An Assassin's Deception

by A. K. Koonce

  “Tylin asked Allison to bring him proof. She left. Then he trailed her.”

  “And Scar?”

  His hands lift at his sides. “She slips out a lot.”

  My brows raise at that. Scarlett’s an intriguing person. I know she left the League before Jameson did, but where did she go while she was on her own with no one to help her? And where does she keep going now?

  I take a few steps closer and his back physically presses into the countertop to allow more space between us. Nearly two yards still separate us. Two yards in this tiny loft is like an ocean of distance.

  “About last night, it’s not a big deal.” I stare up at him hard but he avoids my gaze.

  “Yeah.” He nods.

  “We’re okay? It didn’t mean anything?” I try to press him, but I force myself not to come any closer.

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  My throat constricts when I swallow.

  We’re back to one and two word answers.

  Perfect.

  My lip twitches and I try to force it into a smile. But it doesn’t go.

  My head jars with a nod and I take a single step back. I turn on my heels and the loft is silent as I walk away. The bathroom door slams unintentionally.

  It’s so fucking flimsy.

  My eyes close at how terrible that all just went.

  I throw my shirt to the floor and replay the conversation over and over again in my head as I stand like a crazy person, pacing in only my bra and underwear.

  Mason’s voice hums into the room. He’s awake. Mason is finally awake!

  He’ll make me feel better. He knows all the right ways to make me feel better.

  As if I’m throwing up The Bat Signal, I turn on the shower. That’ll get his attention right? Nothing says I’m waiting for you to screw my brains out like a shower invitation…

  Minutes tick by as the room fills with unbearable humidity, the steam drifting along the ceiling.

  Nothing happens.

  Slowly and quietly, I crack the door open. My fingers grip the edge of the door as I eavesdrop on the hushed words whispering around the living room.

  “I don’t get it. You guys are finally friends. I thought you two would murder each other before you were ever friends. Why are you pushing her away?” Mason’s arms fold over his chest. His back is to me and his head tilts just slightly as he stares down at Rory who sits at the end of the couch.

  They’re all so protective of me. Unfortunately that puts them all in hot water with each other from time to time it seems. I love and hate this side of them. Will it always be like this? Will we always be circling one another, or with time will it change? When will we all be perfectly together, all together on the same side?

  I can’t handle the thought that it might be never.

  Rory doesn’t seem to find the conversation as serious as his friend does. His voice is barely quieted and it carries to me as if he’s speaking right to my face.

  “I don’t want to be her fucking friend.” I flinch from Rory’s words, and it feels like we just took five steps backward. Not that we were really winning any races in the marathon of friendship or anything.

  I should shut the door, I don’t want to hear his blatant honesty. But I can’t seem to pull myself away from their private conversation.

  Jameson stands on the second floor, staring down at the two but not joining their discussion at all.

  “Yeah, you’re too late for that. You’re already her fucking friend. Why are you being a dick and pushing her away?” Mason says.

  “Because—” A heavy breath pushes from Rory’s lungs. “Because I—I thought you were fucking her because she’s hot.”

  My brows lower and I’d be flattered if I wasn’t so insulted.

  A quiet laugh echoes around the room and my narrowed gaze flickers to Jameson’s smirk for only a moment.

  “She’s smart. And she’s funny and she’s so fucking sexy it’s infuriating.” Rory pushes his palm over his face and down the stubble of his jaw.

  My heart warms, swarming me with emotions from his almost sweet words. Rory thinks I’m more than just hot.

  And that confuses the hell out of him, it seems.

  “So you’re treating her like shit because you like her? That’s… slightly juvenile.” Mason nods and Rory shakes his head at him.

  “I don’t want to like her. I’m perfectly happy to watch you and Jameson and even fucking Tylin fall all over yourselves to be with her. I don’t want to be just one more number in her harem of men.”

  “Harem… I never knew you were an anime fan, Rory.” Jameson leans over the railing of the second floor and both men look up at the scarred golden boy.

