THE HITMAN'S CHILD: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance

by Nicole Fox

  Getting up on my knees, I placed my arms around his neck and pulled myself to him, leaning into his ear.

  “Will you let me explore?”

  “Yeah, baby. I’m all yours.”

  I smiled at that, his words getting to me more than they should.

  “Lie down.”

  He didn’t hesitate as he lay on his back, and I was able to straddle him. I’d never put too much focus on his body, other than noting the fact that it was built like a rock. He had a light dusting of hair down his chest, a scar around the size of my forefinger that stretched down his left side, dark nipples, and perfectly chiseled abs.

  I started with his nipples first, sucking and nibbling them. My fingers had subconsciously begun to rake down his spine, and I felt a low rumble that seemed to emanate from his chest. I didn’t give in, though, continuing to the other nipple.

  King was holding my hips with his hands, pulling me tightly against him. I was moving down his chest now, licking a trail over his abs and further down, to the waistband of his jeans.

  I unbuttoned, unzipped, and wiggled his jeans down his legs. As always, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and his erection sprung forth, as high and hard as ever. I didn’t pause at the sight, though, as much as I was licking my lips. Continuing until his jeans were finally off, I threw them somewhere behind me with little interest. I took off my own shorts, and we were finally both naked and ready.

  King still hadn’t moved to take control, something that I appreciated more than he’d ever know. I worked my way back up to the steel rod between his legs and gave it a good long lick from base to tip. My delight at causing King to buck his hips was all-encompassing. Both of my hands curled around his length and began a slow and deliberate stroke, creating a steady rhythm that caused his breathing to increase. King had closed his eyes, but as soon as my mouth blew a breath of hot air over the tip, they shot open.

  While maintaining eye contact, I took him a little further in my mouth. His hot gaze was enough to send a spark of desire to my stomach and caused me to rub me legs together.

  I could tell King was reaching his limit, but I didn’t want to stop yet.

  “Come here,” he demanded.

  Releasing him from my mouth, I crawled up his body, until we were face to face.

  “I want you to sit on my face.”

  His words sent another jolt through me, and I obeyed immediately, swinging my legs around, so that I was straddling his face, and my head was at his cock again.

  With his first lick of my wet core, I bucked my hips in pleasure. I found myself unable to move after that, since King was holding my ass and grinding my netherlips to his face. He was lapping at me, stabbing into me with his tongue.

  My groans were muffled since my mouth was occupied, but I couldn’t stop just yet. I took him deeper into my throat, using my nails to, ever so gently, scrape across his balls, rolling his sac. King rewarded me instantly, biting down on my clit and causing me to release a strained cry. I convulsed into his mouth, but he kept on licking through my orgasm. Even as I came down from my high, he kept going, spreading me with his hands and working me up again.

  I wanted more this time. I rolled off of King and positioned myself so that I was straddling his hips.

  “Sorry, King. I need you in me.”

  Lifting myself onto my knees, I held the crown of his cock in my hand and slid it inside me an inch. I had to pause at that, panting as I used my inner muscles to push myself lower on him. King was panting too, his hands on my hips, trying not to slam me down on him.

  “You’re gonna have to hurry it up a little, baby.”

  I moved down another inch, my slippery juices coating him and easing my passage as I sank down on him. Happy with my progress, I didn’t even realize that King had reached his limit. With one forceful pull, he slammed me onto him, burying his entire length inside me. I froze, impaled on him, trying to get accustomed to him inside me from that angle. It didn’t take long before I started lifting myself up and down. I clenched around him with every downward stroke, and King began to thrust up to meet me.

  My nails raked over his chest, but the contact wasn’t anywhere near enough. I bent down to kiss him again, a long, wet, and sloppy kiss that mimicked the rhythm of our hips.

  “I’m close,” I whispered into his mouth.

  “Can I take over?” he asked.

  My heart seemed to swell almost painfully inside my chest at his question. I nodded softly, placing one last kiss on his lips.

