The HiT Series

by Margaret McHeyzer

  He’s tall, six-foot two-inches. His body is tight; I can see the muscles from under his button-down shirt. He stands straight, his chest out, his head up high. He commands respect. You can see from his posture he’s a man used to wielding authority.

  He’s holding a beer and talking to another man of similar height, but he’s got darker hair and a bigger build. The other man has his arm around a gorgeous brunette woman. Between her and me, we have the attention of every male in this establishment.

  But the sex god has yet to meet my eyes. This is the only male I want looking at me. The other guy gestures with his head toward me and that’s when Mr. Sex God turns and meets my gaze.

  Holy shit! He has bright, deep blue eyes that penetrate straight through me. He doesn’t just glance at me, he stares into me. His hair is short and dark brown with slight tinges of red. He stops what he’s doing and I see him take a deep breath in.

  He’s now focused entirely on me and I’ve turned my body on the stool so I’m focused entirely on him. Beautiful is one word to describe him, but I’m sure I can think of at least a hundred more words.

  I can see the darker-headed one still talking to him. Mr. Sex God’s not paying any attention to him at all. Nothing. He smiles and with that smile we both know tonight is about him and me.

  He walks toward me without saying a word to anyone. Even his stroll is sexy, slow strides but strong and confident. His shoulders are back, his chest out, his head lifted. He comes and stands mere inches away from my legs. Our knees are nearly touching, not quite, but almost. I can feel the heat coming off his body, radiating toward me and by the way he’s looking at me, he can feel it too.

  “I’m going to buy you a drink.” His voice is smooth and velvety. It’s not a question he’s asking; it’s most definitely a statement.

  “Good.” My eyes haven’t left his. My body is doing things it’s never done before. Those flips in my belly are getting larger and my panties are getting wetter as my heart rate has almost doubled in beats per minute.

  Mr. Sex God sits next to my left, where Cooper had only moments before. I swing my stool around and cross my legs tight, trying to relieve some of the pressure in my very wet, very needy pussy.

  Our knees are now touching. Yes, that hot, raw, electric feeling is there. Even through his trousers I can feel it. It’s jumping between us. He hasn’t taken his eyes off my face. His stare is alternating between my eyes and my mouth. My lips are turned up in the smallest smile and one of my eyebrows is cocked up.

  I can see the bulge in his pants, and it’s obvious to both of us how we’re very attracted to one another. I don’t just want him tonight, I need him. I need him in every way I can have him. I can imagine his mouth kissing my neck. Slowly making his way to my breasts where his hands are replaced by his hot tongue and mouth. His tongue dashing out and licking my nipple while I run my hands through his hair and down his back, lightly scratching as I move up and down his body. My legs wrapped around his waist……. I have to stop or I’m going to come right here sitting on this bar stool looking at this delicious man.

  “I’m Ben Pearson,” he says, not even bothering to shake my hand. We’ll be doing more than that in the next hour. If we can make it that long.

  “Anna Moore,” I respond huskily, my eyes taking him in. Every single part of him.

  “What are you drinking?” He leans toward me. His mouth is close to my ear, I can feel his hot breath on my neck. I’m going to jump him right here if he doesn’t move away a few inches.

  “Jack, straight up.” I smile and while we’re in the bar, we’re just two people wildly attracted to one another.

  He leans in and whispers in my ear. “One drink, then we go back to my hotel.” That’s it for me. I’m almost coming right there. But I have my mask on. I just turn my head slightly and smile. Just enough for him to know that is exactly what we’ll be doing.

  My drink arrives; he pays by throwing down a couple of bills from the wad he pulls out of his pocket. By the looks of things, he has at least a few hundred dollars on him.

  He stands and the second I’ve slammed my glass on the bar, he grabs me by the hand and leads me outside with a sense of urgency. We both know what’s coming. Hopefully us, a few times. The heat in his touch is extraordinary. He looks down at where our hands are linked and looks at me straight in the eyes.

  “How?” He’s a man of very few words, which is good. But I’m not here for words tonight.

