Hitman Wedding: A Bad Boy Inc Story

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Hitman Wedding: A Bad Boy Inc Story Page 13

by Eve Langlais


  Chapter Sixteen

  The morning had a surreal feel to it. On the one hand—which rested quite comfortably on her boob—being with Fran/Marina, her limbs wrapped around him, was like a familiar sweater, the kind that knew how to make your world comfortable and right. At the same time, having her beside him, naked, her skin as soft as he remembered, caused a tense excitement. This wasn’t the same woman he used to know. Forget soft and docile, this female was ferocious.

  The secrets between them had unraveled. He saw her now for the first time, and she saw him. If he were to be honest, he would admit that he’d also hidden his true self from Fran. The Darren that Fran had dated for those few weeks was a suit-wearing businessman. He carried around a laptop. Had a personal manservant named Marcus. He’d neglected to mention at the time that Marcus had more duties than picking up his laundry and taking messages.

  At no time did he find himself tempted to admit to Fran that he ran an academy for misfits he turned into elite soldiers for hire. The Fran he’d fucked in Paris what seemed like a lifetime ago would have gasped and run from the violence he essentially condoned every single day.

  Marina, on the other hand, embraced his lifestyle. There would be no judgment from her. Violence and firm methods for getting the job done wouldn’t shock or frighten her. Hell, given her fearlessness, Marina would probably want to be a part of the mayhem. She was utterly nuts. Beautiful. The perfect partner for a man like him who ran in interesting circles.

  She was also a perfect liar. He saw how good she was when he returned from getting them breakfast.

  “Did you miss me while I was gone?” he asked and watched her face.

  She wore the remnants of his dress shirt, the buttons popped, meaning the linen gaped open, flashing flesh. Panties on her bottom half, which only served to tease his view.

  “You took too long.”

  He held up the tray with coffees and the bag with treats. “They had just finished making some croissants. They made me wait while they cooled down.”

  “Give me.” She held out a hand, and he passed the bag over.

  She almost bounced away from him, her excitement for a pastry quite palpable. She perched on the bed, crossing her legs. He might have enjoyed an interesting view if not for those pink cotton panties.

  The croissant hit her lips, her head tipped back, and she groaned. Moaned in such a way that she almost found herself mauled.

  He restrained himself and took the only seat in the room. He sipped his coffee as he perused her.

  She’d eaten the entire first croissant, unabashedly stuffing it into her mouth, humming happily. This woman was a liar. Quite possibly his enemy. How dare she look so fucking hot it hurt?

  Time to remind himself that they might not be working for the same outcome. “How is Sergei?”

  Her shoulders rolled. “Fine. I guess. I didn’t ask.”

  “Not going to deny you called him?”

  She raised her gaze. “You’re not stupid. You left me alone with a phone. You had to know I’d call someone.”

  “And what did you chat about?”

  “I let him know I was secure.”

  “I’m sure you said more than that. What did he say to you?”

  “You really want to know?” She fixed him with a look. “He wanted to remind me not to get distracted and to do my job.”

  I saw no signs of distraction during the blowjob. He crossed his legs as his mind played in colorful detail said bj from their shower. “If you don’t want to fuck again, you can just say so.” He didn’t need her using Sergei as an excuse to skip sex.

  “Is this where I remind you of your own rule? You know, the one where you don’t have sex with your employees.”

  “Are you working for me again?”

  “I am most definitely back on the job now that I’m cured of my distraction.”

  He didn’t know if he should be flattered that he made her thought process wonky or annoyed she’d used him and now had no reason for him other than a paycheck.

  “So that’s it, then? Just like that, we’re back to business only.”

  “I’m glad you understand.”

  “I hope this means you won’t be clingy,” he muttered.

  “I am never clingy, and I wouldn’t recommend you try,” she said, wagging her finger at him.

  “You were the one who used to be glued to me when I was trying to work.”

  “That was Fran. Fran cuddles.”

  “And what does Marina do?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Marina sits on the couch alone to watch television, and if she needs sex, she spreads her legs and masturbates until you come over.”

  He spat out his coffee to her laughter.

  “You are such a man,” she snickered.

  “You’re doing this on purpose to be shocking. Why?” he asked, using a napkin to wipe the hopeless coffee spots on his pants.

  “Because I can. I enjoy watching your reactions.”

  “You’re intentionally trying to make me dislike you.”

  “Is it working?”

  No. “I don’t have to like or dislike you to work with you. What I do need is a measure of trust. How am I supposed to trust you when you keep running to Sergei?” In a fight, could he trust her to have his back? Or would she stick a knife in it?

  “He wouldn’t betray me.”

  “You going to tell me he is like a father?”

  “No.” Her nose wrinkled. “My father and mother left me. Sergei is my handler. We are a team. If I fail, he doesn’t get paid. Sergei would never do anything to jeopardize his paycheck.”

  “Unless someone made him a better offer.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” Spoken with conviction, but Darren wasn’t as certain. He’d seen the depravity of mankind. Had played a part in some of its downfall, too.

