Dark Hunter

by AJ Adams

  “Three generations gone in three weeks,” Arturo nodded. “But there was a scandal. About his daughter. Was that you?”

  And then Morgan told us what had gone down. She spoke simply, but my blood boiled. I’d kill them for her: the treacherous ex, the fiendish rapist, and the double-crossing cartel boss. I’d make them suffer for weeks. But first I had to keep her alive.

  “I got it right on all counts,” I reminded Arturo. “As a hunter, I’m the best of the best. How many people on your staff have that kind of talent?”

  “You didn’t get any inside intel?” Arturo asked.

  “No, none. All my own work.”

  There was a dead silence as the Zeta leader weighed his options.

  “You can use me,” I heard myself plead. “And she’s just a girl.”

  “Yes, but she’s Gulf,” Arturo said thoughtfully.

  “Her father was,” I corrected him. “Morgan is not. And seeing what’s happened, she doesn’t even want to go near them. They’d kill her.”

  Arturo was wavering. “You’ll join us? And accept all assignments?”

  “That’s my offer,” I said to him. “My talents are yours but I keep her.”

  “And if she runs away?” Arturo asked. “What then?”

  “Then I will hunt her down and kill her.”

  Chapter Twenty: Morgan

  It was like listening to a computer. Of the Terminator variety. Every nuance and every twitch had registered. The questions I’d asked and the ones I hadn’t, the things I’d done and those I hadn’t, all of it had all added up, giving him the final answer.

  I was dead, and then Rip reached out and saved me. “My talents are yours, but I keep her.”

  There was no way the Zetas could turn that down. This was a man who did the unthinkable. Rip reached into space and time to find his quarry. Guards and guns offered no protection either. Christian Navarro and Velasquez Cervantes proved that. Rip was a lethal weapon, and the cartel would lust over him.

  “And if she runs away?” Arturo asked. “What then?”

  “Then I will hunt her down and kill her.”

  “I accept the offer,” Arturo said simply.

  There was no shaking hands or demanding of an oath or anything, Rip just nodded. “Okay, look, I need to get Morgan home.”

  And then we were walking through the body scanner and out the gate. I had this crazy feeling that the cartel boss would change his mind and give the guards orders to shoot us, but Rip handed me into the Cayenne, and then we were driving home.

  I was too tired to process it all. I just sat there, not quite understanding how I’d survived. The sun was setting, flooding the sky with orange and violet highlights. It was beautiful, and I was grateful to be alive and see it.

  When we drew up at the house, my first thought was that we were home. That hit me hard. I stumbled out, my feet feeling as if they weren’t quite touching the ground. The beauty of the place went straight to my heart.

  But Rip had that remote look again. He took me by the arm, pushed me into the kitchen and stood in front of me. “I meant it,” he said. “No more running off.”

  He’d been furious with me in town, and yet he’d saved me from the Zetas. He put a bag on the table. Sexxxy it announced, and I spotted a nasty looking butt plug lying on top.

  “You stay here,” Rip was laying down the law. “You’re out of options.”

  It had been a rescue, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  “You’re mine.”

  Frying pans and fire, definitely.

  “Understand this: I will keep my promise to Arturo.”

  And the jefe would have no issues with me being beaten black and blue. Or disappearing into a cellar for life.

  “Do you understand?” He wasn’t angry anymore; he was simply telling me where I stood. And that was precisely nowhere.

  “Yes, Rip.”

  “Good.” The soulless eyes gazed into mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

  And that was it. I was his. Owned and helpless, with nowhere to go. I was beyond terrified. I was just numb.

  Like before, I found myself upstairs, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Rip stack his things neatly on a chair. In my fear, he looked massive. The muscles rippled menacingly. The eyes were arctic. He was a fiend.

  “Come on, get your kit off.”

  I was stripping, my fingers stiff with nerves.

  “Hold her up!”

  “Don’t let her pass out!”

  Images of Mitch and Neto beating me came rushing back. This was going to be bad, and I couldn’t for the life of me think of a way to stop it.

  “I bought some cotton restraints.” He was digging in the Sexxxy bag. “The velvet edgings on the cuffs just disintegrated and the edges are seriously sharp.”

