circle around one nipple before biting down on it. She shrieked and her pussy clamped down on his fingers.

“Enough,” she gasped. “Enough. Just fuck me.”

“But I'm having so much fun.”

“
Marcelle.
”

He'd always loved the way his name sounded on her lips. She pulled away from his fingers and he held onto his cock, holding himself in position for her. He looked up at her face, watching as she slid down on top of him, loving the way she watched them the whole time. Loved the blush that stained her cheeks, even through her tan, and loved how her eyes rolled back when she was finally sitting fully on top of him.

Love a lot of things about this woman.

She started moving right away, thrusting her hips against his, one of her hands hooking onto his shoulder. He held onto her hips, working them faster, forcing her harder against him.

“If we're running a race, sweetheart, I have to warn you – I hate to lose,” he chuckled. She moved her free hand behind her and he felt it against his thigh, pushing down on him. Using him as leverage so she could move even faster.

“I don't care,” she breathed, and a shudder ripped through her body. “I'm so close, Marc. So close.”

“I know, I can
feel
you,
Liliana,
” he whispered close to her ear, and he moved his hand back between them. Twitched his fingers between thrusts, played against her as she moved.

“
Oh my god!
” she cried out.

Making a woman come was always an achievement, Marc felt. Something to be proud of. Making Lily come was on a different level. She was always so strong, always trying to prove how tough she was, but for a brief moment, he got to see her vulnerable. Got to hear her beg and plead, got to watch as she let go of every single worry and care while she screamed out his name.

It was the only time he ever truly saw her relax. When she was coming down from the high, when the afterglow was taking her over. When her kisses grew soft and warm, and her muscles would lose some of their tension. Truly an amazing sight.

But Marc was also a mercenary – a man used to going after what he wanted, with little care to anyone else's feelings on the matter. So he didn't think twice about standing up and dropping her on the edge of the table before fucking her as hard as possible, till he was coming, as well.

And the best part? He knew she loved it just as much.

“Thank you,” she panted after he'd collapsed on top of her. “Thank you for that.”

“Never thank me for good sex, sweetheart,” he chuckled, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I just … I kept thinking, what if this is it? What if tonight is our last night?” she whispered. He frowned and turned his head, burying his face in her hair.

“It's not,” he assured her.

“You don't know that.”

“No. But I believe in you. I believe in
us
. We'll get through this.”

“Thank you, Marc.”

“You're very welcome, Lily.”