Belonging to the Hitman: Men of Ruthless Corp.

by Frankie Love

  "I know. I can always go back to school though, Dad. I don't love it. I don't even like it. I'm going through the motions and I'm just getting this feeling like life is precious, short. There are no guarantees. I know I'm just twenty-one years old, but if this was the last year of my life, I wouldn't want to spend it on a college campus. I'd want to be in a studio with a sewing machine designing art."

  "I thought you were making clothing."

  "Dad, it's not the same thing. And honestly you should understand. Mom was a creative soul too."

  "So you came out here to get my blessing to quit school, throw all of that hard work away?"

  "Is it throwing it away? Dad, all that hard work has made me who I am."

  "So what next?" Dad asks. "You're just going to go to the registrar's office and withdraw?"

  "I guess. And maybe get a job until the clothing line takes off.”

  “A job? Fi, you’ve grown up attending the finest boarding school and flying in private jets.”

  “Dad, I don't care about the jets. Do I appreciate the accommodations? Sure. But it's not necessary."

  "I'm taking care of you," he says, "until you marry a man who can do that. I'm perfectly happy to pay your expenses, Fiona. God, what do you think I am?”

  “I don't know, Daddy. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."

  "You're not. I want you to be happy. Is this a shock? Sure. But I suppose there are worse things than a child wanting to follow their heart."

  I wrap my arms around him. "Oh, Dad. Thank you so much."

  He laughs. "All right. Is that it? Are you flying back right now? Come for one conversation and be done?"

  I shake my head. "No, I'm meeting Lucia at the Crown Casino Beach Club. We're going swimming."

  "She's still going to school here?"

  I nod, "Yes. She's living at the casino. Her dad gave her a penthouse apartment."

  "Good. Her dad always was smart."

  I laugh. "Oh, Daddy. I love you. Tomorrow’s a Saturday. I know you always work at home on Saturday afternoons, but surely you’re free for breakfast?"

  Dad nods. "That'll work," he says. "In fact, that sounds great. I'll have my chef prepare us something delicious.”

  "I love you," I say before taking my leave.

  And as the Town Car rolls away from Dad's estate, my heart feels full, knowing my dad's always in my corner.

  It would kill me if anything ever happened to him.

  At the beach club, Lucia and I quickly change at the cabana that is exclusively hers. She hands me a piña colada. "I know you're not much of a drinker, but these are divine. And God, I've missed you so much, Fifi. It's been ages."

  I laugh. "I know." We're both in school, which means we don't get much of a break. “But,” I say with a twinkle in my eye, "that's changing."

  "How so?" she asks. She goes to college here in Vegas. We grew up best friends going to the same boarding school. I wanted her to go to school with me at UCLA, but she wanted to stay close to her family after spending so many years abroad.

  I reveal my new plan to her. "Oh, my God," she says, squealing. "You're going to make a whole clothing line?"

  I nod. "I think so. What do you think?"

  "I think it's about time. You've been talking about this for what? Two years?"

  "Maybe three," I say.

  "By the way, did you make that bikini? Because it is H-O-T hot."

  "Thanks," I say, twirling around, "and yes, I did."

  "Well, it really flatters your ass."

  I laugh. "Your bikini is pretty cute too."

  She grins, "Thanks. Just got it at Versace."

  She and I have completely different figures. She is tall and slender, with the body of a supermodel. Me, I'm a little bit curvy and I’ve got some extra junk in the trunk. I like my body and I wouldn't want to change the way I look. Even if it means I have a few more dimples in my thighs and a few more stretch marks across my belly.

  "So, you want to go swimming?" I ask.

  She shakes her head, reaching for her tropical drink. "No, I just want to lie out here in the sun."

  "Well, I have to cool off. I’m roasting."

  She laughs. "Okay. Go take a dip and then join me back here. Your piña colada is already melting."

  At the edge of the pool, the guests of the Crown Casino lounge all around me. I pause, catching the eye of a man that stands out from the crowd in the pool.

