Lace and Bullets: A Hitman Romance

by Marie Carnay

  “When did you see your parents?”

  Mia ran her tongue over her lip. “Sometimes one of them would make it home on a Saturday. We might go to the park for an hour. Or have lunch.” She shifted on the chair. Suddenly she felt so very exposed.

  Damien reached out and brushed her hair off her face. “You should still be grateful. You had a roof over your head. Food to eat. Clean clothes.”

  Mia frowned. “You didn’t?”

  He pulled back as if he’d been burned. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  Damien stared at her and for a moment, she saw the kid inside of him. The young, wide-eyed kid who hadn’t been cared for at all.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I never knew my parents. Grew up in foster care. In and out of juvie.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Juvenile detention.”

  “Oh.” Mia leaned closer. “How’d you end up with the cartel?”

  “They took us in. Fed us, clothed us. It was better than the streets.”

  Mia frowned. “Who’s us?”

  Damien stood up like a rocket. “Enough talking. I’ve got to take a piss. Don’t move.”

  Mia watched him walk away. Part of her wanted to stay, get him to open up and share his life with her. She could see so much more than anger behind the wall he’d built around himself.

  But while they had been talking, she’d gotten a hand free. It wasn’t time to fall for a hitman, no matter how vulnerable he seemed in the moment.

  She had some serious running to do.

  7

  DAMIEN

  Damien slammed his fist into the dresser. The whole piece of furniture rattled and wobbled and threatened to collapse. Just like his self-control.

  Damn this woman. She’d gotten into his head. Turned on his feelings. Christ. When did he let that happen?

  Feelings were for dead men. Men who didn’t have rap sheets and police files and blood on their hands. Feelings got you killed.

  He paced back and forth in the bedroom, trying to shove it all out of his mind.

  Her gentle voice slipped from her lips like silk. Her big brown eyes looked up at him like he was a person instead of a tool. He wanted to pin her body to the floor and ravage her.

  Damien scrubbed his lips with his hand. He couldn’t get her taste off his skin. All strawberries and cream. Fucking innocence in a damn bottle. She was everything he hated. Everything he couldn’t have.

  It didn’t matter that her childhood sucked. It wasn’t as bad as his.

  Mia Davenport was his chance. He would take her to Marcelo and strike up a deal. The truth and his debts repaid for the only witness to the DA’s murder. The only person who knew the DA’s secrets. After that, Mia would be on her own.

  The thought sent a shudder through him. Damien knew what they would do to her. He knew how far they would go to break her. He’d seen it first hand. First Marcelo would hook her on something good—heroin or meth.

  Then he’d use it like bait. You do this baby, I’ll give you what you need. When Mia had been all used up, when there wasn’t even a shell of a girl left to abuse, he’d let her overdose and throw her out in the trash.

  Just like Melanie.

  Jesus. He was sending her straight to hell. But he didn’t have a choice. Without her, he would never really know.

  Damien checked his watch. Four in the morning. Fuck. He’d been up for almost twenty-four hours. He needed some sleep. His eyes burned and his muscles ached with fatigue.

  Could he trust her not to run? If he tied her to the bed, would she still be there in the morning?

  He exhaled and rolled his shoulders back when a thud made him spin. Oh, no.

  Damien tore the bedroom door open and raced into the kitchen. Shit. The chair lay on its side, chain still wrapped around it. No Mia to be seen.

  With a groan of frustration, he tore through the house. She had to still be inside. From the kitchen to the dining room to the living room, Damien raced, eyes darting back and forth. Nothing.

  Down the hall he went, ducking into bedrooms, closets, bathrooms. He threw open the last door and almost shouted in relief. Mia hadn’t made it outside.

  Her legs and ass hung out of the too-tall window as she kicked and wiggled. She wasn’t tall enough or strong enough to launch herself out. He wrapped his hands around her shins and she screamed. He hauled her back in and she kicked out.

  Something inside Damien snapped. He grabbed her by her wrists and spun her around. She couldn’t leave him.

