by Sam Crescent
He slid in a second finger, stretching her wider and setting off yet another flare of sensual fire. She was going to come so hard, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing but ride it out—
She screamed as her orgasm tore through her like a hurricane, ripping her out of mundane life and thrusting her bodily into heaven. Her muscles clamped down hard on his fingers, craving that thick pressure inside her. In response he sucked her entire clit into his mouth, rubbing the flat front of his teeth across the bundle of nerves. She wailed again, knees buckling, and he shoved his shoulders between her thighs, holding her against the wall with his own body as he continued to lick and suck.
She was seconds from begging him to stop when he pulled away, breathing hard and grinning up at her. “Sweet as a peach. I could eat you all day and twice on Sundays, baby girl.”
His words sent shivery aftershocks rolling through her. He felt them and guided her down the wall until she was straddling his knees, arranging her limp arms around his shoulders and guiding her head to rest in the crook of his neck. This was totally insane. She’d just had the best orgasm of her life riding the mouth of a man who had killed her boss not an hour ago.
“I don’t believe you just did that,” she panted.
His soft laugh was warm on her ear. “Told you I could be persuasive. And if you think that was good, cher, imagine what else I could do for you.”
He pressed her hips closer, making her ride the ridge in his pants. She imagined it thick and red, ribboned with veins and a drop of salty pre-cum sitting like a pearl in the tiny eye. “Feel that?” he murmured, his voice dropping into a sexy growl that made her still-quivering pussy clench. “It’s all for you. I’m gonna take you to bed and make you come at least two more times, and that is a guarantee.”
She groaned as his bulge rubbed across her clit. “You make me come two more times like that, you won’t have to shoot me. I’ll die from pure pleasure.”
He leaned back to look at her. The coldness from the office was gone, replaced by a hot little glint of desire. “That sounds like a challenge to me, baby girl. And I do love a challenge.”
He lifted her, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he got to his feet, hands cupping her ass securely. “Where’s your bedroom?”
Oh, what the hell. There are worse ways to die. She nodded at the door on the angled wall. “Through there.”
****
The bedroom was as small and neat as the rest of the place, Colton noted, with a Mission-style queen bed in light pine, matching nightstands and a chest of drawers. Ria had hung a Chinese parasol on the wall over the bed, but the rest of the walls were blank. The only other decoration was a framed picture, a family shot from the look of it, on the nightstand.
The blandness of her apartment said a lot about his hot little secretary. It wasn’t a home so much as it was a temporary resting place, somewhere she could leave at a moment’s notice and not look back. He tried to puzzle it out as he put her down next to the bed, but her tits slid along his chest and abs, distracting him. Screw it. I’ve got better things to think about right now.
Once he was sure she could stand under her own steam, he got to work on unbuttoning her blouse. Under it was more tan skin and a lacy white bra that molded two ripe mounds, her nipples stiff little points pushing through the delicate fabric. Tossing the blouse to the floor, he traced the soft skin along the upper edges of the cups, enjoying the way it made her shiver.
Pretty as it was, that scrap of fabric had to come off. He unhooked the clasp in back and pulled the bra free, his mouth watering at the sight of her teardrop breasts with their dark areolae and pebbled nipples. He couldn’t resist bending down and taking one into his mouth, sliding an arm around her lower back to hold her in place while he licked the firm nub.
A soft spill of Spanish danced through the air, close enough to Acadian French that he could get the gist of it. She didn’t want him to stop. That was just fine with him. He switched his attention to the other nipple, his finger coming up and tracing circles around the abandoned one. Shifting his weight, he urged her back onto the mattress, joining her and kissing a wandering spiral path over both breasts. Her skin was warm velvet against his lips, and she smelled so good he seriously wondered if he was going to come in his pants before he got a chance to get inside her.
He leaned up for a moment, taking her in. Her face was flushed and damp, and her eyes had that glossy haze of need that he loved to see on a woman. Her lips were slightly parted, full and ripe. It reminded him he hadn’t properly kissed her yet, apart from that little lip lock in the office, and wasn’t that a damn shame?
