Burning Kiss

by Angela Addams

  I tapped my lips, thinking. A gun was powerful. The best weapon. But it wasn’t the only weapon I had. I went back to my closet, the other side this time, and stuck my hand along the side, pressing my thumb to the biometric scanner on my gun safe. It hissed open and I pulled out my small dagger.

  I’d bought it a few years back at an army surplus store. It was about five inches long with a sturdy steel handle wrapped in leather and it was sheathed in a nylon mesh holster. The guy at the store had told me that it was a boot knife. Flat so that it could easily be carried on the inside of a boot. There was even a harness to secure it around the calf. I had a sexy pair of kneehighs that would work perfectly.

  I didn’t have any experience with knives. I’d done minimal training. Like severely minimal. One part of a self-defence course. No practical experience. And yet, the idea of going out with just a knife was intriguing. Dangerous, yes, but I was up for the challenge. I was not being reckless. Not completely reckless anyway. And like Steve said, it was time I gave purpose to my hunts.

  I dropped the knife on my dress then headed into the bathroom for a shower, excitement pumping through my veins.

  Downtown was as alive as I’d expected it to be. Not overcrowded like on the weekend, but, given that it was close to the end of the week, things were relatively busy. I stood on the corner looking at my target. The music from the club was thumping, lights flashing, calling people to it. I reached up and adjusted my wig. I’d opted for the chin-length black one this time. It was cut so that the sides angled in toward my cheeks. I liked that the look made me feel exotic. And it also exposed the line of my neck, and with my dress, that meant an unobscured view all the way down my spine, almost to my ass.

  I got a whistle and a catcall, which made me smile. Perfect.

  I bypassed the line of waiting club-wannabes, waved in by the security guard who had a wicked smirk. I smiled back, dabbing my top lip with my tongue. I had a feeling tonight was going to be very successful

  There were no metal detectors or anything but Mr. Big and Burly was checking patrons. My purse was discounted as non-consequential. Too small to warrant anything but a glance. Which was good because underneath the rolled up pair of leggings I was carrying my .38. After a few second thoughts, I’d decided I couldn’t leave home without it. Too risky.

  As I moved inside, a wave of air hit me from above. Huge fans rotated, diluting the heat and smell of sweaty bodies. The music made my body thump, vibrating through me as I moved toward the bar. There were hundreds of people inside, lots of potential targets. Lots of competition as well. Perhaps more men than woman though, which worked in my favour. The DJ was up above, a balcony overhang that looked out on the dance floor. He was bopping his head to the music, feeling the vibe just as surely as I was. The dance floor was crowded already.

  I bypassed my usual bourbon and went for a cooler instead. That sweet smell on my breath would add to the effect when I needed it. I downed it quickly and then ordered another.

  I knew there were eyes on me. I could practically feel them like hot little pokers on my skin. With my second drink in hand, I moved out to the dance floor and started to sway to the rhythm. I’d always loved to dance. As a student, there hadn’t been very many weekends where I wouldn’t be found at the campus clubs working up a sweat on the dance floor. I’d forgotten how much I missed it. Out there, moving to the beat, feeling the sounds roll over my body, the proximity of other dancers made my nerves snap with excitement.

  It didn’t take long for a guy to move in. He was tall, blond, chiselled face, a brush of stubble, dark eyes and a smile to die for. He moved with me, matching my rhythm, a hand bushing the small of my back when I turned, urging me closer to him.

  He wasn’t pushy enough and his eyes said nice guy. He didn’t have that glint. He didn’t smell of ego. It was disappointing because in a different world, on a different night, I might have taken him for a ride. Instead, I slipped away with the excuse of bathroom and then hightailed it up the stairs to the next floor.

  On this floor, the music wasn’t quite as loud and the atmosphere was more subdued. It was dark and the music was full of bass. Along the back and side walls were little curved cubby seats, big enough to seat six or so with tables centred inside. The dance floor wasn’t packed but there were a fair number of people on it swaying to the beats, more of the patrons were sitting or standing around.

