Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance)

by Terry Towers

  This was the problem with women these days. They went around looking like whores wanting to be fucked, teasing and taunting men. If they were going to be walking around as if begging to be treated like whores, then by God, I’d give them what they wanted. Although most of these women were dealing with pansy-assed boys who likely came in their pants just seeing a naked woman. They’d never dealt with the likes of me before, and if they had they’d never walk around putting themselves on display like she was – never again. Unless, of course, their Master demanded it, but that’s an entirely different story altogether and doesn’t apply here. My eyes reached her face, which was flushed, her blues eyes slightly bloodshot; by the look of it she had more than just alcohol in her.

  Her hand slid up higher on my arm as she took a step closer. “I’ve kinda been watching you and saw you were alone.” Her fingertip made circular motions on my arm, causing the muscle to flex under her touch. “Was thinking you could use some company.”

  I looked back over at the brunette and my cock began to swell. I wanted to fuck her, and I would. Sadly, I still had a while to wait. She’d been joined by two of her friends, so it wouldn’t be ideal to approach her at the moment. The nightclub didn’t close for a little over an hour yet, so it was safe to assume they would be here for a while – not all of them had found a hook-up for the night.

  “I’m Penny.”

  I turned my attention back to the woman who’d introduced herself as Penny and extended my hand to her, pasting a smile on my face and looking deep into her eyes. “Tanner.” I had the art of covering the darkness that flowed through my veins down to a science. While there was darkness and depravity in my mind, she’d never know it – at least not until it was too late for it to matter.

  “Oh, I love your name.” She spun a lock of golden hair around her index finger, looking up at me through her fake eyelashes. God, I hated fake eyelashes. Why couldn’t women be happy with the way they looked without all the shit they put on themselves? Ridiculous if you asked me, right up there with fake nails and boob jobs. My attention went back to the brunette. There didn’t appear to be anything fake about her – her beauty was genuine, making me want her more.

  Grabbing my beer, the only for the night, I gulped it down and pushed myself off the bar. Taking the blonde’s hand in mine – correction fake blonde’s, as I could see her dark roots despite the dimmed lighting – hand in mine I pulled her to a darkened corner of the dance floor. She didn’t seem to need an invitation, as she slid her arms around my neck and began to bump and grind against me, taunting my cock with every move of her hips.

  She was whispering in my ear. I wasn’t listening. I was watching the brunette, as Penny rubbed her pelvis against my cock, intensifying my need for her – provoking me. Little Miss Fake Tits was pressing her luck with me.

  Two songs passed – three songs.

  With each song I moved the blonde farther from the dance floor until I had her backed against a wall in a far-off corner of the nightclub. People could still see us, but I didn’t care. Spinning her around, nearly setting her off-balance in the ungodly high heels she was wearing, I pushed her face-first against the wall, my front to her back as I lowered my lips to her neck.

  She made an attempt to squirm and protest, but I ignored her. I was going to get what I wanted whether she wanted it or not. If she was going to tease, then I was damned well going to take. However, when my lips brushed against her neck, my teeth biting into the side, she whimpered softly and her protests turned to moans of need.

  Placing my hands to the sides of her outer thighs, I pushed her short skirt up until it was bunched around her waist. It was no surprise that she wasn’t wearing panties. Women like her were such a bore, but she’d serve my purpose for the moment.

  “Wait! Maybe we should –” She began protesting and squirming against me again, with a little more desperation – trying to free herself. I liked that she squirmed; I liked that she was challenging my will. It added to the perverse thrill and made me want the fake whore more. The growing excitement she was provoking within me was pushing my thoughts of the church girl to the back of my mind – for now.

  I lowered my lips to her ear and nipped at the lobe. “I want you. I need to fuck you, Penny. And I’m going to.”

