The Hitman Next Door: A Texas Bounty Novel

by Jackie Ashenden

  A moan escaped, she couldn’t stop it. He tasted…like coffee and hot chocolate, an intense caffeine hit with a sweet edge, and it was delicious.

  His grip on her chin remained firm while she felt his other hand tangle in her hair, pulling gently on it, tipping her head back even further. The kiss somehow deepened, his mouth open on hers, gentle and yet getting hotter, more demanding.

  Desire rose higher and she let it, and all at once it felt like she was drowning, as if all the need, all the years of want, were swamping her, choking her. It made her want to fight the sensation, because it was too much. It was too scary, made her feel too out of control.

  Vivi pushed hard against Rhys’s unyielding chest, jerking her mouth from his. “Stop,” she panted. “Please. Just…stop.”

  His mouth was inches from hers, his eyes glittering with a hunger so intense it nearly made her heart seize in her chest. “Why?” His voice was scraped and raw and hoarse.

  You did that to him. You did.

  Unexpected satisfaction twisted inside her. He was a man who never showed his emotions and she’d only learned to read them by watching the minute shifts in the muscles of his face, the changes in his voice, and the actions he took. But now the open desire in his expression was absolutely plain. And she was the one who’d put it there.

  The satisfaction deepened and it shocked her, because she hadn’t even realized she’d wanted to see something more than the carefully neutral face he showed to the world.

  But you do.

  She shoved the thought away, disturbed by it and the other thing that was tangling with the satisfaction, the ache that was growing between her thighs and the heat that was beginning to overwhelm her.

  “You want me,” Rhys went on in that same hoarse voice. “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Some part of her wanted to lie, to tell him that she didn’t, that whatever he’d seen, it wasn’t there. But she couldn’t seem to say the words.

  He’s not going to believe you anyway.

  He wouldn’t. Not given how she’d moaned, or how she was leaning into him right now, with her fingers curling as if she was holding onto him, pulling him close…

  His hand tightened in her hair and when she didn’t speak, he kissed her again, harder, hotter. Making all thoughts of stopping him vanish entirely from her head.

  She shuddered, the slow, erotic glide of his tongue making her fingers curl tighter into the cotton of his shirt, holding on for dear life as her knees weakened.

  Dear God. She was literally going weak at the knees. What the hell was he doing to her? Friends, nothing more. That’s what their relationship was all about and that’s where she’d always wanted to keep it.

  But his mouth… Oh, it was so hot and he seemed to know exactly how to use it, how to kiss her slowly, carefully and yet with such demand she couldn’t think why letting him continue was such a terrible idea.

  And all of a sudden it seemed the most logical thing in the world to ignore those other things, the shooting, the kidnapping, Rhys being completely different to who she thought he was. They were way too complicated, way too difficult to deal with. But this wasn’t. This was easy. It was a distraction and right now, a distraction was exactly what she needed.

  The thought flashed through her brain like a lightbulb switching on, and then Rhys shifted his hips, the firm ridge of his cock pressing between her thighs, nudging against her clit, sending a lightning strike of sensation arrowing through her.

  Oh. Hell. He was hard. The breath caught in her throat, another shudder of helpless reaction shaking her.

  “Keep still, Vivi,” he murmured against her mouth. “Keep very, very still.”

  And she found herself doing exactly that, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt so tight it was a wonder it didn’t tear, trying not to give in to the urge to simply melt into a puddle at his feet. The fact that she was obeying him without a protest should have been worrying, and definitely some part of her didn’t like it. But despite everything that had happened, this was still Rhys, her friend. And she trusted him.

  He let go her chin, his hand dropping to her shoulder, his thumb sliding under the narrow strap of her tank. The touch was so light, yet it felt like he’d run a flame over her bare skin. “Rhys,” she murmured desperately, shivering. “Rhys…I….”

  “Quiet.” His mouth brushed over hers. “It’s okay. Just keep still like I told you.”