  “Wait, where’s your hotel?” I stop us right outside the bar on the side walk.

  “The Hilton, one block over.” That heat emanating off him is damaging my control. I need to calm my body before I lose my mind and drop my mask.

  I still need to be aware of my surroundings, and I’m always on alert. I break the connection between our hands and try to think clearly.

  “I’ll meet you there. I don’t want to leave my car here so I’ll drive over and park under the hotel. What’s your room number?” Good, my mind’s coming out of the fog created by Ben Pearson, starting to think again. It’s accessing all the information around me.

  For someone like me, danger lurks everywhere and I don’t want myself or this gorgeous man at risk because I’m not on my game for a few moments. Once we’re in the hotel room though, the fun can certainly begin.

  Ben pulls out a hotel card key. He places it in my hand and mumbles, “Room 147.” Then he steps right up to me and smashes his lips on mine. One hand comes up to the back of my head to hold it in place. His other hand slides down my side and firmly grabs onto my hip. His tongue is dancing around in my mouth and I’m letting him explore. I nip his bottom lip and he grumbles from deep inside his chest.

  Our kiss is becoming more passionate. If we don’t stop this soon, we’ll be putting on a show for everyone. I pull away and he looks at me through hooded eyes that have totally dilated. They’re almost completely black with lust. He turns to leave but stops himself a few steps away. “Don’t be late. You have ten minutes.” And with those words, he ambles away toward his hotel.

  I’m so desperate for his touch right this minute, focusing is difficult. But I have to. I go to my Mercedes and head for the Hilton Hotel. Room 147 is going around in my head. Room 147. 147. Shit, 147. Roman Murphy was Hit 147 today. Wait, what? My brain’s turning and turning and I can’t shut it off. 147 is the room number of the sexiest man I’ve ever met and the total of my kills. This has got to be a coincidence. Doesn’t it?

  Within minutes I’m in the parking garage of the Hilton Hotel. I’ve been here before, but only for a ‘job interview’.

  I make my way to room 147 and don’t even bother knocking. I stand outside the room for thirty seconds just composing myself. Breathe Anna.

  I use the key Ben gave me and open the door. As the door closes behind me I’m thrown up against the wall. I didn’t even see Ben coming. His lips are all over me. His hands are roving all over my body at the same time. His body has me pinned up against the door. I can feel his erection pressing into my groin. He’s trying to get as much friction between us as possible.

  I rip his shirt off; there’s no time for pleasantries. The shirt’s buttons fly off in all different directions. It’s raw and needy and hot. He has unzipped my dress. I’m making quick work of his zipper and he wiggles his hips so his trousers fall to the floor where we’re standing.

  My dress falls into the same heap as his trousers, joined shortly by the ruined shirt I push off his shoulders. We break our kiss, and he stands back to look at me while I lean against the wall enjoying my view of his body.

  His boxers are still on, but I can see every muscle. He’s truly God-like. His shoulders show his strength. His chest is defined, his abs a perfect six-pack with a sinful V that leads to the place I’m longing for. His thighs are thick and his legs are toned. I lick my lips knowing very soon I’ll be able to drag my tongue across his entire body.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Anna. What you’ve done to me tonight is…” He s
hakes his head and can’t quite finish the sentence. He grabs for me as I lunge for him. His hands go straight for my panties and he shreds them. He rips them off and throws the scrappy little piece of lace to the floor.

  Ben’s hands find and unfasten the clasp of my strapless bra and he tosses it across the room. He’s ravaging me. The need he’s showing me tells me he can’t get close to me quick enough. I push his boxers down and his cock springs to life. He’s a good nine inches and I hope he knows how to use it. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist.

  “Wait, you need a condom.” I’m breathless, but my brain is still thinking safety first.

  “I don’t have one,” he says, still licking my neck.

  “I do.” I slide down and get my clutch and pull a condom out. The look on his face is one of surprise. I knew what I wanted from tonight and came fully prepared. I give him the silver foil packet. He tears it open and rolls it on. The moment he’s covered I’m pushed up against the wall again. I manage to wrap my legs around his waist and lock my feet together. With one stroke, he’s thrusting into me with urgency.