  “But –”

  Slipping my leg between her thighs, I forced her legs wider and slid my hand to the apex, seeking out her heat. As expected she was wet for me, ready for my cock to take the dirty whore. Spreading her pussy lips, I slid one finger into her, then two, and began stroking her. Her protests immediately stopped and she began to moan again, her needy body bucking against my probing fingers.

  “Yessssss,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “YES! Oh yes, take me.”

  Thanks, but I wasn’t going to wait for an invitation.

  With my free hand I undid the front of my pants and released my cock, which already had a drop of cum at the tip. Removing my hand from her core, I pulled a condom from the front pocket of my jeans, ripped the package open and quickly slipped it onto my throbbing dick, discarding the wrapper on the floor at our feet. Safety first when dealing with bar skanks.

  Spreading her legs a little farther apart, I stepped between them, lined the head of my dick up with her opening and unceremoniously thrust up into her with a low groan. Her moist, welcoming pussy took me in and she moaned loudly. If I were a nice guy… if I gave a shit about her pleasure maybe I’d prolong the experience for her, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass, to be honest.

  Immediately I began thrusting, taking her fast and hard. I think I may have heard her beg me to slow down, but I ignored the request. She wanted to be fucked, she was getting fucked. She’d never know how lucky she was that I wasn’t choosing her to take home with me. Yup, she was getting the fuck of a lifetime and got to keep her freedom – the bitch just won the lottery as far as I was concerned.

  Reaching around her, I grasped the neckline of the spandex top she was wearing and yanked it down, allowing her breasts to fall out and into my hands. Cupping her globes in my palms, I began massaging them, pinching the nipples so hard she screamed out, but her cries were overshadowed by the loud thumping of the music. Screams were like music to my ears. To all the patrons of the nightclub we were just another couple who couldn’t make it home before fucking – nothing to see here.

  My cock was getting closer to its release point. While her mind was reluctant upon realizing she’d lost the control she’d thought she had over me, her pussy said otherwise. Her juices surrounded me, her core clenching around my cock, begging me for my cum. I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder, seeking out the brunette. I found her; she was alone again and looking just as uncomfortable as she had when she’d first arrived a couple of hours ago.

  I watched her as I slammed into Penny. Releasing the bimbo’s breasts, I grabbed her hips and fucked her so hard each thrust slammed her violently against the wall. Her protests turned to moans again as her body began to tremble. Seconds later she screamed out as her pussy tightened around my shaft and creamed around me.

  Smiling, I thrust into her several more times before releasing with a low groan. A decent lover would take a few seconds to savour the feel of her body against mine, but I’m not. Once the final spurt of cum spilled from my cock, I pulled out.

  “Thanks,” I murmured into her ear moments before I jabbed a needle into her neck, which would put her out for the rest of the night. When she woke up, between the mix of drugs and alcohol she had in her system, I was confident she wouldn’t remember me or a damned thing that had happened between us. Pulling off the condom, I quickly put myself away and took a step back from her – then a second. Without another look at the blonde bimbo who was wobbling on her heels, bracing her weight against the wall as she fought the darkness that was no doubt overtaking her mind and body, I strolled over to the nearest trash can, tossed the used condom into it and made my way over toward my prey.

  ***

  Emily


  I shouldn’t be here.

  I looked around the club, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. This was my first time at a club and my father would kill me if he knew I was here, but my friends had convinced me. Peer pressure, I guess. But it was more than that… It was sheer rebellion after eighteen years of being sheltered from what my family perceived as the sins of the outside world.

  My father was a pastor and we’d just moved to the area, where he was taking over a church. In previous places I’d been home-schooled and my friends had been the kids of other church members, but this time I wanted and had different friends. Friends of my own who wouldn’t rat me out to my father if I did something wrong.

  Being a pastor’s daughter came with expectations. My father felt it was his duty to ensure I was the perfect “Proverbs 31” woman for my future husband – a woman of virtue and humility eager to be a dutiful wife and mother – and hence parented me with an iron fist, preparing me for my ultimate role. Life barely existed outside the church for me. I’d been placed in a bubble that contained only family, church and God, and it was suffocating me. I was at my breaking point – in truth, I’d been at my breaking point for many years now.

