Gifts

by Brynne Asher

  “I don’t know, okay?” He cranes his neck around to look down the street. He wants to avoid the cops more than anyone. “Some chick, I think.”

  I freeze right before my hand constricts around his neck again. “What chick? Fucking answer me!”

  “If we don’t get outta here, we’ll be here all night,” Jarvis echoes my thoughts.

  Raymond wheezes. “Some girl, but I don’t know why. It’s just what I heard. Like I said, it was a paid job.”

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you kill him now, he’ll never be able to tell you who did it.” Jarvis is standing over us and, for the first time since I met him, is acting as the voice of reason.

  I loosen my hold. “Who did it, dammit? Last chance.”

  Lights from police cruisers peek around the corner.

  “You’re in violation of your parole, Ray. Your choice,” I remind him.

  He shakes his head and his jaw tenses before he gives. “Arsen and Jules, okay? But you can’t say it was me who gave ‘em up.”

  I put all my weight on him before pushing off to stand and slip his gun into the back of my waistband.

  “You gonna give me my gun back?” he asks.

  “It’s a violation of your parole to have a weapon. I’d disappear if I were you, and the next time you see us, you’d better not fucking run,” Jarvis says.

  Raymond shakes his head, but doesn’t waste any time. He disappears down a dark alley.

  Jarvis and I make our way down the street at a normal pace.

  “Who fired the gun?” I ask.

  “One of them thought pointing a gun at me would stop me from holding down his buddy. The shot went wide when I kicked it out of his hand. No big deal.” Jarvis shrugs and looks over at me. “So, this is all about Emma?”

  I exhale, trying to control my rage, and nod.

  Someone tried to deliver a warning to my daughter in a storm of bullets. What the fuck could she have done to attract a warning like that?

  I don’t know, but whoever did it is going to pay.

  *****

  Keelie

  It’s after one in the morning and I’m wide awake. Just another reason why I shouldn’t day drink. I’m pretty sure I slept for over four hours.

  I woke up to find poor Levi babysitting. He and Knox were playing more video games and Saylor had a right-fine mess all around them with crayons, markers, glitter pens, scissors, glue, and so much paper, I’m sure she killed a small forest.

  Seriously, if today wasn’t a major parenting fail, I don’t know what would be. A man walks into my life, buys me a wine barrel, I get shot, and then poof—I become an irresponsible parent.

  I could tell Levi was happy to be relieved of his babysitting duties. He grabbed his phone and escaped to the guest room as quick as a bunny right after telling me Emma locked herself in Saylor’s room all night.

  Since it’s late and I’m merely the woman who’s secretly seeing their father in the pantry, I decided to leave Emma be. Instead, I got my kids to bed, ate cold Chinese food until I was stuffed, and started to wonder where Asa went.

  Who runs errands at this time on a Saturday night?

  The moment I ask myself this question, I put it out of my head. I do not need to know what a retired assassin does on a Saturday night out.

  Still, I wait.

  Tones I don’t recognize sing faintly from my laundry room off the kitchen. Startled, I look up from my Kindle I’m doing my best—but failing—to concentrate on. It’s not from my security system, but as I sit here trying to figure out what to do, I hear the garage door slam and Asa appears.

  I start to smile, but it dies quickly when I take in his face. My time with Asa isn’t vast, but I’ve never seen him like this. His expression is hard and every muscle in his body is tense.

  I stand and soften my voice. “Um, are you okay?”

  He stalks through the kitchen and doesn’t stop, making his way toward the front of my house. “I’m gonna shower.”

  “Oh.” I’m taken aback, wondering where he plans to shower, and decide to follow. “Do you need anything?”

  He jogs up my stairs and calls without looking back, “I’m good.”

  I follow him into my bedroom and see him digging through a huge duffle bag I didn’t realize he’d deposited here, pulling out a bottle of shampoo. It must have been during my marathon-nap. I don’t want to rouse the dogs or bother Emma and Levi, so I close my bedroom door. “Where did you go?”