  But she couldn’t, because he was drawing the strap of her tank over the curve of her shoulder and down her arm, further and further so that the fabric fell away from her, baring one breast.

  She stiffened at the feel of the air on her heated skin and over her excruciatingly sensitive nipple. Then his fingers were there, stroking down, following the curve of her bare breast to cup it gently in his palm.

  Vivi took a sharp breath, the sheer intensity of the sensation blanking her mind. And then, way before she’d had a chance to process that, he began to circle his thumb around her achingly hard nipple, so slowly, carefully.

  All her awareness zeroed in on the slow circling of his thumb, every nerve-ending blazing into life. She felt dizzy, like she was falling and there was nothing to stop her. She said his name again, a desperate sound, and his arm was around her waist, keeping her upright. His thumb stopped circling, only to brush lazily over her nipple, again and again, a back and forth movement that tore another helpless moan from her throat.

  It was too much. This whole damn thing was too much. If she didn’t stop him, if she didn’t stop herself, there was only one way this was going to end; with him inside her.

  A kiss was one thing, but Rhys touching her like a lover, making her feel things she’d never felt before in her entire life, was quite another and she didn’t think she could handle that. Not at all.

  “No,” she gasped. “Rhys, it’s too much. It’s too fast.”

  His teasing, circling thumb stopped, his hand falling away, but his arm remained locked around her, a steel bar holding her close.

  She couldn’t look at him. The top couple of buttons of his shirt were undone so she stared at his throat instead, at the pulse beating strongly beneath his tanned skin. He was so hot and hard, and she was desperate for some distance. Yet if he let her go now, she knew she’d go down in a heap at his feet, so she let herself rest against him, trying to get her raging heartbeat under control again.

  Until a finger caught her beneath the chin, tipping her head back to meet his gaze.

  That unfamiliar hunger glittered in his eyes, sending a shiver of pleasure through her, and he didn’t say anything, merely giving her a long, unreadable look. Then he glanced away, down to the strap of her tank, and hooked a finger under it, easing it back and over her shoulder, covering her up. The arm around her fell away as he released her, stepping back.

  She wobbled at the loss of support, having to put the heels of her hands on the counter behind her to steady herself. After all that intense heat, she felt cold. Almost as if she wanted to close the gap between them and press herself against him…

  Rhys remained quiet, the look on his face impenetrable.

  Then, abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked to the front door, throwing it open and going out. The door banged shut, leaving her alone with her racing heartbeat and the sense that she’d done something pretty damn stupid.

  Vivi sagged back against the counter, running a shaking hand through her hair. Her skin felt tight, her nipples way too sensitive against the fabric of her tank, and the nagging pressure between her thighs wouldn’t let up. She could still feel his fingers, stroking and teasing, sending little shivers through her.

  It was like she’d never been touched before. Which was crazy. She’d been with men, she wasn’t some silly, wide-eyed virgin. She knew about sex and she was fine with it. She certainly didn’t have any hang-ups about it. So there shouldn’t have been any reason why Rhys touching her should be any different. Yet it was. Completely and utterly different.r />
  Her hand dropped from her hair, lowering to rest at the base of her throat where her necklace was. Maybe it was the friend factor. The whole ‘forbidden’ aspect, though she’d never been drawn to anything particularly forbidden before.

  Except, she had a feeling it wasn’t just that.

  Rhys was hot and she’d always known it. But there was a whole other aspect of him she’d never known about, a dangerous aspect. It was like finding out her house cat was actually a tiger.

  You really like that.

  Once again that memory replayed itself in her head, of the fury on his face as that bullet had gone past her, of how he’d reached for her to protect her with his body. How he’d reached for his gun in the same movement, snapping around and firing at his target without hesitation. All to keep her safe.

  There was no need for to her to look deeper than her initial shock. She knew already knew what was underneath it. He was dangerous, lethal, and she liked it. She really liked it.

