Kissing My Killer

by Newbury, Helena

  He lowered his head and started to kiss down my neck, his stubble rasping lightly on the sensitive skin there, making me twist and gasp. I was burning up inside, the heat swelling and building, and every kiss soaked into me and added its heat to the fire. With my back against the wall, I was out of the main spray, but I had absolutely no chance of being cold. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to feel cold again.

  The water from the shower was thundering down on his head, streaming down over his face and hitting me, mixing with his kisses as he worked his way along my collarbone. Soft kisses, but possessive. He licked the water from the little hollow above my collarbone and I moaned. Then he lowered his head, pressing hard against me and—

  I gasped and tensed as he bit my shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to make me squirm. It was a lesson—that he could so easily hurt me, but he wouldn’t.

  And then he moved down to my breasts.

  At the first touch of his lips against the soft skin, I pulled on my wrists. It wasn’t that I wanted him to stop—just that I wanted to touch him, to run my hands down his back and feel his ass, to respond in some way.

  My wrists moved all of a millimeter. Then he pressed them back, hard, against the tiles.

  That did something to me. An unfamiliar, crackling dark heat that went straight down to my groin, like thick black oil shot through with lightning. I twisted my wrists. I knew they wouldn’t move, and they didn’t.

  But it felt good.

  I cried out as his tongue, hot and slick, lapped at my nipple. Water was cascading down off his forehead, bathing my breasts, and as he licked it was a non-stop mix of sensations: hot water, then a break of cool air as he blocked the water, then the quick, heated lash of his tongue against my aching flesh, then back to the water.

  The pleasure built and built. Unable to do anything with my hands, I had to settle for crushing my thighs together harder and harder. The energy was pulsing and swelling inside me, getting ready to explode, and I had...to...contain...it….

  He opened his mouth wide and took my breast into his mouth, enveloping nipple and soft flesh, and I went crazy, gasping and shaking, grinding myself against the wall. His tongue was pushing hard into the softness, drawing circles and then darting to flick across my nipple. His free hand started to work at my other breast and the pleasure expanded out of control.

  I needed him inside me. My face was hot with how badly I wanted it. I jerked my wrists against his hand again but he held me fast. We were going to go at his pace and I had no say in the matter...other than to jerk my groin towards him to show him where I ached.

  He responded. He lifted his head from my breast and looked into my eyes as his free hand slid down my stomach, interrupting the glossy sheen of moving water. It slid all the way down to my thighs, gliding over skin. Then inward.

  God.... He was going to use his fingers on me there, tease me...that was too much, I needed him, needed him inside me—

  I crossed my legs, one over the other.

  He slid his hand between them like a blade and forced them open—God, so easily. Enough for him to slip a knee between them and then I was held open and defenseless. And I was hotly aware that part of me wanted to be defenseless, that the sensation of him opening me up was far and away the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. I was aware that I was twisting and squirming but not actually saying no.

  And then his hand cupped me, hard fingers gliding over my lips, and I could feel how slickly wet I was. His fingers stroked back and then forward, rocking as much as rubbing, and little earthquakes of pleasure rippled out from my groin with every movement. I bit my lower lip, eyes tight closed, my breath coming as quick little gasps. I could feel the way I was opening to him, even though he was applying no pressure at all. My body was inviting him in.

  He leaned towards me again, the hard buttons of his shirt pressing into my chest, a reminder that he was still fully clothed. I pushed with my wrists again but I was still trapped, helpless to resist as his mouth met mine, his tongue tracing the join of my lips and then plunging in as I opened. I groaned into his mouth as his thick finger parted the folds of my sex and slid up into me. And then I was thrusting back against him with my hips, shamelessly urging him on.

  I was slippery tight around him and he pushed deep—God, those big hands, knobbly perfection.... I broke the kiss, sucking in breath—

  And then he was pumping into me and my legs were instinctively bending at the knees, even though that meant taking my weight on my arms. He helped me, pressing his hips hard against mine to support me. I lifted my feet right off the floor, opening my knees wide for him and pressing the soles of my feet together, my toes wriggling against one another.

  His hand pressed right up against me, his finger buried in me and his palm flat against my groin. He started to rock it against me and I could feel how wet I was, the lips engorged with blood, my clit throbbing and aching. He fucked me like that with his finger, palm grinding against my clit, and I gave myself up to it, getting wetter and wetter, hotter and hotter, the pleasure expanding to fill every part of me. The water was still rolling down his body and streaming onto mine, turning us both into shining statues, his tanned body between my pale thighs. His hand moved faster and faster, an insistent rhythm I couldn’t fight and didn’t want to. My legs drew up even further, my heels rubbing and circling—

  He put his mouth right at my ear and spoke for the first time. The hot rush of air took me by surprise and then the words melted into my brain:

  “Come for me.” A low growl, the vowels drawn out by that heavy accent. Cold steel wrapped around a white-hot core.

  I exploded. My back arched, my breasts crushed against his chest. My head ground against the tiles, rolling from side to side, cushioned by my soaked hair. The climax rolled through me in waves and I felt myself spasm and shake around his pumping finger. I drew in big gulps of air as the pleasure carried me like a wave, leaving me floating in warm darkness. It was long seconds before I came back to reality and opened my eyes.