  “Just want to take a shower, Keelie.” Without giving me a glance, he reaches over his head and fists his shirt behind his neck and pulls. Tossing it to the floor, I get a good look of his wide, muscled back as he heads into my bathroom and, without shutting the door, I hear the water to my shower flip on.

  Well, now.

  Are we to the point of showering with the door open?

  Since the door is still open, I guess Asa has decided we are.

  I sit at the end of my bed and wait, my foot bouncing a mile a minute, thinking of Asa naked, wet, and in my shower. With the door open.

  Why would he shut the door? Even if I haven’t seen him naked, I have felt every plane of his body. Every muscle, his heavy leg between mine, his arms … I had it all.

  I’m not sure how long I sit here thinking about all that is Asa while wondering what’s up with his disposition. I don’t know him well enough to read his moods.

  The water flips off and it’s all I can do not to lean back and peek in my bathroom. That would be embarrassing and weird, even if he did sort of invite it by leaving the door open. But when I hear him, I can’t stop myself from looking.

  He’s tossing his dirty clothes in a pile on my floor next to his bag as he runs a hand towel over the top of his head. Stray water droplets are chasing one another down his chest and my white fluffy towel is tucked low around his waist.

  He drops the damp hand towel on my carpet, which would throw me into a tizzy at any other moment that Asa wasn’t standing in front of me almost naked.

  “So, what do assassins do for fun on a Saturday night?” I ask, not knowing what else to say and my voice breaks in the process. Looking up into his hazel eyes that are penetrating mine, I’m forced to lick my lips so I can form the words and ask what’s really on my mind, “And, um, where are you planning on sleeping?”

  Chapter 17

  Brutally Beautiful

  Keelie

  Standing in front of me in only his towel, he crosses his arms, exhales, and his voice comes out gruff. “I was chasing down drug dealers, trying to find out who shot you and tried to shoot my daughter.”

  “Oh.” I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.

  “And I’m retired,” he corrects me.

  “Sorry.” I bite my lip and he narrows his eyes, so I add, “Did you find what you were looking for? I don’t know you well, but you don’t seem like yourself. Or the self I’m used to. You know, the one who encourages me to sleep and drink wine when I should be taking care of shit.”

  “Keelie,” he breathes, before leaning his head back to stare at my ceiling.

  “You don’t seem happy.”

  He looks down at me. “I’m not. All I learned tonight was the drive-by at my house was a warning to Emma. Our friend Raymond Wallace told me this, so I have no idea how true it is, but for some reason, my gut’s telling me it’s not far off the mark. So no, I’m the opposite of happy right now.”

  “A warning?” I ask. “A drive-by does not say warning. And why would anyone deliver a message like that to Emma?”

  “I have no fucking clue, and since she won’t tell me shit, it seems easier to chase down drug dealers than drag it out of her. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do with her. Danielle wants them to come to California for good—she’s on fire about it.” He rubs his face and shakes his head, and for the first time, I see a tinge of pain lying behind his rugged features. “I just got them back.”

  Seeing the hurt and worry in him is too much. I stand
to take a step and place a light hand on his abs. He’s warm, either from his shower or just being him. Without looking up, I lightly trace a scar spanning his abdomen to his side and change the subject. “How did you get this?”

  His breath caresses my forehead. “I was jumped in Central America.”

  I look up at him in question and without making me ask further, he gives me the truth, just as he said he always would.

  “It was almost eleven years ago. It had nothing to do with my work. I was on my way home from an assignment. My job was dangerous, but I controlled the situations.”

  I nod and look back to my fingers, bringing my other hand up, allowing myself the pleasure, the thrill, the exhilaration of being close to someone. Touching a man for the first time in what seems like an eternity. My heart strums as his breath feathers across my face.

  Oxygen.

  Heartbeats.

  Life.

  But more than all that combined…

  Trust.

  And it’s not just any man.