  A smile tilts my lips, happy to hear Jameson joking around again. The meager happiness I’m feeling is trying to break through the heavy weight of pain in my chest. Rory doesn’t want me. He thinks I’m just collecting them all like lost Pokemon.

  My lips pull down as I swallow hard at that. At first, I guess I was. I was happy to just be friends with Mason and Jameson and reap all the benefits without question.

  Now, I want them. I want them as mine. And I want to be theirs.

  I—I love them.

  Rory doesn’t want any part of that. Not a commitment, not benefits, not even a friendship.

  That hurts most of all. We were finally making progress. Slow, tentative progress.

  I try to pull the door closed and force all those words that I’ve heard over the last five minutes from my head. The old hinges creak the moment the door moves. I freeze, my heart pounding through my chest. It takes a second for me to slip my fingers from the door one by one and pull it closed the rest of the way.

  “Alexa?” The sound of my name in Mason’s low, patient timber carries through the building, past the sound of the shower and through the heavy guilt that I’m starting to surround myself with.

  I lick my lips quickly and try to steady my voice into a convincing sound of innocence.

  “Yeah?”

  That was brilliantly convincing. Yes, yes.

  “Get your ass out here.”

  My eyes close because I know they know that I know.

  “I’m half naked, Mase.”

  “Everyone in this room has seen your ass. Get out here.”

  The authority in his voice probably shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does…

  I peer down at the lace of my bra, the sheer material and the minimal amount of coverage my thong gives me.

  Perfect.

  My fingers grip the metal handle and with a quick breath, I open the door. Mason now stands behind the couch, directly behind Rory, looking over him like a representative in a hearing. Which he probably will be very soon. Jameson sits on the bottom step, his head tipping up to get a better view of me when I finally step out of my little hiding spot.

  I know the exact moment Jameson recognizes the get up I’m wearing. The one he picked out when we were shopping.

  Hungry gazes warm my flesh and I try my best to appear completely unaffected.

  My palms raise from my sides as I wait for Mason, as if Rory’s shitty words aren’t still lingering in my mind.

  “Come here.” The dark depthlessness of Mason’s gaze holds hard to mine and I force myself not to look away as I take slow steps toward him. My thighs rub together with each small step I take and all I can think about is how on display I feel right now.

  Not in a bad way, not in a criticizing way but in an appreciative, worshiping way.

  The moment I’m in front of Rory, I let my leg skim his as I start to walk around him, but Mason leans over his friend, his fingers tangling quickly with mine before he jerks me forward—hard. My legs give out and warm palms steady me as I fall forward. Strong thighs support me when I straddle over Rory’s lap, his fingers tense against the curves of my hips, sending a reckless feeling through me. It takes me a second to realize I’m holding Mason’s hand while my other palm is firmly against Rory’s shoulder.

 
The hot feel of his hands on my body shift until his big palms press low on my back, just above the curve of my ass. I arch against his touch, my breasts just inches from his serious face.

  “Now, tell her again what you just told me.” Mason’s voice cuts through the room, commanding his friend to repeat the shitty things I’ve already heard him say.

  The awful feeling in my stomach flares up and tangles thickly with my rising anxiety. I don’t need to hear it all again.

  “Mason, I already—”

  His words cut me off.

  “It’s okay.” His thumb brushes back and forth against my knuckles but he keeps his hard gaze held on the back of Rory’s head. “I want to hear him say it to you.”

  I shift in the man’s lap. This feels a little like that cruel turning point in a movie where the kids say mean and terrible things to the new girl…

  But it’s not. I know Mason would never hurt me. None of them would ever allow anyone to hurt me.

  And that’s when I realize Rory doesn’t have the balls to tell me he doesn’t want me.

  I’m aware of every breath I take, every intake that fills my lungs and every exhale that washes over the man staring up at me right now. The emerald color of his eyes is lined by thick, dark lashes that only serve to highlight the guilt within his gaze.

