by Sam Crescent
****
Ria was already outside the building that housed the law office and heading towards Restaurant Row when her phone rang. She fished it out of her purse, making a face when she saw the name on the screen. Great. Just what I need.
She hit the “accept” button. “Hi, Mr. Davis. No, I’m not in the office. Mr. Montrose asked me to—right now? Can I send it after lunch?”
She stopped, listening and silently cursing the man on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’ll go back and send it now. All right. Yes, sir, I’ll see you later.”
“I need that Watts file now, Ria.” No you don’t, pendejo, you just want to screw up my lunch. Fuming, she retraced her steps back to the office, opening the outer door and slipping inside. The waiting area was empty, and she could hear voices in Freddy Ray’s office. The lawyer was louder than usual, and sounded angry.
Going to her desk, she moved her mouse to wake up her computer. One of these days, I swear I’m going to give Davis a piece of my mind—
“No!”
Freddy Ray’s cry was followed by a strange, sharp phut-phut noise. A third phut sounded, then the thud of something heavy landing on the floor. Ria froze, straining to hear any hint of Freddy Ray’s voice. Nothing.
That was a silencer. Dios mio. Her muscles unlocked and she darted around the desk, heading for the door. She had to get out of there, get down to the street, call 911—
A hand grabbed her arm, almost jerking it out of its socket as she was spun around. She thumped against the wall, knocking down the antique map of Dallas that hung there. Mr. Jackson yanked her hands over her head and held them against the wall while he clapped his free hand across her mouth, cutting off her scream.
Cold blue eyes stared down at her. “You weren’t supposed to be back until one.”
It wasn’t my fault! Oh, God, she was going to die because of Davis and his stupid e-mail. Trembling, she tried to suck in a breath through her nose, ready to beg, plead, promise anything. The resinous scent of rosemary was stronger now, wafting from him on his body heat. The smell and the good associations it held helped her wrestle down her panic, forcing herself to calm.
His eyelids flickered in grudging appreciation. “Are you going to scream?”
She shook her head.
“You won’t like what I do if you scream.”
This time she nodded, hoping he understood. He lifted his hand and she swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. “I f-forgot my wallet. It was in my desk.”
“Huh.” His lips pursed. “You should be more careful about that.”
This close, she could smell cinnamon on his breath, see the fine grain of his skin, a dark shadow already showing across his cheeks and chin. His slightly squashed nose and narrowed eyes made him look like a thug, but it was his lips that she kept staring at, those firm, carved lips that looked like they were made for hungry kisses. It was worth a try, a hysterical voice in the back of her head said. After all, what was the worst he could do? Kill her? Dios mio, please no—
She went up on tiptoe. Even then she barely reached his mouth. His lips were as firm as they looked, and cooler than she expected against hers. The cinnamon flavor was stronger, as well. Gum? No, some kind of pastry, a cinnamon roll, the rich taste of sugar under the spice. She held the kiss as long as she dared, putting every ounce of desire she had into it. When she dropped back down, she licked her lips, tasting cinnamon and sugar.
It was the last sweetness she might ever taste.
****
Colton stared down at the gorgeous little secretary, wondering why she’d kissed him. Not that he objected. The kiss was a hell of a lot better than a scream, and he didn’t have to break her neck for doing it.
Not to mention she had a dynamite set of tits, a perfect handful, and he enjoyed the way they’d rubbed against his chest even through three layers of clothing. His cock twitched in agreement, and for a moment he debated bending her back over the desk and fucking her then and there.
The only problem was, he didn’t want to fuck her if he had to kill her, and he had to kill her. She knew he’d taken care of Freddy Ray—she would’ve heard the gun, even with the silencer. Which meant he couldn’t let her live. Goddamn it, why did she have to come back?
