Lance: A Hitman Romance (Santa Espera #2)

by Harley Fox

  He’s clean shaven, and has short dark hair. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket, and I can just make out the muscles on his chest through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. And just peeking out from underneath his collar is something … traces of colored ink. Tattoos.

  My heart is still beating now, but it’s not from surprise anymore. Up above his bright blue eyes seem to burn as they lock onto mine. There’s something entrancing about those eyes. And something familiar. They seem to draw me in, like quicksand.

  “Um,” I say, my hand still buried in my purse. The logical part of my brain kicks in and I wiggle my fingers around, finding the cold metal cylinder that is my can of mace. But even though I’ve found it, I don’t wrap my fingers around it. As intimidating as this man is, I don’t feel like I’m in danger.

  He turns his head a little towards the light, nodding at it.

  “Tilt it,” he says to me. “Towards the light.”

  I blink.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your purse. Tilt it towards the light, you’ll be able to see better.”

  It takes me a moment for what he said to register, but then do as he says. And indeed, when I tilt my purse and open it up I can see my car keys, hiding at the bottom. I take them out.

  “Thank you,” I say, looking back up at him. And when I see his eyes again I suddenly remember. “Wait … you were sitting at the bar inside the restaurant, weren’t you? I remember seeing you.”

  “And I remember seeing you,” he replies. “At the table with the kid.” He raises his eyebrows, giving a cursory look around. “Not yours?”

  “No, he’s my sister’s,” I say. “They already left.”

  “Mm,” he says, nodding and taking another step towards me. His shoes scrape against the asphalt.

  “I remember you kept turning around and looking at me,” I say. And he nods again, not denying it.

  “That’s right. And do you know why I kept turning around to look at you?” I shake my head. “It’s because I couldn’t help but notice something. In your expression. As you sat there with your sister and ate dinner.”

  He takes another step and my heartbeat picks up, but I stay where I am.

  “Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly did you see?”

  Another step, and now he’s halfway towards me.

  “I saw a sadness,” he says, his eyes still on mine. “Sadness and something else. Boredom. Almost like you’re looking for something but you don’t know what it is. And you don’t know where you can find it.”

  My lips part and he takes another step towards me. It’s as though he’s read my mind.

  “I …” I begin to say, but he takes another step and now I have to crane my neck just to keep looking in his eyes.

  “You …” he says, and I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. One more step and now he’s right in front of me. “You are looking for something. Something else in your life. Something exciting. Is that right?”

  My heart is beating like a jackhammer. I can smell him now — he smells like leather and sweat and sex. I nod.

  “I can give you something exciting,” he says, and a smile comes over his lips, his eyes still burning down into mine, and before I know it he’s lowering himself down and I feel my eyes close, and only a moment later it happens, I feel his lips press against mine and he kisses me.

  My mind is a blank. I’ve forgotten everything. It’s been so long since I’ve kissed anybody that I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

  But then his tongue enters my mouth and I taste the sweet aromatic flavor of alcohol and it all comes back to me.

  I reach up, my fingers finding the rough texture of his leather jacket. I brush over them, and his hands find my bare arms, his strong fingers squeezing, holding me, pulling me closer to him. Our heads tilt in opposite directions as I squeeze my own fingers on the leather, and then move one hand in, right against his front. I’m surprised to feel how hard his muscles are, and as I run my fingers over them I feel a heat begin to grow down between my legs.

  His hands tighten, and he pulls me closer still, until my body is pressing right up against his. My hands are caught between us, but more importantly there’s something hard pressing into my belly. I hear a low moan in his throat and then it clicks: oh my God, that’s his … and he’s hard! Already!

  So much is happening so fast. Part of me wants to pull away, but part of me is screaming to keep going, to see what’s underneath those clothes, to feel him and let him feel me, and see where things lead us.