  ...to find myself on tiptoe, one arm stretched out above me, wrist firmly pressed against the tiles, the other hand down between my thighs. My shoulders and calves ached from holding the position for so long.

  I cranked off the water and stepped out, my legs weak and shaky. I’d probably set a new record for the longest shower, even for me. And my brain was swimming with what I’d done. Where had all that come from, all that stuff about being...pinned and powerless. I wasn’t into that. Was I?

  I remembered his eyes.

  Him. It had come from him. Or he’d triggered something deep inside me. I had no idea who he was or what he did—hell, he could be an accountant for all I knew. But it didn’t feel like that could be true. He’d had an aura about him, one that was just as vivid in memory as it had been in person. A brutal power. Even as I thought about it, I felt a hot throb go through my groin.

  I sighed. He was going to make good, slightly shameful fantasy material for months to come. It wasn’t just the raw sexual attraction, it was that glimpse I’d seen—or thought I’d seen. That tiny hint of light amongst all the darkness. The idea of exploring that was even more enticing than the sex.

  It killed me that I’d never see him again.

  Alexei

  She came back into the bedroom with just a towel wrapped around her. Her skin looked, if it was possible, even softer now. I could imagine the feel of her, warm and still slightly damp. I wanted to slide my hands under the towel and pry it free, let it fall to the floor and—

  I caught my breath as she slowly unwrapped the towel. This time, I had a better view of her. I could see the dark brown hair at her groin, even the briefest hint of pink lips beneath the curls. She looked different, now, with her hair wet and pulled back from her face. Just as gorgeous and fragile, but more sexual. She was flushed and—Jesus, her nipples were hard.

  She pulled on a pair of panties. Then a red nightshirt with a cartoon elephant on the front. I groaned beca
use that meant she wasn’t going out again tonight.

  Maybe the hacker wouldn’t come home. There’d been no movement at any of the windows the whole time she was in the shower, so I was pretty sure he wasn’t there. Maybe he was away for a few days or maybe he’d just been staying at her place for a few days and had moved on. There was a chance I wouldn’t have to go in there at all.

  For the first time, it really hit me how much I didn’t want to burst in there. Not just because I didn’t want to scare her, or take her boyfriend from her. The main reason was selfish: I didn’t want her to see what I was. It wasn’t that I had any illusions that we could be together. I wanted her—Jesus, I wanted her—but the thought of her innocence polluted by me—that was unthinkable. Even if, on some level, it was a turn on.

  My phone rang. Nikolai.

  “Why haven’t you done it?” he asked immediately. He sounded edgy and annoyed, which was unlike him. My boss is a mean son of a bitch, but he’s normally very calm. And how did he know I hadn’t done it?

  “The guy’s not home yet,” I said. “I’m waiting for him.”

  “Bullshit. That bastard’s been in my computer in the last hour! What the fuck am I paying you for?”

  I jumped to my feet. Shit! The guy had been there all the time. He must be in the room with the covered window. I pictured some fat fuck in a stained t-shirt, sitting at a computer—he probably barely moved from day to day. “It’ll be done,” I told Nikolai. “Five minutes.”

  In the apartment, the girl was sitting down and turning on the TV. My heart compressed down to a hard little ball of ice. I was going to have to kill him, right in front of her.

  I couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  Alexei

  On the way to the apartment, I dumped the rifle in the trunk and took out a silenced pistol instead, slipping it under my jacket. When I closed the trunk, Lev had twisted around in his seat and was giving me a what the fuck?! gesture through the glass. He tapped his watch meaningfully: I’d been in the office building almost an hour. I shrugged and crossed the street.

  But he was right—this was taking too long. Had I really been waiting for the hacker to come home, or had part of it been delaying, putting off the moment when I’d have to show her who I really was? I didn’t know anymore. Just the fact I was second-guessing myself was worrying enough.

  I rehearsed it in my mind. Knock on her door. She’d probably put the chain on, but one good kick should snap it. Push her out of the way, three or four strides would take me to the door of the room where the hacker was. Open the door, two shots to the chest, turn, out through the door without even looking at her again. Then walk—don’t run—away.

  And then I was going to find the lowest, seediest dive bar I could, drink until I forgot about tonight and fuck until I forgot about her.

  She’d be a witness. But a witness wasn’t the worst thing in the world. The only important thing was stopping the hacker. Nikolai had told me, when he’d given me the job, that the bastard was trying to get into our bank accounts and suck us dry. He deserved everything he got.

  As I entered the apartment building, I felt the calm descend. The adrenaline can leave you feeling like that, sometimes: sped up but serene, as if you’re floating.

  I knocked at the door of 1006 and then listened carefully. I wanted to know if he tried to escape onto the fire escape. But all I could hear were soft footsteps approaching the door.

  Shit. I’d guessed it would probably be her, because the hacker evidently never got up from his computer. But I’d been hoping against hope that it would be him, and that I could do it at the door without her even seeing me.