  I was tired of the pressure. Tired of the expectations. At eighteen years old, I wanted to discover the woman I could be without the pressure of my father and the church. Alas, after a couple of hours of standing in a corner at the club, more or less by myself, watching my new friends having fun and hooking up, I’d accepted the fact that it wasn’t going to happen here. In fact, not a single man had approached me. None. It was humiliating. It wasn’t like I wanted to hook up, but at least a dance with someone would have been nice. Maybe having a little attention lavished on me. Maybe having a guy or two tell me I was beautiful, like they said to the other girls – even if it wasn’t sincere. Was that so much to ask?

  Was I that heinous-looking? I didn’t think so.

  Vanity is a sin, baby girl. A woman must always present herself with dignity and modesty. My father’s words echoed through my mind. Makeup and revealing clothes are for sinners and they invite the wickedness within men to come forward.

  Spinning around, I looked at myself in the mirror that was at my back. I wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but I wasn’t ugly either. My friend Bonnie had insisted I put on some makeup. I thought it looked nice – nothing over the top, but just enough blush and bronzer to give my cheekbones definition and a rosy glow, and mascara to accent my dark eyes.

  I was average. Even my height – 5’5 – was average. I was just… I shrugged… average. I suspected part of my problem was my attire. My friend Bonnie had offered me sexier clothing, but I’d declined. I’d never worn anything like that before, and to be completely truthful, the thought of showing that much of my body made me uncomfortable. Years of training and grooming by my father had embedded modesty and humility into my consciousness. Some would say it was brainwashing and I wouldn’t argue with them on that point.

  My dark eyes narrowed in the mirror as I watched a tall, well-built man cross the dance floor, easily one of the sexiest men I’d ever set eyes on. He walked with purpose and determination, like he owned the place or something – it both intimidated and excited me. He was wearing a tight-fitting black T-shirt, blue jeans and a leather jacket. But it was his eyes that trapped me – they were so dark, and each time one of the lights crossed his face, his eyes pulled me in.

  As if feeling my eyes on him, he caught my reflection in the mirror, and to my surprise he smiled, displaying perfectly straight, white teeth. The sound of female laughter drew my attention to the left and I spotted a sexy-looking redheaded girl waving at the man. I laughed at myself as I spun around; of course that was who he’d really been smiling at. I was being stupid. Of course he wasn’t looking at me – he was looking at her. I looked down at the floor, focusing on the pointed toes of my black leather pumps, trying to hide my embarrassment, although the darkness of the club would have hidden it anyhow.

  “Hello.”

  I looked up, startled to see the dark stranger standing right before me. He smiled again and this time it was at me. Really at me. My mouth fell open. I attempted to return his greeting, but no words seemed to want to come out, so I snapped it shut again. Maybe it was a good thing no one had approached me up until that point, because I was feeling like a royal idiot for not even being able to respond.

  He leaned in to me, his lips close to my ear. “I said hello.”

  I swallowed down my fear. “Hi.”

  He cocked his head to the side, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem to fit in here.”

  I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks and I lowered my gaze, peering down at the floor between our feet, the toes of my shoes becoming interesting again. “That apparent, huh?”

  “Little bit, yeah. In fact, I’m not even sure you’re supposed to be here. You’re not twenty-one, are you?”

  The heat in my cheeks intensified. Of course he wasn’t interested in me – maybe he was indeed the owner and he just wanted the minors out of there. I contemplated lying, but I’m a horrible liar. Lying is yet another sin, after all. I shook my head. “Eighteen. My friends…”

  “I seriously doubt they’re twenty-one either.”

