Double Deep Dark Desires Read online

  “Please let me go,” she whispered.

  “We will,” Mills said, “we’ll get you out of this mess.”

  “Tell your family you’re going on vacation or something.”

  “I don’t have a family.”

  The men looked at each other.

  That’s right. Life was shit, and just when she thought she found her break this happened.

  “Well, that makes two of us.”

  She looked at Beast, he was telling the truth. He knew how hard this was for her, and, stupid as it sounded, she found a bit of comfort in that.

  “There’s no other way,” Mills said and began standing up.

  She’d grown used to him. The warmth of his arms around her.

  What am I going to do?

  She wasn’t fast, if she tried running they would catch her easily.

  And if what they were saying was true, that the man was really Roberto Caronte, the “businessman” who everyone in the city knew was a crime boss, they wouldn’t even need to come after her. She knew he would find her.

  Not that she had many places to hide, anyway.

  She stood up beside Mills, at the end of the counter, trying not to look at the other end of the room.

  But she couldn’t not look. It was a primeval instinct. Or maybe deep down she was a monster, who knows.

  “Come,” Beast said, offering his hand.

  She took it. It was easily twice the size of her own, rugged and warm and welcoming.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  When he turned to the exit, she saw the white handle of a gun in his belt. It should have frightened her, being around men who made a living like this.

  It should have made her want to run away the second they were outside.

  Two killers, ready to take out a weapon and use it to end another man’s life, ready to die at any moment.

  It should have made her sick.

  But instead, it turned her on.

  Chapter 7

  Mills

  The drive back to their house was in complete silence. Mills tried to think of something to say, but nothing came up.

  This was a bad idea. Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?

  He never for a moment considered harming her. When the boss gave the order to kill Jena, he saw a brief flash of anger rushing through Beast’s eyes, so he did what he had to.

  He told the old man okay, done deal, no problem. He was not going to risk it. His friend was about to lose it.

  What’s happening to me?

  What was it about that woman that made him risk his life for her? She was practically a stranger.

  I don’t care.

  He could get any woman he wanted.

  But it wouldn’t be her.

  Her sobs almost broke him down. When he held her in his arms, it felt like everything would be okay. She was all right. She wasn’t harmed.

  Fucking hell.

  He knew it now, something that never crossed his mind until that moment.

  He would take on Roberto Caronte and his whole organization if he had to. He would do it to save this girl’s life.

  Jena.

  Her tears dampened his shoulder and he knew there was no turning back.

  “It’s here,” he said, turning into the driveway of an old house at the edge of the city. It had an overgrown garden up front, it just needed a white picket fence to be the all American house.

  It needs some repairs, but still…

  There was nothing in the second floor but a few pieces of old furniture covered in white blankets and cold walls. Not everything was shit, though, he and Beast managed to get the heater to work.

  “A safe house?” Jena asked.

  Mills looked at Beast for a second. Was it a safe house? Beast shrugged and flipped a switch as they entered the dwelling.

  The whole place was five thousand square feet, three rooms on the first floor, four upstairs, three and a half bathrooms.

  Is this what a safe house looks like?

  Mills opened a faucet, water poured out. Good.

  “Downstairs,” Beast said and everyone followed.

  That was a better idea. She could hide in the basement without calling attention to herself.

  Jena was silent, staring into the darkness.

  Mills pulled a chain and a lonely lightbulb came alive.

  “I guess you could call it that, for now, a safe house.”

  “What do you mean?” She said, walking behind him, Beast briefly placed his hand on her back to guide her forward.

  “We bought it as an investment,” he said, his deep voice echoing in the dark.

  “We wanted to flip it.”

  “Then we’d buy a bigger one, rinse and repeat.”

  “We were trying to get out of the business.”

  He meant the killing business, he didn’t want to say it like that, though. She understood.

  “Make a living the right way,” Beast continued, “that was the plan.”

  “Yeah, that was the plan, two years ago.”

  Mills let out an empty laugh. It sounded so fucking ridiculous now.

  “What happened?” Jena asked.

  “Work got in the way,” Beast replied.

  “Turns out, the deeper in shit you are, the harder it is to come out of it.”

  It was a joke, but only Beast got it. Jena wasn’t amused.

  “But yes, it’s a safe house, if you wanna call it that way.”

  “No one knows we own this,” Beast said, “it’s not like you can just quit the mafia.”

  “It’ll work for now.”

  “If I don’t freeze to death first.”

  She was right. The whole basement felt even colder than outside.

  “Oh, yes, let me…” Beast didn’t finish his sentence, just walked away into the darkness.

  Maybe things would be all right, for once.

  No. We’re just living on borrowed time.

  He got to meet her. That was good enough for him. Maybe he would be able to save her. He just needed to find a way to cover all this up.

  But first things first. Get her comfortable here.

  Chapter 8

  Jena

  What could she do? There was no choice but to stay here. These two men would protect her, she was sure of it.

