Making the Cut

by A. J. Macey

  “Oh, fuck off, you bloody sap. I know you don’t want to kill her either,” Ciar snapped at my prodding. “Don’t forget, you are also a cold-blooded assassin, and you can easily take control when you want to.” Chuckling to myself, I did just that, letting Ciar keep a grip on the last bit of his hold of our shared body. I wanted him to be fully present for what was about to happen.

  “I can make you beg,” I murmured, reveling in the way her pupils blew out wide and the softest heated whimper escaped. Leaning forward until our noses brushed, I continued, “But not for mercy. No, little kittycat, I’ll make you beg to come and release as I relentlessly fuck you without leniency.” She chuckled, despite the desire blatant on her face, the sound was cold.

  “You think I would just let you fuck me?” she hissed with a smirk, closing the distance between us until her lips brushed mine with each word. “No, little assassin. You’ve got to fight for the privilege to fuck me.” At the end of her statement, she moved out of our embrace, her eyes glued to mine. Oh, be still my heart, a woman who loves the chase as much as we do, I moaned, barely keeping the sound contained, can’t let her know we’re excited. Yet. Ciar maneuvered forward in our mind, giving one last cruel smile. Pulling the gloves off one finger at a time, we watched her disengage her weapon’s hammer, pulling an extra ammo magazine from her waistband. Finally, when we were both ready for what we knew was about to happen, Ciar relinquished control, content to observe from the recesses of our mind, his focus on why she made him hesitate.***

  “It would be my pleasure to fight for your pussy, my little kittycat,” I murmured, fire burning me from the inside out, the excitement building within me nothing like the thrill of the kill. Killing fueled that predatorial need within me, but this...this little kittycat was sin itself, and I couldn’t stop myself from enjoying being burned alive by her flame.

  She cocked a brow and threw me a self-assured smirk, darting to the side and out of the room. Oh, I don’t think so, I hummed dangerously. While she was fast, I was faster, and my longer legs ate up the distance between us so as soon as I reached her, I pinned her against the wall. Berries and grease, luscious curves, and the softest moan I had ever heard had me grinding against her. A sharp, precisely thrown elbow to my ribs had me stepping back slightly, but before she could run, I trapped her against the wall, her dainty wrists clutched in my hands.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I whispered, my heartbeat racing within my ears as her tits pressed into my chest.

  “I’ll kiss it all better later, promise,” she moaned, and my cock thudded when her teeth nipped at my ear lobe. Kiss what better, Kittycat?

  What came next surprised me, a sharp thud right between my legs that caused waves of pain to radiate through my groin and up to my lower stomach. Unable to stop the groan that rumbled through my chest, I hunched, bracing myself against the section of wall the little minx had just vacated, Warily, I watched her make her way to the upper level. She better kiss that all better later.

  As soon as the ache eased enough to move, I pushed off the wall and sprinted up the stairs after her. My body was buzzing with energy, itching to finally sink my hard cock into her pussy, and when I spied the California King mattress, I couldn’t stop the crazed smile that took over my face.

  “My kittycat fights dirty,” I murmured, continuing to scan the space for my prize when a weight slammed into me. Stumbling, I was able to stay standing as a cool strap wrapped around my neck. The coldness seeped into me, my smile falling into a thin line when I realized she was trying to strangle me. No matter how I twisted or turned, her legs wouldn’t loosen her grip around my torso. She might just be my kind of woman.

  Her hands stilled, and the slackening pressure made me pause. What are you doing, Kittycat? My mind whispered. A soft, supple leather belt had been latched around my neck, and I used her hesitation as an opportunity to explore the makeshift collar. It wasn’t tight enough to impede my breathing or blood flow, but it was snug and didn’t shift as I fiddled with it.

  “Let’s see here,” she stated in a sinfully smooth tone, her legs finally releasing my chest. “Looks like you’re my pet now, little assassin.” When she moved to stand in front of me, the sight of the excess belt tightly gripped in her grasp combined with her teasing flirtation sent a jolt through me. .