He eyed her again. Shit, she was lush, all warm, soft woman under that boring-ass office wear. In addition to the great tits she had a sweet little nipped-in waist, an ass like two melons, and an angel’s face with huge whiskey-colored eyes and full, rosy lips. He wondered what they would look like wrapped around his cock while she drained him dry. It had been a while since he’d indulged in some ass. What was it, three months ago? Yeah, that week he spent down in Barbados after the Wilkerson job.
Things south of the border twitched again, prompting him to make a decision. He knew damn well she was coming on to him in the hope that he wouldn’t kill her. But there had been real heat in that kiss, a promise that he wanted to explore.
“I’m gonna tell you what we’re going to do,” he said quietly. “We’re going to go down to the parking garage. We’re going to get in my car, and you’re going to drive. I’m going to have my gun pointed at you, and I will shoot you in the gut if you try anything stupid. It’s a bad way to die, so you’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”
She nodded jerkily. “Where are we going?”
That was a good question. He’d already checked out of his hotel. The plan had been to head back to DFW Airport, drop off the car, pick up his own, and drive back to Shreveport. “You live nearby?”
Another nod. “On Record.”
He had a vague idea where that was. Close enough to Woodall Rogers for him to navigate back to DFW. “Anyone there? Roommate, family?”
“No.”
“Okay. We’re gonna drive over there. You scream, try to signal anyone, and I kill both of you. Understand?”
A third nod.
He let her go, bringing her right arm down so that he could link his left through it and hold her in place. “Let’s go.”
****
For once, Ria was grateful for the insanity that was Dallas traffic. It meant she had to concentrate on the cars, trucks, and pedestrians trying to cut her off and not on the man sitting next to her, a Glock pointing at her stomach.
She pulled into the parking garage next to her apartment building, heading up to the second level and parking in her assigned slot. His car didn’t have her parking sticker, which could cause trouble if he stayed for more than an hour. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “We’re here.”
“All right.” He slid the gun into a holster at the small of his back. “I’m gonna come around and get you. Just sit there and be a good girl.”
She nodded, mouth dry. He got out and moved quickly to the driver’s side, opening the door for her like they were on a date. “Come on.”
She undid the seat belt and let it slide back, taking his hand and getting out. He held onto her while she locked and closed the door. The garage was half-full of cars but no people. Nearby, the Woodall Rogers Freeway roared with traffic, the echoing noise more than enough to cover a single shot even without the silencer.
She led him to the elevator. When it opened, she wanted to cry when she saw one of her neighbors, an annoyingly bubbly blonde named Katie. As far as Ria could tell, the woman’s two hobbies were bathing in Dior J’adore and hitting on anything with a penis and a pulse.
“Oh, hey, girl!” Katie caroled, before spotting Jackson. She batted a thick set of false eyelashes at him, stepping back to make room on the elevator. “Can y’all believe this weather? It’s so nice out there today!”
“Uh, yeah,” Ria mumbled, getting on with Jackson in tow. “Nice.”
The large man crowded the small car, pressing up against Ria. Katie peered up at him with a flirtatious smile. “Well, hello there, handsome. I know I haven’t seen you around before.”
Ria felt the gun press against her side, urging her to say something. “He’s a
friend. From, um, work.” Stupid puta, go play with a fucking vibrator and stop trying to get both of us killed.
Katie cranked the flirtatiousness up to eleven. “Work husband, huh? I know how that goes. Well, if you don’t have enough to do, handsome, come find me. I bet I can keep you busy.” The elevator door opened and she strutted off. “Y’all have fun now!”
The doors closed again and Ria’s muscles unclenched. “You can kill her if you want,” she muttered.
He snorted. “At least she wouldn’t leave any brains on the wall.”
A manic giggle bubbled up and she swallowed it. The elevator finally opened on her floor and she turned right, leading him to her apartment door. Pulling the keys out of her purse, she couldn’t stop them from jingling as her hand trembled, fumbling to fit the key in the lock.
A big, warm hand covered hers, guiding the key home. Que alguien escuche mi rezo y que me saque de aquí.