  Her back hit the wall and he crushed his weight against her. “What are you doing?”

  “Looks like I’m getting caught.”

  “I told you not to run.” It took all his self-control not to shout.

  “I had to try. When you hand me over, I’ll be dead.” Her breath came hot and fast and every inhalation pressed her tits into his chest.

  His cock throbbed inside his pants and he ground himself against her. Her eyes widened. Her lips fell open.

  Visions of her on her knees, his cock buried down her throat, filled his mind. Fuck. She’d grip him like velvet. He knew it. His hold on her wrists tightened as he pressed them into the wall beside her head.

  Damien stroked the skin above the rope still tied around one wrist. “Couldn’t get this off?”

  “Maybe I wanted it on.”

  He inhaled through his nose and leaned closer. She shouldn’t kid about wanting him. One look at her bound and waiting like that and he had to fight to keep control.

  Her lip trembled and the urge to kiss her into submission overcame him. He wanted her naked and moaning. Coming from his tongue and his hand and his cock. Begging for him to plant his seed deep inside her.

  “You make me think very dirty things, Mia Davenport.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Do I scare you?” He bent to nuzzle the bare skin of her neck.

  “Yes.”

  “Do I turn you on?” He blew hot air across her collarbone.

  “You shouldn’t.”

  He nosed the too-big sweatshirt off her shoulder. “But do I?” His lips grazed her skin.

  “Yes.”

  Damien looked up into her eyes. “Ever want to do something you know is wrong? Something that will wreck you, tear you apart, make you want to crawl into a hole and die?”

  Her eyes clouded over and her cheeks flushed. “Yes.”

  “Me too.”

  He leaned closer, his lips almost touching hers. She quivered.

  Her voice came out in a whisper. “What happens if you give in?”

  He smiled. “You go straight to hell.”

  As soon as their lips collided, Damien knew the truth. They weren’t in hell. They couldn’t be. Not with the way she fit against him and the way she kissed him back. She was as desperate and hungry as he was. More.

  She moaned. He licked. She trembled. He took.

  Kiss after kiss on her lips, her cheek, down her soft neck. Too many clothes. She had on way too many fucking clothes. His hands slipped beneath the sweatshirt.

  Mia cried out as he found her breasts beneath the fabric. Warm and luscious in his hands. He stroked the soft peaks until her nipples stood out, hard and begging.

  Her hands slipped behind his head, the rope he’d used to bind her still dangling from her wrist. She arched into him. “Please, Damien.”

  He stilled. “Please, what?”

  “Don’t stop.”

  “Wasn’t planning on it.” He kissed her silent as he reached up to take her hand. With one hand holding the binding, he reached into his jeans and pulled out a pocket knife. He flicked out the blade.

  Her pulse raced beneath his thumb. “What are you doing?”

  “Setting you free.” With a single cut, the rope fell away.

  The knife slipped into his pocket as her hands inched beneath his shirt, fingers running over his abs and up his chest. She moaned as he grabbed the sweatshirt, gasped as he tore it from h
er body.

  Her tits bounced in the air as the fabric ripped over them. Spectacular. Firm and round and just right to suckle. Damien bent his head and captured Mia’s nipple. She arched her back and wove her fingers through his hair.

  God. She was incredible. So responsive and wild. Uninhibited and free. He needed to taste her. To dive between her legs and lap up all her slick heat. With her hands still roaming over his body, he yanked open the too-big jeans. They fell to the floor in a heap.

  Hmm. Hips he could latch onto. Pussy he couldn’t wait to devour. Damien grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. With a flick of his wrists, Mia flew back and landed on the bed. Her ass hit the middle and she bounced up and down.

  Fuck, yes. He dove after her, chasing her down as she backpedaled on the mattress. Her back found the wall and he grabbed her by the knees. He spread her wide open.

  Damn. Pink and glistening, her slick heat called to him. Begged for his tongue to pillage. Plunder. Make her scream.

  He leaned closer.

