Held by the Hitman

by Diana Bell

  What the? Did she leave?

  I throw the pillow off of me and sit up, looking around. She's not beside me, but I can see through the open door that her dress is still where I threw it on the kitchen counter after she took it off.

  I stand, my training and instincts taking over. I creep, trying to listen for her.

  A rustle of papers coming from my office alerts me. Why is she in there?

  I lean in the doorway and see her grinning, staring at a photograph in a frame. She glances over her shoulder, and her face lights up when she sees me. It's so fucking adorable that I almost forgive her trespassing into my office.

  "Good morning, sleepyhead," she says. She's wearing one of my t-shirts, and it looks more like a dress on her. Her hair is pulled up on top of her head, and she's makeup-free, but still the most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on.

  "Good morning. What are you doing?" I force a casual tone, leaning against the doorframe.

  "Wandering. Waiting for you to wake up," she says, setting the frame back down on my shelf and crossing the room. "I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to be in here." Her wide, dark eyes look up at me. "I didn't want to turn on the TV and wake you up."

  I wrap my arms around her. "It's fine. You sleep well?"

  She laughs, and at least she has the decency to look sheepish. "Maybe a little too well? Do you have things to do today? I can get out of here if you promise you'll call me."

  "I'm in no rush," I say, leaning down to kiss her nose. "Want breakfast?"

  "Coffee? I couldn't figure out your system, and I'm dying without it," she says, leading me back towards the kitchen.

  I slap her ass playfully as she walks past me, and she jumps, laughing.

  I pull the door shut behind me, feeling better once I hear the click as it closes. I feel unnerved with her presence in that room — it holds far too much darkness.

  I make her a pour-over coffee as she whips up a batch of french toast, exploring the fridge and pantry. I lean back against the counter, sipping the bitter liquid, watching her stand in the kitchen, cooking. It's cliche, but it's also incredibly attractive.

  My cock twitches, reminding me of last night. It wasn't a lack of satisfaction — watching her climax was one of the hottest things I have ever seen, and to be the one whose name she was yelling... My ego didn't hate it.

  She looks at home here. The possessive caveman starts up inside my head again: Mia. Mine. Stay.

  And even though her leaving is the last thing I want, I'm struck by the idea that she seems in no hurry, either. She swings her hips, humming as she watches the toast cook in the pan.

  "Grab plates," she says, pointing to the wrong cupboard.

  "Bossy," I tease.

  "Uh, these are called leadership skills, Lucian." She laughs.

  I love the way she says my name. She makes those simple syllables sound melodic. Lu-shen. I want her to say it over and over.

  I'm startled when I realize she's staring at me with a raised brow. "Plates," she says. "You stop that." She grins, pointing to my erection with the spatula. It's fairly evident in my boxer briefs.

  "No chance," I say, palming her full ass cheek as I open a cupboard with my other hand.

  She giggles, swatting my arm away.

  Forget the french toast, I could subsist on only her.

  We eat at the kitchen island, standing side by side. It all comes so easily with her.

  And that makes me nervous.

  I'm not what anyone might call marriage material.

  But I could see it with her. I could see this being a Saturday morning. I could see her here.

  I rake a hand through my hair. I should call my older brother and have him talk me out of this crazy mood I'm in.

  I'm the man they call to finish things. My life is the least stable it's ever been. And I'm here, reduced to fantasizing about a life with a woman I've known less than 24 hours.

  She pops the last bite of french toast from her plate into her mouth. "You okay? You want to take a shower or something? I'll clean up," she says.

  Maybe it's terrible to admit, but am I feeling this way because we didn't fuck last night? Is this what happens when you bring a woman home, and they stay the next day?

  I crick my neck. "Sure. Want to join?"

  She grins. "Absolutely. Start without me, though, so I can get this picked up," she says.

  "I can help with the dishes, beautiful," I say, reaching for her plate. "I'm not completely helpless."

