Hitman's Promise: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

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Hitman's Promise: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Page 7

by Naomi West


  But then, she goes very still. Her energy has completely changed. Like the cold water shocked her back into reality. She stops clamboring against me. She stops making noise. She’s just numb, dead weight in my arms.

  The water is warming up now. So I put her down and lift her chin up. I want to see her eyes. She looks at me and what I see chills me. She’s closed off. Somewhere else. The satisfied, trusting look she was giving me earlier is nowhere to be seen. She doesn’t back away from me, but she may as well have. The night must be catching up to her. The adrenaline is wearing off. Now she’s realizing who she’s with. And what she did with him.

  Well, fuck that.

  I harden my grip on her chin and her eyes are flinging back to mine again.

  “On your knees,” I growl.

  Her eyes narrow, then heat. She pauses, a second longer than I’d like her to, but she does it. She goes down to her knees in front of me, the warm shower water swirling around her.

  I reach down and brush the wet hair out of her eyes, making sure she’s looking at me. “This is not the time for calculating and doubting, Row. You’re not to pick apart what’s just happened or try to figure out what to do next,” I tell her as I lace my fingers through her hair.

  Her mouth comes open slightly and I can tell this is turning her on. Getting directions from me while she kneels in front me, my naked cock just inches from her face. Her eyes glance at it and then back up to my face. Blood pumps through my body, pooling in my stiff, heavy cock.

  “Right now, all you need to think about is that you’re gonna get your hair washed. And then you’re gonna get fucked in the shower.”

  Now she’s panting and her legs are spreading apart underneath her. Her hand twitches where it rests on her thigh and it gives me an idea.

  “Why don’t you take that hand and show me your pretty little pussy,” I say.

  Her eyes flare and she immediately drops her hand to herself, parting her lips with two fingers. I have pretty much the most incredible view ever. Her big green eyes, dark with lust, her parted mouth, panting for me. Then down to her perfect little breasts, pink and standing right up. The water sluices down her stomach, giving me the perfect view of her pussy. The most gorgeous raspberry color I’ve ever seen. My mouth waters.

  She pauses there, parting herself for me. Not going any further until I give her the next instruction. This pleases me. This makes me want to reward her over and over again.

  “Are you wet for me, Row?” My voice is a low husk, barely audible over the sound of the shower.

  One finger disappears into her pussy and she immediately nods. “Yes.”

  I reach up on the shelf for the shampoo and put some into my hands. “Show me how you get yourself off,” I say to her and start massaging the shampoo into her scalp.

  Her thumb slowly circles her clit while two fingers dip inside herself and back out. Inside and back out. This is why I love women. A man sees a pussy and he just wants to devour it. Swallow it whole. Plunge into softness. But women, they’re so much gentler.

  Her hips start to rise and fall against her hand, but still it’s soft on soft as she starts to make little gasping noises.

  I’m thorough, working the shampoo through to the ends of her hair. And when I lean forward, my fully erect cock strokes against her cheek. Row’s eyes flutter open and then go impossibly dark when she sees what’s right in front of her. Her hands starts to work faster against herself as she lets out another gasp. This time, she keeps her mouth open for just a second, and I feel her tongue, feather soft, on the tip of my cock.

  My hands tighten, for just a second, in her hair before I loosen them. But then she does it again. And this time her lips close around the head. I know that if she does that one more time, I’m a goner. She’s a goner. We’re all gone. Over the cliff’s edge of my sanity. So I wrap my fist into her hair and pull her off my dick.

  Her eyes flutter up to mine but I leave my face calm, neutral, as I tip her head back into the water flow. I’m careful to keep the soap out of her eyes as I rinse her hair clean. My fingers are soft and everywhere over her scalp and it isn’t long before she’s moaning, not because of her hand between her legs, but because of my hands on her head.

  And then she’s clean. And my patience is up. She squeaks when I yank her up to her feet, her hands fluttering automatically to my shoulders. I grab her by the backs of her legs and hoist her up around my waist. One arm anchors her around her hips and the other hand I slam against the shower wall, steadying us.

  “Condom,” I grit out through my teeth. “On the sink.”

  She pulls back the shower curtain and reaches over for it, ripping it and twisting around to put it on me behind her back. I’m actually pretty impressed. But then, there’s no time to think any more. Because she turns back to me and lowers herself, gently, over just the head of my cock. The feeling is so incredible I clamp down my entire body against it. But that’s not how this goes.

  I tighten my grip on her and slam her down on me, making her take me all at once. We both groan. She’s the slick hot heaven I never knew existed. Her breasts are crushed against me, her legs are like a vice around my hips. Her fingers grip my back so hard I know she’s bruising me. Everything balances on the edge of pain and ecstasy. It’s the best I’ve ever felt in my life.

  I lift her up with my arm around her waist and slam her back down again. This time she outright screams and I hope the walls are thick enough. Or else our neighbors are gonna think she’s getting murdered in here. But I don’t care. I want to make her do that again. So I swivel my hips and slam her back down again.

