Lace and Bullets: A Hitman Romance

by Marie Carnay

  Jessica let out a keening moan and Tate grumbled his reply, sliding up to find her clit. Rolling his tongue across it, he sent bursts of ecstasy shooting through her.

  Again and again he flicked the hard little nub, working her into a frenzy. She panted and gasped and bucked her hips into his mouth, pulling against the bindings on her ankles and wrists, loving the feel of the cord bumping over her skin.

  As the beginnings of an orgasm grew in her core, he pulled back, leaving her clit throbbing and needy. She wailed in protest, but before she could speak, he crushed his lips into hers. Thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, he forced her to taste how hot he made her. God, he must be soaked.

  He broke their kiss and left her, mouth open, tongue licking air as he bent to suckle her breast. Pleasure sparked through her again and she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

  * * *

  God, damn. She was everything he’d ever wanted. Every woman he’d ever created in his own mind. Her body opened up to him as soon as he took away her sight. And when he tied her up in knots, she soared.

  Her pussy trembled between her legs and he could feel the vibrations of her needy little snatch as it begged for him to fill her up. But he wasn’t giving in. Not yet. He wanted her body to sing.

  Lapping at her nipple, he pulled the tight little bud into his mouth, suckling and nipping and rolling it around his tongue. Jessica panted above him, squirming against his onslaught and humming in need.

  Tate couldn’t deny that she was beautiful—she was a fitness model for god sakes. But seeing her tied up and submitting—begging for him to own her with his touch—fucking unbelievable. He wanted to take her picture in a dirty little photo shoot. Show her who she really was. Who he made her become.

  Letting go of her breast, he worked his way to the other side, laving her nipple and drawing sweet little mewls from deep within her. Her legs strained against the bindings and she licked her lips over and over. She was desperate.

  He leaned back and smiled. “Are you ready to come for me?”

  She groaned in response, hanging her head and exhaling in a rush. “Oh, Tate. Yes. Please.”

  “Good. Then come for me, Jess. Come for me now.” He bent down and latched onto her clit, sucking it into his mouth as he thrust a finger inside her empty channel. As he curled his finger inside her, she came. Twisting into a vise, her muscles clamped down around him while her soul flew apart.

  Her mouth opened in a soundless scream and he rolled his tongue over her clit, prolonging the ecstasy and driving her higher. After what seemed like forever, she collapsed, slumping on top of him and shaking.

  He kissed her knee and she moaned, too exhausted to pull away. With a smile, he bent to her bindings, untying first one leg and then another. When they slipped free, he placed his arms beneath her and lifted her up, sliding onto the bed with her, and nestling her body into his.

  She fell onto the pillow, auburn hair matted and soaked in sweat, lips swollen and red, cheeks vibrant pink and glowing. He ran his hands down her bound arms and she shivered. Undoing one knot at a time, he set her arms free. Rings of indentations marred her skin—temporary reminders of what they’d just shared.

  She snuggled into him and he tugged the blindfold free. “Hi, Jessica.”

  “Mmm. Tate. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She scooted lower and her ass grazed his dick. It jumped against her skin—rock hard and throbbing—and he winced out loud.

  In languid slow-motion, she rolled over and fluttered open her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you. You didn’t have to…”

  He shushed her and shook his head. “I wanted to.”

  “Then let me thank you. Please?”

  “Okay.”

  Jessica pushed herself up and scooted down the bed, straddling his legs as she climbed over him. She took his cock in her hand, running over the thick length of it as she looked up and bit her lip. “Do you want to use…something? It’s okay if you do.”

  He smiled and reached out to stroke her knee. “No, babe. I just want to watch you. Do whatever feels right.”

  She smiled back before opening her mouth and taking him inside. Oh, fuck. She slid down fast, saliva leaking out of the corners of her mouth as she took him deep. His head bumped the back of her throat and she pulled back, slicking his shaft before stroking him with her hand.

  Up and down she bobbed, using her hand to caress the places her mouth couldn’t reach, teasing him with a swipe of her tongue around his ridge. In no time, she’d worked him into overdrive, his cock hardening inside her mouth as the inevitability of his release overwhelmed him.

  He came on a groan, pumping his hips up into her mouth, sliding his dick deep as the first shots of cum rocketed past her tongue and straight down her throat. Over and over he came, filling up her mouth, forcing swallow after swallow until she’d milked him dry.

  When at last he’d finished, she pulled off him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He pulled her down on top of him with a satisfied sigh, kissing her lips and tasting his salty release all over her.

  “It’s my turn to thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Rolling onto his side, he pulled her body close, pinning her back tight to his chest. He never wanted to let her go. And if he had his way, he never would.

  * * *

  The phone rang out of nowhere, jolting Jessica awake as she stumbled out of bed and into the living room. Fishing through her things, she found it and answered the call.

  “H-hello?”

  “Ms. Mallory?”

  “Yes. This is Jessica Mallory.”

  “Hello, this is Ms. Jenkins from Total Fitness.”

