An Asssassin's Kiss

by Serenity Snow

  Jasmia blinked at him. “What?” What would make him think they had a future? He was never what she wanted or even what she’d needed. He’d been what her parents thought was right for her, and she knew they still hoped they got back together.

  They’d even suggested she go out with him again. He was after all a cat shifter too, an orange tabby in his animal form. They thought cat shifters should stay with their own kind in order to perpetuate their family shifter bloodlines.

  Seymour gave her a warm smile and reached for her hand. “Come on, Jasmia. We both know we only broke up because I decided to go to the Army. I understand you didn’t want to wait, but even after six years, you’re still the only one I want.”

  Jasmia retracted her hand as she heard the back door bang open. She turned nervously to see her sister coming out. She brushed her braid over her shoulder as she met her older sister Natasha’s eyes. Natasha wiggled her brows and grinned at her.

  “You’re staying for dinner right, little sis?” Natasha asked, going to put an arm around Jasmia’s shoulders and pull her in for a brief hug. “I made roast.”

  She glanced at her watch. “I can’t,” she said. “I have an interview in thirty minutes.” Her new assignment had just come down today, but she didn’t have an interview until tomorrow.

  “That’s perfect for me,” he said but his eyes were dark with disapproval. “I tend to eat a little later in the evening myself. We can grab some dinner after your interview.”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” Natasha said with a grin. “You don’t really get out that much. You hardly date.”

  Seymour grinned. “I’m the answer to a prayer then.”

  A prayer never prayed.

  She’d had the best sex of her life nine months ago in Maine and there was nothing he could do to match it.

  She’d been trying for eight months to forget the sexy woman who’d rocked her world and left her with only a note and the delicate necklace with the handcuff charm she always wore hidden beneath her blouses. For that one week she’d been happy and had known the kind of freedom she’d been dreaming of her whole life.

  Not once had she pretended to be anything other than a lesbian.

  “That’s just not good for me,” Jasmia said quickly. “After the interview I have to organize my notes for the story.”

  “You need to quit that job,” Natasha muttered. “Working around those freaks isn’t good for you. You don’t even come to church since you started hanging out with that girl—what’s her name? Chloe?”

  Jasmia rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with Chloe,” she muttered. She and her lover and their friends weren’t shifters, but they were good people.

  “Next thing you know she’s going to be setting you up on blind dates with other women,” Natasha snapped.

  “Wait, that’s just wrong!” Seymour exploded. “You’re an attractive woman, Jasmia. You shouldn’t be stooping to—to dating women.” The lines of his face formed a mask of disgust.

  “If I was ugly it would be fine?” Jasmia demanded coldly.

  He tried to touch her, and she jerked out of his reach. “I’m sure your friend is a nice woman, but her lifestyle is sick and unnatural. You can’t allow yourself to get caught up in that.”

  He said it like she had a choice. She was born liking girls. It was dating men that was unnatural for her.

  “I need to go,” she said and headed inside.

  Seymour grabbed her arm, and she hissed at him as she struck out with a suddenly clawed hand. His touch pissed her cat off like it never had.

  “Damn, girl.” He caught her wrist before she could do any damage. “What’s up with that?”

  “You caught me by surprise,” she said. She didn’t act that way with the Dommes at the club. She enjoyed their touch even though it wasn’t Axana’s. She craved her even more now than she had nine months ago.

  Jasmia knew she was in heat which only intensified her desire for the one woman who’d captivated her heart and given her body unspeakable pleasure.

  “You’re in heat,” he said softly. “Let me ease it for you.”

  “No.” Calico breeds were known as the gentler cat shifter. Always girls and when they fell in love, they always gave everything they had. Cat shifters could mate more than once in a lifetime, but unlike some cat breeds, calicos mated for life. Therefore, their couplings were just to ease the heat until they met their true mate.

  “I understand if you experimented, but let’s just put that behind us,” he murmured. “I can give you what you need right now.”

  She would get sex at the club tonight.

  “There is no us,” she muttered. “You chose the military, so go find yourself another woman.” His career path hadn’t had anything to do with things, but right now it was easier to allow him to think it had.

  “I was preparing for our future. You broke it off with me!”

  “We didn’t have a future when you decided to leave me,” she snapped. “Now it’s my turn to leave.” Jasmia pulled free because he let her and pushed past him. She didn’t want to go through this with him. She had finally gotten up the courage to have a life that made her happy even if she was hiding it and she wasn’t going to allow him to take that from her.

  She burst out the front door with his voice following her. Jasmia ignored him.

  “Jasmia, if you just went out with me again, you’d see just how right we are for each other,” Seymour called. “One date.”

  “No.” She climbed into her car, and he held the door. “Seymour, I’m going to be late.”

  He let the door go and it was clear from the look in his eyes it was with reluctance. “We’ll talk later,” he said. “I’ll come by your place about eight. I’ll bring dinner.”

  “Don’t do that,” she insisted. “I need to finish my story. Goodbye, Seymour.” Jasmia started her four-door and backed out of the drive. She saw him standing there with a determined look on his face that bothered her.