  “W-what?” I couldn’t take it in.

  Rip was flourishing strips of cotton. “These should do the job.”

  Like before, the world shifted. Rip was a killer, but he wasn’t planning on hurting me.

  “Feet up.” He was efficient as ever, curling my ankles to my thighs and then securing them. More ties looped my hands on top. It left me looking as if I were about to hop across the bed.

  “It’s called a frogtie.” His cock was solid against my flesh. He was looking down at me, the light eyes strangely blank as ever, but he was smiling. “I’ve been reading up on bondage. This one looked good.”

  I breathed again. This wasn’t scary. At least, not much. I was remembering how he’d made me wail for him before.

  “Hmm,” the hot hardness was throbbing as he leaned over me. “Want to play?”

  I could hardly move, and it felt weird to have my legs all scrunched up and splayed wide, but with Rip all over me and grinning, that secure feeling was washing over me again.

  His tongue flicked out, lapping at a tightening nipple until I was melting again. But then Rip was frowning, “I might turn you over.”

  “No!” I was bucking instinctively, the fear spiking wildly again.

  “I bought a gag too.”

  “Get the fuck away from me!” I was pulling with all my might, but the cotton ties were as efficient as steel.

  Rip casually pushed me on to my back. “My game. My choice.” His hardness was sliding between my legs, rampant now. “You’re going to have to persuade me, and you know my price.”

  The words were terrifying but the hands careful. A light the size of the sun finally went off in my feeble brain. “You— You bastard!”

  He was laughing. “Hmmm, yes.” He licked my nipples again, beaded tight with terror now. “Delicious.”

  Rip was turned on by my fear. All the talk was for show; he wasn’t planning on hurting me at all. The knowledge flowed through me, fuelling my anger as his touch fanned my lust. “Get off me!”

  “Never.” His hands were sliding up and behind my back, holding me up as he teased himself by rubbing himself over my clit. His eyes were sparkling, and his skin was burning. Rip was raring to go. “Make it good, Morgan, or I’ll up the game to entertain myself.”

  I was struggling, but the ties were keeping me spread wide. Of course, the more I moved, the more his cock rubbed against my clit.

  “Am I having fun yet?” Rip asked mock seriously. That hardness was stroking away, triggering a sea of cream. “I think you are.”

  His hands were all over me, and he was rubbing my ass suggestively. The seesaw of my increasing excitement and the trepidation that Rip was quite capable of anything set me alight. My breath was shortening with anticipation. “No way am I playing your damn game!”

  His head dipped as he blew in my ear. “I’ll make you.”

  I was wetter than the Rio Grande. “Go ahead and try.” But I was shivering with delicious tremors that were already banking and fuelling an orgasm that promised to be seismic.

  Rip lifted himself up, and before I could properly enjoy that sneaking tsunami of rapture, he was sliding into me. The thick searing rod inside me was quickening those t
remors into shudders.

  “I can come fast,” he gasped as he slid slowly in and out of me. “And I’ll just leave you to it, okay?”

  “Nooooo! Don’t you dare!”

  At that Rip burst out laughing. “Come on then, Morgan. Fuck me!”

  Rip powering into me drove me into wailing moans. The world retreated, leaving us in our own private paradise. His body was hard against mine, using me ruthlessly. He nipped, licked, teased, and tormented, and I loved every single second of it.

  “More! Faster!”

  “Say please.”

  “Pleeeeeease!”

  “Not good enough.” A tongue laving my nipples. “I think I’m just going to take a break.”

  “Bastard! Fuck me!”

  His chuckling set his cock quivering and made his balls bounce against me. “Persuade me.”

  We bucked in wild rhythm, biting, licking, and wailing in mutual passion.

  “Be rough, Rip. Ride me!”

  Bound and powerless, he drove me to the edge of orgasm again and again.

  I was begging, howling for him for finish me, “Let me come!”

  Hot, wet and slick, my body began to pulse, the shimmering muscles milking his cock that was rammed home deep inside me.