May someone hear my prayer and get me out of here. When there was no reply, she knew she was on her own. Taking a deep breath, she let him in.
****
Colton eyed the apartment. It was small but decently laid out, the entry opening directly onto the kitchen with a combo dining room/living room beyond. A balcony at the far end let in bright Dallas sunlight, reflected by the white walls and woodwork. A door to the right led to the bathroom, judging by the glint of tile he could see. There was another door on the opposite wall, presumably to her bedroom. “This the only entrance?”
Ria nodded, biting her lip. “There’s the balcony, but we’re five floors up.”
He grunted. That idiot blonde had one thing right—it was a nice day, too warm to keep his suit jacket on. He stripped it off and tossed it on the tiny kitchen island. “Any pets?”
She shook her head, wisps of hair working out of her neat chignon. It made her look softer, not quite so buttoned down. “I’m allergic.”
He had to admire her self-control. Most women would have screamed their heads off once they saw someone they recognized, but this sweet little thing had played it cool, then suggested he off the idiot blonde. He liked that.
He decided to probe a bit. “Boyfriend?”
Another headshake.
“Come on. Pretty lady like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?”
Mahogany eyes hardened, meeting him head-on. There was fear there, but fire as well. He liked that. “I’m choosy about who I date.”
That had to be a poke at him. “Oh, I’m sure you are,” he drawled. “Classy lady like you, I bet you only go out with men who make half a million a year, minimum.”
“That’s not what I meant. Don’t make me sound like a snob.”
He sighed. “That doesn’t make you a snob, cher, just realistic. All women like a man with money.”
Her glare heated. “I don’t care if a man has money. Most rich guys I’ve met are assholes. I’d rather have a loyal guy who’s poor than a rich jerk.”
Loyal, not good. Interesting. He appreciated the difference. Good guys were a dime a dozen, but loyalty was a rare and precious thing, especially in his line of work. “I hear you. So, no pets, no boyfriend. What do you do for fun, Miss Guzman?”
She frowned at that. “How do you know my name?”
That was easy. “I always scope out a location before I start a job. Who’s working there, what they’re called, are they connected to anyone important. When I found out that Freddy Ray had a secretary, I made the appointment just before lunch so that he’d send you out. I was only supposed to kill him, not you.” He shook his head. “I really wish you hadn’t come back.”
“Yeah, so do I,” she muttered, folding her arms across her stomach. “So what happens now?”
He leaned a hip against the kitchen island, studying her. God, he wanted to strip that J.C. Penney office gear off her and burn it. She needs to be in something sexy, like stockings and a garter belt. Even better, stockings and a garter belt and tied to his bed where he could fuck her into oblivion and listen to her scream his name as she came. “Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?” he said softly. “How much do you think your life’s worth?”
Her little chin lifted, a kitten facing down a black bear in her territory. “I’ve got a little over five grand in the bank. We can go right now and take it out.”
He wanted to laugh, but he knew she wouldn’t take it well. “I don’t get out of bed for five grand. Besides, I don’t want your money.”
That made her blink, lips parting just a little. Two spots of pink bloomed on her cheekbones, spreading into a dusky flush. “Dammit. I—what do you want?”
“I think you know.” He closed the distance between them, stalking her until she bumped back against the wall. She was so petite next to him, a creamy café au lait handful. “I saw the way you were looking at me in the waiting room.”
Her throat worked as she stared up at him, pupils blown wide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes, savoring the softness of her skin. “You wanted to climb me like a tree, baby girl. Which is fine by me.” He leaned closer until his lips brushed her ear. “Because I want to take off your clothes, lay you out on your bed, and fuck you until all the neighbors know my name.”
Chapter Two
Ria couldn’t believe how hard her pussy clenched at the hitman’s words. A trickle of wetness began its slow trek into her panties, dampening them and reminding her how long it had been since she’d had sex. At least three years, and that had only been a weekend fling with some cute Anglo guy down on South Padre Island.