  ****

  Seymour gritted his teeth at the very thought of his woman sleeping with anyone else let alone another woman. Yeah, some men fantasized about two women together but he wasn’t one of them. That shit freaked him out.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it free. The message came over the secure line, and he headed next door to his parents’ home. He’d been visiting them and left his car in the circular driveway. He climbed in, glad he’d pocketed his keys instead of dropping them inside.

  He’d call them later and let them know he’d had to take off for work. He was certain he’d be finished by eight. Then, he’d head to his apartment and shower before stopping off to pick up her favorite meal.

  He would get her back no matter how much showing up on her doorstep it took.

  Chapter Two

  The Hatter gave his companion a cool stare beneath the harsh glow of lights in the country club’s restaurant. This was just one more meeting in a series he’d had since he’d come to town, and he would be here another week unfortunately.

  He was already missing his home and his lover but business was business. He needed to get things set up here so they’d be able to run smoothly later.

  “Everything is on track,” Black Jack told him quietly.

  The expansion of his business was important now that the remnants of competition had been taken out. The State’s Attorney and his pal had been running a very lucrative little business in the state and this city had been one of their most fertile grounds for drug and weapons trafficking. Now, it was his.

  “How’s your team working out?” The Hatter asked.

  “My second in command is ex-military too, and he’s ready to prove himself.”

  “Good.” He’d hired Black Jack when he was still in the service. A chance meeting had brought him to this man who’d seemed in need of something more. He was gung ho to do his job and good at it, but discontent.

  The Hatter liked men with experience in fighting wars. Their job was nothing
less than a battle ground at times. They needed to know how to handle themselves without cracking. “What about Mojo?”

  The mercenaries could become a pain in his ass and he wanted to take them out now.

  “They’re not taking any new hires,” his companion replied.

  Their last mole had been handpicked by him, and they’d figured out the girl was a plant within a month for reasons he didn’t understand. He’d love to know how they’d realized so fast. In fact, he’d put the entire organization on payroll if they told him how they’d seen through the carefully constructed façade.

  They hadn’t tracked her to him though. They’d thought she was the Cell’s.

  His companion shook his head. “We need someone on the inside or a deal Mojo can’t refuse if we’re going to get them out of the picture,” he said. “We can’t get a line on which dealer they use, and they’re being careful with the feds on their asses.”

  “Are they still trying to nail them for the Cell murders?” the Hatter asked.

  “Yes, but they aren’t making any headway. With the feds on our asses my advice is that you don’t go through with the meeting at the shelter fundraiser because we have no idea which part of the government hires Mojo. They might be looking to get us now.”

  The Hatter smiled. He didn’t think he had anything to worry about just yet. “That’s the best place. The buyer’s the only fed that will be there,” he said with a smile.

  That was why he had to be present. The agent had demanded a face-to-face to discuss a permanent arrangement. He wasn’t opposed to that since he liked knowing who he was dealing with as well. The final exchange would take place in the new warehouse he was stocking for his company’s products.

  He’d decided the business would be a perfect cover for the drugs he was dealing in. They weren’t just your garden variety fun-makers. He dealt in opiates and some high-ass cancer meds that people couldn’t afford. He could sell them for cheaper and still turn a nice profit that kept his lover in pocket money.

  “I think though that dragging the kids into this is crazy. The operation will be that much more difficult to maintain and run.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” the Hatter told him coldly.

  “I don’t doubt it, but I think you should reconsider that part of the plan. Drop some cash on the shelter, help those kids, but don’t continue to go through with this.”

  “There’s no one in this town that can take me on, and I have a similar set up in Texas,” the Hatter told him acerbically. “It’s running fine.”

  “You have control of that city,” Black Jack muttered. “Even the Mexican cartels know to give you a wide berth, but here you’re the new kid on the block and my intelligence tells me the Cell never completely had this city because there was opposition here. Even the feds don’t know who they are yet.”

  “Don’t be a coward.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting to take,” The Hatter said. “We’ll talk later.”

  “The pharmaceutical rep?”

  “Yep.”

  “It was damn clever of you to get involved in that,” he murmured. “What possessed you?”

  “Seeing people die because they can’t afford the meds they need.”

  Chapter Three

  Ace Baker tossed back a shot of vodka and sighed as it burned its way down her throat. She’d been pretty busy these last few weeks and was looking to spend the night with a willing woman and a whip.

  She was in heat and needed to get laid in the worst way. Her breed of shifter, the Bengal housecat, went into heat every month for five to seven days. During which time, she craved sex with S&M. The cat liked a little pain with sex, but she didn’t need to control her lovers beyond that moment. When the heat was over, so was her need to even see them.

  By the same token, the Bengal was one of a few house cat shifter breeds that did mate for life. They were as dangerous as the tiger they partially resembled in their cat form. She was silver-gray with black patches that resembled stripes.

  She surveyed the floor of the club again as she searched for a woman that looked like her type. There were plenty of gorgeous women here tonight in tight short skirts and barely there blouses. There were too many blondes showing too much skin and not enough style.

