Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense

by Imani King

  “Oh God, Gabi,” he said. Red moved his thumb faster and faster over my clit. A rush of wetness came to my sex, and he slid inside again. My breath caught in my throat, the whole of my being focused on Red, joined to him irreparably. “Gabriella,” he said, a throaty whisper. “My beautiful.”

  He held himself inside of me for a moment, moving his thumb faster and faster until the muscles of my abdomen began to tense. I cried out and squeezed my legs around his waist.

  “Stop... teasing... me,” I said, panting and bringing my hands to my breasts. I rolled my nipples, each nerve in my body reaching out for that final release. “I need to come, please make me.” Red brought his hands to my waist and pulled back. He thrust hard inside of me, each movement filling me to the hilt again and again.

  “You’re an angel, Gabi,” he murmured. I rocked against him, drawn forth into the tide of his pleasure, my body vibrating in time with his. My breath came in shorter and shorter pants as he slammed into me, his hips slapping against mine.

  “Come inside of me, baby,” I said, gasping.

  “Fuck, Gabi, my dirty little angel.” I brought my hands to his abs, feeling his muscles work, tightening against me. “Oh God, Gabi.” He slowed for a moment and let out a deep sigh, filling me more slowly. Bringing his hand back to my sex, he leaned back and started flicking his thumb back and forth over my clit again. My body began vibrating, each pulse of need pounding through me with the movements of his fingers. I panted, my breath almost escaping me for a moment.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming, Red, oh God...”

  “That’s it, sweet girl. Come for me.” He pushed hard into me and groaned, moving his thumb faster and faster. My body tensed, each muscle coiling tight before releasing in a symphony of pleasure. I rocked my hips against him, trying to take more of him inside of me, my sex greedy for more. As if from far away, I heard him groaning, felt him slamming into me, his movements slow and deliberate. The sensation of release swept through my body. Vibrations of pleasure rang out through every fiber of my being. “Red,” I cried, my voice hoarse.

  He thrust into me one last time, his body jerking hard. He filled me, my body throbbing against his, finally, totally, and completely fulfilled. He fell into me, taking me into his arms on the bed.

  “Gabi, oh Gabi.” He said my name over and over, our bodies still entwined.

  “I can’t believe this is what I was missing out on,” I murmured, my body still glowing, pulsing with his heat. “Is it always like this?”

  “No,” he said, pulling me closer and kissing me hard. “This is special. So insanely special.”

  I closed my eyes and rested my head against his shoulder. I drifted off to sleep. If I’d known then what horrors we would face, I would have pulled us both out of that damn apartment.

  Maybe Red should have known. He thought he knew my father better than anyone.

  Maybe I should have known too.

  But we were both wrong, blinded in our lust.

  Red

  She was so beautiful when she slept. Hell, she was beautiful anytime, anywhere, under any circumstance. I marveled at the luxurious curves of her breasts, watching as they rose and fell under the sheets. My whole body felt electrified, pulsing with the memory of being inside of her.

  Gabriella. Our bodies fit together like they were made for each other.

  At the height of my ecstasy, the pleasure had coursed through me like fire, and I thought that I might evaporate like water on a July sidewalk. I’d never known such pleasure in my miserable life, never experienced release like that with any woman I’d taken to my bed. Gabi wasn’t just any woman—she was a woman of class, of purpose. A woman with big dreams, her damaged heart full of kindness and longing.

  Gabriella, only twenty. Far more complex than her years on this earth would suggest. She’d grown up so fast, taken from her mother’s home and pushed into her father’s life. It was an ugly world, and Art was at the ugly heart of it. He was so far from this sweet, beautiful woman that it was laughable. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me, her skin smooth and hot against my palm. I buried my face in her hair, taking in the scent of her. Her curls were splayed out, frizzy from the shower, still damp at their very center. I brought my hand to her ass and squeezed it gently. I groaned and pressed my body into hers. I’d taken her for the first time only hours ago, but fuck, I wanted her again. Wanted to watch her face when she came, wanted to watch her take me inside of her. She sighed in her sleep, and I moved my hand over her waist and up to the curve of her breast. I cupped it gently in my hand, trailing my fingers over her nipple. Her mouth opened, and she let out a sigh, sensual and desirous even in sleep.

  This was a woman made for loving. There was no question. And she had picked me to be her first. Silly girl. Silly, perfect girl. My cock throbbed, growing hard as I touched her beneath the sheets, moving my index finger around her nipple. She moaned very slightly, her eyelids fluttering open for a moment. She turned to me, eyes still closed. I moved my hand over her other breast, and then lower, grabbing her at the waist before lowering my hand to her hot, tight sex. I thought about how she had taken me, the need for pleasure written on her face like a beautiful poem. I slipped my fingers between her legs, finding a slick wetness there.