  King curled an arm around my waist and then flipped us over, with him still buried inside me. He started a slow pace now, seeming to fill me more resolutely as his weight pressed on me. My legs were locked around his backside, heels digging into him and urging him on. He didn’t need any encouragement, thrusting into me long, hard, and deep. He slowly increased his pace, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I’d never felt physically or emotionally closer to him, and I loved it. My climax seemed to creep up in an unassuming wave, until it crashed over me, and I had to close my eyes against the onslaught.

  Our sweaty bodies still slid over each other in perfect harmonization, as I squeezed every last drop of King’s desire from him. He slumped on me for a moment and started to roll off me, but my locked legs kept him in place.

  “You can’t breathe,” he protested.

  “Yes, I can.” My eyes remained closed, as my heartbeat pounded in my ears. I could fell the rise and fall of King’s chest, a reassuring weight on top of me.

  “Just for a moment,” I said.

  King relaxed further onto me, connected to me in every way in this peaceful moment that stretched into another and another.

  Chapter Sixteen

  King

  I woke up surrounded by an all-consuming warmth. It took me a moment to remember that I was in Christy’s bed, her soft body curled into my side, her steady breaths blowing onto my chest.

  Last night had been different. It wasn’t something I could explain in words, but Christy and I had connected in a way we hadn’t before. The sex was great, as usual, but it was different at the same time, raw and emotional.

  Christy had been a goddess last night, and her look of contentment afterward, as we lay still joined together, had been completely worth it. She was sleeping soundly now, though it must be late morning, or even early afternoon.

  I couldn’t extract myself from her without waking her, so I remained happily beside her, more than willing to wait until she awoke. My plans for Rossi were still swimming around in my head, and now was as good a time as any to sort them out.

  Christy had brought up a good point yesterday, though I would be hard pressed to willingly let her go out and put herself in danger. However, I knew she wouldn’t listen to me, so maybe I would just let her do her own thing and trust her to remain safe as she did it.

  If she was really gathering proof on Rossi, then was there any reason for me to go back to him? I wasn’t getting anywhere, and all I was doing was getting aggravated with dealing with his sleazy ass.

  It killed me that Christy might be putting herself in danger, though. Going around and asking questions was a dangerous activity, especially if she asked the wrong one to the wrong person. She could get herself in serious shit, and I didn’t want that to happen. But Christy was as stubborn as a mule, and I knew that nothing I could say would make her stop.

  Just then, Christy stirred in my arms, snuggling deeper into my side for a second before she stiffened and jerked away a little.

  “Oh,” she said, as she looked up at me with a sleepy smile. “It’s just you.”

  “Are you bringing any other men into your bed?” I asked teasingly.

  “No,” she laughed. “But I did forget for a moment.”

  “Did you sleep all right?”

  “I did,” she grinned. “Very, very all right, in fact.”

  I couldn’t resist her soft smile and moved in to kiss her, but she pulled away immediately.

 
; “No! Are you crazy? Morning breath.”

  Relaxing infinitely, I laughed and rolled us, so I was laying on her.

  “I don’t care,” I said, showering her face with chaste kisses as she squirmed and laughed.

  “King!” she squealed.

  I lunged forward and captured her lips solidly under my own, deepening the kiss, so that our tongues intertwined and she was moaning into my mouth. No amount of morning breath would ever stop me from doing that.

  Finally pulling away, I looked down at her and admitted what had been running through my mind that morning.

  “So, I don’t think I’m going back to the club,” I said. I didn’t see a need to try and work it into the conversation, knowing she would be happy about it.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Yeah, really. If you think you can get your information faster than I can, then there’s not really a point is there?”

  “Oh, King!” Christy beamed up at me and leaned forward, planting a kiss on my temple. “Thanks for trusting me. I know my girls won’t let me down. The dancers know everything, and they’ll definitely help me out, after what Rossi did to me.”

  “Good, I’m counting on it.”

  # # #

  Christy turned out to be right about her dancers. She carefully met up with a few of them over the next few days, always in different places so she could be as inconspicuous as possible. I was glad she was being careful with her hunt for evidence, but I didn’t really believe that she would be able to find anything out so quickly.

