by JA Huss
“Then why didn’t you?” I snap.
“Because you are not my target. I’m not here for you.”
“Then tell me why you’re here.” I challenge. “I want to know now.”
He smirks at me and shakes his head.
I snatch the key from his hand and unlock the door. When he doesn’t stop me, I twist the handle and open it. Then I look over my shoulder. And that hesitation is my turning point. Because his mouth finds mine. Not hard and rough like an assassin, or soft and sweet like he’s caring for a child.
But something in between.
A man kissing a woman.
I turn into him and his arms go around mine, his hands inside my clothes before I even know what’s happening. One hand slides down the crack of my ass and pushes between my cheeks, while the other heads north to grab the back of my neck.
“I’m here for you, Harper. I want you.”
That spot between my legs wants him too. But my brain is scared out of my mind. I push him back. “No.” He sighs and removes his hand so he can step back a few paces. “I’m not ready.” His chuckle irritates me, like he already knew that. Like I’m just a girl who teases men and then gives them nothing. “I’m not like that,” I say aloud, building my case for his silent accusation. “I’m not a tease. I just…” I have nothing. So I demand the one thing I know I can’t have to cover for my insecurities. “I need to know you better first.”
I get a crooked smile in response. “You want to know if I like it rough? That answer is yes. If I take you, I’ll take you my way.”
“What? No!” I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You really want to know why I’m here?” He crosses his arms and leans back on his heels a bit.
I lift my chin and meet his gaze. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, I need that info or I can’t be with you.”
He laughs at my childish demand. “Of course, little lionfish. You are the pretty girl with the poison daggers poking through her skin. You ask for the one thing you know you can’t have to send me away. Right?”
My lips are sealed.
He grabs hold of my waist again and pulls me into his chest. My arms go around his neck automatically, like I already belong to him. And then he leans into my ear and whispers, “I killed my brother, Harper. I killed Number Five. I shot him in the head and then I poisoned a man to settle a debt for fucking up that job I mentioned in Europe. I’m allowed to kill people if I need to. And I needed to kill both these people. But my bosses were not happy about it. They said I failed the psych evaluation when I came in for the debrief. They said I’m a danger to them, myself, and the world. But since they’ve spent the past twenty years training me to kill, they can hardly blame me for a one-time indiscretion. As long as it was just a single incident. They said I could unwind at the beach. They wanted to see if some downtime would help—take the edge off.”
I turn my head and look him in the face. His expression is hard even though his words stayed soft. His eyes are squinting, the frown lines on his forehead more pronounced, his jaw tensed as he waits for my reaction.
“Is that what you wanted to hear, Harper?”
I nod up at him. “Yes. Thank you.” He pushes me away and starts walking down the hallway. “Wait!”
He doesn’t wait, just turns the corner at the little mechanical room. My feet are in motion as I chase after him.
“Wait!” I pull on his arm and he stops outside the open door to the laundry room. The dryer beeps, signaling that someone’s load is complete. “Where are you going?” My heart is suddenly beating fast at the thought of him walking away.
I get a sideways glance this time. Not his full attention. The glance that says I’m leaving. “I shouldn’t have told you that, I’m sorry.”
He pulls away but I grab him again. “Just stop, please.”
He sighs and does a few little headshakes, like he’s having some kind of internal debate. “That night you took those Ativan, I was on the phone with you?”
He waits, so I answer with, “Yeah?”
“You said, ‘You don’t want to know me… I’m no one.’” He turns to face me head-on now, his expression blank, his mouth a flat line. His eyes impassive and empty. I can see it now. This is a killer’s face. The dimples are hiding underneath the frown. The emotionless facade of a hardened assassin. A man who sees death as nothing personal, just a job to be completed.
“But you’re wrong, Harp. I’m the invisible one. You’re a beacon in the dark as far as I’m concerned. I’m the unknowable one. And if you were my contract, I would kill you.” He stares down at me with those impassive, cold, businesslike green eyes. “Just as sure as I did my brother. Because that’s what I do. That’s who I am. You might have all the moves, but you have none of the venom, lionfish.”
He turns to walk away but I grab him again. “You wouldn’t kill me—”
His hands grab me by the waist and yank me to his chest. “You think you want me? You think you want to know more?” He leans down and breathes into my neck for a moment. “Would you like me to take you, Harper?”
Tingles erupt throughout my whole body and the throbbing between my legs is begging for more contact. More skin on skin. More conversation, more soft, whispered words. More of everything. I want more of everything.
“Because I will. I’m that kind of guy. The kind who’ll seduce a little girl and fuck her wild just because he can make her think she wants him so bad, she’ll spread her legs and do as she’s told.”
“I’m almost nineteen. I can handle more than you think.”
He laughs. “A baby who has no idea what to do with a cock in her mouth.”
I’m ashamed to admit it, but instead of embarrassing me, his words hurt.
“I’m not interested in the babies, Harper. I just take what I want. And you were right to demand to know me before you let me fuck you. Because you reminded me of what I am. Why I’m here.” He yanks his arm from my grip and turns again.