  “Fuck, you’re already wet. God Gabi, as long as I live, I’ll never get enough of you.”

  “Red,” she sighed, turning towards me and draping her leg over mine, spreading her legs open for me. She brought her hand to join mine and pressed my fingers inside of her. Her sheath was hot and tight, wetness flooding over my fingers. I pumped my hand inside of her, rubbing the base of my palm against her clit. Making small, adoring sounds of desire, she bucked against my hand, pushing me deeper inside. Her eyes opened, full of fire and that need she’d shown me when she first spent the night here. She pushed me down on the bed and draped herself over me, leaning down and kissing me. I fingered her from below, and she moved ever so slightly, rocking against my hand. My mouth opened to hers. I tasted her sweetness, the innocence of her youth, the powerful, sensual woman she was becoming. “I am already wet,” she said. “And I want you again.”

  She took my hand in hers again and moved it to my side. Hips angled over mine, she took my cock in her hand and guided it inside of her. I watched her face as she took me in. There was need so real on her face, satisfaction so complete as she lowered herself and took me in completely. I gripped her waist and thrust into her from below. Her little moan was like music, her sex slick and tight, moving against my cock, bringing me to the edge with the slightest movements.

  “Slow down baby,” I said. “It’s too goddamn good. Oh God.” I threw my head back, and she moved faster, riding me.

  “I can’t slow down... I need it, oh God, ohhh...” I watched her face transform. Her cheeks flushed deep red, and she bit her lower lip gently, closing her eyes. At the last moment, she opened her mouth and groaned, a delicious, primal sound, at once full of longing and fulfillment. I felt her tense and tighten against me, and I felt myself starting to let go. I started rocking into her from below and filling her again and again. She threw her head back and cried out with delight, bearing down hard on my cock. I closed my eyes as my balls tightened, coming hard inside of her, the fire lighting through my body again.

  That rush, there was nothing like it. No drug in the world could compete—with her, the pleasure built and built instead of fading away. I grunted and brought my hands to her hips, squeezing hard as I thrust one last time from below. I opened my eyes and watched as she rocked against me, riding the last wave of her climax, the last wave of mine, our pleasure tied into one phenomenon. As the flush faded from her cheeks and her eyes opened, she fell against me. I kissed her forehead, the last of her perspiration lingering on my lips.

  “There’s nothing like it,” she said, “Feeling you inside of me.” I kissed her, savoring that moment, knowing that none of this would last. Soon it would all go to hell. It would have to, t
o protect Gabriella from that horrible little man. I brushed my hand against her cheek.

  “Today’s the day, Gabi. I have to face up to what I’ve done, or your father will just keep using people. He won’t stop until he’s used you up or killed you, either one. I know that now.”

  “Red, I don’t know what you’ve done... but it can’t be as bad as what my dad did. Or what he’s done in the few days since I’ve been home.”

  “Gabi, no. It was. There are men from the mafia in New York who have been hunting me for years. Not to mention the damn FBI.” She pulled away from me for a moment and looked into my eyes.

  “Red, what in the hell did you do?”

  “I can’t tell you. You won’t feel the same way about me anymore. It won’t be the same.”

  She took my face in her hands, her fingers cool and soothing. “Red, it won’t matter. I told you. I’m in this.” I tried to turn away but she wouldn’t let me.

  “I was eighteen,” I said. My voice, dark and distant. That day, that horrible day. My mother, cowering on the floor of the kitchen. My sister with the bruised face. They’d seen what I did, and I had to leave. I had to leave then and there. And Art was the one they called.

  “You were eighteen. Go on,” she said. Her voice, like a beacon of light.

  “I killed a cop.” My voice almost broke, but I wouldn’t let it. In twelve years, I hadn’t muttered a word to anyone about that day. Not even Art, who knew all the damn dirty details. Art, who paid off the cops after he hid me away in Los Angeles under a new name, a new life. “My father.” She nodded.

  “You had a reason,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “He was a bad man, Gabriella. He hurt my family. My mother, my sisters. He took what was left of us and ground it into the dirt. I choked him the day after I turned eighteen. I never faced up to it, never faced my family. Never served my time.”

  “He was a bad man. I believe you. And if you turn my father in... he gives you up too.” I nodded.

  “You might not have to serve any time. Was it self-defense?”

  “Pre-meditated. I’d written the whole thing out before I did it. Art has the paper. He still does.” I closed my eyes, buried my face in her shoulder. “And even if the judge let me off after running for so long... Dad was a dirty cop, Gabi. And there’s men who would gladly hunt me down in any corner of the world, in any prison.”

  “We’ll run,” she said. “We can run to Costa Rica. To Alaska. Somewhere no one can find us.”

