SOLD TO A KILLER: A Hitman Auction Romance

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SOLD TO A KILLER: A Hitman Auction Romance Page 23

by Evelyn Glass


  I thanked God for my years of police training as I lunged towards them, catching one arm and bending it upside their back. The figure let out a screech of pain, and I wrapped my other arm around their neck. They weren’t much bigger than me, so they weren’t too hard to restrain. They pushed back against me, but I held firm, using their weight against them as I moved them towards the chair in the corner of the room.

  Breaker was awake, and snapped on the light next to the bed. He glanced over at us blearily, and as soon as he saw what was going on, all hint of tiredness was wiped from his eyes.

  “Jesus, Angel!” He pushed himself out of bed as I pushed the figure—the man, I was sure now—into the chair and quickly bound his hands with a discarded plastic bag that had come with the takeout order. It wasn’t much, but I’d found that any kind of binding would make someone not fight quite as hard.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, jamming my face right up against the man’s. He was indistinct looking, a slightly dopey face topped with dark hair that caught the light whenever he wriggled in an attempt to put some space between the two of us. Yeah, good luck with that, buddy– he wasn’t going anywhere, not a chance.

  “Tell me!” I snapped again as I started patting him down. I ran my hand into his shirt pocket, and came up blank, but in his pants I came across a small flick–knife.

  “What is this for?” I waved the knife in his face, making sure it came close enough for him to see the glint of the light on the blade. “Were you going to use this on us?”

  “Uh…“ The man finally came out with a noise, and I paused to let him speak. I could see the fear in his eyes, the way they jumped from side to side in an attempt to find a way out of the situation. I felt a small jolt of satisfaction. I’d been in his position, restrained and terrified, only a few days before. In that moment, I was positive he had at least something to do with that. I pulled back a little, playing the good cop for a second. I had done plenty of interrogations in the past, and the right move was to ask him some direct questions now that he was off balance with fear. Give him the space to redeem himself.

  “Who sent you?” I crouched down in front of him so I could look him in the eye, but I kept the knife in plain view, feeling safer than I had since I got here now that I had a weapon to my name.

  “Thaddeus,” he blurted out at last. He squirmed in his seat, and I placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. I had him exactly where I wanted him, and I wasn’t about to let him get away now.

  “Were you sent to take us out?” I continued, my voice quieter. He nodded, not speaking. A little jolt ran through my system. A lot of people had hated me before by virtue of me being a cop, but no–one had actually been sent to kill me before now. We were up to our necks in some serious shit.

  I turned to Breaker, who had been observing the goings–on from the bed with what looked like mild amusement.

  “What do we do with him?” I asked, getting to my feet. I didn’t take my eyes off the intruder, shooting him a couple of hard stares to make it clear that he wasn’t getting away that easily.

  “We need to let him go,” Breaker replied mildly. I widened my eyes and shook my head, rewinding the conversation. I’d obviously misheard something.

  “I’m sorry, what the fuck?” I demanded. “He was here to kill us! And you just want to put him back out on the streets so he can try again?”

  “If Thad finds out that we killed one of his men, then it’s even more of a reason for him to come after us,” he pointed out. “If he really wanted us dead, he would have sent someone who wasn’t going to fuck it up. Or he’d have done it somewhere we don’t naturally have the upper hand. You see?”

  I wrinkled up my nose. Maybe it was just the adrenalin pumping through my veins, but it sounded a little too neat.

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “What’s your name?” Breaker turned to the man. “And tell me the fucking truth.”

  “Damien,” the man replied. He was sitting still in his seat now, shoulders slumped, as though he was resigned to his fate.

  “Yeah, trust me, this guy isn’t a big deal,” Breaker nodded. “I know the kinds of guys they use if they actually want someone dead. Thad was just looking for an excuse to take us out, nothing more.”

  “Jesus,” I raked a hand through my hair agitatedly. “I don’t want to let him go. I don’t want him back on the street.”

  “We have to,” Breaker replied coolly, as though it was obvious. Okay, he was starting to piss me off now. He’d made all this noise about how we were in this together, but now he was acting as though I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I was the cop, after all. I knew this stuff just as well as he did. Maybe better.

  “This is my world, Angel,” he reminded me, as though he was reading my mind. “You have to trust me on this.”

  I watched as he made his way over to the man and pulled the plastic bag off his hands, pulling him to his feet.

  “Any other weapons on you?” The man shook his head. Breaker patted him down quickly, and came up with nothing. “You really think they would have sent along a guy with nothing but a switchblade if they wanted this done properly?” The man glanced between us, then made for the door. I made a grab for him, but he was already out by the time I got there. He slammed the door shut in my face, and I reached for the handle. But Breaker was already holding me back.

  “Let me fucking go!” I snarled, wrenching my shoulder free of his grip.