  This is Asa. No one in my life has made my heart speed, my blood warm, and my head spin without thought. The want and need is taking over my brain and body.

  But I hate to see him hurt. Just like when my kids hurt, I want to do anything and everything to take that away, because to see someone I care about in pain cuts me to the core.

  Of all the emotions flowing through me, this one wins. At this moment, I’d give everything I own to make him better.

  Feeling his hand at my face, he lifts my chin and without missing a beat, I push up on my toes and put my mouth on his.

  I lean into his bare chest and grip him at the waist to hold on, but I shouldn’t have worried. Tilting my head, I try to deepen my kiss, but it’s futile because his touch becomes firm and solid.

  He leans into me, thrusting his tongue in my mouth. His kiss is deep, savage, and when his hands drop to my waist, he yanks my shirt up enough to roam my bare skin.

  My name rumbles across his lips as if I’m as basic a need as oxygen. “Keelie.”

  I press into his chest, letting my nails rake over his skin, and I’m not sure how I knew my name was a question, but I sense he’s holding back, so I know it is.

  I pull away just enough to look up into his hazel eyes and whisper my answer, because without a doubt, I want to feel alive and no one’s ever made me feel more alive than Asa Hollingsworth. “Yes.”

  He looks down at me, his hair drying haphazardly, and I swear the green in his eyes darkens with lust.

  That gaze causes a spasm deep inside me.

  I nod, giving him yet another sign I want this, him … us.

  He shocks me. His hands whip up, fisting my shirt, and off it goes. Leaving me standing in my bra, he reaches for my hips again and pushes, taking my lounge pants and panties with them, his nails scraping my legs all the way.

  He grabs me by my waist on his way back up, and I grasp his shoulders when he lifts. When I wrap my legs around his muscled back, I feel my core open, causing my eyes to fall, and I press myself into him. With his hand at my ass, I gasp when my bra cup is pulled down roughly below my breast.

  I barely get a chance to see his lust-filled eyes on my body before his head dips and he pulls my nipple into his mouth.

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  My head lolls back and I dip my fingers into his hair, holding him in place, wanting more. A moan escapes from deep inside me when he sucks deep, scraping the tip of my nipple with his teeth. I rock against his abs, needing … something. A touch, friction, anything.

  He lets go of my breast and takes my mouth as my back hits the bed. His hands roam my body roughly—groping, squeezing—and every callused touch is Asa in every way. Rugged and sensual, yet giving. So giving, that when he spreads me and his hand settles between my legs, I find myself gasping for a breath.

  He pulls my other bra cup down, exposing me completely, and then I lose his touch everywhere but my pussy. I open my eyes to find him leaning over me, his hand on the bed beside my head with his arm extended. His eyes rake over my body—adding to the thrill of his minimal touch that’s not enough and too much at the same time—and he fills me with two fingers.

  I reach for him. “Come here.”

  He shakes his head. “Want to watch you come. Feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.”

  It’s only been a matter of weeks, but who am I to argue? I let my arms drop and fist the covers below me because all I can focus on are his fingers.

  His eyes are heated and watching what he’s doing. When he puts a thumb to my clit, he looks up and his gaze sears into mine. “This is just the start, baby.”

  A couple weeks ago, the start of anything was too overwhelming for me to think about.

  “You and me—we’re not going back from here.” His voice is smooth and laced with promise.

  I can’t think about that—I don’t have the words to express anything right now. Right now, I’m a little tingly, a lot warm, and am having an out-of-body experience. I put my feet to the bed to lift my ass, needing more.

  “You with me, Keelie?”

  I’m losing control. I’m not sure where else he’d think I’d be, so I nod since I can’t seem to form words. Asa—finger fucking me while rubbing circles on my clit—is driving me mad without any other touch. I’m fighting it off as much as I’m reaching for it, because I know when it flows through me, I’m done for.

  “Look at me, baby,” he croons, giving me more pressure. I drag my eyes open and he leans into my face, our noses brushing when he whispers, “Not going back, right?”