  Just wait until everything dies down, then you’ll be free.

  These two men were risking their lives for her, she should have been grateful.

  But looking into the dark room, standing beneath a dim, yellow light, she wasn’t sure she had made the right choice.

  She was shaking, her jacket was not good enough to protect her from this cold. The walls might as well have been made of ice. Her jaw was locked into place, she tried to open her mouth, but doing so required much more willpower than she had left.

  The cold didn’t seem to faze Mills at all. He had his hands in his pocket, looking at the other edge of the giant basement.

  “Are you okay?” He asked.

  She nodded.

  “Oh damn, you’re freezing.”

  He opened his coat and spread his arms; she embraced him instinctively. She needed something, anything, to get herself warm.

  And this was much better than she expected.

  Stop it.

  She’d just had a traumatic experience. Was this how normal people reacted?

  Mills arms were thick and strong, his torso hard as steel. The warmth of his body really did help, but there was something else.

  She could actually feel the ridges of his muscles on him, a freaking sixpack pressing against her.

  A noise cracked in the distance. She turned to see what it was and could make out Beast’s outline walking towards them.

  Behind him, an old furnace glowed dimly. His steps echoed in the dark, getting louder and louder until she stepped away from Mills.

  For some reason, she didn’t want Beast to think badly of her.

  “Here’s some fuses I found,” Beast grunted, looking a
t them, “you want to fix the lights?”

  “Sure,” Mills said, snatching them from his hand and going upstairs.

  “This isn’t as bad as it may seem,” Beast said and took her hand, “come.”

  She followed him into the dark, her eyes took a bit to adjust, but the glowing heater helped her recognize some objects.

  “We wanted to make this place a kind of guest’s room, see?”

  He pointed to a queen-size bed on the corner, an old lamp sat on a bedside table right next to it.

  “I thought you wanted to fix the place.”

  “We still want to, but we brought some things down here to show potential buyers what they could do with spaces like this.”

  The heater was working fairly well, she was no longer about to die of hypothermia.

  She looked at Beast, he towered beside her at least two or three heads taller. His square jaw and cute stubble made him look like a superhero, and at the same time, the heater’s glow reflected in his eyes made him look like a villain.

  He had that incredibly-hot-slash-dangerous look that pulled her to him. She knew she had to stay away, and she would have, if his touch wasn’t so tender.

  He held her hand tenderly, as if she was made of delicate glass and he was afraid she might break.

  The lights went on, suddenly blinding her.

  Jena released Beast’s hands to cover her eyes, realizing she’d gotten used to his touch.

  When she opened them, the basement was in twilight. Much better lit, yes, but still not actually bright.

  “We need to change the light bulbs,” Beast said.

  “More like the whole electric installation down here,” Mills replied, coming into the basement again, “this wasn’t built as a living space, after all.”

  He was right. Only four bulbs lit a basement, oh God, this is bigger than I thought.

  The two thousand square feet basement was almost completely deserted, with the exception of a couch in a corner of the room, the bed and bed table, and on the other corner of the room, near the entrance—

  “Is that a showerhead?”

  Both men looked to where she pointed.

  “Yes,” Mills said, “damn, I forgot about that.”

  The half finished shower had no walls, just a big showerhead pointing down at a five-by-five tile floor with a drain at the center.

  “We have hot water, too,” Beast said.

  “I know it’s not much but—”

  “Man,” she blurted out, “this place is better than my apartment.”

  Both guys looked at her and started laughing. She’d seen them smile back in the coffee shop, but this was entirely different.

  Tension suddenly dissipated, they didn’t look worried anymore, nor stared at her as if she was lost and needed to be found.

  “Things will be all right,” she said, unconsciously, setting her eyes in the furnace, “just tell me that.”

  Mills and Beast held her hands.

  “Just give it some time,” Mills said, “things will get better.”

  She took a deep breath, absorbing what he just said. Their touch was soft and caring. She liked it. Jena, get a hold of yourself.

  It was easier said than done. She looked down, trying to think of something else, and her eyes fell on Mills groin.

  Oh God.

  His cock pressed hard against his dress pants, down on his left leg. It was thick and long and fucking hard.

  That should have scared her, but it didn’t. She bit her lip, and briefly looked at Beast: he was the same, only even bigger than his friend.

  Jena pretended not to see them. She should have ran right then. Why did she feel like this? Was it the adrenaline? She couldn’t blame them. She was so wet her underwear was already damp with her juices.

  Maybe she was secretly a pervert.

  Maybe the sudden brush with death made her act like this.

  Yes, that’s what it is. It has to be.

  But deep down she knew she wanted them to take her from the very moment she saw them.

  She swallowed and pretended to relax in that quiet moment, trying to push away the urges in her body.

  “We’ll sleep in the sofa,” Beast said, “don’t be afraid.”

  But she wasn’t afraid of them

  She was scared of herself.