  “You’ve got to let him get out of here,” Breaker warned. “Angel, listen to me. It’s worse for us if we rough him up, you need to trust me on this one.”

  “What would you know about trust?” I pulled the door open, and he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me backwards.

  “Hey, am I going to need to tie you up?” His tone was light, teasing, but I was pissed as hell, my blood still pulsing loudly around my head.

  “Do you want to?” I snarled, unable to keep a lid on my temper. Everything had happened so quickly, I hadn’t had a chance to process any of it yet. It felt as though my brain was still trying to catch up with my body—so when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back towards the chair, I didn’t fight it. In fact, I found some small part of me enjoying his touch, remembering how I’d craved it the night before as we lay in bed waiting to go to sleep. His breath was hot on my skin as he moved me towards the chair.

  He pushed me back into the seat, and I glared up at him—but my breath was coming faster than before, my fists clenched to stop myself doing god knows what. He grabbed the makeshift restraint I’d constructed for our visitor and swiftly bound my hands on the arms of the chair. I tugged at the plastic; it wasn’t going anywhere. I felt a small surge of excitement in my chest as he came back around, planting a hand on each side of my shoulders and leaning in to make sure that I didn’t miss a damn word that come out of his mouth.

  “We had to let him go, otherwise the two of us would be dead meat,” he explained slowly, as though recounting the facts to an idiot. I screwed up my face at him, pissed that he was talking to me like that.

  “I could have taken him down without a shred of evidence that it was us,” I lifted my chin.

  “Because someone else would have had the motive?” He pointed out. “Come on.”

  “So, what do we do now?” I asked, squirming in my seat a little, back and forth. I was still pissed at the fact we’d let him go, but my head was swirling with something else now, something else entirely—maybe that had been his plan all along.

  “I have some ideas,” he murmured, getting his face up close to mine again before pulling back. He was teasing me. And it was working. I found myself leaning myself forward, pushing myself in his direction, urging him to come back so I could feel him close to me again. I thought about the way his arm felt tossed over me while we were sleeping, how comforting I found it. And now, how much I wanted from him– how just his presence wasn’t enough.

  “Tell
me about them,” I demanded, and he grinned, the corners of his mouth licking up lasciviously into a smile.

  “I wouldn’t want to scandalize you,” he moved close again, letting his breath tickle my ear, then allowing his teeth to drag along my sensitive lobe. I closed my eyes and shifted myself back and forth in my seat, trying to find some relief against the softness of the cushions below me.

  He didn’t move for a moment, and I turned my head, trying to meet his mouth, but he pulled back just far enough to make it impossible. I stared at his lips, remembering how they felt on me, and practically bucked in the chair trying to get closer to him.

  “Not yet,” he murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I was wearing only a large t–shirt that came down to my knees, and I was aware of just how bare my pussy was as he ran his hands down my arms and made my skin prickle with the contact.

  “Just…” I panted, not sure what is was that I wanted him to do but knowing that it was something, and soon. He turned my hand over, exposing my palm, and leaned down to kiss that sensitive spot at the center of it. I sucked in a sharp breath, and watched as he continued to move lower, shifting further and further down my body until he was between my legs.

  He knelt below me, and even though he was the one on the ground, I was the one submitting to him. My chest was heaving up and down, the fear and adrenalin of the invasion matched with the heady arousal of letting him take complete control. This had always been destined to happen again, it had just been a question of how. And it seemed as though he’d spent plenty of time considering that end of the equation.

  He caught the hem of my shirt and began peeling it back, exposing the tops of my thighs, then my hips, and finally, my naked pussy. My fists clenched again as he looked at me. The last time, I had been the one putting myself on display for him, but this time, he was unwrapping me, taking me in for his viewing pleasure. He ran his index finger up the inside of one thigh and back down again, a sharp, sudden movement that burned up my skin like he’d lit a match against me.

  “You’re so wet already,” he murmured, glancing up at me and apparently finding the sight of me, teeth gritted, trying to control myself, amusing. He grinned and moved closer, parting my legs and hovering his mouth so close to my pussy that I could feel his hot breath against me. I let my head dip back, my mind swimming as I tried to keep myself together. This was too much, in the best way possible. I could have asked him to stop, but I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. And, as he finally sealed his lips around my pussy, all thought flooded from my head and I gave myself over to the pleasure of it all.

  I cried out, the sound echoing off the walls around us, as he began by running his flattened tongue from the bottom of my slit to the spot where my lips met again; he let out a small moan, sending vibrations up my cunt and making me squirm in my seat. Then, he moved upwards, sucking lightly on my lips while my fingers flexed against the seat, trying to find something to cling on to. It felt as though the ground might drop out from under me at any second, and I was having trouble keeping myself conscious, all too willing to lose myself completely to the pleasure between my legs.