  "It's the least I can do to say thank you," she says, her eyes wide with exasperation.

  "Thank me for what?" I ask, curious.

  "Sorry, you don't remember what you did to me right over there last night?" She jokes, pointing to where the liquor bottles are still scattered across the counter.

  "You know, you can thank me in other ways," I say, quirking a brow as I reach for her.

  She laughs. "I'm serious. I'll be right in," she says.

  She's definitely up to something... but what?

  "Okay," I pretend to concede. "Come on in when you're ready."

  I walk into the bedroom, grabbing my phone off of my nightstand, and walk into the bathroom. I flip on the shower, then dial my brother's head of security, Zeke. He knows that I'm a little more private and only checks my security camera footage when I ask him to. Of the three Dragonetti brothers, I'm the least likely to have an intruder. After all, my entire specialty hinges on being the man no one suspects.

  Or so I thought, until Mia came into my life.

  "Hello, Mr. Dragonetti," Zeke says, answering on the second ring.

  "Hey Zeke," I say. It's so weird how formal he gets around me. I lower my voice. "Question: there's a woman at my place. Can you check my office footage from around 7am and let me know if anything looks weird?"

  "Yes, sir. Would you like me to call you back with a full report?" He asks.

  "Uh, sure. Oh, but Zeke? Don't look at anything from last night from around... uh, midnight to two?" I say, rubbing my hand on the back of my neck, feeling slightly flustered at the idea.

  "Of course, sir. You can trust me with the utmost discretion and confid—"

  "It's fine. Just the office this morning, please," I say. I look up at the shower, imagining Mia in there beside me, "You can leave a message, if I don't pick up."

  "Of course. I'll call you as soon as I find anything," he says.

  I hang up and set my phone on the bathroom counter, then slide off my boxer briefs and step into the shower. With multiple jets and rain showerheads, it's more of a car wash than a regular shower.

  I'm done brushing my teeth and lathered in soap moments later when Mia appears. She stands outside of the glass with a smirk, like she hasn't ultimately decided whether or not she'll join me. And then something shifts in her expression, almost like she's letting down a guard.

  She pulls the oversized shirt off and takes out the ponytail holder, releasing her long, dark hair. I want to wrap it around my fist as I push inside of her.

  She opens the glass door and steps in, her eyes widening as she looks me over. "Oh, so you're a fucking Adonis," she says, staring at me in a way that both inflates my ego and drives me crazy with my want for her.

  I pull her to me, reveling in her naked body, slick with water against mine.

  "We'd better make this a quick shower," she says, grinding her hips against me. "Or we're going to need another shower to get clean from this one."

  "I'm not opposed to an intermission," I say, lathering soap over her skin. I massage her breasts, but also cover her belly, shoulders, back, and hips with the body wash.

  She stares up at me as I wash her, and she blinks quickly, her brow furrowing. "Who are you?" She says, repeating the tone I used last night.

  I grin as I twist her around, letting the jets and showerheads above us rinse her off. "There you go, All clean."

  She regards me as though trying to size me up, then gets a very serious expression on her face. "I'm going to need you to ta
ke me to bed and fuck me right now," she says.

  Chapter 5

  Mia

  I can tell by his wide eyes that he's surprised that I spoke the way I did, but he doesn't hesitate to turn off the shower and lift me into his arms, not bothering to dry us off.

  He steps out of the shower and pins me against the wall of the bathroom, sucking my lower lip into his mouth and holding it between his teeth. I have spent the past five minutes staring at his perfect dick, wanting to make him feel the way he had made me feel last night.

  "Oh, now you can't wait?" I tease, slowly grinding my hips into his. "If you're this eager, the shower would have been easier."

  "You've requested the bed multiple times, if I didn't oblige, I'd be a jerk," he jokes, straightening and regaining his balance.

  He walks us into the room, setting me down on the bed.