  He's just come up from the water. It’s dripping off his face, his sexy beard. His shoulders are wide and muscular, tanned. Covered in tattoos. His eyes are piercingly blue, his hair reddish brown. I lift my eyebrows, taking him in.

  I want to cool off. And he is a tall glass of water I need.

  Hot and bothered, I lift my arms over my head and dive right in.

  3

  Flynn

  When she comes up for air, I decide now is not the time to be shy. Instead, I take my boss Rogue's advice and I choose to give in to a little bit of fun.

  Maybe a little bit more than fun, in fact, because this woman, this mermaid brought to life, this creature is so beautiful my cock is already hard and my heart is beating faster than it probably should. And I know she's more than a good time.

  More than a little afternoon delight who might help me let off some steam. Hell, I don't need to lose steam, anyways. I need to get my mind screwed on straight because one look at this woman and it's all a mess.

  Fuck, she is beautiful.

  We gravitate toward one another. There's a pull, a reckoning that's happening in the middle of this pool, in the middle of this club, in the middle of the city of sin.

  She swims towards me and I swim towards her and fuck, her tits look good. She's in a teeny tiny white string bikini. Not much material. As I swim closer though, on the triangle top I read the words that have been embroidered in hot pink thread. They whisper a promise. And fuck, I'll keep it.

  The words read be my temptation.

  I lick my lips. I fucking go in for the kill. After all, isn't that what I do for a living? I shoot straight from the hip.

  “I'm Flynn,” I tell her, running a hand through my wet hair.

  She takes me in, seeing my tattoos and my muscles, my earrings. I don't have to ask what she's thinking because I can feel it pulsing off of her.

  Is that an exaggeration? No, it's not. It's something that is happening. Something that is real. Something that is ours and hell no, I'm not going to let it go.

  “I'm Fifi,” she says, her voice bright, like the sun itself cracking open. “You from around here?” she asks.

  Her teeth are bright white, her smile wide. She's petite and curvy. And fuck, I like her hips. I want to wrap my arms around them and drag her close. Lift her up to my waist. Let her sit down on my cock, her feet wrapped around me.

  I want to pull her to the edge of the pool, then I want to take her farther than that. I want to take her to the end of the goddamn earth and then let's see what will happen.

  I'll tell you what will happen, it'll be a fucking orgasmic miracle.

  Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

  “No,” I tell her. “I'm not. I'm from Los Angeles.”

  Her eyes lift. “Really? So am I. I go to UCLA, or I went to UCLA.”

  “Why the shift?” I ask. “You're no longer a student or you graduated?”

  “I quit,” she says. “It's liberating. I actually just told my father. I thought he would be mad, but I think he was actually proud.”

  “Yeah?” I find myself smiling despite myself. I'm a hard motherfucker. I’ve got blood on my hands in ways that would frighten this sweetheart. But somehow, when I'm next to her, I want to smile. How has that happened in less than a minute? In less than the length of a conversation?

  I want to open up and give her everything. And I’m scared that she might swim away before I get the goddamn chance.

  “Proud of you because you're doing what you want?” I ask.

  She nods. “Pret
ty much. My mom was a seamstress and I’ve always wanted to be like her, but I found myself getting a finance degree at college.” She shakes her head. “It's nothing that I wanted.”

  “And what do you want?” I ask.

  She scrunches up her nose and fuck, she's cute. Her cheeks have dimples. Of course they do. “I want to make clothes. Actually, I already make clothes and sell them online. It's kind of going well.”

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s awesome. Did you make that swimsuit?” My eyes linger on her tits. Fuck, they're perfect. Big and round. Really big. The kind of tits that I could press my cock between. The kind of tits that would do good to be fucked.

  Damn, this is trouble, where my head is, where my cock is headed. It's like it's taking over. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe that's the right thing.

  “Yeah,” she says with pride. “I did make this. Do you like it?” She licks her lips and I know she knows what I'm thinking.