  Breaker reached around and dug his hands deep into my ass, gripping the flesh and tilting me up towards him so he could taste even more of me. I wanted to reach out, to run my hands through his hair and hold him in place, but I was still tightly bound to the chair and couldn’t move an inch. I had never been more frustrated or turned–on in the same breath, and it was almost agonizingly sweet.

  He finally found my clit, sealing his lips around my sensitive nub and drawing it gently into his mouth. He sucked gently at first, as though warming me up, before he began to lick harder, pressing his tongue against me over and over again. I couldn’t hold back the sounds now, a series of frenzied groans and moans falling from between my lips as he furiously ate me out. I had never had a man want it this badly, never had a man who seemed so determined to push me to the edge of what I could cope with, never had a man so committed to making me come like a demon—

  And, just like that, he stopped. Everything. He let go of my ass, pulled his face back from my pussy, and looked up at me. It took me a second to get my eyes open, but when I did, the sight of him was almost enough to bring me to completion right then and there. His lips were shiny with my wetness, his hair messy, and his eyes black and hungry and hot as hell.

  “What…why…?” I managed as he got to his feet and began unbuckling his pants.

  “I want to feel you come,” he murmured as he grabbed a condom from the side drawer. “I want to feel it on my cock.”

  His voice was low and ragged around the edges, and who was I to resist him? I pulled my legs back as best I could, exposing myself, and clenching my fists on the arms of the seat as he leaned down to position himself over my pussy. The head of his sheathed cock nudged at my slit, and I gasped, straining to reach out towards him.

  “You want this?” He asked, his eyes scanning mine. I could only nod. “Tell me. Tell me, now.”

  “I want you,” I blurted out, finally managing to speak. “I want–“

  Before I could finish what I was saying, he thrust up inside of me in one sharp motion. I let out a gasp, rocking back in the seat. He felt just as good as he had in the bathroom, but this time I could see his face, see the way it twisted up in pleasure as he pushed himself into me. I could smell myself on his lips, and I strained my head forward, trying to kiss him, begging him to finally give me what he wanted. He held out for a split–second longer, and then, at last, our lips met. His tongue was inside my mouth, one hand cupping my head to keep me steady and the other shoving my leg back as far as it would go to allow him even deeper penetration. I curled the other one around his waist, pulling him in, and lost myself to the feeling of his mouth up against my own.

  “You taste good,” I murmured, and he brushed his lips across my jaw and down towards my neck. I could feel his stubble against my skin, rubbing it raw, and craved more at once. The way he took control…I had never felt anything like it before. I was so used to being in charge that handing over this situation to him was addictively intoxicating.

  “Same to you,” he replied, as he picked up the pace and thrust into me with even more abandon. He was rough, but controlled. He knew exactly how hard to push me, how fast to fuck me, how deep to go, and all I could do was sit there and take it. Not that I was complaining.

  My fingers flexed back and forth from where they were bound. All I wanted in the world was to touch him, to run my hands over his body and feel his muscles beneath his shirt. I wanted him naked, wanted to take him in, wanted to lose myself to the sight and the smell and the taste of him. But when he took control, I would have to wait. The promise that this could happen again was enough for me. And next time, I would make sure that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  Before long, I felt myself edging again, my body growing tense as he slowed his pace and thrust inside me slowly and deeply, as though luxuriating in the sensation. He must have seen it in my face, because he reached down and skimmed his thumb lightly against my clit. My jaw fell open, my eyes glazing over as I managed to force myself to look up at him.

  “You want to come?” he asked, as though I needed his permission. Without thinking, I nodded.

  “Then come,” he ordered, leaning down to my ear and biting it, hard. I had never realized how hot it was before, to have someone tell me when I could finish, but as soon as the words escaped his lips, it hit me.

  Wave after wave of it, my pussy tightening around his cock, my clit pulsing beneath his thumb. Every muscle in my body seemed to release and tense again, my jaw chattering as the feeling squirmed out from between my legs to send every part of me into a frenzy. I wasn’t able to make a noise, but I didn’t need to—he could read my pleasure etched on to my face. My head slumped back as he continued to fuck me, the grip I had with my leg loosening. I was completely and utterly spent, and it felt incredible.

  A few seconds later, he thrust inside me one
last time, pushing himself deep—and then he came, letting out a satisfied grunt against my ear and slowly withdrawing from my cunt. He unrolled the condom and disposed of it quickly, leaving me still tied to the chair. I tucked my legs up underneath me, feigning modesty, as I waited for him to return. I couldn’t think straight, the blood still slowly returning to my brain after it had all rushed down and between my legs.

  He re–appeared, pulling up his pants and eyeing me, amused.

  “You going to let me go?” I pointed up, jiggling my wrists up and down against my restraints. He paused for a moment. He looked me up and down slowly, the expression on his face enough to send a flush up my neck. “What is it?” Even now, completely sated, I found myself growing hot beneath his gaze.

  “I just think I like you like this,” he remarked. “No trouble when you’re all tied up.”

 

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