  Jessica tried to focus, rubbing her eyes as she searched her brain. Ms. Jenkins… “Talent search?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, I am calling about some negative publicity we received in the press last night and this morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, something like this is damaging to the magazine’s image. As a result, and in an effort to distance the magazine from any fallout, we are canceling the shoot you’re currently in. Due to the terms you agreed upon, you would only be paid and/or featured in the magazine based on a completed shoot.”

  “So…are you telling me I won’t get paid and won’t get the spread?”

  “Yes. Thank you for your time. I wish you luck in your future endeavors.”

  The phone called ended and Jessica stared at the blank screen. What the hell?

  Did she do something inappropriate? Was there some issue with the club last night? All she could think about was Tate punching out that guy in the middle of the club. Could they have found out about that already?

  She shook her head and hopped on the web, searching for anything to do with her or her stepbrother. It didn’t take long. Oh my god.

  Photo after photo of the pair of them—Tate’s arms wrapped around her in the booth, him whispering in her ear as he mixed—lit up the website. She’d never heard of Miami Heat before, but from first glance, it looked like a gossip rag. She scrolled past the headline—Knock Out?—and all the pics to read the few lines of text.

  Looks like DJ T found himself a new woman at Blur last night. And used his fists to prove it. According to our sources, he punched out a patron who tried to dance with her, then dragged the leggy beauty up into his booth for the rest of the set. Who is the lucky lady? Rumor has it she’s an up and coming model. Guess the girls still go for that macho routine, huh?

  Her hand shook and she bit her cheek to keep from crying. Why would they even be news? She wasn’t a celebrity and Tate never boasted about any sort of fame. It was ridiculous. And this was why the shoot was canceled?

  She glanced up and looked at his body sprawled out and snoring in bed. The only man who’d brought her to life in the bedroom. The only man who made her come so hard she thought she’d died. He’d defended
her, protected her, shown her a glimpse of heaven. And opened her eyes to the possibility of more. Of love.

  But if just being together in the club brought that kind of bad publicity and threatened her career, what would happen if people found out they were step-siblings? It would ruin them both.

  She ran her tongue over parched lips and closed her eyes. She couldn’t hurt Tate’s reputation. DJing was his life. Taking it away from him wouldn’t be fair. And she’d worked too hard to walk away from modeling.

  A tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away, stooping to pick up her bag and shove her things inside. Tate would understand. He would have to. She scrawled a note on a stray piece of paper and called a cab. With a last look into his bedroom, Jessica took a deep breath and ran.

  5

  Tate rolled over and flung his arm out, searching for Jessica’s warm body to snuggle against. But he came up empty. He reached further, pawing at the cold sheets until he hit the end of the bed. Where is she? “Jess, baby, you in the shower?”

  When she didn’t answer, he sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Images of last night—bound arms and legs, flush skin, moaning lips—filled his brain and he smiled. It’d been the best night of his life. And he couldn’t wait to see where their new relationship would go.

  Tugging on a pair of boxers, he stumbled out of his room and peeked into the bathroom. No sign of her. Shaking his head, he made his way into the living room and looked around. Her stuff was gone. No bag, no pile of laundry, nothing.

  Did she have an early shoot? He swore she said they all started in the afternoon. Glancing at the coffee table, a lone piece of paper caught his eye. It perched on the wood, folded in half with his name scrawled across the front.

  A shock wave tore through him. No. Nonononono. Snatching it, he unfolded the note and began to read.

  Tate—

  I am so sorry. You were right. We can’t be together. No matter how much I want you and no matter how amazing you make me feel. No one will understand.

  My shoot was canceled and that’ll only be the beginning. The bad publicity will ruin both our careers. I hope you find someone better for you. Someone you can love without guilt or shame. I’ll never forget last night—it was the best night of my life.

  I’m sorry love isn’t enough.

  —Jess

  Crumpling the paper into a ball, Tate stalked back into his bedroom. He didn’t get it. She’d been the one begging to take it to the next level and he’d been the one resisting. She’d chased him down at the club, flaunting her body, hoping he’d give in and give her what she wanted. Why now, after all they’d shared, did she run away?

  It didn’t make any sense. Part of him wanted to hunt her down—confront her and demand answers. But if she’d already said goodbye, would it make any difference? Something changed her mind. Something big.

  Uncurling his fingers, he looked down and the wadded up paper. Pulling it apart, he smoothed it into a legible mess and read it again. Her shoot was canceled. Because of them? How would anyone even know?

  He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He picked it up and read the text.

  It was from the owner of Blur. “Yo, man. You’re famous. Thanks for the free publicity. It’s gonna be a packed house tonight. Any chance you can DJ?”

  Tate frowned and clicked on the link. A Miami gossip rag website filled his phone—with pictures of him and Jessica all over it. He read the article and a wave of nausea threatened to send him to the bathroom. Now he understood.

  She was afraid. Afraid the news of them together would ruin her modeling and his gig. And if it had already caused her shoot to be canceled without anyone knowing the complete truth…Then she was right.

  He wished she’d never shown up that night. Never come into the club and run into that asshole. Then there’d have been no news, no story. They could be together. Even if it had to stay secret. He’d do it for her.

