by Alexx Andria
“I haven’t showered” my malfunctioning brain spit out in sheer nervousness, stammering, “I mean, I’m not eating-ready.”
His amused laugh caused me to smile shyly until he countered with a low, sexy growl, “Ahhh baby, you’re cute. Give me a taste of that sweet pussy” as he stripped his shirt and began popping his fly.
Good Lord, baby Jesus. Perfectly sculpted chest, tattoos carved into his skin. A dusting of hair on his pecs, narrowing down to his belly button and beyond.
What was that called...the happy trail?
I never truly understood that phrase until this very moment.
The eager jackhammer of my heart told me all I needed to know — I wouldn’t stop him.
Even though I should.
I hadn’t shaved my legs either.
What if I took my pants down and he thought he was looking at a wookie?
The scenario was enough to dash some cold water on my overheated hormones.
I managed to slip away from him, trying to be the voice of reason. “We should take a minute...”
“Why?” he asked, stalking me around the kitchen as I danced away from the green-eyed calling in his eyes. “We’re both adults.”
There was probably some kind of rule about screwing your kidnapper like a randy rabbit but did most kidnappers look like mine?
My gaze dipped to the vee of his hips, the saliva drying instantly as the corded muscle drew my stare straight down, as if directing traffic.
Ohhh, that was some crazy voodoo...
“I barely know you,” I blurted, trying to coat my words with some kind of indignity. As if I wouldn’t dream of doing the nasty with him simply because he was hot enough to cook an egg on those wonderfully sculpted pecs.
“I saved your life,” he put it bluntly. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I’m not paying for your services with my vagina,” I shot back, mildly affronted.
“Of course not,” he agreed with deceptive amenability but he was quicker than a rattlesnake strike, scooping me into his arms before I could stop him.
“OHMYGOD, what are you doing?” I screeched, clinging to his neck. “Put me down, before I kaleidoscope your spine!”
“You know what the first thing was that I wanted to do when you woke up?” he asked, carrying me to the bedroom. He didn’t wait for my answer as he dropped me to the bed. “Find a way to make you shut the fuck up.”
Before I could retort, he was there, on the bed, kissing me senseless again.
When his hands grabbed my wrists, pulling them above my head, I began to shake, the wetness gathering between my legs like a sex fountain.
What was wrong with me? Had I zero self-control?
Dex didn’t give me time to question before he was kissing my neck, biting, sucking, nibbling and sending riots of FUCK ME messages straight to my brain.
“D-dex...I....” have something to tell you first.... “I haven’t shaved my legs...in like a really long time!”
“It’s just hair, baby,” he said, dismissing my panic as he yanked my jeans free, feasting his gaze on my naked limbs, stopping where my panties covered my privates. “And what about here...” he murmured, his gaze glazed as he plucked my panties free, revealing my vagina.
“Damn girl. I like it,” he said, admiring my lady bits with open appreciation. “Dark, fluffy curls, just like nature intended,” he said.
Then I realized what he was saying. I didn’t shave or wax. I didn’t do any of that stuff. I mean, maybe if I’d known I was going to be kidnapped and ravished I would’ve put a little more effort into my grooming but...yeah, none of that had been on my schedule!
This was spiraling out of control. I wanted to cry. Not because I didn’t want to be with Dex, but because I never thought I would feel so unsexy when it happened with the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on.
I could only imagine what I probably looked like in his eyes — a gangly, hairy, muff-monster who smelled like a hippie straight from Woodstock.
In comparison, he was Adonis and I was...Medusa.
But there was more and this part was even harder to admit.
Only I could push away the potential of the most incredible sexual experience of my life out of anxiety of not measuring up.
“Wait,” I tried saying, shaking my head, trying to clear the sex haze obscuring my judgment. “Dex...I..”
He mistook my garbled statement for one of misgiving. Dex stared into my eyes, promising, “I’ll make you cum so hard you’ll forget about any cock you’ve had before mine.”
If only that were the problem!
I smothered the near-hysterical laughter at his boast.
“I’m sure you would,” I managed to get out, only barely. The thing was...it was hard to obliterate a memory that wasn’t there.
Remember the boring life I’d been living?
Yeah, well, that included dating.
I was...um, technically, well, you know...a virgin.
I doubted Dex would be so eager to plumb my pipes if he found out just how clueless I truly was in the sack.
And since I didn’t want to bear the label of being his “worst lay ever” I just said the first thing that came to mind as I wiggled my way out of his arms and onto the floor with a thump.
“I’m really not that into you.”
As lies went...mine was pretty damn stupid, especially when I’d just happily sucked his tongue down my throat, gurgling with joy as he’d felt me up but I’d never been good under pressure, so, it is what it is.
All he said was, “Jesus, Bree,” before climbing slowly from the bed to stalk from the room, his stride filled with pent up frustration.
This time, when Dex stormed out the front door, I was smart and didn’t stop him.
7
DEX
I wasn’t accustomed to being turned down.