  She shook her head as she turned back to the bar and signaled the blond bartender .

  He gave her a nod and sauntered over. “Another?”

  “Please.”

  As he poured, a woman climbed onto the stool next to her. “Ace of Spades,” she drawled. “Ben, the drink’s on the house.”

  Ace threw her a look and smiled. “Alexi. What’s up, babe?” Like her, Alexandra was a Russo-American but she had ebony hair and startling blue eyes set in a copper-brown face. Her log dark lashes added to the exotic appeal making it hard to tell her ethnicity.

  Alexi smiled, showing white teeth. “Same ol’,” she replied in her slow Southern twang. “What’s up with you?”

  Ace tossed back her drink. Aside from a few annoyances, she was just the same, overworked, decadently compensated, and horny as hell. She shrugged one shoulder. “Rolling with the punches.”

  Alexi laughed. “Which punches would those be?” she drawled, a brow lifted in query.

  Ace chuckled. Alexi was well aware of what she did for a living. She did something similar and this club was a pretty front. No Dice was two clubs in one, providing socializing and casual hookups to a BDSM sex club. The playrooms were well laid out with most things a woman could need on a play date including poof all clients were free of STDs.

  Some things came with a price, but what was a little money when a night of relaxation and pleasure were at stake?

  “The low ones,” Ace murmured and turned to survey the floor. “Anything new and interesting come in lately?”

  Alexi shrugged. “What do you have against blondes?” she teased.

  Nothing much or she hadn’t until nine months ago before her trip. The sand had been warm, but the woman she’d picked up had been smoking hot with a compact body that made her wet. Everything about Jasmia had been sweet from her smile to the taste of her pussy.

  She’d never been one to crave a home, nor had she ever gone back to a lover after the fling was over. However, that woman had made a good M to her S without being clingy. Yet there was something more, something so intriguing about Jasmia that made her want another seven days with her.

  Hell, you’ve lost your mind. She ran her fingers through her thick chestnut brown hair. Temporary insanity, too long without, and good pussy is all that was.

  “Nothing worth mentioning.” Ace flashed a smile.

  Alexi grunted. “You make me wonder,” she said, humor in her eyes. “Business or pleasure?”

  “Strictly pleasure.” That could change in a heartbeat.

  “A cute little brunette comes in three times a week, and she likes being dominated. She’s into BDSM rather than just S&M, but a gorgeous treat started coming in eight months ago looking to be trained. She took our classes but she’s not looking for a full-time Domme/sub relationship.”

  She was going to be here a while since her partner had decided they needed to set up a permanent base, so they’d chosen Louisiana. They’d both grown up in New Orleans in the city of a sub-culture neither of them had ever discussed with their employees. The freakish nature of who they really were had demanded silence early on and that silence, deeply ingrained in them, had continued.

  Neither of them had wanted to return to New Orleans, so they’d settled near Shreveport. Here, they both had common ties they respected and were amongst the few they counted as true friends.

  “Is she here?” Ace asked.

  Alexi glanced around. “Just arriving,” she said and nodded toward the arch of the doorway that led out into a corridor. “I’ll find out if she’s up for play. Go to the west wing. Six is already stocked as per your request.”

  She’d stopped in the last time she was here and joined the club. The west wing housed the
sex club which included a small lounge for meeting and drinks along with the playrooms.

  “If she’s not interested, I’ll find someone else more your type,” Alexi assured her with a smile. “In the closet you’ll find a small supply pack left by the chambermaid who normally services your room.”

  “Thanks.”

  She climbed from the stool as did her friend and she headed to the side of the spacious room where she stepped through a doorway leading to the bathrooms as well as the exit from here to the west wing. The breezeway between was more of a small sunroom with a few seating groupings arranged to take advantage of the view into the garden beyond.

  The old building had been renovated and expanded before being turned into a beautiful spot for lesbian night life. It was almost thirty minutes outside the city but it was worth the drive for the beauty and the freedom from scrutiny of the curious and malicious.

  She entered the west wing to the soft scent of vanilla orchids and murmurs of conversation from the lounge. Ace picked them up more easily than the normal human ear would because she was a cat shifter.

  She was a freakish mutant for her kind in that she was a normal Bengal housecat breed that could shift into the bigger form of the jungle cat if the moment demanded it. Though normally that part of her nature was submerged beneath the small creature she went out on the prowl as on occasion.

  “Lady.” A chambermaid passed, gaze down and a caddy of cleaning supplies in one hand.

  “Hello, Amanda.” She continued until she reached her room. Stepping inside she found it as she liked it. Neat and the scent of something … was that Amanda she scented?

  If she were in her cat form, her tail would be sticking out straight right now as it was her head tilted as she took in each scent. Something wasn’t right. She growled softly, the sound in her mind that of the Bengal tiger she became at will in times of danger.

  She hadn’t brought any of her tools of the trade into the club, but the supply back in the closet should contain the small jammer that blocked the signal of cell phones and the scrambler than would render bugs inoperable.