  “If you’re so certain about Sergei and his team, then you won’t mind a little bet. A head-to-head battle, so to speak. If my guys are the leak, you win. If it’s Sergei, then I do.”

  “What are we wagering?” she asked before taking another bite of her third croissant, this one covered in icing sugar. A dessert for breakfast.

  “I guess we need a prize,” he said. “What do you want?” He was looking at it. One night in her arms, and buried to the hilt in her body just wasn’t enough. He needed more.

  But she didn’t ask him to bury his face between her thighs. “I want a favor later on.”

  That brought a furrow to his brow. “A favor? What kind of favor?”

  At the query, she rolled her shoulders. “I don’t know yet. But one day, I will call you and cash in.”

  “Seems pretty broad. What if you want me to kill someone or something?”

  “I didn’t take you for a pussy.”

  “Bravery has nothing to do with murder.” He didn’t believe in killing people without just cause.

  “What if I promise it won’t require you to kill anyone?”

  “No genie wishes,” he added.

  “What’s a genie wish?”

  “The vague one that is ‘save my family from ruin,’ only it requires me ruining myself to save it.”

  “You’re making this very complicated. Are you that convinced you’ll lose?” Marina smirked as she trapped him.

  He trusted Harry. Could he 100 percent trust his team? “Fine. If you win, you get a favor.”

  “Excellent.” She clapped her hands.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?”

  “Why bother? You are going to lose.” She offered him a cocky smile.

  Perhaps that was why he did it. Why he said it. “If I win, you have to live with me for a month.”

  It took her a moment, her mouth rounded in surprise, her eyes wide. Then she laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Totally. If Sergei is the rat, you, Marina Francesca Sokolov, are going to become my temporary live-in girlfriend.”

  “Being Fran for a whole month seems like unn
ecessarily cruel punishment,” she noted.

  “What if I said I don’t want Fran, but Marina?”

  For a moment, she blinked at him, and he kind of wanted to take the words back. Had he lost his balls? Spilling a stupidly girly sentiment like that to her face!

  “Agreed.” She reached out, and he hesitated a second in shock.

  Holy shit. She was gonna live with him for a month if he won. He extended his hand for a shake, sealing the pact. The pressure was on. I’d better fucking win. “During that month, no running off on odd jobs,” he stated.

  “Sure. I’ll even fuck you and play nice if we have to do public functions.”

  “You’re being awfully amenable. Is this your way of saying you like me?”

  “No, it’s my way of saying it won’t happen. I am going to win the bet. Although your choice is odd. I would have thought you’d ask for a free job. Say like bodyguarding for a year or something.”

  “You would have agreed?”

  “Yes, because you’re going to lose.” With that, she bounced off the bed and rummaged through her small suitcase. She outfitted herself in black yoga pants and a cowled, dark gray sweater.

  Is she my enemy or not? He’d slept with her and still didn’t know the answer. Good news, though. She hadn’t killed him in his sleep. Then again, knowing her, she’d want to do it face-to-face.

  She slid the gun she’d filched from Pierrot into the waistband at her back, using an academy trick where she twisted the elastic of her thong around the grip to keep it from sliding around. She tucked her sweater over it before putting on a dark jean jacket.

  Darren asked, “Did you tell Sergei where we were going?”

  She shook her head but didn’t look him in the eyes.

  She’s lying.

  “Did you tell your crew?” She bent to tie her shoes.

  “Nope. So we shouldn’t be running into anyone where we’re headed. Which, by the way, isn’t quite where I told you.”

  “Explain.”

  “I’ll be driving the next leg.” He dangled keys at her.

  “What are those?”

  “I rented a car.”

  “How?” she asked. “You weren’t gone that long.”

  “I popped by the registration desk, and the guy there knew a guy, and they took care of it for me.”

  “A rental will leave a trail.”

  “How else do you suggest we travel? And don’t say steal a car.”

  She grumbled. “You shouldn’t have done that without talking to me.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to run everything by me before doing it?” At her glare, he laughed. “You’re being silly. If I were Sergei, and I did this, you’d be kissing my ass.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. It’s very hairy.”

  That resulted in more spewed coffee, which was why he set the cup down and grabbed his suitcase. “It is not hairy. If you’re done making me choke—”

  “Because I am also a gifted conversationalist. It’s on my list of attributes,” she interrupted. “If you are ready, we should go.”

  Always ready to go. But she meant onto the next leg of their trip and not back to bed.

  “I’ve got everything, including the car keys.” He dangled them. “Front desk says the car is parked out front.”

  “I can’t believe you involved them,” she muttered. “Way to stay under the radar.”

  “Still waiting for you to actually explain what your plan is. Because, as far as I can tell, all you did this morning was sit around in your underwear eating and yakking our secrets.”

  “Masturbated, too.”

  No coffee to spew that time. “Let’s go. Your chariot awaits.”

  The door to their room needed no help slamming shut behind them.

  “You’d better not mean a chariot for real or anything too flashy that will draw attention.”

