Out of Plans (The Mercenaries #2) Read Online Free

refusing to look down even as he felt fresh blood begin to run down his front.
    “This charade does grow tiring. I have to leave the country tomorrow. If I can't get anything useful out of you, then we're done. I'll have them cut you into five pieces and we'll bury you around the border,” she told him.
    Marc went still. Not at the threat, but at her slip. She was leaving the country – why? As far as he knew, she was running the whole operation there in the Kiev. They couldn't possibly be done working, done moving all the stolen women. If she was pulling out, it could only be because Stankovski himself had called for her.
    “Bummer. I was really beginning to enjoy our time together,” he sighed. She cocked up an eyebrow, then began to slowly approach him.
    “Really? For some reason, I find that very hard to believe. I have been having fun, but you? You will bear some of these marks forever,” she dropped her whip while she talked, and once she reached him, she pulled a knife from behind her back. The small weapon shined in the lamp light, menacing even for its tiny size. He knew what that blade could do.
    “Sweetheart, you haven't even begun to have a fun time. What could be better than playing with me?” he asked, smiling wide. For a big, scary guy, Marc knew he could pull off charming well. She wasn't immune to him – Roksana's esteem was shaky at best, she fed off attention.
    “Very little,” she agreed, tracing a finger through the blood that was smeared across his chest and abs.
    “If you're not going far, then maybe you could come back, we could pick up where we left off,” he suggested. She laughed loudly.
    “Colombia is about as far away as I can get from this god awful place. No, I will not be coming back. We end here.”
    “Baby, we never got a chance to get started.”
    He ran his teeth over his bottom lip and she stared for a long moment. Then she moved closer, hiking her skirt up past her thighs so she could straddle his lap. She dug the tip of her knife into his shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to keep him tense.
    “You've never once accepted any of my offers, De Sant. Years we have known each other. Much greater men than you have fallen at my feet, but you always resisted. Why are you so willing now? I don't like being toyed with,” she informed him, and the blade finally cut through his skin. He winced.
    “I was an employee before; a hired hand. I'm not gonna fuck the boss' wife when I'm trying to get paid. You think I didn't want to? Please, I used to dream about you,” Marc assured her. “But I'm pretty sure your husband is never going to hire me again. Also, you're never letting me get out of here alive. What a send off. One last ride.”
    She stared at him. Roksana was a bright woman, but she wasn't exactly intelligent. She was easy to manipulate, easy to set off. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at him, her pupils dilated. She was breathing heavily through her nose. The knife pushed harder against him for a moment, then she dropped it before sitting down, pressing her mouth to his.
    She tasted like cigarettes and stale wine, her tongue aggressive against his own, but Marc didn't care. He kissed her back like it was something he'd been planning for years. Like she was someone he'd been long fantasizing about kissing.
    Like she's someone with red hair and green eyes.
    She writhed on top of him, grinding her hips down while her fingernails raked across his scalp. He was still tied to the chair, so he just leaned into her as much as he could, pulling his lips away from hers so he could work them down her neck.
    “God, you're incredible,” he groaned, pulling at her shirt with his teeth. She leaned away and yanked the blouse off, then grabbed his head and shoved it into her cleavage.
    “Why did you tease me for so many years!? We could have done this long ago, then you wouldn't have to die,” she told him, pulling her skirt up even higher so it was above her