  “Art always could. And if he was put away, his men could get to me, too.”

  “There must be a way. A way for us to escape, Red.” She pulled me in close and ran her fingers through my hair. My face was tight, my stomach a knot.

  “Believe me, I’ve thought of it all, Gabi.” I looked up at her. “I’ve always been a doomed man. Or I thought I was. I never had anyone who cared about me. Not really. Not for years. There’s only one thing left to do now. I turn myself in to the authorities, and I turn Art in too. I go down with him.”

  “Red, no. No, you can’t.”

  “Gabi, yes I can. It’s the right thing to do. And if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll do it for you.”

  “Red, we can be together. I know we can. We can make it happen, run away, escape.” I saw the tears forming in her eyes, beads forming on her exquisitely long lashes. I wouldn’t let this woman down. I would make sure that she was safe, even if it was with my last dying breath. And it could be.

  “Right now, we need to hatch a plan while Art is out there picking those idiots up. I know how he works, and he’ll go himself to make sure that everything is on the up and up. He expected to hear from them this morning, no sooner. It’s a dead spot out there, and I’m sure those guys were supposed to bury me. And hell, I’m pretty sure they were supposed to knock you out so that Art could look like the good guy in the morning.”

  “How do you know all of this?”

  “Because I’ve done it a hundred times, Gabi. I told you I’m no good.” She ran her fingers through my hair and drew me into her, kissing me on the forehead.

  “It’s my father who’s no good, Red. And he can’t win.” She rolled away from me and walked to the bathroom. Her beautiful ass swayed, that slim waist begging to be touched. I watched as she pulled my t-shirt over her head, the boxers over her bottom. Even as recently as I’d had her, I longed to take her into my arms again, bury myself inside her, never let go.

  “I won’t let him, Gabi.”

  “And what about me? Can’t I help in all of this?”

  “No, Gabi, it’s too dangerous. I know a guy, undercover from the FBI. Art doesn’t know I have a connection there. We’ll take you in, and I’ll get you in protective custody—”

  “I can take care of myself, you know.” She combed her fingers through her hair, pulling it up into a bun. A few of her shorter curls fell around her heart-shaped face, framing it perfectly in the growing dawn light. I’d pay all my money to watch this woman forever, to see her each morning as the sun rose.

  “Not against these guys.” I rolled out of bed and walked over to the bathroom. “Let me shower and we’ll get out of here.” Gabi caught me in her arms and pulled me in close, standing on her tip-toes to kiss me. She drew me into her, her lips as hungry as they had been the first time we’d kissed. I swear it, I almost lost my mind then and there, thinking about leaving this woman behind.

  We could run, we could run, I thought. But I’d been running too long, and this woman deserved far better than that. I pulled away from her and grasped her small hand in mine.

  “Trust me, Gabi. I know what I’m doing.” She nodded and sauntered back to the bed, then sank down onto the comforter. I wanted to go to her then, lie down beside her. And perhaps I should have.

  It might have saved her from what happened next, but then again, it might not have.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Gabriella

  I listened as Red started the shower, a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. I laced my fingers and clicked my nails together, unable to stop fidgeting.

  Something isn’t right.

  How could Red be so sure about my father? How could he know what Art was going to do? I knew my mom had always told me that the man who worked for my father knew him better than anyone, could nearly read his thoughts. But in all this mess, Red had been focused on me, not the man who paid him.

  And the man who had saved him from his personal hell. The pain on Red’s face when he had confessed… that was old pain, deep pain, the pain of a childhood barely lived, fear around every corner. I knew that emotion. It had ruled me from the time my mother had started drinking, from the time of her descent into near-madness. I thought of Red, rotting away in a cell, or even tied up in Queens with probation. Either way, it sounded like he’d be a target of the mafia, even after all this time. From what I’d seen in my short life, it was clear that criminals didn’t forgive, didn’t forget.

  “This is so far from my life in Berkeley,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and picking up my phone. Red had more or less saved it, but the crack in the screen obscured most of what I could see. I swiped the screen open, the crack scraping against the surface of my thumb. I could see that I had ten text messages, all from the same person. But I couldn’t tell who it was from. I looked closer, trying to make out the name.

  Where are you Gabi?

  What have you and that man gotten yourself into?

  “Oh no,” I muttered. I could hear shuffling outside, near the elevator. My stomach dropped.

  I thought you were better than this, but it turns out you’re just like your mother.

  “All from this morning.” I looked closer at the screen, and I could barely make out the letters of the contact. But from the anger behind the words, it was pretty clear who the texts were from. There was a loud knock at the door, and a voice that I recognized as Federico’s. That fucking creepy servant who had greeted me when I first arrived.
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