by Franca Storm
I watch spellbound as she strips off her clothes. She’s fucking gorgeous. Her pert little tits bounce as she walks over to me.
“Wait,” I say as she kneels down beside me, about to climb on.
“What is it?”
I grin. “I need to feel these first,” I say, reaching for her tits and kneading them gently. She moans happily as I shower them with attention. “These are incredible.”
“Unlike the fake ones you usually have bouncing in your face, right?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Unlike those hard things.”
She giggles like a little girl. I smile inwardly. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her so carefree, so human.
I grip her hips and lift her onto me. She turns herself around. I grab her ass and pull her into position. I lick the length of her slit and she gasps in surprise.
“Do you know what to do?” I ask, suddenly remembering that she told me she’s never given head before.
“I guess we’ll see.”
“No teeth. The head’s sensitive. Go easy there. Same with the balls. Other than that, have at it.”
I feel her hot breath on the head of my cock. She hesitates for several moments and I step up my assault on her pussy, encouraging her, turning her on.
And then she licks me. Her hot tongue swirls around it, tasting my pre-cum. Oh my fucking God. She starts licking up the shaft. Long, firm strokes.
“Oh fuck, baby,” I moan. “That feels amazing.”
I thrust a finger inside her pussy. She’s so tight. As I finger fuck her while my tongue tortures her pussy, I gasp as I feel her lips wrap around my cock. Christ, talk about grip. She tries to take me all the way and I hear her gag.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m big. You don’t need to go all the way.”
She decides to take that as a challenge and tries again. I feel my cock hit the back of her throat.
“Jesus Christ,” I pant.
And then she starts to move her head up and down. I fight every instinct I have not to thrust my hips up. I know she needs control right now over something. I already have complete control of her pussy. I distract myself by concentrating on her. I slide a second finger inside her, fucking her hard and I hear her moans, muffled by my cock buried down her throat.
She quickens her pace and then her hand strokes my balls. Damn, she’s good. Too good. I’m so close. I’m gonna blow my load.
I hear her screaming around my cock and her pussy gushes her release. I lap up her juices as she tenses around me. Damn that was fast. This must be turning her on big time then. And I’m not above it myself either. I look down at her and see her head bobbing up and down on my cock furiously. Damn, that’s hot.
“Baby, pull back. I’m gonna come.”
When she doesn’t respond, I reach for her hair. Quickly, I stop myself. She’ll freak out, thinking that I’m going to push her head down. She’s not ready for that.
“Now. I’m gonna come, Alana.”
Still, she doesn’t move. And now it’s too late. I roar my release, cursing like a sailor as usual. I watch in surprise as she doesn’t move her mouth from my cock, instead swallowing every drop of me.
“That’s it, baby. Done,” I tell her.
She starts sucking the head and I jerk. Shit. “No, baby. Sensitive.”
She lifts her head and I gasp as her mouth leaves me. “Sorry,” she tells me with a mischievous grin.
She climbs off me and I sit up and reach for her. She doesn’t even hesitate this time. She comes to me and lets me wrap my arms around her, pulling her against me, her back to my chest.
“You’re sure you’ve never blown a guy before?” I ask as I stroke her soft hair.
“Nope.”
“Well you’re fucking incredible. That thing that you did with your tongue…crazy.”
“Beginner’s luck,” she says.
We both laugh.
“You know, you had absolutely no control over what I did to you in that position, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” she says. “You went easy on me, though. You didn’t thrust or grab my hair.”
“Is that what you were worried about?”
“I…I don’t like that…helpless feeling. Knowing I can’t stop someone from doing something to me.”
I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I know what happened to you, Alana.”
She nods. “I figured when you mentioned that asshole’s name to me.”
“I would never hurt you like that. You know that, right? Never, Alana. I…lov…you’re special to me.”
Shit, did I nearly just tell her I love her? Lucky save. That would’ve fucked up everything. I’m moving way to fast. So much for never getting attached. Although, they say once you meet the one all that shit falls away.
Still, too fast. I might know her—I’ve known her for years—but she doesn’t know me. Not yet.
“Not just your two-hundredth fuck then?” she jests.
“Two hundred, huh? Nope. But the question is: am I just your fifty-fourth fuck?”
She grins sheepishly. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t seem like any of them satisfied you though. Now, stop changing the subject and answer my question.”
“I’ll let you know after we actually fuck,” she says slyly, getting to her feet and heading for the shower.
She winks at me, turns on the water and steps inside, pulling the shower curtain aside, so I can see her standing there naked, soaking wet and lathering herself with soap. I watch spellbound as she takes the bar of soap and rubs it seductively over her tits.
She moves it down between her legs and stops, her gaze locking with mine. “I think I need some help,” she says, coyly. “Could you lend a hand, or two?”
I’m on my feet in a flash and in the shower with her quicker than that. I soap her up between her legs. She writhes against me and I pull back.
“You don’t want to?” she asks. Her hand grips my cock tightly and I grunt. “This does.”
I laugh. “I’m always hard around you.” I bat her hand away. “After we shower, we need to talk.”