  This time, she’s gotten the rhythm, so she clamps her legs even harder around my waist and lifts herself up on me. This time, when I bring my hips up, she brings hers down and there’s an explosive friction.

  “Oh, god. Kennedy,” she moans, her head falling back, her eyes wide and unseeing.

  “That’s right,” I growl in her ear. “Take it.”

  I punctuate my statement with a particularly punishing thrust and her body goes tight, tensing in pleasure.

  “Yes, please. More. More.” She’s moaning and no longer riding me. She’s tipped her pelvis toward me and is just taking and taking everything I’m giving her. Which is every inch of my cock. Over and over again.

  I stroke her hard again and this time her mouth comes open on another scream and one of her hands darts out, looking for purchase on something solid. She grabs the shower curtain and rips it right off the runner. She tosses it aside and glares at me, fire and lust in her eyes.

  “I need,” she moans. “I need.”

  I tip her back and thrum my thumb over her clit, still bracing her with my other hand around her waist. She needs to come. I can feel it vibrating through her in every way.

  “I need,” she moans again.

  “Tell me,” I command her and her eyes instantly fly open on the command.

  “You,” she whispers.

  And I’m gone. All humanity flies out the window. If I was a human, it was in another life. Another world. I’ve got this woman here, wet hot pussy wrapped around my cock. Moaning about how much she needs me. The world is a rushing wind around me. I wouldn’t remember my own name if she asked me. I grip her even harder, with both hands this time, and we’re stumbling out of the shower. The seconds blur and I’m carrying her, cock still buried inside her, across the bathroom floor and out to the main room. I pull her up off my cock, even though it makes me want to shoot myself in the foot for it. I toss her backwards on the bed and she lands with a soft bounce.

  “On your knees,” I tell her for the second time that night.

  She instantly scrambles up onto her knees, her hair a dark red slick down her back, water droplets flinging everywhere.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Beg me for it,” I say.

  Her eyes heat up so hot they smoke. She likes this idea.

  “Please, Kennedy. Please.”

  Whether she knows it or not,
she’s working her hips up and down on the bed, in the exact rhythm that she wants me to give it to her.

  “That was so pretty,” I say. “Let me hear it again.”

  “Please, Kennedy. Please fuck me. I need y-”

  But before the words are even the rest of the way out of her mouth, I’ve bowled her over, pushed her over backwards and pinned her to the mattress. And then I’m inside her, thrusting like a madman. She screams again, her fingernails ripping into my back. And she’s tensing and clamping down and screaming my name and God’s name and every curse under the sun as her pussy squeezes the life out of my cock.

  But I’m not done yet, I’m still slamming into her, my feet gripping for purchase as the bed starts to inch across the floor with each thrust. Thrusts so hard I know she’s gonna walk funny tomorrow. But she just grips me back. Just as hard, her hands leaving bruises on my shoulders. Her mouth, hot and angry, on mine. She’s everywhere on me. Her legs twisting around my hips. Her hands on my hair, my back, my neck, my ass. And her smell fills the air around me. Even fresh from the shower her smell is everywhere, like wind and pussy and something just so her.

  And then she tenses again. And I can’t hold on any longer. Her pussy grabs me like a fist and I come and come and come. Like it’s my job. Like it’s my last day on earth. My last meal. Like I’m a soldier headed off to war. I’ve never come so hard in my entire life.

  And even when I’m done, when I’m softening inside her, I’m still thrusting. Like I can’t stop. Like I have to be closer to her. But she’s limp as a sheet in the breeze underneath me. Her arms are flat against the bed, her eyes are closed, her hair is spread in a fan under her. She’s utterly exhausted.

  I plant a nipping kiss on her neck and pull out of her. I swoop her up off the bed and carry her back into the bathroom. I step over the fallen shower curtain and back into the shower with her, since it’s still going.

  “We’re wasting water,” she mumbles up to me and it makes me grin.

  “You’re such a dork,” I tell her, nipping her neck again.

  “Your grandchildren will thank me,” she says, perking up a little over the prospect of an argument over the wasting of the earth’s resources.

  “Can you stand?” I ask her, wanting to get her washed up.

  “Of course,” she says, but when I stand her up, her knees buckle a tiny bit. She grips my shoulders and ignores my cocky grin.

  I know she can’t handle much more tonight. In fact, she’s about to crash completely. So my movements are strictly utilitarian as I drag the bar soap all over her body and then mine. I don’t particularly want to wash the pussy off of me, but she’s right about wasting water. And this will save me one in the morning.

  In no time at all, I’m lifting her out of the shower and toweling her off. I’m not really sure what the hell to do with a girl’s hair, but she takes the question out of my hands when she takes the towel from me and gently squeezes her hair with it.

  I don’t want to put her back in her dress, no one likes sleeping with their clothes from the day on. I must have something she can wear. So, I slap some toothpaste on my toothbrush and pop it into her mouth. If she thinks that’s gross, well that’s her problem. I just had my tongue in her pussy this side of two hours ago, so she’s gonna have to get over it. But besides a surprised little widening of her eyes, her expression doesn’t change and she starts brushing.

