The End of Games (The Single Lady Spy 2)

My nerves were shot as each number changed. I almost jumped him as we got halfway up the building, but I reminded myself he had conned me, using Steve and was friends with James. He was a bad man, even my va**na was shaking her damned head. The tension in the elevator was intense.

Finally, we got to his floor. He dragged me off and down to the single door on the floor. He produced a key card, swiped and opened the door fluidly. I was swept inside as he closed the door and dragged me to the sitting room. He pointed at the view, "Lovely, isn’t it?"

I nodded slowly, unsure of what we were doing. He walked past me to the kitchen. The suite was insane, as they always were with him. He brought me an icy flute of champagne and took my hand in his, "There is something I want to show you. There is a reason this is my favorite hotel."

He pulled me into the next room where there was a full living room. It was huge—billiards table, couches, massive TV's, and a bar.

He drank back his champagne and dropped to his knee, pushing me against the billiards table.

He lifted my dress, pulling my panties to the side and licked my slit. I gasped, startled and unsure of what to do. I leaned back on the billiards table, clutching the flute as he slid a massive finger inside of me. He sucked and stroked my cl*t with his tongue, swirling it and pumping his finger in and out of me. I made the weird sound only he ever made me make. My mouth hung open, my flute dropped to the floor below, smashing, and my legs nearly buckled as I orgasmed in waves all over his tongue and finger.

Abruptly, he stood and flipped me on my belly. He pulled my ass back, positioning it. I heard his buckle and his pants drop. Then I heard a foil packet—a condom? That was new. There was no warning as his erection slid between my lips, plunging into me. I cried out as he bent over my body, "As I recall, Evie, you do like to be f**ked on billiards tables."

Pain was everywhere as he ripped the wig from my head, "I have a deep dislike for blondes, Evie. You should know this."

I winced as a single tear slid down my cheek to the felt.

I moaned into the felt as he shortened his strides, rubbing the head of his c*ck back and forth on my G-spot. He grabbed my ponytail, pulling it out and grabbed a fistful of my hair, right at the good spot. He pulled my head back, making me clench down on him, squeezing to make contact even more. He grunted and pushed my face into the scratchy felt as he thrust all the way in, driving his dominance over me home. He pumped several times before finishing. I was still waiting for my orgasm when I realized he was done. With the condom on, I didn’t realize until he was slumped over me.

He started to laugh, "Goddamned, I missed you."

I shook my head, "I didn’t miss you."

It was a lie, but I left it out there anyway as I breathed into the felt and tried to gain some kind of idea on what was happening.

He got off of me, letting me get a full breath. I walked awkwardly to the couch, trying to adjust all of my clothing. I sat, still stunned and confused. He was dressed and playing with his phone, ignoring me or the fact we were both in a heap of trouble.

I glanced at the wig on the floor as I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the subtle bumps on my cheeks from my felt burn.

"Tell me why you are here!"

I swallowed hard and told him the story. He listened but seemed to be getting increasingly angrier. He dialed a number and paced, ranting on the phone. "It's me, what's happening? Where is Steve?"

"What does that even mean, Franklin?" He sounded fierce, the kind of fierce I would never want directed at me. "Well, you misunderstood my meaning and went with it anyway. Steve has gone rogue. Find him and gut him like a fish."

He slammed the phone onto the bureau and looked at me with the same severity he had just been giving Franklin, whoever that was. "Explain it to me again, every word can have a meaning."

I shook my head, "He told me that you had both been in Venice where you were jumped, and he was beaten while you were taken. He woke to the note from James with a stamp from this hotel on the back of it. It is James' handwriting. I would know it anywhere."

"And this is after your home was burned to the ground, you were nearly murdered, and then went to basic training? You left your children to go to basic for three weeks? Evie, I am finding this all very hard to believe."

I nodded, "Me too."

"Where are the children and your mother?"

My eyes lifted, "Weren't you tracking me with those shoes?"

His face flinched, "What shoes?"

Shit. "So you never asked Steve to come to my house? You never asked him to leave me a note?"

He shook his head, "I sent you a postcard. Why would I come to your house and risk you like that?"

My heart hurt a lot. Not a little—a lot. "So it wasn’t the best week of your life? The X and O kisses of course were not you. How could I be so dumb?" He looked like I was insane. I sighed, "Fuck. Steve put the tracker in a pair of shoes and left them at my house? So you don’t know where my family is?"

He shook his head, "I don’t, but I’m assuming Steve does. This is very bad."