  The DJ job meant nothing compared to Jessica. She’d opened herself up to him. Bared her fucking soul to his hands and lips. And he’d fallen. Hard.

  She might not know it, but there’d never be another woman he wanted so much. Loved. Fuck the guilt and shame. He didn’t feel any of it. Not anymore. He’d be a damn bag boy at the grocery store if it meant being with her. But…her career?

  A shooting stab of pain arced through him as he thought about it. She’d just caught a break with her first national spread and had a chance to make something of herself. He couldn’t ask her to give up that dream for him. No matter how much his heart wanted her to. He didn’t deserve it.

  With a groan, he pulled himself off the bed and tugged on a t-shirt. He needed a distraction from the ache burning inside him before it consumed him.

  * * *

  Jessica trudged into the kitchen and plopped herself down on a barstool. She’d made the right decision—leaving Tate before he could claim any more of her heart—but it sucked all the same. A gnawing emptiness tore at her insides as she propped herself up on her elbow. She never knew a few days of heaven could leave her so empty and raw.

  “Okay. Spill it. You’re obviously grieving and it can’t be just the shoot. What’s going on? Did some boy break your heart?”

  Jessica’s mother pushed a steaming cup of coffee across the counter and she took it, wrapping her fingers around the warmth to feel something. Anything other than loss.

  “It was my big break, Mom. A spread in a national magazine. With Malcolm Donovan, the photographer. He’s famous.”

  “I’m sure, but so are lots of other photographers, honey. That can’t be what’s gotten you so upset. You look like someone killed your cat. Or broke your heart.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Yes you do. You’re just being stubborn. No good ever comes from wallowing in self-pity. So talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

  “You won’t understand.” Jessica took a sip of coffee and focused on the grain running through the granite counter. If she stared hard enough, she could make out the flecks of gold buried inside.

  “It’s Tate isn’t it?”

  Jessica snapped her head up, squinting at her mother across the kitchen. “It’s none of your business.”

  Her mom gave her one of those ‘oh, honey,’ smiles and stepped close enough to pat the back of her hand. “I’ve been telling your stepfather for years that the two of you would be good together.”

  Jessica tried not to let the shock show on her face. “You wouldn’t care if Tate and I dated?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because we’re step-siblings. Hello?”

  Her mom laughed and shook her head. “So? It’s not like you’re family. Not really. Tate was a legal adult when I married his father. And he has a mother already. A family has nothing to do with what’s written on paper. It’s how you treat each other.”

  “It’s wrong.”

  “Is it really?”

  “How can you even ask that?”

  “Think about it this way. Aunt Sylvie’s not your real Aunt. She was our neighbor when you were little. But you still think of her as your Aunt, right?”

  “That’s not helping, Mom.”

  “Just give me a minute. But what about Harold? He’s your father’s brother—your blood uncle—and you don’t consider him family, do you?”

  “No!” Jessica leaned back and gawked at her mother. “He’s an asshole. The way he treated you when you left Dad—it was disgusting.”

  “My point exactly. Family is what we make of it, Jessica. What’s on paper has nothing to do with it.” She poured herself a new cup of coffee and took a sip. “If you love Tate and want to be with him, then do it. Your stepfather and I won’t stand in the way.”

  “You’re sure Dave feels that way too?”

  Her mom paused and gave her a grin. “He’ll come around. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Jessica ran her fingers over the rim of her mug and frowned at her m
other. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway because it’s over. I ended it.”

  Her mother sighed and set her mug on the counter. “I figured something like that had to happen. Why? Were you worried about us finding out?”

  “In part. But I’m more worried about Tate’s job.”

  “Why?”

  “I went to his gig. We…um…danced and stuff. He might have punched a guy out because of me.”

  “Jessica!”

  “I know, it was stupid. But the worst part? Some sleazy gossip magazine took photos of us and plastered them all over its website. That’s what ended the shoot.”

  “Did they know who you were?”

  “No. But what about next time?”

  Her mother frowned but didn’t say anything. She could tell she was holding her tongue. “What is it? What aren’t you saying?”

  “Well, I just—I wonder when you started caring so much about what other people think of you. I thought I raised you to let negativity go. There’s always going to be someone out to put you down.”

  Jessica took a sip of coffee and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess modeling’s made me more concerned about my image.”

  “Then maybe you need to rethink modeling as a career. Do you want to be a slave to random internet magazines? Always watching what you say and do for fear it might give you bad press?”

  “I want to be a model.”

  Her mother raised an eyebrow and dumped the rest of her coffee in the sink. “Well, then I guess you’ve made your decision. It’s a shame, though. Because you could do a hell of a lot worse than a gorgeous man who cares enough about you to risk his job defending you.”

  Jessica blushed and looked away.

  “It sounds like Tate risked everything he had for you. And you got scared and ran.”

  “It’s better this way.”

  “It doesn’t look like it to me. But it’s your decision.” Her mom walked out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. “Rinse your cup when you’re done, sweetie. I’m going up to take a shower.”