  God help her. Rhys wasn’t the only one who was insane.

  Vivi glanced toward the front door, her thoughts racing, fingertips brushing over her necklace.

  “Those are real diamonds…”

  She blinked, diverted for a moment. Hell, he’d spent a lot of money on that birthday present for her. Too much money. Why? Sure, she was his friend, but real diamonds?

  You’ve just had your best friend kissing the hell out of you and all you can think about is why he spent so much money on your necklace?

  Well, okay then. He’d told her he’d wanted her for years, yet only now was he making a move. Why? What had changed? Actually, it wasn’t too difficult to work out what had changed.

  A bullet. A gun. And one dead guy falling out a window.

  Vivi put her hands over her face and let out a groan.

  She knew needed to ask him about that, get some explanations. Except explanations were very last thing in the world she felt like hearing. Because without a doubt as soon as he told her what was going on, everything would change yet again.

  And she wasn’t quite ready for that. Not yet.

  So what are you going to do now?

  Good question. She turned around, taking a couple of slow deep breaths to get her heart rate down and the ache of unfulfilled desire under control once more, then she gave the room another scan.

  She couldn’t leave, which meant she was trapped here. With him.

  A shiver of excitement chased down her spine.

  There’s a couple of things you could do.

  Vivi very firmly ignored that thought. Coffee, that’s what she needed. Then something to eat, and then she’d decide just where the hell they went from here.

  7

  Rhys stalked out of the house and into the thick heat of the afternoon, heading across the dusty drive to the ex-stables where he’d parked the car. He could feel the dark hunger inside him reaching up to choke him, and he wanted to put a fist through the nearest wall. Either that or turn around, go straight back into the house, lift Vivi up onto the counter, rip away those tiny little pajama shorts and push his cock deep inside her.

  But he wasn’t that asshole Clayton, letting himself be ruled by every goddamn emotion, so he ignored the choking feeling like he ignored his dick pressing insistently against the fly of his jeans, stepping into the cool of the stables then popping the trunk of the car and reaching inside. He took out the two semis and a length of material, closing the trunk then laying the material across the top of it. Then he began the process of taking apart the weapons and cleaning each component thoroughly. He’d always been a firm believer in looking after his equipment and found the process calming.

  Except with his dick as hard as a rock and the taste of Vivi sitting in his mouth like the lingering flavor of some kind of delicious dessert, he didn’t feel particularly calm.

  Finally, after so many years, he’d kissed her and it had been… Well. It had surpassed all his wildest dreams. She’d been so sweet, so hot, tasting of the delicious, sugary vanilla cookies she smelled like. And the feel of her skin, unbelievably soft and smooth, and the gentle weight of her breast in his palm. Her hard little nipple beneath his thumb. The deep moan she’d let out…

  He caught his breath, having to stop what he was doing because his hands were shaking, but his mind keep right on going, thinking about that sound. Because really, that had been the sweetest moment of all, hearing that moan and knowing he’d drawn it from her.

  After all that time thinking she’d had no interest in him, to have her mouth open up under his, to have her clutch at his shirt like she was going to fall at his feet, to have her make that desperate little noise…

  Jesus Christ. The satisfaction, the sheer, savage thrill of it, had been like nothing else he’d ever experienced in his life.

  Now that he thought about it, perhaps it had been a good thing she’d told him to stop, because he’d been on the edge, he really had. Which was a scary place to be, especially with her.

  He was in control, he was always in control, and he had to stay in control, that’s all there was to it. Those emotions inside him, the overpowering need for her, had to be kept reined in, because they were nothing but destructive.

  He still remembered that first contract, where he’d ended up firing an entire magazine into the corpse, because he was so fucking angry. In that moment he hadn’t seen some stranger, all he’d seen was the man who’d murdered his little brother and that now he was grown, he had a chance for some payback. But afterward, when he’d stepped back, it had hit him that all those bullets had only been rage, not justice. And it was justice he was after, what he’d always been after.