  And then suddenly, he pulls back, and the kiss breaks off. And still I lean forward, my eyes still closed, my lips searching for his. When I finally open my eyes I see him looking at me, his eyes burning, his shoulders lifting with every heavy breath he takes. He almost seems as shocked by this as I am.

  “Wow,” I say in a breath. “You’re, uh … really good at that.”

  Oh my God. What am I, a teenager?

  But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t smile, or make fun. He only looks at me, and it’s almost like I’m trapped, trapped in his gaze as I look back up into him.

  “Thank you,” he says, his voice a low and deep rumble. “You’re good at it too.”

  I could melt. This is too good to be true. My limbs feel shaky and I bite my lip. Deep down inside of me there’s a hunger, an aching that needs to be sated. I lick my lips, and I can’t believe I’m about to suggest this.

  “Um, my place isn’t that far from here,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “If you want you could … come home with me.”

  He keeps looking at me as the seconds drag on like years. But then, without saying anything, he gives his response, and it’s the one thing I would never have expected …

  He shakes his head no.

  My heart drops, and I could laugh if all the air hadn’t been taken out of my lungs.

  Katie, of course. Of course he doesn’t want to go home with you! What were you thinking? This guy doesn’t even know your name!

  “No,” he says, “I don’t want to go home with you.”

  “Oh,” I manage to get out. “Yeah. Right. That’s fine. I just thought that maybe-”

  He leans down, and his lips go right next to my ear.

  “I don’t want to go home with you,” he whispers as I stand, frozen, “because I don’t think I can wait that long. I want to fuck you here and now, right up against this wall.”

  I’m speechless. Breathless. I can’t think, can’t speak, can’t do anything. But then his lips find my earlobe and he sucks it into his mouth and all of a sudden it’s like a flood just occurred inside my skirt.

  He straightens back up and grabs onto my hand, and then he takes me with him, walking away from my car, to further back in the parking lot.

  Our shoes scrape together against the asphalt as I struggle to keep up with him. He’s moving quickly, and it’s all I can do to keep my wits about me.

  He takes me to the back corner of the lot, where I see there’s one section of the restaurant wall that’s blocking out the light from the lamp, casting a dark shadow over itself and drenching the space in blackness. It’s into this blackness that he takes me, and when we step in I feel him let go of my hand only for him to grab onto my sides, spin me around, and push me up against the wall. One second later we’re kissing again.

  My lips work quickly against his eager ones. The rough brick pushes back into my shoulders as this man leans against me, his hard body pressing into mine. That hardness is still there, inside his pants, and I feel him grinding it into me. There’s urgency in him, intensity in his movements. I feel myself getting flushed, tingly. Down between my legs I’m a hot mess, and I know this isn’t going to last long for me.

  One of his hands slides down my side, sending a thrilling shiver up through my spine. He keeps going, moving past my thigh to the bottom of my skirt, and it’s there that I feel him reach in, touching t
he flesh that’s not exposed. My heartbeat quickens and I moan against his lips. His hand begins to slide up the insides of my legs, bringing my skirt up with it. He gets closer, and closer, and just as I feel myself ache for his touch, that’s when I hear the voices.

  Sheer panic flies through me. I open my eyes to see a couple walking up from the restaurant to where they parked their car. They don’t seem to notice us, but one loud noise, one scuffle of movement could oust us. We have to move somewhere else. We have to stop this and go somewhere private.

  Of course, all these thoughts fly out of my head the moment he finally touches me.

  Hot, electric passion ignites through me. It’s like nothing else in this world matters. In my head once again, the moment I start to moan, this man’s lips latch onto mine and he muffles the sound, keeping the two of us quiet as his fingers slide up and down my soaked-through panties. Behind him I hear the sound of two car doors opening and shutting before an engine starts and they drive away.

  My mind is a flurry. This man keeps touching me, keeps stroking me exactly where I want him. I reach down to that hardness in his jeans and grab onto it. A hot, thick shiver runs over me and my hand starts moving, rubbing over him. He moans against my lips, the two of us touching one another, giving each other a taste of what’s to come.