  “Tell me.” I settle my weight into his lap boldly, pressing my center against him as I release Mason’s hand and bring my palms closer to push along the coarse stubble of his jaw. He lets me. He lets my fingers drift along his cheek as I wait patiently for him to say whatever it is he wants to say to me.

  “I said…” His tongue skims against his lower lip and I tilt my head down to him as if anticipating the kiss against his lips. “I said you’re so sexy it’s infuriating.” His fingertips dig into my skin, pushing my core more firmly against his hardness beneath me. “And here you are proving me right. Again.” A half smile pulls at his lips as warmth floods my chest.

  He leans into me, his lips just a fraction of an inch from mine. His taunting gaze never leaves mine when he lowers his head even more. The rough feel of his scruff scrapes along my neck as he slowly presses a kiss there. A breath slips from my lungs as my lashes flutter.

  He won’t kiss me. Not in a room of people. Not because there’s too many watchers but because it’d be the first time he kissed me and I know he’d never share that with everyone else. He’s private. I get it. I love it.

  But it apparently doesn’t stop him from showing me how he feels. His tongue sears across my flesh as he skims even lower down my body. My fingers cling to his jaw as it works against my skin and the moment my lips part with a shaking moan, Mason slams his mouth against mine. He leans over the couch, tangling my hair into his fist as he deepens the kiss, angling himself just right to roll his tongue along mine in a way that only Mason can.

  Warm fingers brush along the path of my spine before meeting the clasp of my bra. The material loosens against my heavy breasts and Rory pushes it away. Energy tightens in my core as his hot breath fans across my sensitive skin. My hips rock hard against his just as the flat of his tongue flicks at my nipple before his teeth rake over that same spot. A low moan shakes through me and Mason takes every sound I make deep into his mouth.

  Two palms whisper across my abdomen, one pushing slow and low until I arch against someone standing behind me.

  “He’s right.” Jameson’s words skim against my neck and he takes his time pushing my long hair away so his lips can brush against my flesh. “You’re frustratingly sexy.”

  His teeth drag along the curve of my neck before grazing his lips sweetly against my throat. Sweet, gentle, and tender kisses press there while his fingers slip lower and lower. Jameson palms my sex, his knuckles rocking against Rory’s bulge as he teases me slowly before finally pushing aside my panties and slipping his fingers up and then down my slick folds.

  Mason breaks our kiss, pulling back to look down at how his friends are touching, stroking, and devouring me. His hooded dark eyes meet mine with an intense look burning in his gaze.

  Jameson pushes two fingers deep inside, rocking his palm hard over my clit while Rory’s tongue flicks slowly across my nipple, flaring heat all through my core with one small move.

  My teeth clench as my legs shake, my head falling back against Jameson’s chest. Every sensation wracks through my body in waves of pleasure. My lashes flutter hard and when a heavy breath falls from my lips, Mason wraps his hand around my hair again, bringing me back to his mouth but not sealing his lips to mine.

  “You want to come on his hand?” Mason’s low words make me tremble beneath their touch. “Against his cock?” The deep tone of his voice is the opposite of the whimpering incoherent sound I make in reply. I grind my hips against Jameson’s hand, pressing myself firmly down against the hard length of Rory, as Mason’s rasping demand whispers against my parted lips. “Come for us, Alexa.” My moan kisses Mason’s tongue as he claims my mouth hard against his.

  Rory’s fingers pinch lightly against my other nipple before taking it fully into his mouth. Hot stokes of his tongue swirl before he sucks hard. Jameson’s pace quickens. He arches his fingers just right along my walls, and I can’t help but grind myself against his palm, pressing every stroke of his hand into the hard erection I feel beneath Rory’s jeans. The rumbling sound of Rory’s groan is in rhythm with my own and the deep sound of his arousal makes my sex clench, my orgasm soaking Jameson’s fingers as I cry out against Mason’s lips. He kisses away the sound with gentle and caressing skims of his lips against mine. The three of them become still around me, pulling back to look up at me as my eyes shut tightly, my body growing weak against the three men.