He braced a hand on either side of her shoulders and bent down to claim her mouth. Christ, her lips were so soft, and they opened like she belonged to him. Her tongue rose to meet his, teasing him and pulling him in further.
He fumbled at the waistband of her skirt, finally finding the little zipper that held it closed. Pulling it down, he slid his hand inside the waistband and ran it across the soft skin of her stomach. His fingers could just touch the crisp curls on her mound. He toyed with them, working his middle finger down until he could tap the very top of her slit.
She broke the kiss with a gasp. “Do that again.”
He did, adding a double tap this time. She made a happy little noise, arching her back and pressing her hips into his touch. “Oh, yeah. I like that, papi.”
“Good.” But he definitely needed more room to maneuver. He pulled his hand out, tugging at her rucked skirt. “Take this off, baby girl.”
Obediently she wiggled out of it, sprawling naked across her bedspread. He gazed at her in admiration, drinking in her beauty. “Letting a woman like you wear clothes is a downright sin. You’re meant to be as bare as Eve, and just as beautiful.”
“Thank you. I think.” She poked at him with a toe. “So why are you still dressed?”
She had a point. Kicking off his shoes, he skinned out of his shirt and tie, then paused with a hand on his belt buckle. “Hold on.”
He slid the gun out from its holster, considering the room. Leaving it on the bedside table where she could reach it was asking for trouble, but putting it on the dresser was farther than he liked. He compromised by pushing down his pants and briefs in one tangled bundle, leaving them on the floor and placing the gun on top. His newly released cock bobbed and he swore he heard the damn thing sigh in relief.
Ria’s eyes widened as she took in his pride and joy. “Mierda. What are you, part bull?”
“Bullheaded, according to my momma.” He wrapped a hand around his cock, squeezing firmly. The veins stood out even more and the head swelled, looking like a dark red mushroom over the thick shaft. “Told you I’m gonna make you come at least two more times. And this is gonna help me do just that.”
She squirmed on the soft bedspread, staring at him as she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together. “I don’t know. That thing’s a monster.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. Remember, I had my tongue in your pussy. I know you can take it.” He slipped a hand between her thighs, urging them wider and paddling his fingers in the sticky wetness coating her outer pussy lips. She was tight, yeah, but she wasn’t a virgin. As long as he went slow and let her get used to him, it would be all right.
He rolled between her legs, letting his cock rest in her warm cleft as he push-dragged it across her clit. Her eyes closed in pleasure and he was tempted to do the same, but it was too sweet watching her react to him. She coated him in her wetness, and he was about to slide back and start easing his way in when her eyes flew open. “Wait. Condom.”
“Damn. Hold on.” Rolling to the edge of the bed, he fumbled for his wallet and the three-pack he always kept there. Pulling one of the squares free, he opened it and fished out the XL condom, rolling it down over his aching shaft.
Getting back into position, he reached down and guided the tip of his latex-covered cock between her pussy lips into the tightest, most luscious
squeeze he’d felt in a while.
She sucked in a breath, wincing at the stretch. Fighting his eagerness, he slowed down, letting her get used to his girth. Inch by inch, he buried himself inside her until he was balls deep. Fuck, she was all things a woman was supposed to be—hot, tight, and perfect. “Good?”
Her hips rolled experimentally, and she gave him a slow, sweet smile. “Uh-huh.”
“Thank Christ, because my damn head’s about to explode.” He pulled out, relishing the cling of her muscles around his cock before thrusting back in. Her wetness added a nice touch of lube inside the condom and soon he was pumping in a slow, regular stroke, experimenting with angles and seeing what worked the best.
Her head suddenly jerked back and she gasped happily. God bless the G spot. He made note of the angle and spread his thighs for leverage, flexing his ass muscles and making sure the head of his cock rubbed over that magic patch inside her. She crooned as she wrapped her legs around his thighs, digging her heels into the backs of his knees and holding on while giving him enough room to thrust. He kissed her again, long and lingering this time. She tasted as delicious as she smelled, warm and sweet like peaches with a hint of cinnamon.