  I feel him slide down between my thighs as his fingers hook onto the side of my panties, pulling them to the side. Cool night air kisses my wet lips and then he’s touching me, touching the essence of me, and I gasp against his lips because this feels so much better than before.

  His fingers are rough, yet gentle. The tips of them slide into me with ease and behind my closed eyelids my eyes roll into the back of my head. Everything feels so wonderful and I grab onto his hardness, feeling the warmth and the pulse of him, throbbing against my hand. He dips in farther, and then he finds my clit, that aching beacon of pleasure, and the combination sends me shooting out as I suddenly come against his hand.

  Strong, sudden waves pump over me as this man’s lips press down hard against mine. He stifles my moans, my cries, and his strong arms keep me from falling to the ground. His fingers keep moving, keep drawing that deep, exquisite pleasure out of me. He keeps moving against my clit, making it sing, keep reaching into me, until it’s all I can do not to collapse.

  When my breathing starts to slow down and I finally come down, I’m not surprised to find that my entire body is trembling. I’m only half-aware of the fact that his hands are leaving my body. His fingers brush against mine, down at his jeans, and then I hear a belt buckle and zipper being undone. It’s only a moment later that his thick, hard cock lands in my open hand.

  I gasp. I can’t help it. My fingers wrap around this enormous thing in my hand and I begin to stroke him as he reaches into his jacket and takes out a square foil wrapper. Ripping it open with his teeth, he rolls out the condom over his entire cock and then leaves me to hold him while he slips a hand down between my legs again.

  His fingers find my panties and pull them to the side. Keeping them there, he grabs onto both of my legs and, with surprising ease, lifts me up against the wall, pinning me there with his body. I utter a small yelp, but he’s keeping me in place. His cock is still in my hand, and when he settles me down I feel myself guiding it to where I want it to be.

  My breath shudders when I feel the head of him touch up against my pussy. I have only a moment to register this before I’m lowered down onto him, and the two of us suck in a hiss of breath together as I feel him slide inside of me.

  He’s so big, and it’s been so long that a sweet, exquisite pain rips through me before swiftly turning to pleasure. I keep going down, down, until he’s all the way in and my mouth hangs open against his as I revel in the unbelievable sensation of being completely filled.

  Slowly at first, he begins pumping into me. My back grips the texture of the wall and I reach my arms up, wrapping around him, holding on for dear life as the two of us move together.

  My lips leave his for a moment as our heads move side by side. I can feel his hot breath on my neck, deep moans issuing from his lips. He’s holding me with strong arms, his cock filling me entirely with every single thrust. I go back to him and we continue kissing as he starts to move faster, starts to fill me with greater urgency. It’s all I can do to keep my voice from moaning, or crying out in pleasure.

  More voices, new voices, float over to us from the parking lot, and I open my eyes to see past him. He seems not to care, though, as he only moves faster into me. I have to work hard to stifle my moans. I see the people get into their car, talking happily, completely oblivious to the two strangers fucking mere feet from where they stand.

  Just as their engine starts this man drives up harder into me and I finally gasp, my sounds being drowned out by the other. My fingers scrabble against his back as hot, molten pleasure flows all throughout me. His grunts are coming in harder, but he keeps his voice low enough that only I can hear it.

  Still, his passion is there and feeling it only drives me on harder. We keep kissing and I feel myself tighten around him. He shudders, our tongues dancing together as his hips push up harder into me.

  Oh God. My legs and body are starting to tremble. Inside I feel that pressure, that building, and it know it’s going to happen again soon. I can feel myself getting closer with every thrust, with every aching moan. Waves of heat radiate off the both of us and I tighten around him again, my clit like a signal flare, this man’s body taking me to places I haven’t visited in years.

  It’s all I can do not to cry out. I stop kissing him only to bite down hard on my lip. But still the cries are coming out. He keeps going, his own moans louder. His thick and swollen cock is as hard as a rock as he pumps it up deep inside my pussy.