  “Yeah, it’s really fucking cute,” I tell her. I want to reach out and trace the letters on her tits. And then, just like that, I am. It's like I can't hold back. “Be my temptation,” I read as my fingers trace the pink letters. “You could get in trouble with words like that on your tits,” I tell her.

  She smirks. “Maybe that's the point.”

  “Yeah?” I ask. “You like trouble?”

  Her eyes catch on something in the distance. Someone. She looks over at someone who's waving to her from inside a cabana.

  For a split second, I get scared. Does she have a boyfriend? A man in her life? Because that won't do. She belongs to me now. Even if she doesn't know it yet.

  “That's Lucia,” Fifi explains. “She's my best friend. “Hey,” Fifi calls out. “Come in the water.”

  The woman shakes her head. She's long and lean. A guy like Tommy would want her. But not me. My eyes? They're only for Fifi.

  Instead of joining us, Fifi’s friend Lucia walks toward the bar. “Does your friend want something to drink?” the woman calls out.

  Fifi looks at me. “You want to stick around for a drink?”

  “With you? Yeah, I’ll have a beer.”

  She smiles. “Lucky me.”

  “No.” I laugh. “Lucky fuckin’ me.”

  Fifi swims over to the edge of the pool and tells Lucia the order.

  When she swims back to me, she says, “So, you didn't answer. What are you in town for?”

  “Work,” I say quickly.

  “What kind of work do you do?” she presses.

  I run a hand over my jaw, wishing the beer were here already. I swear I could drink half in one pull. Anything to avoid this question, this answer. That's why you can't date when you do what I do, because relationships don't exactly work. Women don't like it when they find out you kill for a living.

  "I'm a bodyguard," I tell her, thinking that's the easiest way to get around the truth.

  "That's interesting," she says. "Who do you protect?"

  "That falls under client confidentiality."

  She nods. "Okay, that makes sense. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble. Is it dangerous?" she asks.

  "Kind of," I say, "but there's worse things than doing something that's dangerous."

  "Like what?"

  "Like missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime."

  "Wow. And what's this opportunity?" she asks.

  I look into her beautiful eyes. "You, this, us." She laughs, thinking I'm joking, but I'm not. "If you knew me better, you would realize how fucking serious I am." She shakes her head, heat rising to her cheeks. "Am I embarrassing you?" I ask.

  She shrugs. "I feel like maybe you should be, but you're not. I like how you talk. It's direct, to the point." She licks her lips again. "You don't beat around the bush."

  "No point in that," I say. "Life's too short to waste it not asking for what you want."

  Fifi pulls in a sharp breath. "And Flynn, what is it that you want?"

  I lift an eyebrow. "You." I say unabashedly, without hesitation. "I want you, Fifi, I want you now."

  4

  Fiona

  There were a few times in life I almost lost my virginity. My prom date was an option, but he passed out before we even got to the hotel. And there was the surfer in Barcelona the summer after sophomore year. He was so charming until he spoke, which posed a problem. A big problem, really.

  I was never the settling type anyways. So even if we had passed second and third base, rounding towards home, I don't think I would have been able to give myself over to the moment and seal the deal.

  Those guys were fun and cute to some degree, but they weren't men. They were not Flynn.

  And now standing in this pool, Lucia calling us over, handing us beer and a fresh piña colada, I consider Flynn's words. Lucia sits down on the edge of the pool, her feet in the water, smiling gregariously, bubbly. I love her.

  She's good at making conversation. Usually it's not my strongest suit. I get a little shy or nervous around men because I don't have a lot of experience with them. Lucia though, she is familiar. If it's okay to say such a thing, she likes to date and she's good at it. Me, I'm one of those girls who could star in a romantic comedy, Never Been Kissed, The 40-Year-Old Virgin, something like that.

  Anyways, now she's asking Flynn all sorts of things, but I can't even let my mind still for a moment to listen to his answers. Where do you live? What's your place like? How long have you been a bodyguard? Favorite movie? Favorite color?

  My mind is spinning, not with his answers, with her questions, but with his statement—"I want you."

  He wants me. And I want him too. I swallow, looking over at him, realizing this piña colada couldn't have come at a better time.

