by Celia Aaron
“He thought he’d broken you.”
“I did too, until I had the gun in my good hand, braced it against my shoulder, and pulled the trigger. Perfect kill shot.” A smile tried to ghost across my lips. “Just like he’d taught me.”
“He’s lucky you killed him before I got the chance. I would have made it last months.” The grit in his tone and his possessive hold on me told me he spoke the truth.
“After that, the sheriff’s department arrested me for the murder. A couple of the deputies gave me a hard time, tried to make it out like I provoked Brandon or was somehow to blame for everything that happened.”
“Names.” He wrapped a hand around my throat and used his thumb to push my chin up, keeping our eyes locked. “I want names.”
“I think we have enough on our plates at the moment.”
He ran his thumb along my jaw. “When this is over, you’re going to give me names.”
I dropped my head onto his shoulder. “If we live through this, then sure, I’ll tell you names, but only if you promise not to kill them.”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He nuzzled into my hair, his tone cold and sure.
“Eventually, I was cleared of the murder. Self-defense. Once I healed, I left college and tried to put it all behind me. But I couldn’t stay in Reading, especially after running into a few of my classmates who’d recognized me and asked questions about what happened with Brandon. I couldn’t bear the stares and the whispers, so I packed up and moved to Philadelphia to start fresh.”
“Where I found you.”
“Yes.” She relaxed, as if telling her story lifted a weight. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Body count.”
He pulled me to his chest so I straddled him, his hard cock pressed against my bare pussy. “I’m beginning to think you’re a little macabre.”
I canted my head and considered it. “Maybe.”
“I think the fact that I can kill a man without remorse is a turn on for you.”
“Maybe.” Was it sick to admit that, yes, everything about him turned me on? Even the killer parts? Probably. “So, what’s the number?”
He slid his hands down my back and cupped my ass. “Higher than any other man’s you’ll ever meet.”
“Even Ramone’s?” Fear slithered through me.
“Yes.” He thrust up, his cock rubbing against my clit just right. “And I’ll add his name to my count before this is all over.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not.” His cold confidence gave no room for doubt.
My life was in his hands. There was no one else. Just the two of us here in a cold mansion along an icy shore as we waited for fate to catch up with us.
I rocked against him. He was all hardness and sharp edges. My body molded to him, and a fire erupted inside me. This was the moment.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I pressed my lips to his throat.
Giving myself to him was as natural as breathing. Just like my flowers, this moment was fleeting. Ramone’s threat hovered over us, wilting our future, but we could live during what little time we had left.
His grip tightened in my hair, and he pulled me back. I stared down into his eyes.
“Do you want this?” His voice was gravel and broken glass.
A thrill of fear jolted through me and sent a buzz between my thighs.
“No turning back.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “And I need you to know I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. I’ve thought about you every night, imagined you, dreamed about you. I haven’t so much as looked at another woman since I saw you standing in the window of your flower shop.” He rocked up to me, his tip teasing at my entrance, and I gasped. “So, tell me yes or tell me no, but either way, you have to mean it.”
He’d laid himself bare. Again. There was only one word on my lips. “Yes.”
He rolled over, pinning me beneath him as his hips rocked against me. His mouth was an avalanche of heat, need, and possession. He pressed his lips against mine, his tongue darting along the seam of my mouth until I opened for him. As he sank his tongue inside, he groaned. An onslaught of sensations rocketed through me, and I dug my heels into his thighs, urging him onward.
I ran my hands along his back, the corded muscles tense beneath my fingertips. When he gripped my breast, I couldn’t stop the moan that rolled through me. He swallowed the sound and kissed down to my neck.
He grazed my throat with his teeth, then licked and sucked as I panted. When he pinched my nipple, my back arched and I grew even wetter between my thighs.
“Fuck.” He bit down on my shoulder, hard enough to sting, but not enough to break the skin.
My body went from overheated to blazing.
“I have to feel you. All of you.” He sat back, taking the covers with him and stared down at me.
When the cool air hit my nipples, they tingled and hardened even more. The firelight played off the right side of his face, casting the left in shadow. Half light, half dark, he could be the bogeyman or an avenging angel.
“Fucking beautiful.” He gripped his cock and stared at my pussy. “Fucking mine.”
I bit my swollen lip at the sight of his cock—long, impossibly thick, and at full attention. His body was a masterpiece of muscle, scars, and ink. Vengeance was written into his skin, as if he were made for violence and bloodshed. But at that moment, the hunger in his eyes was only for me.
Leaning down, he placed his palms on the insides of my knees and spread me.
“Goddamn.” He got on his knees between my legs, then bent his head down. “All for me.” He placed a gentle kiss on my pussy, and I gripped the sheets to try to keep myself grounded.
His eyes on mine, he licked me from entrance to clit. No amount of sheet grabbing could keep my hips still.
“Conrad,” I gasped, nothing else to say. “I trust you. Please.”
“You want my cock, baby?” He smirked. “It’s all yours.” Sliding his palms up the insides of my thighs, his rough growl lit me up. “I need to be inside you, nothing between us. I’m clean.”