The truth smacked into him, impossible to ignore. He couldn’t kill her, not without putting a stake through what was left of his own heart. Ria Guzman was made for him, dammit. And he was going to keep her, no matter what.
“Yeah, papi, just like that,” she muttered, slipping back into passionate Spanish that he thought could be translated as Fuck me hard and don’t stop until I say so.
Colton grinned, happy now that the decision was final. He picked up the pace, rocking deeper into her and letting that electric tingle build. They were both sweating now, even with the A/C blowing over their bodies, and he could hear the slapping of his balls as they bounced against her ass.
Even with the condom the sensation of being buried inside her was almost too good, bringing him to the verge of coming faster than he liked. He tried thinking about the Saints’ latest game, something that usually pissed him off enough to keep him from blowing early. Fuck if I’m gonna come before she does. He had a promise to keep.
Shifting until the bulk of his weight was on his left forearm, he reached down between their flexing bodies and found her clit, strumming it lightly with his finger. Her neck arched, and seconds later he felt her inner muscles flutter and clench around his cock as she came. He kept stroking her as the buzz at the base of his spine turned into a molten flame, shooting through his cock and out into the latex sheath. He bellowed happily, thrusting deep until his balls felt like they were going to turn inside out.
Breathing heavily, he leaned down and kissed her again. “Hellfire, baby girl. You’re perfect.”
She blinked at him, dazed and grinning. “You’re not bad yourself, papi.”
Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t stay inside her. Sliding out, he peeled off the condom, knotting it and tossing it onto the nightstand. With that done, he turned them until they were lying lengthwise on the bed, his head on her pillow and her head on his chest, arm splayed across his stomach. She fit in his arms like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
He grinned at the ceiling. I am well and truly screwed. And I’m loving every minute of it.
She nestled in closer, playing with his chest hair. “So, that’s two orgasms,” she murmured. “You make me come again and I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow.”
“That’s fine with me. We’ll stay in bed.” His lazy glance fell on the framed picture next to her bed. It had been taken a while ago, judging by Ria’s shorter hair and the University of Texas t-shirt she wore. Her arm was around a handsome Hispanic man with a lean build and dark eyes that didn’t match the smile on his face.
Colton blinked. He knew that face. “Cher, who’s that man in the picture?”
She leaned over him, peering at it. “That’s my brother Carlos. It was taken at Six Flags when I was still in college.”
His post-sex high blew apart. “Your brother is Carlos Salazar?”
Ria twisted so that her chin rested on his chest. “You know him?”
“I know of him.” Everyone in his line of work knew about Carlos Salazar. His sweet little baby girl was sister to one of the most powerful gang leaders in the US. If he’d known that, he never would’ve touched her. Shit, he wouldn’t have gone near the damn office unless he was sure she’d taken the day off. Fuck me running and catch me with a chain saw. “I thought your last name was Guzman.”
She shook her head, pivoting her chin on his chest. “It’s my mom’s maiden name. I took it when I started working for Freddy Ray. He said it was a good way to keep the cops from sniffing around.”
Colton wanted to groan. So Freddy Ray knew who she really was, which meant his client had to know as well. Did that asshole set me up? If he had offed Carlos Salazar’s sister, even accidentally, he would have had every member of Muerte De Oro gunning for his ass until one of them managed to put him six feet under.
A cold determination settled in Colton’s gut. He didn’t appreciate clients trying to fuck him over, and he really didn’t like the thought of Ria getting involved in it. Whether she liked it or not, he was getting her the hell out of Dallas before she wound up in real trouble.
Or worse, dead.
Chapter Three
Ria watched Jackson’s face as it settled back into that distant expression from the waiting room. It had been a gamble, hoping that her sexy hitman would recognize her brother from the picture and get the message. She had a couple of other ways she could have told him about Carlos, but this one worked out nicely. And this way I got the fuck of my life out of the deal as well.