  “You shouldn’t—I mean you don’t have to—”

  Damien didn’t let her finish. His tongue lapped up her slit and Mia stopped talking. He flicked her clit and she moaned.

  She bucked on the bed and he pinned her down. His hands gripped her inner thighs and Mia reached for his head. Her fingers fumbled over his scalp and pulled him closer.

  Yes. That’s it. Ride my tongue. Damien licked and swirled his tongue around her clit, drinking in her nectar. Damn was she sweet. Her sex was as innocent and fucking pure as she was. The opposite of him.

  Where he was rough and dirty, she was smooth and delicate. Where he was hard and violent, she was soft and gentle. Her body trembled and he dipped lower, thrusting his tongue inside her, groaning as her muscles clamped around him and pulled him deeper.

  He couldn’t wait to fuck her. With a pussy that tight, he’d see stars.

  Gone were thoughts about the cartel, Marcelo, even Melanie. All Damien could think about was Mia’s hot little body and how he wanted to drown in it. He’d been on the verge of collapse an hour before, but there was no stopping him now.

  He would rock her world with more orgasms than she could take. Fill her up and satisfy every last need she had. They could worry about tomorrow in the morning.

  “Damien. Please…” Mia whimpered above him and he released her leg to slip a finger inside her. Stroking her inner wall, he watched from the bed as she arched and moaned.

  Her eyelids fluttered, her mouth fell open, and when he licked across her clit, she fell apart.

  Damn.

  Flushed cheeks, arched back, body frozen as pleasure coursed through her. No woman he’d been with had ever been so open. So raw. It had always been a means to an end. A quick fuck, a fast orgasm, and a gotta go, see you later.

  Never this. Mia fell back on the bed, her hair fanned out around her, her arms thrown wide. She was an angel and he didn’t deserve her. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. At least for tonight.

  Damien tugged his T-shirt off and threw it on the floor before crawling up the mattress. His shoes landed in a pair of thuds at the foot of the bed.

  Mia rose up, but he pushed her back down.

  “We’re nowhere close to done, babe. Don’t move.”

  She reached for him anyway. “Don’t order me around.” Her hands landed on his belt and she ripped it open. Her fingers unfastened his button and pulled the zipper of his jeans down.

  Her hand slipped beneath his boxers and Damien let out a low hiss. “What are you doing?”

  Mia grinned. “Stroking your dick, I hope.”

  Damien laughed. It was the second time she had managed it in a matter of hours. He never laughed anymore.

  “Like what you feel?”

  She bit her lip.

  “What is it?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Are you…um…Do you know…”

  He kissed her silent before nudging her head to the side. His lips found her ear. “I’m clean.”

  “Do you have a condom?” Her hand ran up and down his shaft and Damien shuddered.

  “No.”

  She turned her head and found his eyes. “Then make it count.”

  8

  MIA

  She didn’t know what had come over her. Good girl Mia never had unprotected sex. But she was about to die, right? It didn’t matter what she did. No matter how many times she tried to get away, he caught her.

  Damien leaned into her hand as she stroked up and down. Blame it on extenuating circumstances, but she was going to take the chance. She wanted to feel a man come inside her. She wanted to know what it was like at least once.

  That it was the man who had kidnapped her—the one who she watched put a bullet in another man’s chest as he lay dying—should terrify her.

  It didn’t.

  Every touch of his lips on her skin burned. Every graze of his fingers up her thigh turned her molten. She wanted his cock to slice through her heat. She wanted his body pinning her to the mattress.

  It was dirty and wrong and so fucked up, but she wanted it to be Damien.

  He pushed his jeans and boxers down and Mia stole a peek. Whoa. He wasn’t just shredded with more muscles than she’d ever seen in the flesh; her sexy hitman was hung. Her fingers stroked up and down his veiny length and he groaned.

  She rose up, ready to take him inside her mouth, when he pushed her back down. “No.”

  “But I want to.”

  “I have something else in mind.”