My leg reaches forward and tangles with his, making him stumble, and then I grab his arm and twist. He reacts faster than I can plan the next move, and two seconds later he’s got me pinned to the concrete. Straddling my waist, hands holding me down, hunched over and leaning into my face. “You want me to stay?”
I can’t answer because I’m not sure.
He rises up on his knees a little bit, and then his hands release mine and begin to unbuckle his belt.
I lie absolutely still.
Once the buckle is out of the way, he makes quick work of the button, then the zipper on his pants.
I swallow hard.
“You will take my cock in your mouth.”
I lick my lips and the killer dimples appear in both cheeks.
“I’m gonna take your throat first, Harper. Then your pussy, then your ass.”
I’m not even sure what all that means, other than I’m gonna have sex.
He takes out his dick and pumps it a few times, pulling it up towards his stomach, exposing the long vein, pulsing with blood as it fills and becomes hard and thick. “Put your hand around it, Harper.”
I reach up and gently place my hand around his thickness. Immediately the wetness between my legs is back. I look up at his face for more directions, unsure of what I’m supposed to do. “Stroke me,” he says in a softer voice. “Harder,” he demands when I am timid. I squeeze harder and stroke up and down. Finding a rhythm like our heartbeats out on the beach.
Is this the same man?
I pump faster, and that makes his eyes close to half-mast. “Your little hands on my big cock, Harper. I love it. Now open your mouth.”
I freeze. Staring at him. Deciding.
“Open,” he says again.
I obey.
“Wider,” he whispers as he places his hands on either side of my head and crawls up my body. The tip of his dick touches my lips. “Should I tell you how I like it, Harp?”
I swallow and then force out a small laugh.
“If you want it to feel good, you probably should.”
He smiles and I relax a little. I’m not sure if I like him. James or Tet, whatever he wants to be called. He’s unstable. He’s a killer. He killed his own brother. But he and I are not that different. That’s the nature of this life we’ve been born into. I’m not even sure I want to do this, but I’m craving that intimacy he showed me earlier. I need the touch. So, so bad. And maybe he’s a sick fuck… but so am I. Really… we’re perfect for each other.
Being force-fed his dick on the floor in front of the laundry room is not my dream first blowjob. But being left in this hallway, alone again—I can’t take it. I need a connection, even if it’s based on control and psychological manipulation.
He eases forward. “Open wider.” I do, and he flicks his dick against my lips. I instinctively close my eyes and my mouth. “Open, Harper. And don’t close again until we’re done.”
I nod and open my mouth but not my eyes. His tip is warm and smooth.
“Lick it,” he commands.
I twirl my tongue around a little, and then he pulls back and thrusts forward, hitting the back of my throat. I gag and he withdraws again. “Get on your knees for me.” His voice has changed now. Lower, rougher. And for a moment I’m scared, but then his hand finds mine, and he pulls me up to a sitting position as he himself stands. “Knees, Harper.”
I scramble to my knees and before I even have a chance to settle he’s back in my mouth. Both of his hands go behind my head and he pushes himself inside me again. I gag and my hands grab his dick and push him away.
“Hands on your thighs, Harper,” he commands.
I obey and he stuffs himself in farther, his dick pleading with my throat to go deeper. I cough a little and this makes the killer moan with pleasure. I swallow and get the same reaction, only it’s too much all of a sudden and I begin to choke.
“Breathe through your nose,” James says, petting my hair.
I take deep inhaling breaths through my nose.
“Now, flatten out your tongue in the back of your mouth.”
I gag again, but his tip is still seeking out my throat. It pushes forward, then withdraws slightly. Saliva is pooling in my mouth to the point of overflowing, and the next thrust sends it dripping down my chin.
The next time I gag his hands grab my hair and pull my head back so he can go deeper.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” he groans, and then I feel the warm rush of release slide down my throat.
“Swallow,” he whispers.
I gulp until the warm salty liquid is gone and the pulsations in his cock subside.
He withdraws and my head falls forward. I sit back on my butt, wiping the spit off my face. I’ve never felt more humiliated in my life.
His zipper goes back up and then there is nothing but silence.
Chapter Ten - Harper
The drier buzzes again. A signal that someone should be coming for the clothes very soon. James taps me on the shoulder but I don’t look up or acknowledge him. All I see is a long, sticky strand of saliva that is dripping down the front of my tank top. He taps again. “You can go away now,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry for keeping you.”
He bends down and grabs my hand, then urges me to stand.
I do. But I keep my head bowed in shame. I can’t believe I just gave my first blowjob to a stranger in a hallway. I’ve never had any illusions about my life. I’ve never bought into that whole knight thing you read about in girl magazines. I’m not the wannabe princess. But this?
I snatch my hand from his and turn away. I stare at my feet the whole way back to my door. His hands grip my shoulders before I can actually enter the apartment, and then he twirls me around. “Just go,” I say, ready to cry. “I’m over it. Thanks for the good time.”
