by RC Boldt
Bracing myself with my hands, I begin to work myself over him. His fingers tighten as he guides me, working in tandem to pierce me with upward thrusts each time I sink back down. “Goddammit, Kate. You’re so fucking wet.” His voice is thick with desire, eyes locked on where we’re joined. “Look at that greedy pussy, taking my cock like that.” His last few words are spoken in a choked voice as if he’s barely maintaining control.
My nipples tighten at his words, and I turn my eyes down to lock on the sight of him so slick from me. The sight of where he spears me with his thick length causes more wetness to seep from me. His low groan tells me he felt it.
When he pinches my clit between his thumb and finger, I let out a loud gasp, my nipples hardening into tighter points. Hunter’s dark eyes snare mine while he toys with my clit before using his thumb to apply the perfect amount of pressure and circle it. Each time my breath hitches in my throat, his nostrils flare, eyes blazing with molten heat, the cords in his neck appearing more strained.
His hips buck, muscles in his biceps flexing as he drives upward, so thick and hard inside me. Heavy-lidded eyes hold my gaze as he grits out, “You feel so fucking good.” Another two deep thrusts upward. “Your bare pussy wrapped around me like a vise.”
I clench around him in response, and his cock jerks before I feel him thicken inside me. That, combined with his thumb steadily working my clit, has me tipping over the edge and shattering.
His other hand moves to the back of my head, guiding my mouth to his in a kiss that’s equally devouring and devastating, his hips thrusting up, working me through my release as I spasm around his hard length. Our mouths meld, the kiss turning desperate and needy before he rolls me onto my back and drives in and out of me in deep, possessive thrusts until his entire body stiffens, going still. He breaks our kiss to bury his face in my neck, expelling a low groan before liquid warmth fills me.
Chest rising and falling with labored breaths, I trace the curves of muscle and the scattering of scars along his shoulders and back and close my eyes against the onslaught of emotion battering away at me. I could say this was me needing human touch after going without for so long. I could say it’s simply a matter of release. I could say that any man would have sufficed tonight.
I could. But I’d be lying.
Because there’s a faint whisper in the depths of my mind that tells me Hunter will change things for me.
Irrevocably.
31
Hunter
When I ease my weight off her, an odd sense of loss plagues me. Dammit, what is it about this woman that compels me to keep her as close as possible?
It’s unnerving as hell.
Settling on my back, I stare up at the ceiling as my breathing gradually calms. I can practically feel her anxiety brewing from where she lies beside me. The silence that hangs between us like a dark storm cloud is nearly suffocating.
She’s about to get up and leave—I sense it. We’re so similar in this instance, each of us treading in foreign territory. I should encourage her to go. Shit, I should get up right now, put my clothes on, and give her an excuse that I need to walk Kujo. That’s the smartest choice because nothing can come of this.
Nothing can ever come of this.
I turn my head on the pillow to face her. She’s staring up at the ceiling, a severe crease between her brows. When she clears her throat, I know she’s preparing to offer the out we both need to take.
“I, uh…” Her voice is barely an audible wisp of sound, and my eyes are drawn to her mouth and the way it forms each word. “I should go.”
“Yeah.” It’s as if I’ve reached inside to rip the single syllable from my throat. Painful as fuck.
She gives a little nod, and when she shifts the slightest fraction to move off the bed, the demand rushes past my lips. “Wait.”
Her head whips around to peer at me in surprise, and, yeah, the urgency in my tone is definitely a little over the top. Shit. I drag a hand along my jawline, internally warring with myself. I’ve already done something colossally stupid. But it’s only one night, so why not make the most of it before we say goodbye for real?
Deep down, I know it’s a load of bullshit rivaling the size of Mount Kilimanjaro, but it’s only for tonight. Just. Tonight.
“Stay.” My voice grows hoarse when I tack on, “Please.” It’s something I haven’t done in a long damn time; asked a woman to stay.
Her green eyes study me, brows pinched together, and I’m slammed with the staggering realization that for the first time, I crave to confess everything to her. To tell her what I really am—who I really am. But I can’t. Definitely not when her expression softens into one that appears almost…affectionate. Because I know the facts.
Monsters like me don’t get women like her.
“You sure?” The vulnerability and doubt threaded in her tone have me reaching for her, cupping the side of her face before I lean in and press a light kiss to her lips.
“I’m sure.” Landing another kiss, I murmur against her mouth, “There’s still a lot we didn’t get to do.”
Breaking the kiss, I grab my shirt off the floor before settling between her legs. Gently, I wipe her clean with the soft fabric before tossing it aside. Nudging her upper thighs farther apart, I revel in the way her breath catches, the way her pulse flutters in her throat beneath the ink of her tattoo when I drape her legs over my shoulders.
I lower my head and trail my tongue along her folds. Body arching, she fists the sheets when I drive my tongue deep inside her while I thumb her clit in circles. The taste of her on my tongue sends a surge of arousal shooting straight to my cock.
Her hips move ever so slightly, as though she’s restraining herself from letting go and working herself over my tongue. When I draw back, a needy whimper falls from her lips, and it sends satisfaction coursing through me. I gently graze my teeth over her clit and her body jerks in response.
