**
*
Miles got back to his Malibu home around two. The lights were all out in the sleepy beachside cul-de-sac and Miles flipped on the switch in his kitchen and was bathed in a bright yellow light. He cracked some eggs into a skillet and let them fry, adding some bacon and greens along with spices.
But he wasn’t that hungry, for some odd reason. The man who was built like a brick house and could lift a tremendous amount of weight didn’t have much of an appetite for once in his life. He didn’t know why, but he had an idea. He thought it had something to do with the girl he’d just met. The one he hadn’t been able to take his damn eyes off of.
He needed to clear his head. He shoveled the food down his throat and went out onto the patio with a stiff drink in hand. From there he watched the tide roll in onto the cliff side below him. Malibu was a gorgeous city, one of the least developed areas within Los Angeles. It was his home, and he never wanted to leave – although he knew one day he could have to, if he were ever caught.
But I’m the best – I’ll never be caught.
Another part of him disagreed. He’d seen hitmen like himself get caught plenty of times. All were capable, for the most part. None were at his level, but still. It was always a possibility; the chance of getting caught in a large FBI operation were always there. He had hundreds of deaths on his hands and he felt no remorse. He felt no curiosity about whether the men were good or bad. He simply existed. He simply lived to do his one job, which was to kill and earn cold, hard cash.
And Miles had cash. He had plenty of it to make himself disappear for good, with the help of a local he’d been introduced to some time ago. He was a man who claimed for half a million he could make a man vanish into thin air – new identity, new location, new face. Miles sat on the balcony in the dark of the night, watching the waves. He imagined having a new identity. That didn’t bother him much, because he didn’t have much of an identity now. He thought about a new location.
Well, as long as there’s a beach and low humidity, I’ll be alright.
He thought about a new face, and the thought didn’t disturb him a bit. Miles didn’t care for his physical image. He was too rugged for his own liking. He had a couple scars on his chin, his face was too chiseled and rough looking. He wouldn’t mind getting a new face. Either way, he hoped he’d never be caught – but tomorrow was a new day, and a new job.
And there was always the risk of being caught on the job.
**
*
Miles woke at dawn and ate breakfast. He left in his SUV and headed down the highway, taking a left onto Topanga Canyon and driving through the mountains. His target for the week was a man who lived on Mulholland Drive, a winding twenty-some mile road that stretched through the hills of Los Angeles, at the highest point in the city. There were breath taking views and at some hours, such as now, not much traffic.
It was five fifteen and the two lane blacktop was mostly clear. Sage brush and desert vegetation blew from the hills and through the headlight beams. Miles drove slowly, carefully. He didn’t want to attract any attention, especially with the rifle in his passenger seat. He took a right onto a narrow canyon road filled with luxury houses every which way – most of which were hidden behind large gates, only visible if you looked up into the hills. The houses were all were millions of dollars; the neighborhood being Bel-Air.
Miles stopped in the driveway of one of the houses and reversed, then turned back up the hill and went the opposite direction. From there he stopped behind a row of cars in front of an old apartment building and stepped out, rifle slung around his shoulder. He walked back down the hill and inspected a mailbox on his left. It was the house he needed.
He peered towards the guard rail, looking for a camera. All the houses had them, he just needed to find it – but lucky he wore a black ski mask over his face, so the camera wouldn’t do much good anyways. But he liked to avoid them when he could. He spotted the camera, which was facing southwest. Avoiding it by staying on the northern edge of the front lawn, he hopped into the air and grabbed hold of the brick barricade that surrounded the gate on both sides. From there he pulled himself up and over it, hopping down into the yard and surveying the scene. It was all quiet. No dogs, just as he’d expected. He’d been studying the man for a week now and had never heard a bark, so probably no dogs inside either.
He made his way toward the house and then shimmied up a column and climbed up onto the top portion of the roof. Inching his way quietly toward one of the windows, he wiped his face. It was unusually cool for this time of year, but he was still sweating. He felt nervous for some reason. Something seemed off, but he didn’t know what.
He crawled to the window as silently as a ninja, and then pulled his rifle from his shoulder and aimed it into the room. It was a dark bedroom, the shapes barely visible, but he could make out the lump beneath the king sized bed’s sheets. He could also make out the head, which belonged to his victim. Aiming with his scope, he waited until he had a clear shot through the side of the man’s head which was propped up on a pillow.
The man was fast asleep; the shape of his body moving calmly up and down beneath the blankets. Miles pulled the trigger and the silenced shot rang out with a high pitched whooshing noise. The man’s breathing stopped.
He crawled back down the way he came; shimmying down the column and climbing over the brick barricade. Then he walked calmly to his car, ready to hop into the brush upon first sight of any oncoming headlights. No one came. He was safe. He got into the car and started home. For this head he’d been paid three hundred thousand dollars – an easy thirty minutes of work for a high price. This made quitting the profession less and less desirable for Miles.
When he got home he took a walk on the beach, staring out at the waves and the sun which had begun to rise slowly in the sky. The dawn sky was pink and purple and completely beautiful, and Miles couldn’t help but wonder about the woman he’d met. He’d been given lots of numbers, and rarely called them, but this one was going to be an exception.