  “Anna.” He breathes heavily into my ear. His breaths are ragged, labored and loud. He feels wonderful.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says.

  “Shut up and fuck me hard,” I say as I capture his mouth with mine. He’s using the wall to prop me up as he brings his hand between us to make quick circles on my clit.

  “Faster, harder,” I growl at him. I’m bouncing on his cock and his hand is making my clit sing.

  “Anna, I’m close. You need to come now.” His breath is strained, he can barely speak.

  I erupt around his cock and he growls from deep inside his chest. Three more thrusts and he’s done too.

  We’ve made our way over to the bed. It’s a king size and it’s comfortable, but of course it’s nothing like I’m used to. We’re lying in bed just touching, kissing and making small talk.

  “Where are you from, Anna Moore?” Ben asks, playing with my hair. Mmm, it feels nice how he’s gently running his fingers through it.

  “Florida.” It’s a lie, but it’s my standard answer. No one needs to know anything about me.

  “Ben Pearson, tell me something about you.”

  I’m lying back enjoying his gentle touch. I ask because I don’t think it’s nice to say, “Thanks for the fuck, see you later.” And really, I like this man. So I’m thinking I might stay and have another round with him. I have all night actually. I’m not leaving for Minnesota until the morning, so I can take my time here with him.

  “Well, as you know, my name’s Ben Pearson. The girl at the bar tonight is my sister Emily and that other guy’s her husband, Thomas. I also have another sister. Her name is Claire and she and her husband Jeremy live in New York. Emily and Thomas live here in Salt Lake City and I’m here visiting them from Minnesota. I don’t like staying with them because frankly, I don’t want to. I’m thirty-three years old, never been married, don’t have any kids,” he finishes.

  He maneuvers his body, closer to me and kisses my shoulder. His lips are alternating between kissing and nipping all around my collar bone and my neck. I start moaning, because the feeling is sensational. I can feel heat start to pool in my pussy again and if he continues this, it won’t be long before I’m straddling his hips.

  “I’m the Police Chief in St. Cloud, Minnesota,” he says. I freeze. I literally stop moving and can’t quite wrap my brain around what he’s just blurted out. He notices my body has become rigid and he immediately stops his love play. “What’s wrong?” he asks, genuinely concerned about how my body has reacted.

  “You live in St. Cloud and you’re the Police Chief there? Wow, I actually know that town. I passed through there once for work. I was on my way to Minneapolis and stopped in St. Cloud. It’s a lovely place, looked very quiet.” I don’t say anything else.

  But in my mind, thousands of thoughts run through. Thoughts of Henry, of our old home, of the shooting range, and so much more. I get up abruptly and hurry to the bathroom. I close the door, lock it, quickly turn the shower on, and step inside. And for the first time in thirteen years, I let go.

  I start to cry.

  The water’s pounding on my body and the heat’s washing away all the emotions that roared into me since Ben told me he’s the St. Cloud Police Chief. I have my moment. I hear Ben at the door knocking and asking me if I’m okay, and I quickly finish the rest of my shower.

  I grab one of the luxurious towels in the bathroom and wrap it around myself. As I unlock the door and step outside, I see Ben’s lying back in bed, his delectable torso exposed. His stomach has those beautiful ripples, and his arms behind his head accentuate his muscles. His deep blue eyes look at me with worry and something else that might be hurt.

  “Thank you for a lovely time, Ben.” I start this awkward goodbye as I reach for my dress.

  “It really has been great. I enjoyed myself very much,” I say, putting my dress back on. I take a few steps over to the bed. Ben’s sitting up, ready to pounce in case I make my move to leave.

  I bend down and stop millimeters from his lips. I can feel that spark jumping up from his lips across to mine. It’s like a live wire exposed directly over our lips and flows deep down into my core. But I can’t be here with him. This is way too risky. He’s the St. Cloud Police Chief.