  Jameson’s fingers slip from my underwear and his palms linger along my hips while Rory’s hands press low down the small of my back. They hold me, letting me relax against them as waves of my orgasm tingle through my body.

  My lashes flutter open and Mason’s dark, assessing gaze trails across my features, seemingly memorizing every detail. Slowly I lower my attention to Rory. My heart tightens with emotions I’ve never felt before. The coarse feel of his beard meets my fingertips as I lightly skim along his jaw, brushing my thumb over his lower lip. I wonder what it’d feel like to kiss him.

  Would it be a breathtaking feeling that tingles down to my toes or a consuming dominance of his mouth that controls every reckless beat of my heart?

  “I—” his palm skims the curve of my jaw as he seems to think through his words, “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately.”

  My lips part and before I can reply, Jameson beats me to it.

  “Just lately?”

  Twenty-Six

  Golden Connections

  Steam from my chipped white mug wafts into the air while I stare blankly at the little floating marshmallows swirling in my hot chocolate. The TV echoes around the hard walls of the loft and the soft tapping of Mason at his keyboard creates a soothing rhythm. The blend of noises sounds like home to me now. This place, being with these guys, is starting to feel like home too.

  Moonlight filters through the high windows as I take a seat at the small wooden table. My hands wrap around the mug, absorbing the heat while I wait for Tylin to arrive home.

  Blasting sounds from the war scene in Wonder Woman that Allison, Scarlet, Jameson, and Rory are watching mirror the turmoil I’m feeling inside.

  And for a girl who controls time itself, I spend the long evening flicking my gaze between those marshmallows and the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen. Each second ticks by with agonizing slowness, and for once I wish I had the ability to speed time up instead of freezing it cold.

  Tick.

  Tock.

  My hot chocolate is cool by the the time the door of the loft swings open with a squeaking groan and Tylin enters with a strange man that I assume is their friend, Vale. The one I’ve been waiting on all day.

  He’s tall. Taller than Tylin, and his skin is a beautiful light mocha brown
. His pale green gaze searches the room before settling on mine. There’s no denying the truth that swims in the depth of his eyes or the creepy way he’s appraising me.

  Aside from the unsettling air about him, the rest of him appears harmless. Large hands hang at his sides, and he’s one of the first assassin’s I’ve seen who doesn’t choose to dress darkly. Stylish jeans fit his strong, lean build, and he wears a gray shirt under a white designer coat. A dark gray beanie sits on his head, completing a very put together look. Vale could have stepped straight from the pages of some clothing catalog.

  Somewhere behind me, one of the guys clears their throat, but I don’t drag my gaze from the stranger. Jameson cocks a pale and curious brow at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

  This dude is all that’s standing between me and answers.

  And I’ve been preparing myself all day for whatever it is he can confirm or deny for me.

  “That bad, huh?” I ask him.

  Mason glides effortlessly into the kitchen and makes his way silently behind my chair. The warmth of his fingers grazes my back as he braces his hands on the top of the seat. The touch is comforting and I lean back into him, taking the support he’s offering me.

  “Siblingship DNA tests aren’t one-hundred percent accurate without a DNA sample from either your maternal or paternal side. With that said, we were able to confirm that you and Allison do share some of the same markers within your DNA. Full blooded sisters actually only share about fifty percent of the same DNA while half sisters share even less, roughly twenty five percent,” Mase explains softly, his voice a lull that I try to follow while I keep my eyes locked on Vale.

  “We were able to match you as half sisters.” Tylin finishes, and I’m surprised to hear a note of caring in his tone that takes the edge off of the bossy way his words usually slice through a room.

  Still, my attention doesn’t divert from Vale.

  His head dips just a little, and his eyes intensify. I didn’t think that was possible, but the green in his eyes glows, casting an eerie green tint over his rich features.

  “He speaks the truth. They both do.” A slight accent coats his words and I nod. He’s a captivating man to look at as well as to listen to.