  With her declaration, there was no more Skill Shot. No more just being an assassin. No. I smiled as my mind raced, taking in her half-lidded mossy eyes, tanned skin, and cocky smirk. Now, all I could feel was an assassin and his kittycat.

  “Then I’m yours, Kittycat,” I declared, claiming her lips greedily.

  This little ball of feisty dynamite was mine, and I was hers, and I was determined to take her for myself. Reaching up, I grabbed the soft neckline of her tank and ripped. “Fuck me,” I murmured, my eyes nearly rolling back as I cupped her tattooed tits in my hands, her pebbled nipples hard between the tips of my fingers.

  “That’s what I plan on doing,” she sassed, shredding my shirt the same way I had hers before digging her nails into my pecs and clawing her way down until she reached my jeans. Fuck, I moaned, shuddering at the sharp sting that raced through my body, nearly drowning in pain fueled pleasure.

  As soon as she had my painfully hard cock from my jeans, I couldn’t hold back, needing to feel her slick pussy around me, to make her mine. Yanking her around, I pushed her up against the wall, baring her ass to me as I shoved her shorts down and out of the way. Lining up, I pushed in, revelling in knowing she was completely and utterly soaked for me.

  “Fucking God damn it,” she moaned, her fingers clawing at the wall when I didn’t give her time to adjust before pulling out and thrusting in hard and fast. Her restrained moans quickly grew until all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears and her screams, and when I felt her start to clamp down around me, I pulled out completely, holding her trembling body to my bloody chest.

  “You know what you have to do to get your release, my little thief,” I hissed, my smile manic, my mind and body burning, floating, drowning all at once in the pleasure, pain, and need to hear her beg for me to make her cum.

  “Fuck you,” she ground out, easily maneuvering from my grip to drag me by the makeshift collar to the bed. “I’ll beg you when you’ve earned it, and the five minutes of pounding my greedy pussy you just did is nowhere near enough.” Falling back against the soft bedding, I watched her undress, memorizing every curve and tattoo until only she filled my mind.

  “If you want it, Kittycat, then you work for it,” I taunted, wanting to see just how far she would go. If she wants to dominate me, then she has to fight me for it. Her brow raised in the sexiest sassy face I had ever seen before she crawled her sexy ass up to straddle me.

  She didn’t taunt or tease, instead sinking immediately onto me. I must have died and gone to hell because there had been nothing that had ever felt this sinfully amazing. My fingers brushed her inked thighs, her tits shifting as she rocked, circled, and bounced on my cock. Her sharp nails dug in once more, pushing me closer to the edge. When I finally thought I couldn’t handle waiting to make her cum, she folded over, her nipples and skin coated in the blood that had bubbled up from her clawing my chest, and said the magic words.

  “Please, my assassin.” Seizing the moment, I flipped us over, pounding into her until her screams shuddered, her flooded pussy gushing around my length. She came apart hard enough to break her moans into eager cries, and the sharpness of her nails digging once more into my chest had my emptying into her.

  We didn’t move, both collapsed in a heap of limbs, blood, sweat, and panting against her bedding. My kittycat, my mind whispered, pressing a trail of kisses across her chest and up her neck. Her vein erratically beat against my lips, her fingers trailing over my marred chest.

  “Time to get back to the killing, I suppose,” she murmured softly, the fire within her mossy eyes shifting from desire to the fight that would come when I resumed my hunt to kill her. Holding her in my arms, I k
new that would never happen. Somehow this woman, this little kittycat, has wholly claimed me. Now I just have to find out more about this violent, perfect woman.

  I would never let another lay a finger on her in harm.

  “Nah, Kittycat,” I reassured her. “You said I’m yours, why would I try to kill the woman who claimed me?” Her lips curled slightly.

  “So you really are mine now? I don’t even know your name,” she stated with a skeptical tone and narrowed eyes. I smiled, nodding vehemently.

  “My name is Chase Yarwood, but you probably know me better as Skill Shot, but yes. Forever and ever, Kittycat, I’m yours. Although, I could go for some food… or something for dessert,” I murmured against her skin as I rocked, my cock still buried inside her. Her moan was like music, and knowing I would get to hear it whenever I wanted made me the happiest assassin alive.