  He settles over me, trailing kisses along my throat. "I would very much like to have a repeat performance of last night," he says, punctuating every few words with a kiss. "And then I'd like to explore every other inch of you with my hands and lips and tongue."

  "Every inch?" I raise a brow.

  "Well, some areas more generously than others, I do admit," he says with a low chuckle.

  "Show me," I whisper.

  He trails his fingertips over my mouth, then down my throat, sliding down to cup my breast as he nibbles at my neck.

  I moan, my eyes closing.

  His hand kneads my breast, and his fingertips close around the nipple, rolling it delicately between his thumb and middle finger. Sensation and pleasure shoot through my body, centering on the sensitive area between my legs. My lips part in a quiet gasp.

  "And then I'd like to focus quite a lot of attention down here," he whispers, his voice husky with the same longing I'm feeling.

  His hand slides down over my stomach, moving to caress over my hip and down my thigh. He pauses until I open my eyes and see him watching me. I realize he's waiting for my approval.

  "Yes," I whisper, unable to hide the swell of emotion deep in my chest, even if I was trying my best not to let them.

  He drags his hand up my thigh, cupping my ass in the palm of his hand. I can hear his heavy breathing quicken as he hitches my leg up, holding me open. His fingertips slide over my ass cheek and part me from behind, letting out a soft moan when his fingers feel just how ready I am.

  The faint sensation of his fingertips sliding along my warmth makes me cling to him for stability.

  "Yes," I breathe into his ear, biting my lower lip to hold back a whimper. My hips take on a will of their own, moving to gain more friction against his hand.

  "And then I'd very much like to fuck you, as requested," he says, turning his face so that his breath tenderly strokes my throat as his fingers circle my center ever so gently.

  "Yes," I beg, digging my fingernails into his shoulder. I nearly cry out as he withdraws his hand and straightens, standing in front of me. He lifts his finger to his lips, sucking it into his mouth. I watch him taste me, almost unraveling at the sight.

  I'm overcome with desire for him. I push him onto his back and climb on top of him, taking in the chiseled muscles of his shoulders and chest. My fingers run over his six-pack, and down to the V of the muscles at his hips, then lower...

  I stare down at him, this man who I had known for such a short time, and yet had come to care so much for. I'm in way over my head, but I had decided that morning I can't go through with the rest of the plan. I had half-heartedly searched his office, but it wasn't worth it for me.

  I care for him.

  I won't betray him.

  I had taken a moment before getting in the shower to call my uncle and let him know that I hadn't found anything.

  But I wasn't going to worry about what fate was out there for me because of that.

  Every moment with him, I feel like a goddess, as though he's was worshipping my body. I feel protected and... loved.

  I begin to climb down his body, but he reaches out, stopping me.

  "Turn around," he says.

  I look at him in confusion.

  "I want you to ride my face as I fuck your mouth," he says clearly.

  I move quickly at that, flipping around until I'm hovering over his velvety, purple, and red cock. He pulls my hips until I'm in line with his mouth and wastes no time.

  I take him in my hand but nearly forget myself as he takes one long, slow lick of my pussy with his magic tongue.

  I lick the tip of him and try not to giggle as he bucks his hips in response. I take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head as he ravishes me.

  I'm not going to last long, and judging by the pulsing of his dick in my mouth, I don't know if he is, either.

  I'm right on the edge when he stops and gasps, "I need to be inside of you. Right now."

  He takes my hips and twists me around until I'm settled over top of him.

  "Ride my cock, beautiful. Just like you rode my face," he says.

  I take him in my hand and guide him to my entrance. I'm not exactly experienced, and I worry about it hurting.

  "Go slow, okay?" I say.

  He nods, waiting for me to settle onto him before he pushes up into me slowly. I feel myself tighten and relax as I take him deeper. I rock my hips, urging him deeper until he buries himself. Our bodies cease moving for a second as I adjust to the fullness of him.