  “I might not be Russian,” he snapped as they hit the elevator, “but I am not a complete idiot. I didn’t get anything stupid. I rented something very generic and paid cash.”

  “I guess we could switch the plates.”

  “There you go. Great idea. I’ll handle that, if you can provide a distraction that keeps people from coming outside for a few minutes.”

  They exited into the lobby where no one paid them any mind. Darren had no idea what she planned to give him his distraction. He should have asked or set out a list of rules.

  The next thing he knew, she punched him hard in the arm and exclaimed, in a heavy Russian accent, “You pig. With my sister!”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he yelled back as she hit him again.

  “She told me what you did. In our house!” She grabbed a plastic sleeve with brochures from the desk—manned by a wide-eyed young man with piercings all over—and threw it.

  He easily dodged it and ducked the pen she threw at him. She bent down to get her shoe, cursing him out in Russian while the attendant muttered an ineffectual and cautious, “Madame? Pouvez-vous calmer—”

  Darren chose to duck outside rather than watch the act. He noted the rental, as described, parked at the curb, snug between cars. He popped the trunk first to slide in his suitcase then feigned dropping something. He used the Swiss army utility knife he’d found at Pierrot’s—while she grabbed the bigger firepower weapons—to unscrew the bolts. He quickly swapped the plates with the car behind him. It took care of the back. He then went to the front, opening the hood before dropping down to change the other one. Done in under two minutes. No one seemed to take notice.

  He hopped into the car and pulled out, heading toward the front door of the hotel where Marina exited, looking smug and holding a napkin.

  “What’s that?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking area.

  “A phone number. A nice man inside said he would never cheat on me like my pig rat boyfriend.” She smiled.

  “I would never cheat.”

  “What all men say. Actions speak louder.”

  How could he act when he wasn’t even sure he wanted to get involved? Sleeping with Marina had just muddied the issue. “I’m not the one who went into our first relationship lying.”

  “Good thing we won’t make that mistake again.”

  The statement made him tighten his grip on the wheel.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Annoying when someone else does it, isn’t it?” Petty revenge for when she wouldn’t answer? Yeah, and he was okay with it.

  “You are making it impossible for me to be your bodyguard. It’s a wonder you haven’t died yet.”

  “Maybe that’s because I don’t trust a known Russian operative with all the little details.”

  “I am not the one trying to kill you.”

  “Not yet.”

  “If you think I’m a risk, then why not fire me?”

  He flashed her a grin. “I live only once.”

  The reply took her aback, and it took a short moment before she chuckled. “You won’t live long if you don’t tell me where we’re going.”

  “Nope. If you don’t know, you can’t leak it.”

  “Leak it to whom?” She flung out her hands. “You threw out my cellphone.”

  “I did, yet you still managed to call your handler. So, now, I guess we see how trustworthy he is because I am going to wager that you gave him the false address.”

  “I told you I didn’t.”

  “I call bullshit.”

  Her lips pursed. “Maybe I told him.”

  “After I told you not to.”

  “How do I know you are not leading me into a trap? Someone needs to know where to look for my body.”

  “I don’t want to kill you.” Not anymore. Getting in her pants again, though… Totally different thing.

  “This place we’re going, who knows about it?”

  “Harry and Mason, probably a few other Bad Boy agents. I had them scout it as well as they could o
nline.”

  “Not in person.”

  “We didn’t want to tip anyone off.” Especially since whoever was behind the shenanigans on the island sent the orders from the school they were going to visit.

  A school currently on fire. They saw the smoke from blocks away.

  Parked at the curb, up the street, Darren gaped at it. The bright, flashing lights of emergency vehicles lit up the area, but brighter still the flames dancing from the carcass of the school, the smoke thick.

  Not as thick as her smug grin. “And it looks like I win.”

  Because Sergei hadn’t been told about this place.

  Only Harry and his team knew.

  “There must be a mistake.”

  “No mistake. You owe me a favor. Loser.”

  Except it turned out that they’d both lost. Because the school wasn’t the only building hit that night. The decoy location, the one Marina had told Sergei about was hit, too.

  It could mean only one thing.

  They were fucked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sobering results of their wager meant little was said between them. Using more of Pierrot’s cash and fake names, they checked into a motel.

  Darren said nothing as he entered the room and saw the single bed. Didn’t make any overtures or touch her. Hell, he barely even looked at her.

  It angered Marina and, at the same time, ignited need inside her. She wanted to be aloof, knowing theirs was a doomed pairing. Yet, her attraction to him was crazy.

  She couldn’t help it. Sergei was right to ask her if she was fit to get the job done. Because the real answer was… I don’t know.

  Darren made her forget things. Forget the rigid control she usually conducted herself with. He drove her wild.

  Whereas he appeared to feel nothing. He had no problem putting the passion they shared aside.

  Or so he made it seem. When she stripped, right down to her panties and a T-shirt she pulled from her suitcase, she caught him watching.

  From the corner of his eye, he peeked. Then quickly turned away.

  Perhaps he faked a lack of interest as hard as she did.

  What would happen if she tested that?

 

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