Duncan had been sitting at the bar for a while, waiting to be noticed. Not by just any man – plenty of those had tried to strike up conversations with her already. She’d shut them down with her patented narrowed eyes and cold smile. She was waiting on one man in particular. The owner and bartender, who on this Saturday night was particularly busy. Miles Matheson.
She needed a favor from him. She hadn’t seen him in years, but she was hoping, perhaps stupidly, that their shared history would overcome that. Sipping the drink that the other bartender had poured her, she eyed Miles speculatively. We’ll see, she thought.
It had been two or three years since Miles had left the Republic, she’d lost count. Though at the time, she’d thought the date would be burned into her brain. Sebastian’s reaction to Miles leaving had been… unpleasant. He’d raged and punished for weeks, and dozens of probably-innocent people had lost their lives to his wrath. Duncan felt a little bad, in retrospect, that she’d hadn’t been able to stop it. But truthfully, she’d felt lucky to get out alive herself.
Sebastian had never been the same, after that. As the years passed, time saw him get more and more unhinged. More and more dangerous, even to his allies, even to those whom he used to trust. Even to her. One night, he’d held a knife to her throat and accused her of plotting against him. Normally, Duncan was pretty much okay with the rough stuff Sebastian preferred sometimes. But this was different. This wasn’t sexual. This wasn’t a power trip. This was paranoia fueled by alcohol and something that made Duncan very scared.
So she’d left, in the middle of the night, just as Miles had before. Knowing that this would probably send Sebastian even further over the edge. And she had no money, no contacts, and no idea where to go.
As Duncan had made her way west, away from Philadelphia, her plan came together. She’d go to New Vegas. It was about as far from the Monroe Republic as one could go without getting into the fucked up mess that was California, so that was a plus. And it was just lawless enough that no one would bother to find out who exactly she was, or care. She could start over.
Duncan nursed her drink a while longer, admiring the work Miles had done in building up his bar. The building was gorgeous. Not necessarily a place to hide out, but Chicago was a pretty big city these days. And while plenty of people knew the name Miles Matheson, far fewer knew his face. It had taken Duncan a long time to track him down.
Finally, there was a lull in the action, and Miles rested against the bar, drinking in the scene. His eyes swept around the room and landed on Duncan. He gaped in disbelief, then sprang into action as if he’d been burned, striding over to her quickly.
“Is Bass waiting outside with a firing squad?” was how he greeted her.
Duncan smiled sweetly. “Hello, Miles. It’s been a long time.”
“Are you here alone?” he asked urgently, looking behind her and side to side. Duncan could tell he was fighting to keep his cool.
Duncan smirked. “Do you really think if Sebastian was here, he’d send me in to tip you off?”
“I don’t know what the hell Bass would do these days,” Miles said, but Duncan could see his body loosen with relief. “So why are you here?”
She decided to stop playing coy. Miles had some appreciation for witty banter, but he was also a fan of getting to the fucking point. Leaning forward on the bar, conscious of her arms pushing her breasts together, Duncan said, “I need money.”
Miles blew out an impatient breath through his nose and looked off into the distance over her head. “How much.”
“Enough to hire a dozen or so mercs.”
That got his attention. He stared at her for a few seconds, then, seeing she was serious, burst into laughter that was borderline-mean. “I’m sorry, what?”
Duncan fixed him with her most intimidating glare, not joining in his humor at all. “I am going. To put together. A fucking group of mercs. Recruit ‘em. Train ‘em. Hire ‘em out for pay.” She took a swig of her drink for emphasis. “Will you help me?”
“Oh, sure,” Miles said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “And where are you going to do this? Cause if Bass isn’t with you, my guess is he’s looking for you.”
“Which is why I’m not telling you where I’m going. But I know where to find you now. And I’ll pay you back, with interest. I just need enough to get started.”
Miles narrowed his eyes. “I’m not big on giving loans to people who are planning to skip town in the morning,” he said.
Duncan paused, considering her strategy. “I can make it worth your while,” she said, finally, her voice husky, biting her lip. “Very worth it.”
Miles looked offended. “If I want to pay for sex, I can get it for a lot less than what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t look at it as paying for sex,” Duncan said with her most charming smile. “Look at it as mixing business with pleasure.” Looking up at him from under her lashes, she delivered her final blow. “I know you’ve thought about it.”
A spark of interest lit in Miles’ eyes. Duncan gloated internally at having her hunch confirmed. Sebastian and Miles were like brothers, which meant they competed over everything. What one had, the other wanted. She’d figured that she herself was no exception.
Glancing around at the packed-full bar, Miles said, “Gonna be a late night for me here.”