  My Kittycat.

  “You know what I could go for?” she murmured, the tips of her fingers barely brushing over my back.

  “What’s that?” I nuzzled her, her grease and berry essence mixing with the scent of our sex filling the room.

  “Pancakes. Want some?” I perked up, my stomach growling at the thought of food. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she chuckled, shoving me off of her.

  I laid on my back watching her flit around the room in her naked glory. My eyes trailed over her tattoos, memorizing each piece of art on her tanned skin. To my surprise and excitement, she stayed naked as she left the room. She glanced over her shoulder at me, pausing in the doorway to raise her brow. Getting off the bed, I shucked my ruined shirt and pants before following her down the stairs.

  "Do you want some help?" I questioned, looking shamelessly through cabinets and in the pantry. "Oh, can you wear this, Kittycat?" I nearly squealed as I pulled out the short girly apron from the hook on the back of the pantry door. I held it up with a big smile, my cock ticking to life at the thought of her naked body covered by only the thin scrap of fabric.

  "I suppose I can do that," she hummed with a saucy wink, tossing the strap over her head and turning away from me. "Tie me up?"

  "Any day, any where," I murmured, stepping up behind her so my cock could nestle against her ass, my fingers quickly tying the fabric straps. "You just tell me when, Kittycat."

  "I'll have to keep that in mind." She winked at me, strutting away. A groan rumbled deep within my chest as she started pulling ingredients and dishes from their homes and getting to work. Her tits bounced deliciously as she mixed the batter making me fully harden, my cock shifting as I stood up.

  "Can I have some dessert before breakfast?" I whispered, picking up a strawberry from the container and trailing the sweet fruit over her shoulder and up her neck until I reached her lips. Taking a bite, she looked at me, a trail of pink juice dripping down her chin that I licked up, locking my lips with hers. Soft moans barely audible against the sounds of her setting the pancake batter on the counter had me palming her breast with my free hand.

  Wrapping her fingers around my cock, she stroked lightly, teasingly slow in comparison to our last round of fun, making me groan. She tasted of strawberries, and the burst of bright flavor had me grabbing for another, one of the ones she had cut. Pulling away from her, I popped the fruit in my mouth, leaving half out for her to take all while my hands roved her tattooed skin down to her dripping pussy. She smirked, cupping the back of my head as she took her half of the fruit, our lips brushing as we chewed. Sweetness in taste, and sweetness coating my fingers, I thought before picking her up and bracing her up against the front of the fridge.

  I slid in easily, the soaking entrance of her pussy waiting and willing as I lined up. Her shuddering moans echoed off the hard surfaces of the kitchen, growing in intensity the faster I moved. The harder I fucked her, the more she clawed at my shoulders and back, the surely-bleeding welts only fueling me on as I drowned in the haze of lust. I had intended to take my time with her this round, but we were too explosive together, everything about her from the sounds she made to the way she marked me up urged me to take her hard and fast as though we were two blocks of C4 ready to blow.

  "Fuck!" she cried, her core tightening around me, her panting chest brushing mine erratically as she came apart in my arms. The scent of strawberry and sex was the final straw as I fused my lips to the side of her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark as I came deep within her. As we came down, I rocked slightly, revelling in the little gasps she made as my cock stroked her sensitive pussy.

  "Okay, Kittycat, you can finish making pancakes now," I murmured seductively in her ear as I held her captive against the fridge. "After that though, I plan on fucking you in every room of this house."

  "You'll have to catch me first, my little assassin," she challenged with equal heat, her luscious pink lips curling up. I couldn't stop my own matching smirk from spreading across my face.

  Challenged fucking accepted.

  POV 4

  Don’t Judge a Girl by Her Mom Jeans- Brooks & Stone

  April 19th

  Friday Morning

  Brooks

  (Rival- Chapter 1)

  “Boss, this is Kiera,” Nate introduced. The woman glanced at me with wide eyes and a confused expression, but the longer I stared the more I realized there was something else within those mossy depths. Before I could figure out what it was, she looked to Stone then continued her scan of the place. When her gaze landed on the floor, I had to hold back a chuckle at the grimace she couldn’t hide.