  “Are you going to kick us out? Or call the police? Please don’t. My father…” I looked up at him, pleading. My father would be so disappointed, and the very last thing I wanted was to disappoint him. I just wanted to do something a little wild for a change. Just my luck my one act of rebellion was going to land me in a heap of trouble. I could see in my mind’s eye the fury in my father’s eyes if he had to pick me up at the police station. I hadn’t been given the belt in a year or so, but no doubt I’d be feeling its wrath over this.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “We ditch this place and go somewhere a little more quiet. I’d like to get to know you.”

  I stared into his eyes, those dark onyx pools that fascinated me and pulled me in. A part of me was telling me not to go with him, that it was a very bad idea. Bad things happened to careless and reckless girls who went alone with strange men. But there was another part of me that wanted to be like the rest of the girls. Hell, half of the girls I’d come with had already left with men, some of whom they hadn’t even known until that night! He’d said he just wanted to get to know me, not that he wanted to have sex. No harm in that, right?

  Good Christian women do not go to bars and clubs looking for men. Only immoral women frequent places like that, baby girl. I could hear my father’s words in my head. It had been his reaction when I’d told him the girls at school went to clubs on the weekends. He’d then proceeded to forbid me from continuing my friendship with those misguided young women and return to home schooling for the remainder of the year. However, I’d ignored his advice, and here I was, in front of a man I knew he wouldn’t approve of and contemplating leaving with him.

  But not for sex, I assured myself. Men like the man before me never took an interest in the shy, introverted church girl. Never. Years of experience had taught me that. But for once, one claimed to be, and it thrilled me. I know this sounds odd, but it made me feel special.

  He extended his hand to me. “I’m Tanner.”

  I accepted his hand and it closed around my dainty one. “Emily.” He didn’t release my hand immediately, and I’ll admit I didn’t want him to. His touch was strong, possessive.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so forward. I really am just interested in getting to know you. No expectations other than just having a little walk and a chat. It’s too loud in here to really have a conversation. I promise I’m not some crazy kidnapper or anything like that.”

  A soft smile spread across my lips. “Isn’t that what a kidnapper would say?”

  “Hmmm. You might be right.” He took a step back and spread his hands out to his sides, his lips forming a wide smile again. “But
do I look like some crazy guy? Do I really look like I’d need to kidnap girls from bars and keep them locked in my basement?” He laughed, his face lighting up, delight shining in his eyes.

  Don’t be such a prude. You’ve never done a wild thing in your life, Emily, a voice in the back of my mind urged. And the voice was right. I always followed my father’s rules. Always. And when it came right down to it, I did share my father’s vision for me, I did want to be the perfect wife to a good Christian husband. But why couldn’t I have fun, just once? Why couldn’t I just throw caution to the wind and do something a little crazy? What would it really hurt? That was what I’d come here for in the first place.

  And he was so handsome, and that dangerous bad-boy vibe excited me. He was perhaps in his late twenties, much too old for me. But then again, why was I overthinking this? It wasn’t like anything was going to happen. It was a little walk – nothing more, nothing less.

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He cocked a brow at me. “Just okay? You’re hurting my feelings.”

  Laughing, I rolled my eyes at him. “I mean, I’d love to.”

  “Good.” Slipping an arm around my shoulders, he started to lead me toward the exit.

  “Wait.” I stopped in midstride and he stopped with me. “I have to tell my friends I’m leaving.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  I took a couple of steps toward my friend Bonnie and then spun back to face him. “Can I get a lift home? I mean, if you have a car here.”

  He smiled at me. “Of course.”

  “If you don’t mind…”

  “Why would I mind?”

  I frowned. “But only if you haven’t been drinking, ’cause…” I shrugged. “You know…”

  He made a criss-cross over his chest with his index finger. “Cross my heart.”

  We shared another smile before I rushed off to fill Bonnie in on my change of plans.

  Chapter 2

  Emily

  “So tell me about yourself. I want to know everything,” Tanner said.