“Kate,” I whisper against her pussy, waiting for her eyes to flutter open and meet mine. “Don’t hold back.” It’s a command, and we both know it. “I want you to fuck my face with your pussy.” Goose bumps rise on her skin and she shivers. “You got that?” I raise an eyebrow in challenge, and her mouth parts, tongue sneaking out to wet her bottom lip before she gives a quick nod.
I trace a finger along her wet folds and ease it inside, knuckle deep. The fluttering of her inner muscles makes me groan, and without breaking eye contact, I lower my face to capture her clit between my lips, sucking gently, then flicking it with my tongue.
Her eyes blaze as she watches me, her gaze trained on every lick, every kiss, every languid movement of my finger in and out of her sweet pussy. She lets out a sound of disappointment when I withdraw my finger, but it soon morphs into a gasp when I replace it with my tongue, fusing my mouth over her and using my thumb to toy with her swollen clit.
Something in my eyes must remind her of my demands because she tips her head back on the pillow, eyes drifting closed, and arches into my touch, pressing against my face to chase her release.
Driving my tongue in and out of her pussy, sucking gently on her outer lips, I roll her clit between my thumb and finger before tugging on it gently. Kate’s body tenses, and she urges me to press my tongue deeper inside her slick heat. Her hips arch before her movements become choppy, more frantic with need as she nears her release.
“Hunter.” The way she says my name, needy and breathless, has my dick aching to be inside her again.
Not now, though. This is what I’ve been dying to do since the other night. To have her ride my face and tongue like she is. To feel her pussy grow tighter the closer she gets.
Pressing my thumb down with a shade more pressure, I circle her clit twice before pinching it slightly and giving it a sharp tug. She stiffens a second before letting out a keening cry, and a powerful shudder racks her body as her release ripples through her.
Once her thighs go lax, I ease my tongue from her, placing a light kiss to her puss
y and to the inside of each thigh before collapsing back on the bed beside her.
It’s awkward since my dick is saluting the world, but it can’t be helped since I just feasted on the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had. When I run my tongue along my bottom lip, the lingering taste of her drives me so fucking wild it has my cock jerking, and I bite back a groan.
Goddamn. I wrap my hand tight around the base of my dick in an attempt to get some damn control over my libido.
“You okay over there?”
The softly spoken question, threaded with a hint of mischief, has me turning to look at her. Even before this, she struck me with her understated beauty, but now… With her hair mussed and those heavy-lidded eyes, she looks well-fucked, and it sends a surge of male pride flooding through me.
“Yeah.” I’ll be better than fucking okay if she keeps looking at me like this.
Green eyes drop to my dick before refocusing on me, her gaze rapidly darkening with intent. “Hunter?” Her voice is husky, and without breaking eye contact, she moves toward me, dropping a soft kiss directly over my hip bone. Her breath washes over my skin, and my cock twitches.
“Yeah?” I grit out when she drops another kiss closer to my groin, mere centimeters away from where I’m dying for her to put her mouth next.
She hovers, her lips the barest fraction away from the tip of my cock. Eyes blazing with lust, she whispers the words I said to her mere moments ago. “Don’t hold back.”
Then she takes me deep inside her hot mouth.
32
Kate
I rouse slowly, first noticing the sensation of my skin against the sheets. Hunter’s masculine and clean scent clings to the cotton, blending with the telltale aroma of sex.
Then I realize I’m in bed alone. Blinking open my eyes, adjusting to the light streaming through the window blinds, I sit up with an alarming jolt at how late I’ve slept. As I check the time on my watch, dismay settles in deep. Eight o’clock in the morning. Shit.
I can’t recall the last time I slept this late. And I still have so much to do. So much research. Surveillance. Planning. Jumping out of bed, I rush to pull on my clothes and boots. After sliding on my glasses, I hesitantly walk out of the bedroom, listening for any sound of his voice or movement, but it’s silent. There’s no sign of him or Kujo, so I assume they must have gone for a walk.
Spotting my jacket where it lies undisrupted from last night, I tug it on and quickly double-check my sheathed knife is still inside one of the hidden inner pockets.
At the sight of his makeshift desk area off to the side of the living room, I can’t help but smile at the rudimentary setup. I turn to head to the kitchen for a glass of water, but something on the desk snags my attention. There’s a file beneath the closed laptop with only the first three letters visibly scrawled in bold, masculine writing. ASH.
I go still, wrestling with my curiosity. It’s not right to rifle through someone’s belongings; it’s a betrayal all its own. Yet something compels me to glance around his place once more to ensure I’m still alone before stepping closer to the laptop. When I carefully lift it up to see the rest of the file’s label, my heart literally skips a beat.
ASHFORD, C.
With far more control than I feel, I lower the laptop in place exactly how it had been and back away from it, eyeing the makeshift workstation warily as if there’s a chance it might explode if I move too hastily. My entire body pulses with adrenaline and shame.
What have I done? Did I just make the biggest mistake and put everything at risk? My stomach lurches sickly at the prospect of failing my family.