But now he seemed—not worried, exactly. More like he’d just made a decision. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Look, Carlos won’t do anything to you, I swear.”
Jackson shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m just thinking.”
She was about to ask him about what, exactly, when her stomach rumbled. “We missed lunch. I got the makings for chicken Caesar wraps if you want something.”
A trace of warmth came back into his eyes. “I could eat.”
“Okay, then.” She rolled out of bed, deliberately avoiding the pile of clothing with his gun. She could feel his considering gaze like a weight on her skin as she headed to the bathroom for a quick pee and clean up. He may not be worried about Carlos, but something’s definitely bugging him. Grabbing her robe off the back of the bathroom door, she slipped it on and headed into the kitchen to raid the fridge.
She was in the middle of slicing cooked chicken breasts when he came into the kitchen in his pants and nothing else, scratching his chest with one huge hand. He planted himself on one of the stools at the kitchen island, watching as she layered chicken and romaine lettuce on large tortillas. A dollop of sauce and a sprinkle of shredded Parmesan finished each wrap, and she added a handful of sweet potato chips on the side. “Here you go. I’ve got water and sweet tea to drink.”
“Sweet tea, please.”
She poured two tall glasses of tea, sliding one over to him. “You know, I never asked. What’s your first name?”
He paused in mid-bite, chewing thoroughly and taking a sip of his tea before answering. “Colton.”
Colton. It suited him. “Nice to meet you, Colton. How long have you been a hitman?”
He gave her a dry look. “I prefer the term independent contractor.”
“I prefer the term hitman. It’s catchier.” She sipped her own tea. “Fine. How did you get into independent contracting?”
He toyed with a golden-red chip. “I joined the Marines after high school. Did two tours in Iraq as a sniper. I was good at it, too, earned medals and everything. But I got tired of the heat and the shitty food, so after my last tour was up I came back. Only problem with that was, nobody wanted to hire a guy with a high school diploma who was good at killing folks. So one of my buddies put me in touch with a private militar
y outfit, and I went to work for them. Even went back to the Middle East for a couple of months. Made a nest egg, got out, and set up stateside as an independent contractor.” He shrugged. “So what’s the sister of Carlos Salazar doing working for a shady lawyer in Dallas? Shouldn’t you be living in a secure compound somewhere?”
Why did everyone who found out about Carlos think that? “Number one, Freddy Ray wasn’t a shady lawyer,” she said, annoyed. “I mean, yeah, sometimes he plays—played—a little fast and loose, legally. But so do all the other high-powered lawyers in town. And two, I was working for him because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life in an armed compound waiting for the DEA or the Mexican federales to come screaming over the wall. Freddy Ray arranged for my new identity. When I found out he needed a new secretary, I offered to work for him.”
Colton nodded. “Okay, I can see that. So you like being a secretary?”
She shrugged. “It was okay. The pay was decent and I didn’t mind the work. Plus I learned how to make Microsoft Word jump through hoops.”
“Huh. I can barely get it to print.” He peered over his shoulder at her dining and living room. “It just doesn’t seem like much of a life, if you don’t mind me saying so. I mean, this place looks more like a hotel room than a home.”
She tamped down her irritation. The few people she’d allowed inside her place had said similar things, which was why she’d stopped letting people in. “I like things simple, okay? And I don’t want to waste money on decor.” And if she did have to run for any reason, she didn’t want to leave something she loved behind. The things that were important to her could fit in one bag. Everything else was replaceable.
Those narrow blue eyes flickered once and she got the feeling he understood. Well, considering what he does for a living, he probably does. “Okay. It just seems sort of joyless, that’s all.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, really? And what the hell does a hitman—sorry, an independent contractor—know about joy?”
“I know that life is short, and you never know when it’s going to end. It’s why you need to grab it by the balls and wring every drop of happiness and pleasure you can from it.” He picked up his tea, considering her over the rim of his glass. “You need more joy in your life, baby girl. You bloom when you’re happy.”