But this big cabrón was making her wet just by talking. He loomed over her, daring her to try something. She knew he didn’t need a gun with her. All he had to do was put one meaty hand around her throat and squeeze until she went still. The biggest, baddest ride in town.
But he didn’t want to kill her, at least not yet. He intended to fuck her first. And as insane as her brain thought that was, her pussy was totally on board. “I, I don’t—”
“Yes, you do,” he purred, moving even closer until her breasts were touching his chest. His groin brushed her stomach and she could feel something hard and long pressing against her. A hysterical thought drifted across her mind: is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
“See, I know women like you, cher,” he continued, his southern drawl more pronounced now. “You think what you want is a nice guy, someone who’ll fuck you with the lights off and kiss your ass and buy you a castle because that’ll make you feel safe. But you don’t want that, not really.”
She dredged up enough saliva to form words. “You think you know me?”
“Yeah.” His irises expanded, pushing the blue back to a thin ring around a pool of black. “Safe is boring, baby girl. You’ll be safe when you’re dead. You need to live a little while you still can, and a nice guy can’t help you with that. But I can.”
Dios mio. Her nipples ached from the contact against his chest and her panties were drenched, she was so turned on. But she shook her head. “I don’t want you.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He shocked her by dropping to his knees, wedging them between her feet and forcing her legs to stay open. Even kneeling, his head was level with her stomach, and he nuzzled her there. “Or they would be if they were dry. Lord, cher, I can smell you right through this skirt, you’re so wet.”
She sucked in a breath as his hands slid up the outside of her legs, pushing her skirt up. Any moment he was going to see the liquid stain of what he did to her. “Don’t, please,” she pleaded, trying to push his hands away.
His fingers were warm and firm on her skin as they reached the elastic of her panties and slid under it. “Hands against the wall, baby girl. I’m gonna bury my tongue in that sweet pussy of yours, whether you like it or not.” He chuckled. “Although I think you’re gonna like it.”
She hissed at the sudden pressure across her hip as he tore her under
wear off. He let the shreds drop to the floor and finished pushing up her skirt, taking in her trimmed mound. “Nice. I appreciate a little hair down there. Makes me feel like I’m loving a woman, not a doll.” He ran his lips over her curls, taking in a deep breath. “Oh, yeah. Hot and tangy, just the way I like it.”
She squeaked when he shoved one thigh over his thick shoulder, opening her even more. He blew a breath across her exposed pussy lips, already wet from her arousal, then ran the flat of his tongue up them, finishing off with a flicking lick over her clit. More flames flashed up through her lower belly and she moaned, letting her head thump back against the wall.
He was too big, she couldn’t stop him. It wasn’t wrong to give in, to let herself enjoy this. All she could do was stand there and let him worship her pussy with his lips and tongue. And Dios, he ate her like he was a starving man and she was a feast, sucking and nibbling her inner lips before sealing his mouth over her clit and lashing it with his tongue. The sensation was too good, too strong, and she shoved a fist against her mouth to muffle a cry.
He backed off a bit, lapping her wet flesh softly before sliding a thick finger inside her. This time her fist didn’t stop the cry, and she wailed softly as he massaged her inner pussy walls. His tongue returned to her clit, fluttering slowly over it.
Then he touched something inside her that sent bright streaks across her vision. She swallowed a scream, her free hand searching for something and landing on his hair. Some last shred of sanity told her not to pull. Instead she ran her fingers through the straight, thick strands, stroking him and using him to ground herself at the same time.
A soft purr that made her thighs tremble indicated his approval, and the finger inside her began to rub gentle circles on that amazing spot. His tongue picked up speed on her clit, sending bursts of impossible pleasure skittering across her nerve endings. She was trapped between his tongue and his finger, unable to escape either one and forced to enjoy the exquisite torture he was inflicting on her.