His fingers dip under my chin and try to force me to look at him. But I’m done. I’m in shut-down mode. That pliable girl who opened for his dick is gone. I’m pissed.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
I nod, but keep my eyes on his shoes.
“I hope you have a nice life, Harper. I won’t tell them I found you.”
My head shoots up at that admission. “You are here to kill me!”
“No,” he says back, his green eyes betraying a lost and desperate person inside. That person who hides behind this beautiful face and god-like body. Behind the man who walked hand in hand with me to the beach and pretended to like me so he could get oral sex from an amateur or whatever the hell it was he wanted.
I stare up at him and he moves a little so that the light from the hallway above his head turns him into nothing more than a dark hovering shape. The symbolism is so appropriate. “Is that what we are?” I ask him. “Just dark shapes with no features? Is that all I’ll ever be?”
He says nothing and I have my answer.
“When you were little did you have a dream?”
“No,” he says, turning his head so the light comes and goes. He’s human one moment, the dark amorphous killer the next. Then human again as he steps back and shifts his body, no longer facing me.
“Well, I had one. We had one.” He turns back when I say we and it hurts me so bad that he knows what that means. “We were gonna escape in the tender boat and say fuck them all. And we were going to live a new life.” I wait for some kind of acknowledgment. Or maybe an apology. For what? I’m not sure. He’s not responsible for what happened to us.
“And now I have no we, James. There is no us. And I guess if I had been the one to pull the trigger, if I had been the one to make that decision to pull the trigger… like you did to your brother”—this gets his attention, but by the way his lip curls, I know immediately that’s not the kind of attention I want from James Fenici—“then I’d have nothing to be so pissed about. But that’s not what happened. I had a dream, James. And they took it away. So I dreamed a new one all alone. And if you get in my way…” I straighten my back and tip up my chin—accepting who and what I really am in this defining moment. I wait for him to look me in the eye. “I’ll kill you.”
He gives me a little nod. A professional courtesy, perhaps. Or maybe it’s a ploy to keep me calm as he considers his options. “I know who you are,” he says. “All ten of us were briefed last summer. I know what you did. I know what happened to make you run. And I know what you have, even if I didn’t find it in that little room with your money and your key.”
He pauses to see if I’ll react, but we come from the same place. We were poured into the mold as children and then popped out as adults. We’re the same, maybe not equals, but still the same. So I know when to hold the cards tight. He’s gonna wait a long time for that reaction.
When I don’t give him what he expects, he continues. “I’m supposed to turn you in, but I won’t.”
“Why?” I laugh. “Because you’re an assassin with a heart? You fancy yourself a good person deep down inside?”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m not a good person, deep or otherwise.” And then he turns and walks away.
“And that’s why you just did that to me?” I call after him. I don’t want him to leave. This small taste of human interaction is like a drug and it’s been so long since I had a companion. “Is that why you humiliated me like some worthless whore?”
He stops, shakes his head, and I can hear a small chuckle before he turns back. He’s smiling as he walks the few paces back towards me. “You think I humiliated you back there?” His head jerks to the end of the hallway where it turns the corner to the laundry room. “You have no idea, do you?”
I force a shrug. “No idea about what?”
He reaches for me. Slowly. Like a hungry person trying to steal a bone from a starving dog. I allow him to pull me close one more time. I’d probably let him do anything to me right now, that’s how badly I want his touch. Even after he stuffed his dick in my mouth and came down my throat… I still want to be near him.
“Harper,” he says quietly as he leans d
own into my ear. He takes my hand and places it on the front of his zipper. He’s hard again. His dick is long and thick, even through his jeans. “When my cock was in your throat. That moment”—he breathes into the shell of my ear, the warm air does a little dance with the sensitive touch receptors and I almost go wild—“right before I came in your mouth…”
The throbbing and wetness between my legs is threatening to overtake my senses at the moment. I’m not sure how much longer I can last before I combust from the fire building inside me.
“… when I was groaning with the pleasure of your tongue and the warm, wet muscles in your throat as you desperately tried to give me what I craved… that, Harper, is humiliation. Because in that moment, you owned me. All I saw was you taking my cock. Letting me do whatever I wanted to find my release. And you owned me. You had all the power, lionfish. Not me.”
His hand is suddenly between my legs, pushing against my shorts. He pulls them aside and slips his fingers into the crease. “Has anyone ever touched you here?” The softness is gone and in its place is a demand. A low rumbling, and almost angry demand. “Answer me,” he says, pushing his fingers further into my folds.
“No,” I whisper. My body is out of my control right now. My head is spinning as his fingers dip deeper, and then withdraw, only to flick against my most sensitive spot.
I lose my mind. My head falls backward against the wall and I moan. And then his mouth is on mine, his tongue dancing back and forth inside. I respond out of instinct, my tongue trying to mimic the dips and pushes of his fingers in my throbbing sex. He pumps hard and I gasp, but his mouth is back at my ear, whispering soothing things, soft things, comforting things. So I relax and let him do anything he wants. This is a pleasure I have never known. And I’d do anything to make it continue.
“Now I have the power, don’t I?”
I can only nod.