  He was tight against me, hands gripping me as he groaned, “Oh dear God, I can’t wait any more.” The firm flesh throbbed, and then he was pounding into me, driving me into all consuming white release.

  “Oh-dear-God-never-stop!”

  We exploded together, pulsing and shrieking as we came in glorious abandon. Finally sliding to a halt, I was drenched and bone-tired. Rip was glued on top of me, his body melding into mine.

  “Hmm, you saved yourself this time,” Rip murmured, “but it won’t last.” He was folded around me, teasingly running his hands down and cupping my ass. “Soon I’ll be upping the game.”

  As the waves of orgasm faded, I was totally buttery and finally thinking clearly. When my life had hung in the balance, Rip had saved me. And despite all the talk, he’d not done a thing I hadn’t liked. Rip’s game truly was a game. I was perfectly safe.

  Probably. And I was wickedly aware that the little edge of doubt would have me shimmering again and again.

  I wriggled luxuriously. “Turn me over and I’ll get my revenge.”

  He was chuckling as he lifted himself off me and untied the restraints, “Sounds like a challenge.”

  My legs were creaking, stretching slowly as my body quivered and shook with ebbing bliss. Rip was looking hot, sweaty, and relaxed. In other words: thoroughly human. He gathered me into him, lying on his back and cuddling me.

  That was hot, babe. I had a flash of Mitch, curling away afterwards and rolling himself in the tiger striped silk sheets. At the time, I’d thought it was just a reflex, but now I was wondering if Mitch had simply been discarding me after he’d had what he wanted.

  Rip was lifting his head and gazing at me. “You okay, Morgan?”

  “Just breathless.” I curled into him, snuggling as I challenged him. “There will be no talk over turning over. I won, so I choose next.”

  He was nuzzling my neck, all the hard muscles flexing against me. “I’m changing the rules.”

  The implied threat didn’t faze me. It was all coming together now. He’d given up his right to veto assignments and promised lifelong allegiance in order to save me. “Is that so?”

  “I can do what I want,” Rip reminded me. “You’re mine now.”

  He was tensing as he said it, and I saw straight to the heart of him. “Yes, I haven’t forgotten. Thanks, Rip.” The arms were hard around me, all that casual strength carefully cradling me. “That’s twice you saved my life.”

  He was silent, but the tension in him was unmistakable. “You know what happens if you try to leave?”

  “Why would I do that?” I’d been right about that protective feeling. It would’ve taken a second to get rid of me. His friends would’ve liked him for it, too. Rip had a lot to lose, yet he’d not hesitated. When I’d needed him, my guardian angel had stepped up. “But Rip, what did it cost you?”

  The arms cinched around me but he was smiling again. “Not a thing.”

  “Yes, it did. I was there.”

  He was rubbing his hands down my back. “I was on contract, and now I’m full-time.”

  “But Rip—”

  “My work is not your business.”

  Typical macho bull, right? “But—”

  He lifted my chin, looking into my eyes. “If we are to do this, we never talk about what I am.”

  The themed killing. How on earth had I lost sight of that? A shiver ran through me. “But Rip—”

  The all-knowing Terminator had seen the shiver. “No, Morgan.”

  At that, the human man vanished. This wasn’t the Rip who’d laughed as he’d licked my nipples. This was the one who’d sent me screaming.

  “I’m hungry.” He was moving away, unwinding my arm from his chest. “Shall we have supper, Morgan?”

  Yes, he was gone. He was moving so fast that he was out the room before I could gather my thoughts. I heard the shower run and then he was back, tugging on his clothes and looking remote again.

  “I just realised,” he said absently. “You’re Isabel, not Morgan.”

  “Nobody’s called me that since school, and then only when I was in trouble.”

  The cerulean eyes flashed. “You? In trouble? I’m shocked.”

  The clown!

  “So you’re Belle?”

  I’d hated that name ever since Beauty and the Beast came out. I hadn’t liked any of the nicknames I’d had, which is why my friends had simply called me Chica. But to be honest, I hadn’t liked that either. “I prefer Morgan.”

  “Okay.” Rip was dressed and distant, thinking again. Or rather, computing. “No more revenge games, Morgan.”