  Before she could say another word, Damien slipped an arm under her waist and flipped her over. She landed face first on the mattress.

  “What are you doing?”

  He ran his hand over the swell of her ass before bringing it back. The smack across her right cheek caught her off guard. The smack across her left sent a shot of pleasure straight to her core.

  “Spanking you. You’ve been a very bad girl, Ms. Davenport.”

  Mia raised her ass off the mattress. “Do I need some more punishment?”

  “Not that kind.” Damien grabbed her by the hips and slid up close. His cock nestled in the crack of her ass, hot and hard.

  Mia ground against him. “Then do it.”

  His hands snaked around her front and pinched her nipples. She cried out.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He rolled them between his fingers.

  “So damn sure.” She twisted her upper body until she could look him in the eye. “I want you to fuck me.”

  He didn’t say another word. Instead, he hoisted her up by the hips until her ass stuck up in the air and her face mashed into the mattress. “Damn, you’re so wet for me.” His fingers ran through her soaked folds and Mia whimpered.

  “And you taste so damn sweet.” He made the most indecent smacking noises as he licked his fingers clean.

  Mia trembled.

  “Better find something to hold on to, honey.”

  His cock nudged against her entrance and Mia reached for the headboard. Her fingers wrapped around the metal frame and Damien thrust.

  Oh! His cock sank inside her, inch by delicious inch and Mia moaned. Condoms always made sex so boring…so perfunctory.

  This was dangerous.

  Mia’s body wrapped around his thick heat as Damien stretched her open. Deeper and deeper he sunk inside her, his hot shaft melting any hidden resistance. He filled her, dominated her, consumed her from the inside out.

  Just as she thought she couldn’t take any more, his hips met her ass. Oh my God.

  He groaned above her. “You’re so damn tight. I’ll never last.” Damien pulled back and as she reeled from his loss, he thrust. Hard. Quick. Over and over.

  The mattress squeaked, the bed frame shook, and as Damien turned into a piston, Mia came alive. Sure she’d had sex before, but nothing compared to this. Every time he bottomed out, he hit a new place inside her. Filled a new void.

  An orgasm roared to life and she mo
aned in time to Damien’s thrusts, a rolling cadence that ebbed and flowed with the force of his hips. She’d never come vaginally before, but the pleasure built.

  And built.

  Damien groaned behind her, his fingers digging into her skin. As he pumped a final time, his cock thickened inside her. He grunted. Mia glimpsed heaven.

  Her orgasm flooded her senses as Damien flooded her core, pumping his release deep. Her body milked him over and over as pleasure pulsed through her. At last, he collapsed on top of her, slicked in sweat and sexy as hell.

  He was the best lover she’d ever had. The only one who made her come like a comet shooting through space.

  Damien rolled over and planted a kiss on her shoulder. In the morning, he would probably drag her to her doom. But right then, her hitman was the best thing to ever happen to her.

  Mia finally knew what it meant to feel alive.

  * * *

  With a groan, Mia rolled over and reached for the body that had kept her warm all night. All she found were cold sheets.

  She sat up in a rush and fell back on the cushions when the world spun. Ugh. What the hell? The memories of the night came back to her as she squirmed in the bed. She was sore in places she’d never been before.

  Oh. She rose up onto an elbow and blinked her vision into focus. She had slept with Damien. A killer. Her kidnapper. She should be appalled, questioning her own sanity. But the ache between her legs told her it was all worth it. She’d checked a box on her life’s list.

  One that didn’t have anything to do with following in her parents’ footsteps or living up to the world’s expectations. She’d had a night of wild sex with a dangerous man. The thought sent a rush of heat to her lady bits and she bit back a laugh. If he was up for it, she could go for round two right now.

  Add in the pieces of his life that he’d hinted about and Damien hit some chord inside her. Confusion didn’t begin to describe Mia’s emotional state. She was a good girl from a prominent family. She was supposed to finish law school, get a good job, and follow in the tradition of Davenport legal success.

  Bedding a criminal didn’t qualify.