In fact, Miles could hardly wait to call her, but he did.
He gave it a good three days before picking up his cell phone and digging the business card out of his jacket. Then he sat down on his balcony which overlooked the Pacific and dialed the digits. She picked up on the third ring, and from that moment on they both knew that falling in love was inevitable…
*
FOUR
Alexandra came over that night. She was wearing a long black dress which seemed to be made from high quality silk. She looked stunning, and she even managed to make his jaw drop – which was no easy feat. He was a hitman after all; hardened to the core. He watched her walk in as she glanced around his home. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The waves smashed against the cliff side below him and he stared at Alexandra with longing eyes. He wanted to fuck her; to take her hard and show her how a real man performs in bed – but he knew that could ruin it. He couldn’t let things happen too soon. After all, that was a bad habit of his, and it had ruined the few relationships he’d had in the past.
“Can I get you a drink?” He asked.
“What do you have?”
“Everything.”
“How about a glass of champagne? We could have a toast.”
“To what?” He smiled, walking toward the bar.
“To the prospect of a new friendship… Or hopefully something more.”
Miles filled her crystal glass with bubbling, light champagne. Then he filled a glass for himself, halfway up like always. Miles didn’t like getting drunk and losing control. It had happened in the past, so he kept his alcohol intake at bay. He tipped his glass against hers and took a long, slow sip.
“Delicious,” she said finally, “You have good taste.”
“Thanks,” he said, “Where’d you drive here from?”
Alexandra smiled, leaning up against the bar. She crossed her athletic, tanned legs slightly and stared lustfully at Miles. It was
a look that was hot enough and seductive enough to make his cock stiffen, which it did. She licked her lips and said, “Hollywood.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Bordering West Hollywood, barely up in the hills. I’ve got a fairly affordable old one bedroom apartment.”
“Nice area,” he said, “I lived in the hills for a while, until I came out here.”
“Let’s cut the bullshit,” Alexandra said, setting her glass with a clank onto the bar. She stepped close to Miles and took him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him in close. He could feel her hot, minty breath beat against his neck, “I think we both know what we want… But we’re both fighting the urge.”
“I sure as hell am,” Miles rasped.
“And what is it that you want?”
Miles paused and let his eyes wash over her. Her milky complexion, high cheek bones, dark hair… And those massive, light blue eyes. They were almost gray, and it made him shudder with lust as he stared at them along with her lean, feminine neck. He wanted to thrust his tongue in her mouth and grope her crotch. He wanted to throw her on the couch and untuck his shirt. He wanted to whip off his belt and toss it to the ground, along with his pants.
He wanted to show what she’d been missing all these years.
“You’re not ready,” he said casually.
“Or maybe you’re not ready,” she said.
“I could throw you on that sofa and fuck you harder than you’d ever been fucked… Right here, right now…”
“But it would be a mistake?”
“This soon, yes. I barely know you, and vice versa.”
She released him from her grip and stepped away slightly, biting her lip in a seductive manner, “I’m sorry… I usually… Usually I’m not so up front and slutty acting – I just want you, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met.”
Miles could feel his cock hardening in his slacks. There was a big bulge pressing against them, “Believe me, I want to fuck you. But I’ve fucked many girls, and I always end up regretting it when I meet someone who seems special and I… I take all the specialness away by just plowing them. I’m bad to the bone and I’m horny as a sonuvabitch, but I can’t let myself ruin this one too… I want to get to know you before I let you be fucked by me me. I want you to get to know me before I get to experience you… But that said… There’s always room for a little playing around.”
“Playing around?”
Miles set his glass on the bar, and walked toward her. He straightened his tie and then grabbed her suddenly and thrust her onto the sofa which sat behind her. He untucked his shirt and hastily unbuttoned it, and then slung it to the ground. He was wearing nothing but a white tank top which looked plastered to his muscular frame, and he quickly tore it off to reveal his muscular tattooed body, which was absolutely perfect.
“My god…” Alexandra gasped.
“I’m not going to fuck you yet,” he whispered, crawling over her lap, “I’m just going to make you wish I did.”
He neared his face toward hers, and then dove in for the kiss. As his lips locked with hers, an invisible fire seemed to ignite. They made out passionately as he felt up her voluptuous breasts and even slipped his hand up her dress and fondled her through the lacy thong she wore. Her gasps filled the spacious den as she slung her head back and let out a guttural sounding groan of pleasure, “Oh… Oh god, I want you so bad, but not yet…”
Miles could barely control himself. He was ready to whip his big cock out and fuck her right then and there, but he knew he had to use some self-control. He had to restrain himself, although it was damn near impossible. His sex drive was at an all-time high and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so horny. His cock was so hard that it hurt as it bulged against the slim fitting dress pants he wore.