  “You want a drink?” I asked, waving at Cheryl who immediately poured several glasses of my favorite liquor. Kiera eyed the glass with thinned lips but took the offering anyway. Huh, didn’t expect that from someone who looked like she would rather be knitting than in a bar with a motorcycle gang. Sitting on the stool closest to me, I sipped my own drink, trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation, but the feeling of her eyes on me was growing distracting. “You got someone you can call?”

  She nodded, still not saying anything and pulled out her phone, flashing Stone another glance. Knowing him, he was standing behind me with crossed arms and a scowl trying to scare the poor woman.

  “I need you to grab my on-the-go bag,” she mumbled in response to whoever had answered. Her voice was husky with a throaty quality that I hadn’t expected would have my cock twitching just from its sound. After a short silence, her tanned cheeks flushed, and she refused to look anywhere but at her glass that she kept fiddling with. “I’m at the bar with Abby.”

  Her words made me pause, my drink only partially the way to my lips as I stared her down. How does who she’s talking with know which bar? She refused to rise to the bait despite my continued glare. I was just about to demand answers when a string of male curses echoed in the quiet bar. Yanking the phone away from her ear, Kiera looked unfazed by the shouting. Was the person she contacted going to cause problems? I thought, looking at her. She didn’t look like she had been hit or abused, but with her turtleneck and mom jeans it was hard to tell, and even then I knew it didn’t necessarily mean anything if I couldn’t see any marks.

  “He’ll be here shortly,” she murmured, taking a sip of her drink after hanging up on him. Well, maybe Granny here has a backbone after all. I continued to discreetly watch Kiera out of the corner of my eye, but she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary as we waited.

  “Warden?” Stone questioned, pulling my attention to the person walking into the bar. Wait… Garrett? I couldn’t stop the confused scrunch of my brows as I watched my vice president stride into the room. He was out for the day running some random errands… so why is he back now?

  “If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen. I need to have a discussion with my stepsister,” he seethed, glaring down at Kiera who slid off the stool. She looked contrite, but the way her fingers twitched and curled into a small fist had me wondering if my VP would be coming out of that little family meeting with a black eye.

  Interesting… very interesting.

  K
iera was not what she seemed, only I didn’t realize how different until later.

  Stone

  “He has a stepsister?” Brooks questioned with a raised brow, looking over his shoulder at me. “When the fuck did that happen?” I shrugged, both confused and on edge about an outsider being within the club.

  “How do we want to handle her?” I whispered, not wanting to draw Abby’s attention as she talked with Nate, knowing how she would respond. Loud and scarily because no one wanted to go up against Abby Talor when she was fired up.

  “You really think she’s going to cause trouble?” Brooks questioned with a small laugh. “That little girl who looks more harmless than my grandmother?”

  “Did you forget your grandmother was convicted and sentenced to death for being a serial killer, an Angel of Death?” I challenged, and much to my irritation, he just continued to smile and took a sip of his alcohol.

  “That’s why I said more harmless,” he countered after he finished his drink. “Besides, if Garrett and Abby hadn’t brought her around before, I doubt they’ll continue to do so.”

  “I guess,” I muttered, something about her rubbing me the wrong way, but her voice calling out cut off any response I was going to say.

  “I’m ready, Abby.” Her voice sickeningly sweet and grated on my nerves, but Garrett’s tone- low and warning- caught my attention. Job? What job? “It’s only some work at the law office,” she cooed back at Garrett. Outsider working at a law office?

  Definitely something to watch out for.

  April 21st

  Sunday Early Morning

  Brooks

  I stood at the bar, my eyes immediately darting to the door when a man I didn’t recognize entered.

  “Who are you?”I couldn’t disguise the hint of apprehension that laced my question. The man was tall with dirty blonde hair that was messily brushed away from his tanned forehead. His tan suede jacket swung back and forth oddly as he walked, his smirk immediately setting me on edge until Garrett spoke up.