  "You're so fucking tight," he says. "Like you were made for me."

  He begins to move his hips, and together, we find a rhythm. Slowly at first, getting to know the feel of each other as our hands roam across the other's skin.

  Our rhythm quickens as I grind my hips into his, riding higher and higher towards my release. He reaches down between us and circles my clit, over and over, only hitting the most sensitive place after I begin desperately writhing my hips against his hand, arching into him as his hardness stretches me.

  It doesn't take me long to peak. I cry out and shatter around him, every muscle in my body tensing. I cling to him as my pleasure crests, then began to ebb. He comes a moment later, pulling me down against him as he thrusts up into me, muffling his groans in the crook of my neck.

  We lay in silence as we each try to catch our breath. He presses his lips against my throat, my shoulder, my collarbone, and I massage my fingers into his scalp. A kind of quiet, new intimacy lies with us, as though this is something familiar and comfortable.

  I fall to the side of him, and he wraps me in his arms, and I settled my head against his chest, feeling warm.

  I love him. He's mine, and I'm his.

  And I don't know how I'm ever going to deserve him.

  "Yeah, I definitely think we'll need another shower," he jokes in a whisper.

  Chapter 5

  Luca

  I open my eyes to the late-afternoon light coming in the window.

  What time is it? What day is it?

  Mia sleeps beside me, still snoring softly.

  I want to curl into her and continue round... what would this be, four or five?

  I can't get enough of her.

  My phone dings and I reach for it, seeing a message from Zeke.

  "Call me immediately," it reads. I notice I've missed three calls from him and countless other texts.

  Fuck. That doesn't sound good.

  I carefully climb out of bed without disturbing her and pull on a pair of shorts.

  I walk out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I call him, walking into the kitchen. I lean against the counter still messy with all of the bottles from the night before when she made martinis.

  "What have you found?" I say, keeping my voice low.

  "Sir, she's definitely looking for something. She went through your phone this morning, looked through your entertainment center, and then rifled through your office," he said.

  "That's not good," I whisper, stunned. Betrayed. Pissed beyond belief.

  "There's more, sir," he says. "I reviewed tapes from the bar last nigh
t, and she was definitely looking around your office there, too. And she knew to flip over the pen camera I gave you."

  "What's she looking for?" I ask.

  "Your guess is as good as mine. But if I had to take a wild guess, it'd be something related to your... specialty," he says.

  She was looking for information on my next mark.

  Which meant she knew exactly who I was.

  Fuck.

  My heart pounds in my chest as I rake a hand through my hair. How could she...

  "I need you to search for a name for me. Mia. See if anything pops up," I say.

  "Any guess on last name?" He asks. "I'll start a search, but it's not an uncommon name."

  "Add in George. Georgie," I say, remembering her text messages.

  He goes quiet for a moment, then sighs. "As in, Georgie Vitale?"

  Fuck.

  I slam my fist down on the countertop.

  "And Mia, any chance it's short for Maria?" He adds.

  I already know what he's going to say before he even starts. Because deep down, I knew. I knew it was all too good to be true.

  I see the shadow of her feet under the bedroom door from where I'm standing. She's there, listening to my conversation.

  "Get them caught up. I'll send a message if I need," I say, knowing he'll know what to do, then hang up the phone.

  I reach behind me to palm the small paring knife from the night before as she opens the door.

  She at least has the decency to look innocent. She walks into the kitchen and reaches for me, but I move just as quick. I hold the knife to her throat, leaning her backward over the center island. Her eyes widen in surprise. She's a much better actress than I had given her credit for.

  "Maria Vitale, what the fuck are you looking for?" I ask.

  She swallows, the vulnerable skin of her neck pressing against the knife tighter for a second. One slice and her carotid artery would be open.

  "I can explain," she says.

  "You'd fucking better," I say.

  She stares up at me with a saddened expression, and I release her.

  She holds a hand to her throat, and begins to explain.