  I moved to the bar and ordered a martini, the ambience of the room making perfect for my needs. Classy. Laid back. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d find what I was looking for on this floor but I wasn’t quite ready to leave either. I took my drink and headed along the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples, the lone dancers, all moving. Wafts of body smells, of perfume, cologne tickled my nose, offering a different kind of intoxication. The smell of sex, heat, arousal. It made me wet.

  I sipped my martini. It was pretty dry, and went down hard. Two drinks in and I was feeling the effects already. If I didn’t watch myself I’d be actually passing out rather than acting at it. I began to walk again, and swayed a little with the dizzy whirl of the bodies around me. A firm hand on my lower back steadied me.

  “You should come and sit down with me, sweetheart.” His voice was thickly accented. European, perhaps. Almost hard to understand.

  He didn’t give me a chance to agree. His hand slipped down almost to the curve of my ass as he propelled me toward a booth where two other men sat. I did a quick assessment. All three were dark haired, dark featured, thick eyebrows, tanned skin, black eyes. Menacing in a way. They wore business suits with no ties. Each had several beer bottles in front of them, both empty and full.

  The one who was ushering me was on the short side, coming to my shoulder, if that. His hair was brushed to the side, dark stubble painting this jaw. There was a tuft of hair poking out of his collar. Hairy beast. He, very helpfully, guided me into the bench, making sure I moved to the back where I was pinioned by his two friends.

  “Hi there.” I giggled, holding out my hand to shake. Neither bothered to take me up on the offer. Instead they gave me a once over and then both slid from the booth. I was confused at first until I realized that they were standing at the end of the table, effectively blocking any peering eyes from seeing me or my new consort. Unlike the man who’d taken an interest in me, these two were monstrously large. If I’d had to guess, I’d say bodyguards of some sort.

  That made it all the more intriguing. Rich boys were used to getting their way.

  “They aren’t very friendly,” I said as I turned toward my companion.

  “I don’t pay them to be friendly, sweetie,” he said with a sickening smile, his eyes roving from my face to my body, lingering on my chest. “That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing.” He licked his lips.

  “Thank you.”

  “I bet it’s easy to get out of.” He winked in a slimeball kinda way.

  “Yep, just a slip here and there.” I smiled when he snapped his gaze to mine, assessing my words. I leaned forward so that his hand brushed my tit. “It’s almost like I’m not wearing anything at all.”

  He turned his palm up so that my breast rested there. “Very fine dress indeed.”

  The glint was there. He was an opportunist for sure. No need to delay the inevitable. I glanced at the bodyguards. They would be a problem if I left the place with the guy.

  I sat back, making it seem like I was uncomfortable with them being there. He waved his hand in their direction. “Don’t mind those two, sweetie. They wouldn’t even turn around if they heard screaming.” He winked again.

  I smiled awkwardly. Okay, that was creepy.

  He nudged my drink toward me and I picked it up before drinking the rest down in a few gulps.

  “Another?”

  I shook my head, frowning a little as I did. “I’m feeling a little dizzy actually.” I brushed my hand over my hair, sweeping some strands to the side before accidentally nudging the strap of my dress so that it moved a bit, sl
iding over my shoulder. We both looked down at the same time.

  “Oops!” I giggled as I caught the fabric, keeping it from exposing my breast.

  His eyes widened and he grinned at me. In a flash, his fingers were over mine, halting my movement so he could rub his thumb over my nipple through my dress. “You’re a wicked one, aren’t you?” He moved closer to me, his other hand on my thigh. “I can tell that you’re going to be a lot of fun.”

  I put my hand on his, making the attempt to push his hand from my leg, feigning weakness. “Ohhh, I don’t feel so great. I’m so dizzy all of a sudden.”

  I slumped a little, sliding back against the cushion, hands braced on the seat, chest out a bit, my head lolling.

  “Some guy bought me a drink downstairs. I think he might have put something in it.”

  His eyes flashed again, calculating. “Oh really?” His hand slipped higher up my leg, well past the boundary of my hem.