“Ooh, are we breaking up?” she teases.
I swallow hard as she steps back against the water and lets it flow all over her sweet, tight body, making little sexy moans to tease me, to tempt me.
I look away quickly. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Before things go any further, you need to.”
“Why?”
“Because you won’t like what you hear. You may not want this with me anymore.”
She scoffs. “I’m a killer for a living, Damon. I doubt there’s anything you can tell me that’ll shock me.”
This is not the time or place to have this conversation. I know that. Yet, for some reason, the look in her eyes affects me and has me rethinking that. Before I can stop myself I end up blurting out, “I knew your father.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth I see the shift in her mood. Her body tenses. Her eyes narrow. Her gaze hardens.
She’s shutting down again.
She responds in a business-like tone, “How? He spent his life in the army.”
“That’s how. We served together.”
She laughs. An unsettling, shrill laugh. “Impossible. You’re thirty-five, according to Mark’s research.”
“Forty-five. His research is wrong. My past is classified.”
She shuts off the shower and leans back against the wall.
“He asked me to keep an eye on you. That’s how I know so much about you,” I reveal.
She stares at me for a long while, not saying anything.
And then she pushes past me and steps out of the shower. She hastily reaches for a towel and wraps it around her to hide her naked body from me. I follow her out and do her the courtesy of securing a towel around my waist.
She brushes her soaking wet hair out of her face and asks, “A couple of years ago I was cornered in an alley by so
me bikers. They wanted retribution after I carried out a hit on their VP. I dealt with most of them, but I missed the guy behind me. A shot was fired out of nowhere and the guy went down. Was that…you?”
I nod. “Yes.”
I watch her try to absorb my revelation. And then anger clouds her features and she yells, “Did my father also tell you to fuck his daughter?”
Ouch. “No. This just…happened, Alana.”
She looks at me like she’s about to hit me. She even takes a threatening step towards me.
But something stops her.
She moves away, cursing. Before I can say anything else she bolts out of the bathroom.
“Shit.”
8
~Alana~
I wake up and try to move, but I feel a weight bearing down on me. I look down to see Damon’s arm glued to my chest and his leg thrown over mine.
Well, this is a first. I’ve never been spooned by a guy before and, knowing Damon’s rep, I doubt he’s ever done it to anyone before either. I’m not sure how I feel about it. His position is very protective and I don’t need anyone’s damned protection. But do I want it? No, of course not! Stop it!
He makes me feel safe. Most women would love that, but not me. In my line of work, I can’t afford to let my guard down like that. And every time Damon and I are together, he has this uncanny ability of breaking down all my defenses. He can get to me. He can get under my skin.
It even crossed my mind a couple of days ago of quitting my job. Me? Quitting? I’m the best of the best out there. But just being with him shone light through the darkness that I let take me long ago. He reached a part of me that I’d thought was buried. Maybe it is time to call it a day—time for me to retire. I don’t need the money anymore. I’ve already made the big bucks. Enough to maintain the lifestyle I want for the rest of my life.
The thing stopping me from walking away? The crash. As soon as I stop it’ll start. Just like what happened to Mark. The nightmares, the merciless guilt. It was what killed my father. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He killed himself. He couldn’t take it anymore. How would I be any different? It would be worse. He killed for his country. I kill for money. There’s no righteousness in that.
I still can’t believe what Damon told me last night. He knew my father. And all this time he was spying on me! Without me knowing it, he actually saved my life from that trigger happy biker. That was why I didn’t take our discussion to a physical level yesterday. I owe him now. Big time.
But as for whatever was happening with us, that’s done now. He’s not the man I’d thought he was. I can’t have people in my life who lie to me. Trust is the difference between life and death doing what I do. No, the risk is too high. We’re done.
Last night he’d wanted to talk about it. He’d climbed into bed and told me that there was more to the story, but I hadn’t wanted to hear it. I was still absorbing what he had told me, working to compartmentalize it so that it didn’t affect me on an emotional level. I can’t afford that shit. I need to remain levelheaded. I can’t be balling my eyes out and showing weakness over my fucking father.
Screw that. I’m stronger than that. I have to be. The minute you show weakness, you become vulnerable. Just like I had with Damon in the bathroom yesterday. Never again.
“Damon,” I say, shaking him.
I want him to release me. I could do it myself. I’m a trained fighter. But I’d rather not hurt him unless I have to. Also, now that I know he knew my father in the military and he’d taken that impossible shot at that biker, I’m no longer sure exactly what he’s capable of. And one of my rules is never to take on an opponent you don’t know well enough, unless there is no other option. That’s just stupid.
He murmurs something tiredly.
“Damon. Get off me,” I tell him, shaking him again.
He opens his eyes and looks at me dazedly. “What?”
I can’t help but smile at the look on his face. He sees it and grins back at me. Instead of releasing me like I’d asked, he tightens his hold around my chest, pulling me into him.
“No,” I protest.
“Shh. Just relax,” he breathes in my ear.
“Damon.”
“Just for a little while, before you end this thing with us.”
My gaze snaps to his. How does he know that? Is he reading my mind now?