  Chapter 9

  Jena

  The room was much warmer now, and after dusting the sofa and the bed, and covering them with a pair of blankets Mills brought from a closet upstairs, Jena was ready to fall asleep.

  The guys had taken off their coats. Mills wore a tight, gray sweater; Beast a blazer and a dress shirt. Their muscles pressed against the fabric of their clothes, she couldsee them easily, almost like super heroes in a movie.

  Beast grabbed the sofa and brought it over his head, walking toward her as if it weighted nothing, setting it down in front of the bed.

  “It’s warmer here,” he said with a wink.

  “Are you comfortable?” Mills asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied, taking off her shoes as she lay on the bed.

  There was no blanket, nothing to cover herself with, but it was fine, she didn’t expect much, anyway, not in a place like this.

  The men sat on the sofa, taking off their last pieces of clothing.

  They aren’t undressing, they’re just taking off their shoes and sweaters and undoing their pants—

  Wait.

  Were they really going to take off their—

  “Are you okay?” Asked Mills, pulling his zipper down.

  She didn’t immediately reply, just looked at him. It gave him enough time to realize what he was doing. He let a big laugh out.

  “I’m not taking my pants off, don’t worry, just getting more comfortable.”

  Phew. She could finally breathe. She knew she was safe with them but seeing them naked was a bit more than she needed right now.

  Control yourself, Jena.

  Beast took his blazer and shirt off, his chest tight beneath his tank top. Then he stared at her.

  “This is fine, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “You look cold.”

  She bit her lip, “just a bit, it’s getting warmer anyway.”

  She was getting warmer, just by looking at them. Beast looked like he could have worked in the fashion industry if he wanted to. He was ripped as hell, his arms hard, his biceps thick; his back wide like a linebacker, everything about him screamed masculinity.

  He still had the look of a rugged hired gun. Young, with a faint stubble on his square jaw.

  Mills looked more like a soccer player, every muscle in his body deliciously perfect. His blonde hair longer than Beast’s. They were so different from each other she couldn’t help but wonder how they became friends.

  Beast stood up and set his long coat over her

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  His dark, masculine cologne reached her. It was faint but certainly there.

  “I hope this helps,” he said.

  It did. It was incredibly warm. Having Beast so close brought images to her head she shouldn’t be having.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, barely able to speak.

  “Is that better?”

  “Yes.”

  The feeling of his hands on her body, even if for the briefest of moments, was enough to set her body on fire.

  Looking away was the only thing she could do, the warm hands of that huge, muscular man grazed her skin, bringing goosebumps all over. He didn’t see that, luckily.

  Mills, sat on the couch, staring at her and his friend with a smile on his face. His eyes narrowed, as if enjoying the view, watching Jena suffer like this.

  They don’t know how you feel. They probably think you’re about to break down because of everything that happened.

  Beast stood beside the bed, the ridges of his abs visible beneath his tank top. She could reach out and touch them if she only dared to.

  The whole evening h
ad been like this. Her body reacting to the presence of these… these strangers so badly. She knew this feeling was wrong.

  But she couldn’t fool herself. It was real, and they felt the same way. She saw it just an hour or so ago, when they held hands.

  Mills took his sweater off, too, his eyes never leaving her. She had to look away, she couldn’t be so obvious.

  “Take my coat, too,” he said.

  “It’s fine—”

  “You’re in a fetal position, Jena.”

  Her name coming out of his lips, it made her tremble.

  She never thought she’d meet two hired killers— Gangsters, that’s what they are.

  Mills set his coat on her legs and now she was done. Desire flooded her. Why? Two hard men taking care of her needs, making sure she was warm.

  The air felt so different now.

  You’re hallucinating.

  No, she couldn’t deny it.

  “You’re safe with us,” Beast whispered, his eyes never leaving her, “take off your bra.”

  It was like an order, she took a moment to reply.

  “What?”

  “You’re not going to sleep with it on, right? Don’t worry, we won’t look.”

  She was trembling. She could say no, and that would be it, but he was right, she didn’t take anything off but her shoes.

  She reached back to undo her bra, moving like a snail beneath their coats, trying to remain hidden under them.

  There.

  Her breasts were finally free, she would have let out a big sigh but she had to control herself, she couldn’t be so obvious.

  Now, she had to find a way to remove it without taking off her sweater.

  “Do you need help?” Mills asked, amused by all her maneuvering beneath his coat.

  “I’m fine,” she said bluntly, still working the strap, but it was useless, she couldn’t do it alone.

  Damn.

  What was she going to do now? Sleep like that? Okay, yes, she could do that.

  “Take it off,” said Beast, his eyes never leaving her, “your sweater, then your bra.”

  She wanted to. She wanted them to see her.

  “You have to look away,” Jena whispered.

  “Do we?” said Mills.

  Goosebumps rose all over her skin. They wanted her. Their words felt like an order.

  “You can look away from us, if it makes you feel better,” he continued.