I was having a hard time fearing Steve. I shook my head, "Maybe, maybe not. What I do know is, I would die a thousand deaths before telling you where they are." Steve knew where my children were. If he was bad, it meant he was there in my town with my mother and my children. I had to get word to her.

He tossed me his phone, "Call your mother and warn her about Steve. If he found you, James will too."

I looked at his phone like it was covered in the Ebola virus. He sighed and sat across from me on the couch, "I just don’t understand what the objective was, coming here and risking yourselves to find me? You really came all this way to find me? To save me?" He was mocking me.

I didn’t blame him. Flying to Europe to save an arms dealer from my ex-husband sounded almost worthy of a James Bond novel.

"I came for James."

He raised his eyebrows, "Go get him."

I shook my head, ignoring the fact my feelings were a little hurt that he wanted me to leave. "You owe me answers first."

His eyes narrowed, "I don’t owe you anything, Evie." I loved the way he said Evie with his accent.

I nodded my head, smiling at him, "You do. Why the f**k didn’t you kill James? Why did you stop me from killing him?"

He looked off to the side, "That mouth of yours has gotten worse. Boot camp didn’t do you any favors. Let's go have a shower. I want you again and I have no interest in the blue eyes or dark makeup. I like ponytail Evie better."

I pulled my legs in, hugging them to me, "Answer my question first."

He flashed his eyes at me, "He was my way back in, Evie. I knew you and I would never work. The spy and the arms dealer is a story for the romance novels, not real life. Stop being so melodramatic and naïve. My protection in the world is being the big bad wolf. The people James works for, fear me. Saving James ensured they know I am loyal to the cause of destroying the Burrow."

I covered my face, "Then why the f**k did you drag me into all of this?"

He shook his head, "I didn’t. I saved you. The Burrow will protect you. You look innocent to the people who matter."

Exasperated, I point in a random direction, "Then who the f**k tried to burn my house down."

He pointed at me, "I won't tell you again, stop shouting and stop swearing. Be a lady."

I got up and stalked off, "Fuck you, Servario."

I heard his angry footsteps behind me, but I didn’t care. I walked to the shower and started taking my clothes off, "Let's get this over with. If you aren’t going to help me, then I'm leaving after the shower."

He started to laugh, "I paid for the night, I get the night."

I slid my finger into my eye, sliding the contact out. He grimaced, "Dear God, why? Don’t do that. Why do you always have to let me see ALL the things you do? Why can't there be a little mystery with you, Evie? You pass gas, burp, eat too fast and lick your fingers. You take all the covers and then kick them off and I'm freezing. You are like, like a… like a… like a wife."

I did the other eye, holding back my laughter. "What—this doesn’t turn you on? Think of me as the girl who saved you from ever settling down. We both know you would cheat on her and end up divorced. What would happen to your evil empire then? You'd have it split up in bad-guy court."

His face was epic. He was angry and I knew the sex we were about to have was going to be all about him. Nothing like getting f**ked by an annoyed sex addict.

Chapter Eight

Yeah, eh

His body was wrapped around mine, intensely. I wondered if I could ‘coyote ugly’ and sneak from the bed; I only really needed my trigger hand. I looked down at the covers, smiling. I had taken them all and kicked them off in the night. He was probably huddling to me for warmth.

Poor arms dealer.

I lifted his hand and slid from under him with a great amount of effort. He moaned as I lay the covers on him again and tiptoed from the room. All I had was the dress that looked like Monica Lewinski had borrowed it, so I grabbed one of his pairs of boxers and a dress shirt from the master suite. Luckily it was empty because I had forced him to sleep in the smaller room. He had agreed all too easily. I could imagine the horrors that had gone on in the master suite. He had used a condom all three times we had done it, that was a bad sign.

I pulled on my blonde wig and smoothed it against my head.

The suite was empty, no bodyguards or random people in there. He was alone. That was weird too. He was probably getting more paranoid after the whole Roxy thing.

I walked over to the mirror in the hallway and drew with the lipstick in my clutch, Russian Red of course.

"Fuck you, Servario!"

I added a heart at the end and smiled. The humor wouldn’t be lost on him but maybe wasted.

I snatched his phone and walked out the front door. It felt ballsy and ridiculous to be leaving that class of a hotel in his underwear and dress shirt, but I didn’t care. I looked like a whore either way. Of course, the water bra was where it belonged, in the trash. So I was back to being a regular-sized whore.