by Eve Langlais
That day on the mountain, when Joel had dragged her to the top, she’d almost died. When he pushed her off that cliff, she’d thought for sure he would succeed, but a branch slowed her fall while stealing her robe. Then the plateau kept her from tumbling to certain death.
Joel had stood at the top and aimed his gun. She still had the scar from the searing bullet. She had nowhere to run.
Then a snowmobile came soaring over the edge, tipping down the steep embankment, almost crashing into her.
Jazzy had arrived to save the day.
But her sister wasn’t here this time. Off on some secret mission again.
There was no one to save Annique as Joel’s fingers dug into her throat, cutting off her air.
She grabbed at his wrists and pulled, the strength needed to free herself lacking. She scratched. She thrashed as black spots danced in front of her eyes.
Regret, not her past, flashed in her mind.
I wish I’d never run.
She should never have left Reaper that day on the mountain. Never climbed onto the back of that snowmobile.
Why didn’t I stay with him? She’d kept the necklace, refusing to give it up, even if it was a tie to her past.
She’d hidden it despite her sister’s sigh.
Now that very chain dug into her neck, imprinting onto her skin as the hands squeezed tighter.
Her vision dimmed.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
She thought she heard pounding. “Annie, let me in.”
Crashing and splintering.
There goes my deposit.
Then cursing. “Son of a bitch. I’ve fucking had it with you.”
Then she was gasping for air, pulling in painful breaths as two bodies grappled over her.
Reaper, big and beautiful, wrestled Joel. He wrapped his arms around the menace in her life and put him in a headlock, one Joel couldn’t escape from.
He then gave her a look and said, in a tight voice, “What do you want me to do?”
Giving her a choice?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we can call the cops and take the chance he gets out on bail, or I end this, right here, right now.”
Kill Joel?
“She won’t kill me. She’s weak. I’ll be back,” Joel managed to sputter, despite the hold on his neck.
“I am not weak.” She stood and faced the man who’d terrorized her for so long. “And I won’t let you do this to anyone else.” She met Reaper’s gaze. “Do it.”
The crack of a neck breaking wasn’t as loud as the movies made it out to be. The body hung limply in Reaper’s grasp.
Only for a moment. He dumped it on the floor and, a second later, swept her into his arms.
Only to hold her out from him a heartbeat later and shake her. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Okay, perhaps he shouldn’t be yelling at her. But when he’d realized she wasn’t dead, courtesy of a phone call from Jasmine saying, “Joel isn’t dead. Protect my sister,” he’d gone through several layers of emotion.
The first, anger. How fucking dare Annie let him think she’d died?
The second. Relief. She wasn’t dead.
The third, a cold fear when he realized she might die before he could reach her.
He held her away from him and noted her ashen expression, her wide eyes, her trembling lips.
The red marks on her neck that would blossom into some epic bruises.
She tried to speak; it emerged as a hoarse croak. “I’m sorry.”
His turn to reply. He’d prepared all kinds of diatribes during his frantic speeding to get to her in time.
He had planned to give her hell. To punish her for hurting him.
Now, faced with her, the relief washed away his anger and, in its place, aching need to hold her again.
“I missed you,” was his admission.
“Me too,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.
And with those two words, he didn’t care that she’d run. He forgot everything but how happy he was to see her again.
He opened his arms, and she launched herself at him. He caught her, his arms wrapping tightly around her.
I am never letting you go. Words obviously spoken aloud because she replied, “Okay.”
Then there were no words to say, just frantic kisses as he lifted and carried her to the bedroom, but they didn’t make it to a bed. He kissed her, his lips and tongue frantic with need.
His passion was returned. She clung to him, hands pulling at his shirt, her mouth sucking hungrily at his tongue.
At his age, he should have had more restraint, more finesse. But he’d found her again. His precious Annie, and he didn’t want to wait. He shoved at her yoga pants, pushing them down far enough that they slid the rest of the way and she could step out of them.
Apparently, she understood his need, felt it, too. Without being asked, she turned away from him and thrust out her ass, an invitation he couldn’t ignore.
He fumbled, clumsy in that moment as he tried to free himself from his damned pants.
Fuck wasting time completely pulling them off. She waggled her ass at him, and he lost his mind. He poked her with his erection, groaned as she pushed back, and spooned her ass against his groin.
“Now,” she said in a husky murmur.