  Clayton was doing time but Scotty was still dead, and if Rhys couldn’t get some kind of justice as a soldier, by fighting those who’d hurt innocent people, then he’d take it in other ways. Less than legal ways.

  But rage had no part of that. Rage made him exactly like Clayton and he’d never go down that path. Never.

  He was detached. He was cold. He was always in-fucking-control.

  Carefully, Rhys laid out the pieces of the first weapon then began stripping down the second, focusing on what he was doing and not on the driving need that was making concentration a next to impossible task.

  She’d tasted amazing and the soft warmth of her had felt like a homecoming. He’d wanted touch her, mark that clear perfect skin of hers, make her his…

  He cursed under his breath, lust tightening its grip around his throat.

  No, shit, he couldn’t unleash himself around her, do her rough and hard the way he liked. Mark her the way he wanted to. She meant too much to him and there was no way he was going to hurt her like that.

  A really good thing she stopped you then, huh?

  Yes, it was. A very good thing.

  Not that he should be thinking about sex anyway when he had far more important things on his plate. Such as figuring out how to stop his ex-colleague from either using Vivi or killing him, because until he did, neither he nor Vivi could go home.

  She will not be happy about any of this.

  Rhys gritted his teeth, staring down at the pieces of the weapons he’d taken apart. Of course she wouldn’t be, but her feelings on the subject didn’t matter. Safety, that was the important thing. Her safety. And the threat to it was real. And if she thought she could be sneaky, and swan off back to Austin without him, she had another think coming.

  Then there was the fact that he was going to have to sit down and explain what all of this shit was all about.

  Rhys picked up a rag and slowly began to clean the various pieces of the guns.

  He didn’t want to lose Vivi’s friendship. He needed it. She was the only one in the whole fucking world who wasn’t afraid of him. For whom he wasn’t either a killer or a guy to be wary of. To Vivi he was just her friend, someone she could count on, could talk to, could trust. The way she saw him had always given him a blueprint for the kind of man he could somehow turn himself into, the chance
to put all that contract killer shit in the past. Be someone different. Be the good guy instead of the bad.

  But any chance of that was gone now, especially after he’d taken Cruz out.

  There was only the truth left.

  The grief he’d been trying to ignore since last night pulled hard inside his chest, making his fingers clench around the bit of metal he held in his hand.

  Fuck, why was he still thinking about having her, when it wasn’t going to happen? When it couldn’t happen, not if he wanted to protect her both from his past and from himself.

  You know what you need to do then, don’t you?

  It was obvious. He’d already put a bullet hole right through the best friend image she’d had of him. Now he needed to explode it completely, grind the little pieces into dust so she would never, never make the mistake of thinking he was one of the good guys ever again.

  With practiced skill, Rhys began to fit the pieces of the gun together again.

  It would frighten her and he didn’t want to frighten her more than he had already, but it had to be done. Her physical safety was the more important than her feelings and far, far more important than his.

  Calmer now that he had some direction with Vivi at least, Rhys finished reassembling his weapons. Then he put them both back in the trunk before getting behind the wheel and starting the engine. Backing out of the makeshift garage, he drove up the road a ways until he got a signal on the burner phone, then, ignoring the sudden influx of messages from Duchess, he typed out a quick text to Rush. The guy was an ex-con and had built up quite a network of useful underworld contacts. Contacts that might prove very handy in tracking down Lee’s movements.

  That handled, he turned the car back around and drove back to the house, parking it once more and securing it, then stalking in through the front door again and shutting it firmly behind him.

  The room was empty and he’d taken a few steps toward the windows before he could stop himself, checking the rocky expanse of scrubland in front of the house, trying to spot any fleeing figures in the distance. But nothing moved, the late afternoon sun lighting up the rocks in reds and golds and pinks.