“I can wait up,” Duncan said. “I’m down the road at the Candlelight. Room fifteen.” Tossing back the remainder of her whiskey, she stood up. “Hope I’ll see you later.” She could feel Miles’ gaze hot on her back as she sauntered out of the bar.
* * *
Several hours later, Duncan was lying in her bed at the hotel, drifting somewhere between waking and sleeping. She heard a soft knock at the door and instinctively called out, “I have a gun!”
“So do I,” Miles said. “Wanna let me in?”
Duncan opened the door and her breath caught at the sight of Miles Matheson on the other side. Without the bar between them, she was reminded of just how tall and imposing he was. She drew herself up to her full height and still barely came halfway up his chest. “I’m glad you came,” she said with a smile, stepping aside so he could enter.
Miles eyed her appraisingly. “Yeah? What if I told you I’m not here to give you money?”
Her twinge of disappointment about the money was overshadowed by her rising interest as Miles shrugged off his jacket and holster, leaving him in just a thin cotton shirt. If Duncan had suspected Miles wanted her back in Philadelphia, the feeling had definitely been mutual. Fucking the president of the Republic was damn fun, but the militia’s most ruthless general had his own appeal, too.
“Still glad,” she concluded, looking up at him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“Good,” Miles said, pulling her into his arms. Without preamble, he kissed her aggressively. Duncan pushed up on her toes to reach and wound her arms around his neck. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, exactly as she’d imagined. This was so fucking happening.
Impatiently, Duncan rubbed her body against Miles’. She could feel him starting to get hard. But instead of pulling her closer, he backed off and looked down at her with a frown.
“Bass… he ever get rough with you?” Miles asked.
“Sometimes,” Duncan replied evenly.
Looking somewhat wary, Miles asked, “You like that shit?”
The answer wasn’t exactly ‘no,’ but… “I don’t need it.”
Humming in approval, Miles ran his hands over her body. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing and sucking until she was gasping with arousal. Then he asked, “So what do you need?”
Duncan let out a surprised little laugh. “Asking the question is a start,” she credited him. Miles grasped her ass, grinding against her, still waiting for an answer. “What do I need…” Duncan mused. A wicked idea occurred to her, and she bit her lip against a smile. “You ever been tied up, General?”
Miles looked at her with one eyebrow raised. “Many times,” he confirmed. “You think you’d know what to do with me if I was?”
The challenge in his voice sent a wave of heat through her body, making her nipples hard and her panties wet. “I think I could figure it out,” she said. Whipping her shirt off over her head, she gestured for Miles to do the same. He complied, and she pushed him down onto the bed. Duncan straddled his chest and made quick work of tying him up with her shirt. Probably he could rip the fabric if he really wanted to get away, but this wasn’t about actually having Miles captive. It was about him giving her control. Something Bass was never remotely willing to do.
Crawling on top of Miles in her lacy bra, Duncan moved so she was sitting on his thighs and worked his belt and fly open. Meeting his eyes, she licked her lips ostentatiously before pulling his pants and boxers down over his thick erection. She drew out her own suspense by carefully removing his boots and working his pants and underwear all the way off before she really let herself look at him.
And, god, when she finally did, he was magnificent. Strong legs led up to proud, heavy testicles and a cock that was impressively large, even not fully hard. Duncan couldn’t help but stare for a few long seconds. Finally, she put her hands on Miles’ thighs and slowly slid her hands upward.
Suddenly, Miles’ legs moved and twisted around her, pulling her down against him, so her face landed just beside his cock. Duncan sputtered indignantly, and Miles smirked triumphantly, looking like he was barely holding in a laugh. “Maybe you should have tied my legs, too,” he said smugly. “But while you’re down there…”
Duncan wrestled herself out of his grasp and moved up to sit on his hips, ignoring his cock beneath her as punishment. Miles still looked entirely too pleased with himself as she glared down at him, so she slapped his face lightly, just enough to chastise him a bit. Immediately, he bucked his hips up into her and groaned.
“What’s that?” Duncan asked innocently. Pulling her hand back, she slapped Miles’ face again, harder this time. He let out a breathless ‘fuck.’ His stomach muscles tightened, and Duncan felt his cock growing beneath her. “Thought you didn’t like that rough stuff,” she teased, grinding on his now-hard dick through the cloth of her pants.
“Not like him,” Miles bit out. “Don’t want to hurt you.”
“No, I can see that you don’t,” Duncan said. She grabbed Miles’ face with one hand, making a show of examining his reddening cheek where she’d struck him. “Poor baby…” she crooned, then without warning, reared back and smacked the other side of his face. Miles cried out in surprise, pain, and arousal all at once.