  I swatted at him. “I don’t feel good. Please don’t do that.”

  He moved even closer, his hand on my breast slipping under the fabric, rubbing my nipple roughly. He nuzzled my neck, biting a little. Not stopping.

  “You’re feeling dizzy?” he murmured against my ear. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby.” He ran his fingers over my crotch, slipping past my panties to swipe my pussy lips. Fuck, this guy didn’t waste time. “You’re wet, sweetie.”

  “Please, I don’t want—”

  He kissed me, a harsh, pounding kiss with his hand squeezing my tit hard. When he pulled away, my lips actually hurt.

  I pretend to fight him off, swatting at him pathetically. He laughed, pushed the table out a bit and then in a move I couldn’t have expected, had me on my back and splayed, dress at my hips with him between them.

  If I was really drugged, I’d be totally fucked right now.

  “Please, don’t…” I let my head fall to the side, eyed that the guards were indeed ignoring us. Bulldogs standing sentry, presumably very used to the boss’s activities. I bet if I let it play out to their boss’s satisfaction, I’d get an escort to a cab by one of those two with a hundred slipped into my hand.

  “I can’t resist, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll put a condom on.” He unbuckled his pants, pulled his hairy little dick out and nudged my pussy. “Or maybe I won’t.” He winked again, a smarmy smile on his face.

  I turned my head so I couldn’t see his sickening smirk. I wouldn’t be able to hide my disdain. He leaned down, fingers parting my dress to expose my breasts, which he then laved and sucked ravenously.

  I used his distraction to slip my hand into my boot and pulled my knife. With another glance at the guards and their backs, I made my move.

  He froze when I slid my knife against his jugular.

  “Get your filthy mouth off of my tits.”

  He glanced up at me, eyes wide with shock, terror, who knew for sure? The guy reeked of arrogance. He removed his lips from my skin and started to rise slowly, his eyes darting to the backs of his guards.

  “Uh huh, baby. You scream and I’ll slice.” I pressed the knife deeper. “Fix my dress.”

  He was assessing again, calculating what I could do and what I would do. I slid the knife a fraction of an inch, deep enough that I cut skin. He winced.

  “I said, fix my dress.”

  He did has he was told, adjusting my top and then smoothing down my bottom. We moved together back to sitting, my knife pressed firmly, a little drip of blood sliding down his neck.

  “You don’t look like the type to cut a man.” He tried his charming smile even though I could see the fear riding under the surface. I slipped my hand into my purse and pulled out my gun.

  “Do I look like the type to shoot one?” I smiled as I levelled it at his dick.

  He raised his hands. “Whoa there! No cause for that! No one needs to get hurt.”

  I could smell his fear. It spiked from him like a nauseating rot. I pulled my knife away, slipped it back into my boot, keeping my gun on him but below the line of the table.

  “I’ve got money,” he blurted. “That’s what you want, right?”

  I shook my head. “Nah, I wanted to see your pathetic little dick go flaccid, tough guy.” I winked as I nudged his cock with my gun.

  He yelped. I tensed a bit, waiting for the shout from his guards. But true enough, his security didn’t even flinch.

  “I bet I’ve got some of your nasty semen on my panties.” I moved closer to him. “I could have you charged with attempted rape.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You were going to. You were going to fuck me right here against my will.”

  “No, I—”

  “Shut the fuck up, asshole.” I pushed the gun against his flesh. “I should shoot your dick off.”

  “You’ll never get away with it!” His eyes were nearly bugging out of his face.

  “What makes you think I haven’t already?” I chuckled.

  “You’ll be arrested. Go to jail.”

  “In this country?” I shrugged. “I bet I only get a couple of years in jail, if that. You? You’ll be stuck with no cock for the rest of your life.”

  He was trembling now. He tried to move away but I shook my head and followed him. Moving so that I straddled his lap, tempting his pathetic little dick with the warmth of my pussy. Despite his fear, and quite a surprise to me, it jolted alive once again. Not hard like he had been, but not exactly flaccid either. The damn thing was pushing against my gun.