Yes, now. He nudged her thighs apart as Annique braced her palms on the wall.
The invitation was there. But he still wanted to be sure she was ready for him. Reaper reached between her thighs and ran his fingers over her slick cleft.
So wet and hot for him. He grabbed hold of his shaft and nudged the head against her nether lips, spreading them and pushing into her. He sucked in a breath as he slid into her molten sheath, a firm, snug grip that had her moaning.
He pushed deeper until he was fully sheathed, her sex pulsing all around him. Then he began to move, thrusting his hard length in and out of her. Holding tightly to her hips so as not to lose his rhythm.
When she began to mewl and cry out in pleasure, he pounded faster, harder. Each stroke a deep thrust that hit her sweet spot and caused her to cry out as her breath quickened.
He was panting himself as he pumped her faster, and faster. He was close, so close, which was why he reached under her body and fingered her clit.
Her entire body tensed around him, and a hoarse cry was torn from her as her climax hit hard and fast. It drew his own pleasure.
He uttered his own harsh cry as he spilled his seed deeply inside her.
Slowly, their shudders eased. Their bodies cooled, and he slipped from her body with reluctance. He turned her so that he could hug her against him.
“I missed you,” he said. “Missed you so damned much.”
“Me too.”
He rubbed his face in her hair, inhaling her fragrance, enjoying the silken touch of it. “I don’t ever want to lose you again.”
“How about I promise to never leave as your Valentines Day’s gift,” she murmured, her voice husky.
Holy shit. It was Valentine’s Day, and he’d not brought a gift. He only had a sudden idea. “Marry me.”
She stiffened against him, and he could have groaned. Way to jump the gun.
But I’m getting too old to play games and wait.
She laughed and peppered him with kisses as she said, “Yes. Yes.” Over and over again.
To seal the deal, they made love again, and again until she fell asleep with a smile on her lips.
A smile I put there. He’d do his best to ensure she always wore a happy face.
Which meant taking care of business.
That night, while she slumbered, he disposed of the body they’d left lying in her living room. This time, Joel wouldn’t be coming back to haunt her.
Reaper didn’t have far to go. Annie had chosen to live on the East Coast, which made things so easy. Only a short drive to dump the corpse off a cliff.
The ocean washed the bo
dy away. The fish would dine on it before it surfaced to shore again, hiding any evidence of foul play.
Just another tourist dead in paradise.
When Reaper returned, he crawled into bed beside Annie. Without waking, she turned into him and snuggled.
She murmured, “I love you.”
So do I, Annie, until death do us part.
Epilogue
“This wedding will be the death of me,” Annique grumbled.
Despite her insistence that she would be happy with simple, Reaper had insisted on having a big wedding. In a church. With people.
“You do realize you might have to smile at them and be nice?” she observed as she swirled a finger through the hairs on his chest.
“I’m okay with smiling. Smiling will make them nervous.”
“Reaper!” She slapped his chest. “No freaking people out at the wedding.”
“But it will be fun. I want the world to see that you’re mine and off-limits.”
“That’s kind of possessive.”
“I know.”
“And hot.”
A lower rumble. “I know.”
She moved to sit astride him, her hair falling over her shoulder. It never ceased to amaze her that this man had chosen her. “When were you going to tell me our wedding is part of a sting operation?”
“Who’s the tattletale?” he growled.
“Who do you think?”
“I’m going to kill your sister.”
“Don’t you dare,” she warned. “And why am I hearing it from her?”
“I was going to tell you, along with the news that this operation to draw out the enemy targeting the academies is also being bankrolled by the company.”
“You mean our wedding is being paid in full?”
“Fucking right.”
Her turn to grin. “In that case, I’d better get dress shopping.” Because she wanted to look amazing for her perfect match.
Her deadly lover deserved nothing but the best because, I love him. And she might just kill anyone who got in her way.
The wedding invitation arrived in a cream-colored envelope and stated
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Reaper and Annique.
There was a coded location, date, and time. This invitation was for special people only.
I’m special. And deadly.
An X was scrawled under Attending. But the plus one was left blank.
Who did one bring to an assassin’s wedding? Death came to mind.
Are you ready for Darren’s story? Hitman Wedding.
For more Eve Langlais books see www.EveLanglais.com
For more contemporary bad boy romance see my new alter ego, Suzanne E. Lang at http://suzannelangromance.com/