I nodded. If he’d asked for the entire contents of my bank account—meager as it was—I would have given it to him at that point. Besides, I’d been on the three-month birth control shot since I was fifteen and hadn’t had sex in years. He would be my baptism by fire.
He prowled over me, keeping himself propped on an elbow as he pressed his cock against my pussy. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.” He positioned his tip at my entrance. “I want to see you take every inch.”
I grabbed his shoulders and spread wide for him.
He groaned and sank into me, his head stretching me and sliding against my slick walls. I wanted to close my eyes, to focus on the sensations, but his gaze held me as he pushed farther in. A slight sting of pain turned into delicious fullness. With one final thrust, he filled me.
“Fucking tight. Hot. Just like I knew you’d be.” He ground his hips against mine, and I dug my nails into his shoulders.
“Conrad, please.” I rocked my hips, the friction sending a buzz of pleasure through me.
“I’ll give you everything you want, Charlie. You don’t have to ask.” He slid an arm under my back, then gripped my shoulder, holding me in place as he pulled out and slammed back home.
I cried out and held onto him as he set a hard pace, owning my body with rough strokes. He claimed my mouth, his tongue keeping time with his pistoning hips until every part of me was invaded by him. I opened wider for him, welcoming everything he had to give.
Slapping sounds of skin on skin ricocheted around the room. My body started a hum that ratcheted up with each stroke of his hard cock until I was drawn tight, desperate for another release.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled so my neck was exposed. His mouth sought out my tender spots, and he bit and licked, driving me wild with
need. Each move he made stoked my fire higher until I was on the verge.
Pulling away, he got to his knees and gripped my hips, jerking me up to him as he fucked me with punishing thrusts. I loved each one, my breasts bouncing, my mind rattling as I ground my pussy against him in time with each stroke.
He stared at where we were joined, then licked his thumb and pressed it against my clit. I arched my lower back off the bed as he kept pounding me and stroking my nub.
“You’re there, aren’t you? I want to see it.” He strummed my clit faster. “I want to feel you squeeze every last drop out of me.”
His words sent me over the edge. My hips locked and I fell, dropping over first one cliff and then another as my breath left me in a long, low moan. My mind shattered right along with my body as every bit of tension left me in delicious waves. He gripped my hip even harder and jerked me onto his cock. He shot inside me, his wetness mixing with my own as he grunted and stilled. I stared up at him as the tension left his shoulders, his abs. Like watching a storm rage and thunder, then roll away ahead of the warm sun.
He sat back, still inside me, and ran a hand through his hair. “Holy shit. That was…”
“Perfect.” I smiled.
He reached down and grabbed my wrists, pulling me up so I sat astride him, our chests pressed together.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you coming with me inside you.” He kissed the tip of my nose. So gentle and relaxed. The worries had drained from his face, but the intensity was still there. Completely focused on me in a way that should have frightened me. Instead, I welcomed it.
He ghosted his lips over mine, and I threw my arms around his neck. My nipples tingled as they pressed against his hard chest.
His cock twitched inside me, and he stared into my eyes. “I’m going to have to take you again if you don’t stop.”
I bit his bottom lip. “Promise?”
23
Conrad
She fell asleep on my chest, her cheek pressed against the ink over my heart. Her soft breaths created a soundtrack that could soothe even the most vicious beast, myself included.
When she’d given herself to me, I’d been too in the moment to consider what it meant. But holding her while she slept brought it all home. She was mine to protect. I already knew I’d kill anyone who tried to harm her, but the bone-deep knowledge that she was mine reinforced the need to keep her safe. Problem was, hanging around with me wasn’t good for life expectancy.
I stared at the ceiling, the shadows jumping with the dying light of the fire. Being a killer was what got me enough money and street cred to live my life free of swearing allegiance to any one boss in particular. I was independent, a hired gun that guaranteed results for the right price. Killing was all I’d ever known.
I ran my fingers along the whisper-soft skin of her upper arm. But Charlie was worth so much more than a life of blood and vengeance. For her, I could change. Maybe we could start again somewhere else. Somewhere no one would know us. I had enough money to get us settled—a house, another flower shop, a brand new life. I closed my eyes, thoughts of a happy future lulling me to sleep.
In the back of my mind, my father’s voice whispered. Second chances never come cheap.
A crash broke the stillness, cutting through my sleep like my knife into a heart. I sat up. The fire had died, but early morning light filtered around the storm-shuttered windows.
“You think the good shit’s here?” A deep voice carried up the stairs and down the hall.
Another man replied, but I couldn’t make out what he said.
A third man spoke up. “Vince hasn’t said shit about shit. So this place is fair game as far as I’m concerned.”
Charlie gripped my forearm, her eyes wide. I put a finger to my lips and slipped out of bed. I grabbed my 9 mm from the bedside table.
Taking the shotgun I’d placed next to the bed, I handed it to her. Something dark passed across her face, and she shook her head. She killed Brandon with a shotgun. The terror in her eyes constricted my heart. I dropped the shotgun on the bed and pointed to the closet. She took the hint and crept across the rug in front of the fireplace, her nude form enthralling as it moved. Once the closet door clicked closed, I pulled the .45 from between the mattresses, then edged to the door and removed the chair brace.