Alexandra ran her soft finger tips over his muscular abs. She could feel every chiseled line, every striation in his muscles… She was getting wet; the crotch of her thong had begun to feel cold from the moisture she was emitting. She moaned as she ran her tongue across his barrel chest, “You’re so fit,” she said softly, “God, you’re turning me on…”
He went in for another kiss and they made out for five minutes. Occasionally she’d slip her tongue out of his mouth and let it run along his tatted up body. Occasionally he’d press his fingers harder against the crotch of her thong, barely able to contain his horny nature – barely resisting the massively intense urge to fuck her.
He pulled away and stared into her eyes and smiled. Then he crawled off her and threw his tank top back on, “Come out to the balcony with me?” He asked.
She followed him onto the spacious balcony. The ocean was dark and brooding, and the sky was filled with stars. The moon was high and it cast a gorgeous white light over the sea. She followed him to the corner of the balcony where he sat with his champagne glass dangling over the edge, leaned up on the railing with his elbows. His muscular triceps jutted out dominantly as he peered back at her.
“You’ve got such a gorgeous place. I’m a little embarrassed we fooled around before I even got a chance to see it. I’m sorry I came onto you like that, I-”
He hushed her with a fingertip to her lips. “Shh,” he murmured, “If you hadn’t come onto me, I’d have come onto you. Besides, we both wanted it. It was just a little fooling around… I haven’t even shown you what I’m packing yet.”
“Big talk.”
“I’ve got the package to back it up,” he laughed.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“You really want it, don’t you?” He asked.
“More than anything I can think of right now,” her voice shook with lust.
“Well you’re not going to get it, honey. Not just yet.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. My cock, my rules. And I’m saving it for another time…”
She smiled anxiously and looked somewhat embarrassed, “Well I didn’t want it that bad, anyway.”
“And when I do give it to you, you’re going to wish you were better prepared. I’m sure you’ve never been really fucked before – at least not the way I fuck.”
Miles changed the conversation quickly, beginning to ask about her personal life and backstory. He learned about where she was from, what her family was like, and why she’d moved to L.A. Like most girls, she’d moved here to make it back. She came with big dreams at the age of nineteen and had them crushed by a harsh reality. After years of waiting tables and going to school, she’d finally completed her law degree and managed to form a successful practice.
She made good money, of course nowhere near what Miles made; but her business was legitimate at least. Good for her, he thought. When asked what he did for a living, he replied again with the writer and investor excuse. His lips twitched slightly when he said this, and then they broadened into a smile. He wasn’t good at lying to people like this. Not to people he cared about. And although he’d only known Alexandra for a short period of time, he was finding himself caring more and more about her each passing second.
Which was why he stayed single. It was why he didn’t do these things. Relationships and Miles Rockland didn’t mix, and yet….
He wanted her so bad. He ate her up with his piercing blue eyes as she stood before him; dress billowing in the sea breeze. She sipped her drink after the conversation had slowed down and stared back at him, occasionally chuckling and looking down nervously at her high-heeled feet.
“You are just so fucking beautiful. In a city with so many good looking women, you stand out in the crowd… You tower above all of them,” Miles said.
“I appreciate that,” She laughed softly – again, looking down bashfully at her feet. When she finally looked back up at him, he grabbed her by the face and kissed her.
“How about dinner and a movie?” He asked, “And maybe by the time we get back… I won’t be able to resist these rules of mine.”
**
FIVE
&n
bsp; They ate seafood. They laughed and talked and Miles was the cocky bad boy he always was, but he was having a hard time with himself because of one thing. One big, dirty, bloody secret. His profession.
I’m starting to fall for her, and she’s got no idea what I even do for a living.
“This place has the best lobster,” Alexandra said with a mouthful of lobster tail.
“Even better cheesecake.”
The waiter served them each a large chunk of a slice of cheesecake which they gobbled down hungrily. Miles finished his off with a long island iced tea and the two of them stared out at the ocean which roared beneath the rafters of the restaurant’s back balcony.
“It’s getting late,” Alexandra said.
“Better finish up that cheesecake.”
“I’m hungry for something else, though.”
“Like what?”
“Like you.”
**
He led her to his car and opened the door for her. As he slammed it shut he smirked to himself while walking around the front of the car to the driver’s side. He was going to fuck this good girl and show her how a real man made love… But he wondered if she’d be able to handle it – and he also wondered whether or not he’d be able to keep his secret much longer.
You have to, Miles. Besides, you told the partial truth at least. You really are an author, and a bestselling one at that.
He decided that he’d have to tell her, however, if the relationship went much further. To tell her now would be an absolute disaster, since Miles didn’t particularly have the best score as far as maintaining a lasting relationship went. He might as well walk into the police station and confess instead of telling this girl he barely knew.
Regardless, it was at the back of his mind. As he cruised back down the coast to his mansion the only thing at the front of his mind was her sexy body, and how she was seductively draping her leg over his lap, sitting sideways in her seat and twirling the bubble gum from her mouth with the tip of her finger. He wasn’t going to go easy on her, that was for sure – and he wasn’t sure she’d walk straight after – but he didn’t care.
Assassin's Baby (A Bad Boy Romance) Page 2