I glance over at the desk again. Who is Hunter? He doesn’t operate like a cop—even an undercover one. His guns aren’t the typical police-issued ones. He evidently prefers H&K P30Ls. And his body…dear God, his poor body was so riddled with wounds…
Frantically, I dart my eyes around his place again. Nothing homey about it. He said he wasn’t planning to hang around here long.
A dawning realization slams into me as my mind ticks off the facts.
He’s here for work.
He carries himself like someone who’s a force to be reckoned with. Dangerous. Deadly.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out. My heart beats erratically within my chest at a rapid staccato while my mind connects the dots.
Hunter. His name’s Hunter. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He’s The Hunter everyone always talks about on the dark web. He’s a goddamn contract killer—the best, most notorious one out there.
And he’s looking for me.
I need to get out of here quick, but I can’t let him know I’m onto him. Shit. Even though I have hair extensions in, glasses on, and liquid latex and makeup in place—the latter not in top shape due to last night—he’s a killer who’s been hired to find me.
It’s only a matter of time before he figures shit out.
Even worse is the undeniable fact that I don’t have a chance in hell of beating the best motherfucking contract killer out there at his game.
Fuck. I close my eyes and shake my head at my utter stupidity. Sucking in a deep breath before releasing it slowly, I give myself a mental pep talk.
Keep cool. Get out of here. Make sure you’re not tailed.
Then my father’s voice pipes up. Always be aware of your surroundings.
I advance toward the door, barely resisting the urge to sprint, when it suddenly opens. Kujo comes trotting in, tail wagging happily, with Hunter right behind him.
Shit.
“Hey.” My traitorous voice shakes, and I know he detects it.
“Hey,” he says, voice a deep timbre.
“I, uh, should get going. It’s late.” I eye him warily, my entire body on edge, wondering if he knows who I am even behind the disguises in place.
If he’s been playing me this whole damn time.
After a beat, he steps aside. Lines bracket his mouth, deepening as he watches me step through the doorway.
“Wait.”
I freeze in place, every molecule of my body on alert, but the raw quality of his tone serves to soothe my unease. He steps closer, his front to my back, his body heat warming me. Dipping his chin, he dusts his lips along the shell of my ear. His whispered words sound rough, almost like they’ve been jerked from him against his will. “Thank you for last night.”
I can only nod before I dart away, walking as fast as I can without being too obvious that I’m desperate to run away from him.
I beg the universe to grant me a little time before he comes after me. Because I sure as hell need to plan for when shit hits the fan.
And now that he’s on my tail, it will.
33
Hunter
I stare at the closed door, Kate long gone by now, and an unsettled feeling churns inside me. The whole morning-after shit is for the birds. It was so goddamn awkward. I should’ve let her leave without saying anything.
“Thank you for last night.” I’d fucking thanked her, for Christ’s sake. Thanked her like it’d been her job to fuck me last night.
Leaning my head against the door, I thump it against the hard surface with a groan. This is exactly why I don’t do this kind of shit. Killing assholes, I’m great at. It doesn’t require me to socialize with others.
Kujo sits by the door and gives a little whimper. When I stare down at him, he paws at the door once as if to say, Go get her and bring her back.
“No can do, buddy. It was pretty damn obvious she couldn’t wait to ditch us.” And that’s fine because we never made each other any promises.
The pinch in the center of my chest at the thought of not running into her again pisses me off, so I ignore it.
Dragging a hand down my face, I heave out a breath, trying to regroup mentally. Then I tug off my beanie, stuffing it in my coat pocket before removing it and tossing it over the chair.
I need to focus. I’ve been hired to find out who’s behind these hits, and I’m determined as hell to figure it out. No way can I afford to fuc
k it up now, and certainly not because of some woman. I can’t let Kate get under my skin and distract me when I’m this close to my goal.
And I know I’m close. I sense it.
I’ll soon have my target in my crosshairs.
34
Kate
A few nights later
The sign for Bullard’s Gun & Pawn is turned off since it’s closed for the day, and the latest cache of weapons have been shipped off, so no one’s standing guard.
But someone’s still hard at work in the back. And by hard at work, I mean Jeremiah’s working some girl over his dick. The distraction allows me to plant the voice-activated bugs before I focus on my target.
“Yeah, baby. Fuck, yeah.” Nearly every thrust is punctuated by this, and it makes me wonder if that’s his entire vocabulary during sex. If so, he should really practice abstinence and save any potential partners the chore of having to hear this shit.
My voice monotone, I break in with, “Time’s up.” They jerk apart, and the girl squeals at the sight of the arrow I have pointed at them. “Back away from the girl and, for the love of Christ, pull up your goddamn pants.” I make a face. “No one should be subjected to that.”
His upper lip curls at me, and he has the audacity to try to reach for the gun sitting a few feet away on the table he’d been banging the girl on. I release the arrow, the broadhead spearing his outstretched hand, and he howls in pain.
I arch my eyebrows. “Now, that was far more impressive than your mundane commentary moments ago.” Scowling at him, I draw another arrow from the bag strapped to my back, and command, “Pull up your pants. Now.”
Jeremiah struggles to refasten his pants one-handed while cradling his injured hand to his chest, the arrow tearing its way through his palm.