In certain circles my reputation dropped panties willingly.
I was many things but I wasn’t a fucking rapist.
Killer, yes; rapist, no.
I drew the line somewhere.
Driving into the small upstate New York town, I ignored the quaint cuteness and pulled into the corner market.
I had dozens of hideouts dotting the states, small shacks buried in the middle of nowhere, loaded with supplies, and completely off the beaten track so as not to draw attention.
Money wasn’t an issue for me. I paid cash for everything. Left no trail.
Hell, I had enough to retire happily and comfortably but then what? I wasn’t the kind of guy who sipped mimosas by the beach, doing crossword puzzles in the shade.
I needed the action.
The adrenaline kept me sharp.
But it was more than that.
I wasn’t suited for anything else.
I’d long since come to grips with the fact that I would always live on the fringe of society.
And I was okay with it.
Bree was the fly in the ointment.
I grumbled, annoyed at my own stupid, circular thoughts. I’d never been overly deep or philosophical but suddenly questions I’d never cared to ask were cramming themselves down my throat.
It was Bree’s fault.
Speaking of...
Bree didn’t want to eat MRE’s.
I didn’t want her blowing up the toilet.
So, that meant I needed to find something else for her to eat.
I stalked into the store, still out of sorts, throwing odds and ends — basically anything that said ‘gluten-free’ and ‘organic’ on the packaging — into the cart before adding a six-pack of beer, too.
I’d definitely need to drink if I was going to survive any amount of time stuck with Bree.
The taste of her sweetness remained on my tongue. I’d always thought a short blonde felt best in my arms but Bree was neither and she’d nestled against me damn near perfectly.
I know she was into it, I thought to myself, replaying the events in my head. So why the brakes all of a sudd
en?
Sure, I was a bit rusty but my skills couldn’t have completely disappeared in the six months that I’d been without a woman.
Had I come off as some clumsy hick who couldn’t get the job done?
A pinch of insecurity — totally foreign and discomfiting — rode my ass all the way to the check out lane.
How had nerdy girl turned me down?
I hadn’t imagined the urgency as our mouths had devoured each other.
No. Bree was no actress. Everything she felt or thought rippled across her expression likes waves in a pond. She’d definitely been into it.
I paid with cash, ignoring the flirty looks the cashier was throwing my way like candy at a parade and climbed back into the truck.
Not into me.
Yeah, right.
Her pussy was so wet she was practically dripping through her jeans.
Fuck it, why did I care?
Bree wasn’t the kind of chick you banged hard and never spoke to again.
I didn’t like entanglements — attachments.
If you didn’t let people in, they couldn’t disappoint you.
Pretty simple rule.
And it’d worked for me up until this point. No sense in changing things up now.
I rarely skipped down Memory Lane for good reason but there was something about Bree that teased my brain.
I didn’t know her — it wasn’t like she was some remnant from my childhood — but, hell, I couldn’t tell you why there was something about Bree that had a grip on me. I just knew that it was rapidly becoming a bigger problem than I could’ve imagined.
My cell buzzed.
Checking the caller ID before I answered, I saw it was my broker within the network.
Jimmy exploding in my ear nearly had me hanging up almost immediately but I needed to talk to the asshole so I let him have his freak out.
“Are you trying to get us both killed? I just got your message and my first and only question is WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? You don’t get to take a job and then, change your fucking mind, you cocksucking idiot.”
“Calm your tits, Jimmy,” I said, too irritated to deal with Jimmy’s bullshit right now. “I’ll return the money. I’m pulling out.”
Jimmy’s short spat of hysterical laughter didn’t bode well.
“Oh, is that so? Well, sorry to burst your bubble but no can do, buddy,” Jimmy said and I could almost hear his jowls shaking. “You really ought to read the fine print before you take on a job.”
“What do you mean? What fine print?”
“You gotta finish the job or the job will finish you. No loose ends. You getting me? So just do the job already and be done with it. Jesus, Dex, how hard can one little nerd be to find and get rid of?”
I silently cursed my failure to do my own due diligence before accepting the job. I’d gotten lazy, overly confident.
Definite rook move. No time to beat myself up over that mistake.
“Who’s financing the job?” I asked irritably.
“What does it matter? As long as their wires go straight to your account and I get my cut, it don’t matter who’s signing the check.”
Under normal circumstances, Jimmy was right. I didn’t care about the ins and outs of a job.
But that wasn’t the case this time.
And I didn’t trust Jimmy to not double cross me if he found out that I had Bree with me.
Two bounties were better than one in Jimmy’s eyes.
I also knew that Jimmy wasn’t going to let this go without some persuasion.
“I want to know who wants the girl dead. I’m calling in my chip, Jimmy,” I said, reminding him of what he owed me. Jimmy had a gambling problem. When he owed a fat sum of money to a low-level loan shark, I made the problem go away.
With the understanding that one day, I’d call in a favor.
Well, today was that day.
A long pause followed before Jimmy asked, worried, “Fuck, Dex. You’re not going soft on me, are you?”