  I heard an intake of breath. She’d looked through the spy hole and seen me. I had my arms down by my sides, relaxed and unthreatening. I’d even taken a step back from the door—an old salesman trick to set people at ease.

  The door opened a crack. I was right: she’d put the chain on. Those huge hazel eyes blinked out at me, uncertain and just a little excited.

  She was pleased to see me. God help me, she was pleased to see me.

  She was half-hiding behind the door, probably trying to conceal the fact she was in her nightclothes. But that meant I couldn’t just kick the door open to break the chain—not without hurting her.

  We looked at each other. I was desperately trying to think of a way to get past the door that didn’t involve cracking it against her skull. I heard myself say, “Can we talk?”

  I saw her shoulders lift as she took a long, slow breath. I could see the battle going on inside her, the little looks she was casting at my eyes, my suit, my neck—shit, could she see my tattoos?

  Eventually, she bit her lip and nodded. Her eyes said, don’t let me be wrong about you.

  My guts twisted.

  She unfastened the chain.

  As soon as the door opened, I ran past her. The door to the mystery room was right where I’d imagined it. By the time I reached it, I’d already pulled out my gun.

  I heard her give a strangled scream behind me.

  I turned the handle and swung the door wide, the pistol coming up to fire—

  The room was tiny. Barely room for a desk and a chair. And the chair was empty.

  Everything clicked into place and I realized how incredibly fucking stupid I’d been.

  I turned around just in time to see the girl running out of the apartment.

  Gabriella

  This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

  I was sprinting barefoot down the hallway. I wanted to scream for help but I needed all my air for running. At the same time, my lungs felt as if they were shutting down because I was going into full-on panic mode. For years, the apartment had been the one place I felt safe. Now, all the bad in the world had suddenly broken in.

  I’d been forced out of my home and I had nowhere to run for sanctuary. To me, nowhere outside was safe.

  I heard him behind me, long legs eating up the distance. He’d be on me in seconds.

  I tried to go faster. I focused on the door to the stairwell at the end of the hallway—I knew I didn’t have time to wait for the elevator. Another ten steps. Five. Three.

  I put my hand on the door handle just as I felt his arm go around my waist.

  I opened my mouth to scream and his hand clamped over it.

  And then I was being dragged back down the hallway to my apartment.

  Alexei

  This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

  I had one arm around her waist. Her back was against my front as I walked backwards, dragging her heels along the carpet, checking over my shoulder for any witnesses. My careful plan was gone. Inside, I was beating myself up over and over for my stupidity, but even that couldn’t completely distract me from—

  Her soft ass grinding against my crotch as she kicked and struggled—

  That mass of walnut-brown hair, cool and wet against my neck—

  Her open, panting mouth, lips soft against my palm—

  I reached the door of her apartment and hauled her inside, kicking the door shut behind us. I dumped her in a heap on the floor.

  She opened her mouth to scream.

  I pulled out the gun and pointed it right at her face.

  Gabriella

  My scream died in my throat. I stared down the barrel of the gun and it seemed to expand to fill my vision, a black hole that was going to consume me. He was panting, though nowhere near as hard as me, and his eyes were wide. But the gun didn’t waver at all.

  I was sitting awkwardly, one leg bent and one straight, but I didn’t dare move. I looked up into his eyes. The icy gray was there, colder than it had been in the coffee shop, colder than anything I’d ever seen. A merciless, machine-like gaze. But this time, I could see the other side of him, the flash of blue stronger than it had been before. He was battling with himself. My fate was being decided, right in front of me.

  “You’ve got the wrong person,” I croaked. “I’m nobody.” I hadn�
��t been ready for how the last two words made me feel.

  He shook his head. Then he said, “You’re the hacker.”

  And I suddenly realized what his accent was: Russian.

  He’d been sent by Nikolai Orlov. Or one of the other Russians the Sisters of Invidia had hacked. We’d thought we were untraceable. And it had all happened so far away, on computers in Moscow...none of us had ever contemplated that these animals might catch up with us in the real world. “Oh Jesus Christ,” I whispered. Which was as good as an admission.

  His entire body was tensed and tight. I could see the corded muscles in his neck standing out and the white of his knuckles as he gripped the gun. And then I saw his finger start to tighten on the trigger.

  Alexei

  You have to.

  What I wanted was irrelevant.

  How I felt about her was irrelevant.

  My entire career, I’d followed the rules: be distant, be disconnected, be a machine. And then she’d appeared out of nowhere and changed everything, made me break every rule.

  And now I was paying the price.

  One bullet. One shot between the eyes. One squeeze of the trigger.

  That’s all I had to do.

  I’d never closed my eyes before. I’d always figured I owed them that, the people I killed. But I closed them now. Just do it. You can pull the trigger and not open your eyes until you’ve turned away.

  It was worse, with my eyes closed. I could see her in the coffee shop, looking up at me. I could see her naked in the window. I could see her as she was now, in her nightshirt with the cartoon elephant on it.

  How?! I screamed at myself. How could you not guess it was her? But I already knew exactly why: this girl had bewitched me from the very first moment we’d met. After that, my brain hadn’t let me even entertain the possibility that the hacker might be female. She’d made me lose my edge and that was terrifying.