“There,” she said with satisfaction. “Now you match.” Clambering off him, Duncan quickly stood up and stripped her pants off, then paused teasingly with her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. “Think I should take these off?” she asked Miles, who was watching her every move.
“Unless you plan on dry humping me all night,” he snarked, the ragged edge to his voice betraying his lust.
Duncan laughed and shimmied out of her bra and underwear, leaving her completely naked. “Smart mouth,” she commented. Getting back on the bed, she positioned herself so her knees were on either side of Miles’ arms where they were tied above his head.
“Fucking sexy mouth,” she added, her voice low and gritty with need. Slowly, she spread her legs, lowing her bare pussy to Miles’ face.
As soon as he could reach her, Miles speared his tongue up between her folds, licking her firmly in long strokes. Duncan grasped the headboard behind him and closed her eyes in pleasure, then thought better of it and looked down at him. The sight of General Miles Matheson eating her out desperately while she rode his face nearly sent her over the edge, and she bucked down against him. Miles tongued her clit hard, and she pulled up with a gasp, the sensation almost too much.
“Tastes so good,” Miles panted, his face flushed, lips shiny with her juices. Duncan watched him for a few seconds, causing him to add, “You’re not gonna make me beg to give you the orgasm of your life, are you?”
“No,” she replied, shoving her cunt back against his mouth. Miles made some muffled, satisfied noise, then got back to work. Duncan wasn’t sure it would happen, most guys used their fingers to get her off, but sure enough, she felt her pussy tingling and her muscles clenching as she peaked. With a scream, she tumbled over the edge, her legs trembling as Miles licked her through her climax.
Shaking, Duncan collapsed against Miles’ chest, her pussy sliding against his now ragingly hard cock. As she came back down to earth, she began grinding against him, slicking him with her moisture, feeling pleasure building again. Miles groaned and pressed his hips up into her, trying to angle his cock to go inside her.
Propping herself up on one arm, looking down at Miles, she asked, “You want me to fuck you, General?”
Miles growled and twisted his arms, pulling against his bonds in earnest for the first time since they’d started their little game. Duncan heard the material of her shirt tearing and she reached up to hold him still. “Stop, not my shirt!” she warned. Miles stilled, his chest heaving.
“You’ve got about three seconds before I rip it ap-art,” he warned, the last word a stutter as Duncan palmed his length and lined him up with her entrance. Spreading her legs, she sank down onto Miles’ cock. His girth stretched her to her limits, and Duncan gasped in ecstasy.
“Oh my god,” she moaned, circling her hips, pushing him deeper. “Oh… my… Fuck.” When Miles hit a spot deep inside her that made her cry out in pleasure, she worked her hips against him hard, chasing her second orgasm. “Goddamn, Miles,” she gasped. “So big.”
“Don’t stop,” Miles urged her, thrusting his cock in and out of her with her rhythm. “Fuck, baby, don’t stop.”
Duncan grasped his shoulder with one hand and stroked her clit with the other as she rode him. Finally, she came again, spasming around Miles’ cock. With a roar, Miles pushed up into her, and Duncan felt his rigid cock pulsing inside her as he came.
After a second, Duncan untied Miles, leaving her shirt hanging around the headboard. As he shook the tension out of his shoulders and arms, she rolled to the side, putting a little space between them. They lay together in silence, both breathing hard. After a few minutes, Miles asked, “When did you leave Philly?”
“Couple months ago,” Duncan replied, running her fingers lightly over his chest hair.
Miles let out a surprised huff of breath. “Jesus. You stayed a long time.” Duncan just shrugged, nudging his arm with her shoulder as she did. “Why?” Miles asked.
Duncan considered the question. Why had she stayed so long? She hadn’t loved Sebastian, not really, and certainly he wasn’t capable of any feelings for her beyond lust and maybe possessiveness. “I don’t know. Me and Sebastian… I always knew things wouldn’t work out between us but… I still hoped.”
“Yeah,” Miles said gruffly. “So did I.”
That ended the conversation. Eventually, exhaustion overtook Duncan, and she fell asleep to the sound of Miles’ deep breathing behind her.
* * *
The next morning, Duncan awoke alone. As she’d expected, Miles was gone. He’d extracted himself from her room with the stealth of a trained combatant. She wouldn’t bother going back to the bar to find him. She’d done what she came to Chicago to do: she’d asked him for help and gotten her answer. Onward.
With a slight groan, Duncan rolled over onto her side and stretched, squinting her eyes almost-closed. When she relaxed and opened her eyes again, they focused on a small cloth bag sitting on the pillow next to hers. Heart pounding, she snatched it up, testing the weight of it eagerly. She could tell without looking that it contained a healthy load of diamonds.
Duncan smiled. Miles sure knew how to make a girl feel special.