I didn’t for a minute think that Jimmy was worried for my welfare, but rather his meal ticket. Jimmy had expensive tastes and even pricier vices.
“Of course not,” I scoffed. “But something about this deals smells like shit and I want to know who’s funding this gig that way, if something goes south and they come for me...I know who I’m dealing with. My gut never lies, you know that, Jimmy.”
No arguing on that score.
“True enough,” Jimmy grumbled, admitting, “Yeah, now that you mention it, I did wonder who cared so much about one nobody photographer. Her pictures aren’t even that great, you know what I mean? We ain’t talking Ansel Adams, here.”
I smothered the immediate defensive growl that threatened to rumble from my chest on Bree’s behalf.
I thought her pictures were nice enough.
I’d seen worse in high-end galleries.
Besides the point. I pushed aside those thoughts to redirect. “I need a name by tomorrow, Jimmy.”
“Tomorrow? What am I, a magician? You know these things are delicate. Give me three days. Where you at?”
I wasn’t going to share my location. Like I said, I didn’t trust Jimmy with anything but his ability to find me jobs.
“Just call this number. I’ll answer.”
Me and Jimmy had a symbiotic relationship. He found the jobs; I made him a lot of money.
But we weren’t buddies by any stretch of the imagination.
Jimmy didn’t even know where I lived. We conducted our business through untraceable burner phones. We weren’t on each other’s Christmas list and that suited the both of us just fine.
“Tomorrow,” I reminded him as I clicked off, not giving Jimmy the chance to bluster his way into more time.
It was going to be hard enough to spend the night lying next to Bree without wanting to touch her, much less spend the next three days practically running into each other.
I could handle one night.
In fact, I’d probably just plan to sleep on the sofa.
It was safer that way.
8
BREE
I almost lost my virginity.
Ha! Lost is a funny way of putting it. More like threw it like a hot potato.
Dex was seriously hot. I mean, there was this way about him that stole my breath.
Made my knees weak and my panties wet.
Eww. How cliche.
I liked to pride myself on being anything but mainstream but my hormones were playing a wicked game of Let’s Procreate and Make Beautiful Babies! So much so, that it was a struggle to remember why it was a bad idea to lose my virginity to the man hired to kill me.
Yeah, let that sink in for a minute.
The. Man. Hired. To. Kill. You.
Right. Bad form.
Actually, Dex had the most amazing male form I’d ever seen.
Drool-worthy.
And I wasn’t typically a drooler when it came to men. I didn’t go bananas over hot firemen or body builders.
To be honest, too much muscle on a man made me nervous.
I preferred an intellectual man.
I think.
I chewed my lip as I searched my database for past attractions.
Let’s see, there was...Eddie — super smart, legs and arms like matchsticks, and a terrible complexion — but man, he’d had charisma off the charts.
He hadn’t liked me the way I’d liked him (story of my life) but he had kissed me once.
Then there was Miguel, also mega smart but quite possibly borderline on the spectrum because his social skills had been nearly as blunt as a plastic knife.
And that was about it.
Not a lot to choose from.
Neither of those guys had ever made me feel breathless.
Or wet.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the mere thought of how easily I turned into a sexual faucet around Dex.
Would it be so bad to lose my virginity to someone like Dex?
I
mean, aside from the obvious stigma of losing it to a man who killed people for a living, of course.
Let’s just put that point aside for a minute...
Sex with Dex.
I giggled at the silly rhyme but only to cover the nervousness rattling my spine.
But what if...he didn’t want to be with a virgin?
He was probably used to sleeping with women who swung around on stripper poles installed in their bedroom or swinging like a monkey in heat from a sex trapeze.
I could only imagine how disappointed he’d end up being with someone like me who’d never even watched much porn.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew the mechanics of sex (huge Game of Thrones fan) but I was a little hazy on the details.
Where was my G-spot? Would he know how to find it? What if I didn’t have one?
Wait, all women had a G-spot, right?
Maybe I was overthinking things. I knew how to give myself an orgasm and while I liked them well enough, the pleasant tingles that drifted across my nerve endings, leaving me relaxed and mildly sleepy, were hardly anything to go to war over.
Maybe I just wasn’t very sexual.
Even if I could talk myself into believing that theory, the evidence was pretty damning. With Dex, the wild feelings driving me were unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
And the way he looked at me — as if he were barely holding himself back from nailing me to the wall — I couldn’t lie, left me hot and aching.
What would happen if we went all the way?
Another nervous giggle.
All. The. Way.
The latent teenager in me — the one who never got to experience backseat gropes and passionate kisses behind the school bleachers — was itching to make up for lost time.
Wait.
Are you forgetting an important detail?
I frowned at the querulous tone in my brain.
Such as?
Whether or not Dex wanted to screw me or not, did not negate the fact that someone wanted me dead.
Oh, that. Talk about a mood-killer.
Dex was right in that if I didn’t find out who was after me, I was as good as buried because eventually they would catch up to me.