  “What do you want?” His voice was nasally, kinda sounding like he was going to cry.

  I leaned in close, lips against his ear, breasts pressed to his chest. If his guards looked now they’d think we were fucking for sure. “I want you to remember me, asshole. And any time you get the urge to rape a woman, I want you to picture my gun pressed against your cock and remember that when she says no, that’s what she means.” I pulled back. Smiled. “Understand?”

  He didn’t move at first, sweat starting to bead at his temples. He licked his lips.

  “Speak!”

  He nodded. “Yes, yes, I understand!”

  “If you or your goons follow me, I’ll shoot your dick off. Trust me, I’m that good. Sharp shooter.” I pressed my gun harder against his flesh. “And then you’ll be dickless.”

  I nailed him with a glare and then slid off of his lap to stand. “Remember.” I mouthed at him as I waggled my gun before sliding it into my purse.

  I adjusted my dress and then winked before ducking around the guards and into the crowd.

  I headed straight for the dense part of the mingling bodies, dipping low so that I could pull my wig off without being seen.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Sure enough, the little cocksucker was at his guards, hands waving frantically, pointing in my direction. Time to bolt.

  I ran the rest of the way, making it into the crowed hall and down a flight of stairs as I fanned my hair out, letting it cascade to brush my shoulders. My heart was bursting, adrenaline spiking.

  I ducked into the bathroom and slipped into a stall, my breathing so hard that I needed a few minutes to get control again. I tried to get my leggings out of my purse but my fingers were shaking so bad that I stopped and rested my head against the wall.

  That had been intense. Exhilarating. He’d fallen into my trap. My first test a success. Would a man take advantage of a woman in a crowded bar if given the opportunity? Yes.

  Steve had been right—having a research focus was way more rewarding. With a smile, I brushed my fingers through my hair, sucked in a long breath and let it out.

  I slipped my hand into my purse, nudging my gun aside to pull out my leggings then wedged my wig in their place. I wasn’t willing to lose another one or to wreck my dress but I’d learned my lesson with the prostitute incident. I kicked my boots off and slipped the leggings on. I dug into my purse again and found the two clips I’d put there. I pulled the sides of my dress together and attached the first clip, transforming it f
rom revealing to modest. Dressed all in black, I looked like an uber-goth or something. I did the same at the back. As I came out of the stall, I startled myself a bit. My pale skin all the more so with the dark clothes. I snatched a paper towel and wet it, removing my lipstick and wiping down my makeup somewhat. The women in the bathroom ignored me other than the occasional little bump as they squeezed in to wash their hands. It was suddenly crowded in there.

  With a final check, I exited and headed straight for the bottom floor and the way out.

  25

  I’d made it out of the club without incident even though I did see my attacker again as I passed through the main dance floor. He looked in deep conversation with his guards and was totally freaked out. Enraged as well. I almost wished I could continue my study and find him again, see if my threat was effective or not. The way the mind worked though, there was a very good possibility that I’d just laid the groundwork for some pretty serious PTSD. If he attempted to rape another woman, his mind might very well shut his dick down subconsciously. It was too bad I couldn’t monitor his future encounters.

  Either way, the night before had been about regaining some confidence. I’d been too long without a hunt and I’d needed a reminding that I was powerful. I was in control.

  I checked in on Kassey, knocking on her door then poking my head in. Her room was dark, and I couldn’t make out her shape on the bed at all. I slipped into her room, not wanting to scare her but also being paranoid as fuck that she wasn’t there. The floor creaked and I froze, sure that I heard the sheets rustling followed by the sound of her breathing steady and deep. I backtracked out of the room, not wanting to disturb her. She’d gone to bed complaining of a migraine before I’d geared up for my hunt and had been sleeping since. Or at least, I assumed she had since I’d been gone for hours while I was prowling for rapists. Either way, she was obviously out for the count and I wasn’t too worried. I knew enough about head injuries to understand that recovery took longer than other kinds of injuries and that sleep was paramount.