The voices quieted, and the front door opened. Footsteps and two more men’s voices added to the noise.
“Find anything yet?”
“No, just some liquor and a couple of guns. There’s a car out back we can take.”
“That ain’t shit. I don’t need a fucking hot car.” The front door slammed. “You look upstairs?”
I eased out of the room and closed the door behind me, then crept to the next bedroom on the hallway.
“Haven’t had time. We just got here.”
“Get the fuck upstairs, numb nuts.” A slapping sound. “Bitch has to have some jewelry. See if old Serge had a safe or something. We need to clean this place out and clear the fuck out before Berty gets wind of it.”
Low level mafia players looking for an easy score. I relaxed. This would be easy, like a little practice round for me. The coming bloodbath made the machinery in my head click and whirr, everything running as it should. A calm settled over me as my battle plan materialized. One move after another until the threat lay bleeding out at my feet.
The steps began to creak. I counted at least four sets of footfalls. They were heading right toward us. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and waited for the first man to enter the hallway. Then the second, then the third.
They were almost at my door when I burst out, put two bullets in the first man, grabbed him and hauled him to me. I used him as a shield while I shot the second man in the head. He dropped as the third backed toward the stairs and fired at me. The guy I was holding jerked as the slugs hit. I aimed around him and shot the third man in the body. He shrieked and tumbled down the stairs to his yelling compatriots.
I let the first man go. He dropped to his back, his dead eyes staring up at me as I stepped over him. My bare feet tracked his blood down the hallway’s wood floor. I was still naked, but didn’t give two shits. Doing my job didn’t require anything but cold steel in my palm. The yells from below quieted except for the man at the bottom of the stairs. His wheezing breaths and cries for help were quickly silenced by a shot that didn’t come from me. Cold.
I leaned against the wall next to the stairs and replayed the downstairs layout in my mind. By my count, there were at least two more men downstairs, maybe a third. One would hole up in the sitting room, likely behind the chintz sofa near the front window. I spun the floor plan around in my mind, looking for the spots I’d pick if I wanted to ambush someone. Dining room, next to the wide buffet. Kitchen, leave the pantry door cracked as a decoy but hide behind the island to get a knee shot.
“Come on down, motherfucker.” The deep voice boomed to my ears. “This place is ours. You aren’t walking out of here alive.” I knew that voice—Ricky, a low level asshat who supervised a ring of meth dealers in the city. From the sound of it, he’d taken the spot in the dining room. I’d kill him last. Poor fucker didn’t realize he’d just walked face-first into a wood chipper.
Peeking around the corner, I found the foyer clear, but a shadow in the sitting room told me where my next victim was hiding. I pounded down the stairs, shooting my .45 toward the hallway. A stray shot from the dining room hit the chandelier, and pieces of crystal rained down.
Gunshots peppered the air as I stepped on the body at the foot of the stairs to avoid the glass, then rolled sideways into the sitting room. I fired two rounds from my 9 mm into the sofa and pressed my back against the wall next to the door.
Once the shooting stopped, a gurgle and a wheeze signaled the end of the sofa guy’s life. I had five shots left in my 9 mm and six in my .45. It would have to be enough to take down one, possibly more shooters. I didn’t have any extra mags for reload. Couldn’t exac
tly tuck spare ammo in my ball sack. Rising to my feet, I surveyed the foyer. The glass would be a problem for my bare feet.
I glanced to the sofa, then darted around to it. The dead man had a Glock in his palm. I checked the mag. Empty. Fucker had already blown his wad. I stripped off his black loafers. They were too small, but would have to do. I wedged them onto my feet and returned to the door.
I peeked out toward the dining room. The angle of the door made it impossible to see inside, but I could sense the man in there. Likely hunkered down behind the buffet.
Taking a breath, I sprinted across the foyer, fired a couple of shots into the dining room as I passed, then skidded into the kitchen and hit the floor on a roll. Fire erupted in my calf, but I ignored it. I landed in a squatting position and took out the shooter who popped up from behind the island with a head shot. Steps told me Ricky was making a move from the dining room. I rose and jumped onto the wide island, then dove behind it and landed on the dead man as Ricky opened fire. Bullets hammered into the stainless steel fridge and shattered the wood cabinets over my head.
Once I heard the inevitable click, I leaned around the island and fired at Ricky’s legs. But he’d taken off down the hallway, his steps thundering. Fuck. I launched off the corpse, my leg aching like a bitch, and followed him. I only had one shot left in my 9 mm, and my .45 was empty. He dashed to the right and raced up the stairs.
I roared and took off after him. I couldn’t let him find Charlie. The pain in my leg intensified as I powered up the stairs. He was moving quicker and had already run into the master bedroom.
Charlie screamed, and I raced to the end of the hall and burst through the door.
He had his forearm wrapped around her throat, his gun pointed at me. When he got a closer look, he grinned. “Connie.”