  I go to my small backpack that I carry with me and rummage through it for a spare t-shirt. I grab a random blue one and come back into the bathroom. She spits out the toothpaste and wipes her mouth, obediently holding still while I slide the shirt on over her head and pull her arms through the holes.

  And then it’s bed for her. I pick her up again, carry her to the bed and slide her under the covers. She’s exhausted, but she still watches me with eyes that take in everything. She misses nothing. Maybe it’s her training as an archaeologist. Maybe it’s just who she is.

  I fill up a glass of water and put it on the bed beside her. I think of the things I still have to do tonight. But she needs to sleep. And something tells me that she’s not going to unless I’m sleeping too. So I toss my towel aside and climb in next to her. She stays where she is on her side of the bed and a hot streak of irritation races through me. I loop her waist and drag her over to me. She nestles her head onto my shoulder and the irritation eases. Running a hand along her back, I hate the feel of the shirt in between our skin. But she needs the shield tonight. I know this. Being able to feel comfortable after something like what we’ve shared tonight is extremely important. So I put everything aside and band an arm around her waist. Holding her until her breaths go even.

  Chapter Nine

  Row

  The light is a dim orange and I have no idea where I am. I shift in the bed and remember. Oh yeah, the hotel in Greece. But then my breasts rub against cotton and I look down in confusion. I don’t sleep in t shirts. Or in anything. So why am I…

  I remember everything all at once, like a piano falling on my head from 30 stories up. I fall back on the bed. Julius fucking Caesar. What the fuck. I press my legs together against the wetness that automatically floods along with memories. That was seriously hot. And it will get me nowhere to deny it. This situation is fucked up. But the sex sure wasn’t. No, that was just what the doctor ordered.

  I stretch a little, trying to make out the clock in the corner when I hear Kennedy’s-it feels good to finally know his name-voice coming from outside. He must be on the phone. I freeze, straining to make out the words.

  “Look, he keeps eyes on them. So you have to do it discreetly. He’s gonna make inferences, probably some accurate ones, if he knows Mom and Mara are being relocated to a safe house.”

  Interesting.

  My mind whirls a mile a minute, making some inferences myself.

  “You know what, Dare? Yell at me all you want when my mother and sister are out of harm’s way. Working with Esposito was my choice. And now I’m making a different choice. And I’m not about to let that new choice turn Mom and Mara into collateral damage.”

  He pauses.

  “About 15 hours before I have to check in with him. But if you need more time than that, you’ll have to let me know before. The longer I have to jerk him around, the greater chance that he sends in someone else after me to clean up. And I can deal with these dipshit small town drug dealers, but I really don’t want to deal with another hit man.”

  My brain shorts out for a second as my heart races. Another hit man. So that means that he’s a hit man as well. I’d been fooling myself into thinking he was just a skip tracer. I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. But on the other hand, he’s making arrangements to get his mother and his sister away from Esposito. So that must mean he’s planning to betray him? Holy cow. Ok.

  I can barely catch my breath. Maybe he’s not going to take us to Esposito after all? My heart plummets to my toes. Or maybe he’s just not going to take me to Esposito, and he doesn’t care what happens to my father. If my father has any hope of not getting murdered by Esposito, it’s only if he gets his way and I’m there too. I resolutely make up my mind in that second. I don’t care what Kennedy is cooking up in his head. If he takes my father to Esposito, he’s taking me too.

  I hear him say goodbye on the phone and then door unlocks from the outside. I slam my eyes closed and make my breaths deep and even, hoping I look like I’m deep in sleep. He pauses next to the bed and I’m worried he’s not buying it, until he just brushes the hair back from my shoulder. I hear him kick off shoes and then clothes hit the ground. The covers behind me are lifted and his weight depresses the bed. He slides neatly into my back, clicks in like a puzzle piece. The cool night air still clings in an aura around him, but it feels nice, refreshing. His hand comes under the t shirt. To my belly, and then upwards, to my breast.

  I can feel his thick erection pulsing against my ass. But he doesn’t do anything else beyond that. His hand stays still on my b
reast. And soon his breaths become even. I can feel his heartbeat against my back. My worries circle my head but soon, even they fall away as I drift into sleep.

  ***

  I wake up the next morning with the sun streaming through the cracks in the blinds. The first thing I think is, God I could use an egg sandwich and a cup of coffee. The second thing I think is, Holy Adonis.

  Kennedy is laid out next to me, the sheet pooled around his hips, his chest bare. Though he’s not bulky, the man is seriously built. Dangerous. The slanting sunlight shades the dips and valleys of his muscles. One hand is over his head, gripping the pillow and his face is turned to one side. His hair is rumpled, almost blonde in the morning sun. He looks… boyish. And it alarms me. Last night he was completely dominant. A ruler. Simply someone to be heeded at all costs. This morning he seems so young. Someone so lovable.

 

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