  Panting, I manage to shake my head a bit and he gives me just enough that I gasp. He puts his mouth on mine to drink up my moans, lowering his body to pin me in place, wringing me dry. I wrap my arms around him to keep him close as I try to catch my breath.

  He rustles around and I feel his towel disappear when he pulls his lips away from mine. “Need to get a condom.”

  I lean up to kiss him. “Don’t leave me, please. I’m on the pill.”

  His eyes roam my face for hardly a second when he scoops an arm under my back and moves us up the bed. The second I get my legs wrapped around his waist, he puts a hand under my ass to lift me and slams inside.

  It’s such a surprise, I hear myself call out since he isn’t there to quiet me with his mouth. When I look up, his eyes are hooded and I feel him exhale across my face. He doesn’t move, staying planted, filling and fulfilling me, all at the same time.

  His eyes close, and I didn’t know it was possible, but he grinds into me harder, rubbing my sensitive clit, sending shudders up my spine.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  “Fuck, yes,” he mutters, taking my mouth and pulling out to his tip before slamming into me again.

  His movements are fierce and unrestrained. Every time we come together in the most savage way, his muscles tense and I feel him everywhere.

  Besides the rumbling from his chest mingling with my whimpers, there are no words. It’s just Asa, all-encompassing, taking me at the same time giving me what I didn’t know I needed. I arch my back, pressing my head into the bed and he slams into my clit with every thrust.

  This time it’s different, my orgasm consuming me as Asa does. When there’s no way I can pull another breath into my lungs, I fall again. Fisting my hair, Asa takes my mouth right before his body jolts one last time when he comes inside me.

  Asa gives me his weight. I wouldn’t be able to move even if I wanted to. His big muscled body covers mine and now I know what he meant by making me hot and sweaty. He drags a hand down my side, landing on my ass and stroking the back of my thigh.

  Lifting his head from the bed, he takes my mouth, his lips moving on mine, finishing off the most brutally beautiful sex in the history of the world.

  “To answer your question from earlier,” he breathes across my lips, “I’m sleeping here. There’s no way you’re getting rid of me now. From now on, your Saturdays will never suck.”
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  Lying here squished to my mattress beneath him, relaxed, spent, and utterly drained, I’d be crazy to get rid of him. And he’s right. I’ve never had a Saturday like this.

  But still … ho-ly shit.

  *****

  Asa

  I didn’t lie—no way I’m leaving her now.

  I knew she’d be mine, but I didn’t plan for it to be tonight after returning to her, pissed the fuck off about all the shit swirling in my life.

  After I got Keelie cleaned up, she insisted on putting on a pair of panties and, at the very least, a shirt, in case her kids came in. I thought she’d be more concerned about having me in her bed, but since she didn’t mention it, neither did I. I don’t plan on leaving—to me it’s a non-issue.

  I finally got us settled and since she’s pressed against me, I can tell she’s tense.

  I pull her up and give her a squeeze. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” Her answer comes short, curt, and if it says anything, it’s not okay.

  “What’s wrong?” I look at her through the dark.

  She glances down at her fingers that are strumming my chest. “Well, tomorrow’s Sunday.”

  “You’re the most obsessed person with the days of the week I’ve ever met.”

  She looks up at me and bites her lip. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you and the kids to leave in the morning.”

  My brows furrow. “Why’s that?”

  Pulling in a big breath, she looks down at her hands again, not having the courage to say whatever she needs to while looking me in the eye. “I get together with my family every Sunday for brunch. Tomorrow is my day. My parents, my sister and her family, my great aunt—they’ll all be here.”

  I put my hand under her chin to look at her as I try not to smile. “What? Do you not have enough food for everyone?”

  She frowns. “It’s not that.”

  I kiss her and in the process, roll her to her back where my hips fall between her legs. Grinning, I go on. “You out of wine? Because I can fix that.”

  She narrows her eyes. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”