  Straw between my lips, I suck it down. It's cold and it fills my belly in the perfect kind of way. Numbing, making me forget what's actually happening. A proposition, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, the kind of thing I've been waiting twenty-one years for, and now it's here.

  God, my father would kill me if he knew I was even entertaining such a thing. I'm his little princess, but Daddy's not here right now. And I'm a grown ass woman. Today I made a decision all on my own. I told my father what I wanted and look what it got me.

  Maybe saying what I need isn't the dumbest idea. Maybe, actually, it's the best thing to do, to stop holding back, to stop waiting. I said I wasn't going to keep going to college if I didn't want to, but maybe the same thing rings true here.

  Why hold onto my virginity if the man I want to take it is standing right in front of me? After all, who knows how long the offer stands?

  No one stays in Vegas for long, except for my father. And I suppose Lucia and her family, and the O'Malley's. Okay. So a lot of people stick around in Vegas, but not me. I live for saltwater and the ocean breeze. I was made for sand between my toes and that dog, I want a dog.

  "What?" Flynn asks, as if reading my mind, knowing that I'm thinking something.

  "Nothing," I say, taking another sip. "Okay, actually, I was just thinking about how I really want a dog. I like to work out and I run on the beach, but I was thinking, wouldn't it be nice to run on the beach with a dog?"

  Lucia laughs. "That's so random. Where do you even come up with things like this?"

  "Like what?" I ask. "Isn't a dog the most American thing ever? Having a dog, and a backyard, and a picket fence."

  "You want a picket fence too?" Lucia asks. "What happened to my best friend?"

  I laugh. "I don't know." I look at Flynn. "I feel dizzy."

  "Dizzy like overheated?" he asks, wrapping an arm around me.

  I smile. Okay. So maybe I wanted that to happen. "No," I say dreamily. "Dizzy like happy. Like maybe this is going to be a really good night."

  There's a twinkle in my eye. I can't see it, but I feel it. Lucia does too.

  "Oh my God. Are you guys like, hooking up? You met literally ten minutes ago."

  I laugh. "Yeah. Crazy, right?" The words come out so breezily she has to do a double-t
ake.

  Flynn, me, Flynn, me. "Oh my God. You're serious. Flynn, this girl's a virgin. You have to be careful."

  I smack my friend on the thigh. "Lucia!" I shriek. "You can't say things like that."

  "Why not? It's the truth. I don't want you to get hurt. Flynn, are you going to hurt her?"

  He shakes his head, raises a hand, "Scout's honor. I would never.”

  "You were a Boy Scout?" I ask.

  He shrugs. "Maybe. That's an all-American thing too. Right?"

  I laugh. "Yeah, it is."

  "What kind of dog do you want?" he asks me.

  "A French bulldog," I say without hesitation.

  He shakes his head. "Oh Fifi, what are we going to do with you? That's a terrible idea."

  "It is? Why? They're so cute."

  "Yeah, but they're not runners. You need a dog that you can put on a leash to run with you. How far do you run?"

  He looks down at me, looking me over, taking in my legs, my thighs. My skin prickles. I'm in ice-cold water, yet I feel all hot and bothered in the most luxurious way.

  "I run maybe five miles a day."

  "I like it," he says. "We can be running buddies."

  Lucia snorts, "More like fuck buddies."

  I drop my mouth wide open. "You can't say that either!"

  "Why not? This girl..." She looks at Flynn, resting a hand on his shoulder. "She's the best. She's that one-in-a-million kind of girl who's like a sliver of sunshine that brightens up a room. I mean, look at those freckles, those dimples, my God."

  Flynn nods, serious. "I couldn't agree more." He's not joking. He thinks it's true. It's like he sees me like my best friend does, but also like the object of his desire. God, I like the sound of that.

  "So what are you two waiting for?" Lucia asks.

  I take in a sharp breath. "What do you mean? Like we should just go have sex right now?" I ask, looking between them. "I don't know how this works. I told you I'm a virgin."