I move to speak, but he presses his hand to my mouth.
“Shh. Later.”
I nod and he removes his hand. I relax into him and he moans peacefully.
“You always make me do things.”
He chuckles. “I just push you to do things you already want to do.”
“I never cuddle. Ever.”
“Me neither,” he says. “Now shut that sweet mouth of yours before I silence you by filling it with my cock.”
I rub my ass against his already-hard length and he grunts. “This cock?” I tease.
“Keep that up if you’re ready for me to fuck you, Alana. If not…you’re gonna have to stop.”
I stiffen at his words and still my ass, moving away slightly.
He chuckles. “Thought so.”
“Maybe one day,” I mumble without thinking. Shit, what did I just say? This is not happening. We’re not happening.
“What?” he says, bolting up in the bed.
“I…nothing,” I respond like an idiot school girl.
I break his hold on me and hastily climb out of bed.
“Where are you going?” he asks with an amused smile.
“Uh…coffee. I need…coffee. See ya.”
I hear him laughing at me as I hurry out of the bedroom, almost tripping over in my haste.
9
~Damon~
“You’re sure? This intel is solid?” I bark into my cell phone as I pace up and down the edge of the lake surrounding Alana’s secluded safe house.
“Yeah. That’s where Cartwright’s operating from,” my contact responds.
“Good work. I’ll take it from here,” I say, hanging up abruptly.
I pull the backpack that I’d been storing in Alana’s bedroom off my shoulder and place it on the ground. I had my driver and bodyguard, Mike, pack it. As much as I’d hoped I wouldn’t need it and that Cartwright would come to his senses and back the fuck off, I knew there was a good chance that wouldn’t happen.
After driving us up here, I’d dismissed Mike and he’d taken the limo back to the club. It wouldn’t fit in the garage and it was too conspicuous to be parked out front.
A shame, because it’s bulletproof—always a handy trait.
I look through the trees, back at the house, to make sure Alana isn’t watching me.
She isn’t. And that asshole, Mark, hasn’t returned since his angry exit a couple of days ago, so I don’t need to worry about him either.
I open the bag. I pull out two hip holsters and attach them to my jeans. I smile grimly at the Desert Eagle staring back at me and struggle to push back the surge of memories that wash over me just from seeing it again after all this time. I snatch it up and check the magazine. All good there. Sliding it into the holster at my right hip, I reach for the 9mm Beretta—my backup weapon. I slide it into my left holster. I check the rest of the contents. A first-aid kit, a couple of blades, some rations, a wad of cash, three credit cards and personal IDs in the names of my aliases. And a bullet proof vest. I pull it out and zip up the bag. Shedding my white t-shirt and brown leather jacket, I slip the vest on, securing it with the ease of someone more than a little used to wearing such a thing. I might be cocky, but I’m not stupid. I know I’m a little rusty. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the field. The likelihood of me taking a hit or two when breaking into Robert Cartwright’s base of operations is pretty damn high.
I’ve barely shrugged my jacket back on when I hear tires crunching on the asphalt driveway.
Shit.
I strap my backpack to my back and hurry back to the house. Hopefully, it’s just that asshole, Ma
rk, returning with his tail between his legs. It’s incredible, but Alana has the ability to bring any man to his knees and the amazing thing is that she doesn’t even realize it.
As I reach the house, Alana bolts down the porch steps, Beretta drawn.
I spot the white Sedan crawling up the driveway. It stops a few feet away and four guys jump out.
Two muscle-bound guys decked out in tactical gear cradling M16s catch my attention. Muscle.
The third guy is Cartwright. He starts strolling towards the house, staring down Alana as she aims her gun his way.
The fourth guy is none other than Mark.
Son of a bitch.
I join Alana on the steps and draw my Desert Eagle. I see the surprise in her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything. Now is clearly not the time.
“Mark, what is this?” she demands.
“Me saving your life.”
Cartwright laughs and the sound sends a chill through me as I recall the last time I heard it.
He looks right at me and says, “Long time, Damon.”
“Not long enough,” I hiss.
He smirks and turns his attention to Alana. “You’re gonna kill him and we’re gonna watch. Then we’re gonna walk away. I won’t bother you again. You should thank your friend for this deal. I’m not usually this accommodating, Miss Halton.”
“I’m not killing him. If you’re so determined, why don’t you do it? You’re right here.”
I smile inwardly, impressed by her question. Good point, baby. She’s trying to unnerve him.
“Because he’s not good enough,” I growl at Cartwright.
I see the surprise on Alana’s face.
And so does Cartwright.
“You didn’t know he was a world-class contract killer once upon a time?” he asks her. “Did he also neglect to tell you why he quit?”
“Don’t,” I seethe, cocking my gun.
“I wouldn’t,” he tells me, gesturing behind him at his guys training their rifles on me. He smirks at me and addresses Alana, “He choked. Couldn’t hold his goddamn gun steady. Some PTSD shit, according to the rumors. You wanna know who his target was that day?”
“Stop, Rob!”
He ignores me and tells her, “Andrew Forest.”