  I lean down a bit further and kiss him. Not gentle and sweet but rough, hard, with determination. His arms are tugging at me, he wants me back in the bed. I’m feeling it too, because it’s near impossible to leave this man. But I break the kiss and stand straight.

  “Wait,” he says as he stands, grabbing at my arm. “Please, you don’t need to leave. Have dinner with me tomorrow night. Please.” He sounds almost desperate. “Anna, I really like you. You can’t tell me you don’t feel what I’ve been feeling. There’s something magical about us. There’s a spark that just keeps jumping every time I touch you. It’s like we fit together. Tell me you feel it. Tell me I’m not imagining it. This is crazy,” he stops. He runs his hands through his hair tugging at it. “Just, don’t go. I’ve never felt like this for anyone in my life. What we have…” He trails off, not composed enough to articulate what he wants.

  I need to break this off. As difficult as it is, I need to walk away. I know this is what’s best. I can’t be real with this beautiful man; I can’t open up to him. I just can’t let him into my world.

  I stand straight. “Goodbye, Ben,” I say softly and turn to leave. I reach the door and Ben grabs my shoulders, spins me around, and slams me back against the door.

  “You can’t deny this.” His tongue is licking lightly over my neck, he’s peppering me with small, gentle kisses over my jaw. “Please, give me your number.” He’s pressing himself into me.

  I push him away and with no more words, I open the door and leave. This is the first time in thirteen years I feel regret or sadness.

  I return to my Salt Lake City apartment, trying to compose myself and make my brain work through everything that’s happened since Bar X. How bizarre is it to have this most amazing man come into my life, only to find he’s the Police Chief of the St. Cloud Police Department?

  As I start trying to make sense of the situation my secure line rings. This only means one thing. I have a ‘job interview’. I reach for the phone and pick it up.

  “15,” I answer it. 15 is the name I’m known by. Why 15? That was when my life changed. My mask has slipped back into place and I’m all about business now.

  “Firestone Building. Level 10. 0600.” They’re my only instructions. These instructions come from the same person who always provides them. My Agent. He’s the one who sets up these ‘job interviews’. He’s been setting them up ever since I found him, shortly after I killed Damon and Nox.

  He knows nothing about me except this one number and my bank details. I have his bank details which I use to transfer his commissions. He asks me nothing; I ask him nothing. But I know exactly who he i
s and where he lives. He knows nothing personal about me. He only knows me by my professional name: 15.

  I glance at the clock and see it’s one in the morning, and I have an interview in five hours. So I have another shower and use it to symbolically wash away everything that’s happened since I put a bullet through Roman Murphy’s head. I will my body to relax.

  Once the shower’s over, I dry my hair and get into my pajamas. I head to bed and check on my Glocks in the bed side table. They’re loaded and ready to go. I’ll never be caught again the way I was thirteen years ago, the night my Dad was killed. Sleep takes me fast tonight. I dream of a beautiful man, with dark short hair, deep blue eyes, perfect lips and a hard, muscled body.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  Beep.

  I hit the alarm and turn it off. It’s only four in the morning. I need to get up and get ready for my ‘job interview’. But instead I lay in bed and my mind’s taken over by thoughts of Ben Pearson. My stomach starts to tighten, my pussy’s beginning to moisten and my heart’s palpitating. I look over at the clock and it reads 4:20 a.m. Shit! I’ve already lost twenty minutes. I leap out of bed and start getting ready. I need to stop thinking about Ben Pearson.

  I make my way down to the garage and take the Toyota this time. I really don’t want to draw attention to myself on the way to a job interview.

  I arrive at Firestone Building and head up to level ten. I’m here at 5:05. Being early gives me time to set up traps, recordings and check the building. I’ve only just finished the traps when the door opens at 5:45. There’s nothing on this floor except two sofas facing one another. I have my Glocks in the holsters under my jacket.

  Typically, when I arrive at job interviews, my guns are usually taken from me and given to my ‘employer’ until we establish the money details. Then I’m given the information I require for my next target. I’m sitting on the sofa staring at the door.