  I suck in breaths, trying to get under control, but he just won’t let me. He keeps me going, and I’m a slave to him, I can’t make myself want anything else. Every part of me cries out for more and he gives it to me, he gives me everything I want of him and more. My mouth finally opens and a single cry leaves me just before he plants his lips on mine again, taking my cries in, giving me that release that my body needs to finally climb up and crest that ridge. And with that I’m off, and everything around me ceases to exist as I explode.

  All that I know is pleasure.

  The entire world could come crashing down and I wouldn’t have a clue. All I can feel, all I can taste and smell and hear is him, is this, is us. Every one of my limbs shakes like a leaf as I struggle to hold onto him, struggle to keep myself together. He lets out a hot and heavy groan as his cock drives up hard inside of me, and a moment later I feel him explode as well, his hardness spasming, his body tensing with every aching wave of pleasure.

  We ride together, the two of us driving each other along. And when it’s over, when it’s finally over and I feel myself coming down as he comes down alongside me, our bodies slow down and it’s only then that I remember we’re still alive.

  Our lips part. I pull my eyelids apart to see him looking at me. Looking into me. And another shiver runs all over my body as I wonder who this man could possibly be.

  He lowers me down, and I feel his cock leave me, the result being a strangely empty sensation. When I’m back to standing on the ground — and when I’m certain my legs aren’t going to give out underneath me — I start to adjust my clothing as I watch him take the condom off and drop it on the ground. His cock, shiny and wet and still hard, sends a thrill of desire through me as I stare at it. But then he tucks it back into his jeans and it’s gone.

  But, maybe not for long …

  “Um … you know,” I say, my heart beating hard in my chest, “I’ve never done this type of thing before. And that was really amazing. Um … would you like to come back to my place?”

  I’m looking in his eyes as I ask this, and I watch as something flashes over his face. My brow furrows a bit. I can’t quite tell what the expression is … something familiar. But then he opens his mouth and he answer
s me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “But … I can’t.”

  “Oh,” I say, swallowing my disappointment. He said he didn’t want to before because … but that doesn’t matter. As much as I haven’t done this before, I’m certainly not a stranger to how these things work. “That’s fine. I just thought …”

  “I know,” he says, and an awkward silence comes over us. “… I’m sorry.”

  A silence comes over us, but we’re still looking at each other. And then, suddenly, he leans down and he kisses me, and right away I can tell that this kiss is different to all the other ones before it. I close my eyes and my arms reach up to wrap around him, and I feel his hands slide around my back as he holds me too.

  But then the kiss ends and when I open my eyes I see he’s already walking away, his back to me, his hands tucking into the pockets of his leather jacket.

  I watch him go, watch his retreating back become dimmer as he goes out of my life forever. And when he’s finally gone I take a deep breath, let it out, and then turn back to the parking lot, ready to find my car and drive myself home.

  Katie

  The clock ticks by slowly on the wall.

  I’m sitting in my leather chair, legs crossed, pen and notepad in hand. Across from me, staring off as he speaks, is Gregory Handel, former Fire Marshall. He’s been recounting one particular house fire he got called to ten years ago, moving his hands as he talks.

  “I mean, I’d seen bigger ones,” Gregory says, painting the scene in front of his eyes. “But this monster … she was fierce. Like nothing I’d ever seen before.”

  A flutter goes through my heart as his words remind me of what happened last night. Not for the first time I think back to that man, pinning me against the wall, his strong hands all over my body. That thing between his legs … just thinking about it shoots a pulse between my legs. Clearing my throat, I adjust myself in the seat and focus on Gregory again.

  In truth he’s told me this story before, during his first session here. But even so he once again describes the burning framing, the intensity of the heat, in exquisite detail. I jot the details down on my notepad, not about the fire itself, but about the way his eyes light up, how he moves his hands, and the excited look on his face.