  Like I was looking for more trouble. “I wasn’t planning on any.”

  “Just as well, because you’re no good at it.”

  That stung. “Hey! I got the job done, didn’t I?”

  Rip sighed. “A four-storey building explodes, and nobody is hurt.”

  “It was tented. Nobody goes into a tented building.”

  “Yes, it was very clever. But how did you pay the exterminator?”

  My stomach roiled nervously. “Oh crap.”

  Rip was annoyingly superior. “From your bank account, right?”

  “Maybe.” I rallied. “But they said persons unknown.”

  “Coppers are thick, but they don’t share everything with CNN,” Rip pointed out. “They know you paid for the tenting. They’re just waiting for you to go home, and then they’ll nab you.”

  “Oh hell.” I really had fucked up.

  “Never mind, Morgan. You’re safe here. And you’ll be okay.”

  Rip spoke calmly, but I knew he was on edge. This time I wasn’t fooled. Behind the blank look and cold eyes, Rip was worrying. He was terrified that I’d screw up and that he’d have to do something drastic.

  I bounced out of bed and hugged him. “I meant it when I said I was grateful.”

  “Good.” He smiled, and the relief brought back the man in him. He put his arms around me, looking a little hesitant. I was getting it now, and so I just held on to him. I was thinking of what to say when my stomach rumbled.

  At that, Rip grinned. “How about chicken Cordon Bleu for supper?”

  At the thought of food, I was drooling. “Awesome. What’s Cordon Bleu?”

  “Stuffed with ham and cheese.”

  “Yum. You know, Rip, until I met you, I thought curly fries were fancy.”

  He was laughing. “Come on, then. Let’s eat.”

  It wasn’t until much later, when I lay curled up against him in bed again, happily stuffed and comfy with the heavy arm around me, that I realised I still didn’t understand why Rip had needed a girl. There was no point in asking him; Rip was out. I decided it could wait, thinking it probably wasn’t very important. Yes
, idiot me.

  Anyway, when I woke up, the sun was blazing, and Rip’s side of the bed was empty. A delicious waft of bacon drifting up the stairs had me up, washed, and running downstairs.

  I ran in expecting breakfast and found myself charging into a full-blown Zeta cartel meeting. Rip was there with Chumillo, Rafa, Quique and, to my horror, Kyle too, looming in deadly black. They were sitting around the table, drinking coffee and looking at maps.

  Unlike the other times, the Zetas didn’t smile or greet me. Morgan had been their petted darling, but the real me got icy stares.

  “Morning, Morgan.” Rip was distant, absorbed in the job at hand. “Your plate’s in the oven, and I’ve set up the umbrella by the pool.”

  Meaning, get lost while we talk murder, of course.

  None of them said a word, but I felt myself shrink as I crept to collect my plate. Their eyes were burning into my back, and I wanted to flee when Rip’s words to Arturo, the cartel jefe, came floating back into mind.

  “I’ll work for you without reservation. No more vetting of assignments. Anything you like, I’ll do. My total loyalty, always.”

  He was a killer, but clearly Rip had limits. And because of me, he’d be forced into God knew what. He was stuck for life. I knew exactly what that might entail, and I couldn’t bear it.

  My big mouth was flapping before my brain could shut me up. “Rip, don’t do it.”

  They were all staring at me.

  “Don’t do what?” Rip asked.

  “Your deal. That pledge you made. Don’t.” My legs were shaking, my knees dissolving, but I made myself confront the Zetas. “Look, I’ll pay my own price. But Rip does what he wants. The deal he made is off.”

  Rip was frowning. “Don’t be ridiculous, Morgan.”

  “Look, I’m not worth it.”

  He shook his head. “You’re talking nonsense.”

  “I’m not. I pay for my own mistakes.”

  Kyle was frowning. “Do you know what you’re saying, girl?”

  “Yes.” I was terrified but I was determined. “Rip’s done enough for me. It’s my own fault I ended up here. I’ll pay whatever price you want,” my stomach roiled but I went on as if I were totally cool, “but Rip gets to walk. Whatever massacre you’re planning, he’s out.”