  When she called me over a few nights later, opening the door with the most excited expression I had ever seen plastered all over her face, I knew she’d found something.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “None of the dancers said they knew anything in particular about Rossi,” she began. “But a few of them mentioned a guy that might be able to help us.”

  “What guy? Do you know anything about him?” It seemed strange to me that the dancers pointed her in the direction of one man. I wasn’t sure if it was a setup, or if he could actually help, but I was willing to find out.

  “His name is Andres Romano. I get the impression that he’s really big and important, almost like they were scared to talk about him. None of them has ever met him though.”

  “So, it’s just a bunch of rumors, then? Are you sure you want to go there?”

  “I do. This could be our only chance. Will you help me find him?”

  Christy looked up me pleadingly, willing me to say that I would. I wasn’t sure what gave her the impression that I would say no. We were in it together now, and it wasn’t like I would let her go after a potentially powerful and dangerous man on her own.

  “Yeah, I’ll help you. Give me a few days, and I’ll ask around.”

  It turned out that a few days weren’t even necessary to find out about Andres Romano. He was well-known on the streets and with a few of my old contacts. It surprised me that almost all of them warned me to keep myself clear of him.

  “You don’t want to get involved in that, King,” I was told on many occasions. “Just steer clear.”

  Of course, I told them all that I couldn’t do that. They all reluctantly told me to go to the same place; a tall building on the outskirts of the city that screamed danger. It was the kind of building that you could pass by every day for years and still never know who went inside, or what was done in there. It was unassuming and threatening at the same time.

  Christy had, of course, demanded that she come, and as much as I tried to stop her, she was incredibly persistent. If I hadn’t let her in the car, she would’ve, no doubt, found a way to follow me. I was worried for her, though, and I wished would stay behind until I scoped out the place and hopefully found the man we were looking for. It was especially worrying when I thought about how the place was so dangerous that all my contacts—big, burly, men who weren’t scared of anything—had warned me adamantly to stay away.

  We approached the building carefully, eyes peeled. I kept up my persona of confidence to reassure both Christy and myself. My shoulders were back, my chin up, and my stride assured, as I prepared for whatever came our way.

  “Stop.” A voice called out as we climbed the stairs to the—front door.

  I almost hadn’t seen him when we approached, his dark suit blending in the shadows of the building.

  “State your name and purpose.”

  If it was at any other time, I might have cracked a smile at his completely blank face and tone, but I remained as impassive as he was.

  “King DeLeon. I’m looking for a Andres Romano.” I willed Christy to stay silent beside me and, thankfully, she did. The man’s eyes flickered to Christy for a moment, but, almost simultaneously, I stepped slightly in front of her, a physical barrier between them. The guard understood my non-verbal message completely and, thankfully, didn’t press it, shifting his gaze back to mine.

  “And why exactly do you need to meet with him?” The man continued, with his same monotonous voice.

  “That’s something I’d like to discuss with him,” I replied.

  The man raised his eyebrows at me uncaringly, but he raised a hand to his ear, where there must have been an earpiece.

  “Frank, I have a King DeLeon to see the boss.”

  A pause and then, “He won’t say. Just wants to speak with him.”

  Another brief silence, and then, “Okay, I’ll wait.”

  He looked at me as if asking whether I had gotten the message, and I nodded in agreement, sliding my hands into my pockets and preparing myself for a long wait.

  Christy turned to me, widening her eyes and gesturing subtly with her head at the man behind us. I could almost hear her saying, ‘this is so weird, right?’

  I nodded a fraction, trying not to let my apprehension show. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew we were potentially in more danger than we were prepared for, but it was too late to back out now.

  It was a surprisingly short time before the man lifted a hand to his earpiece again.

  “Come with me,” he called a moment later, turning on his heel and walking into the building. The guard led us through the ground floor and through the double doors at the other end of the level. On the other side was a courtyard of sorts, hidden away from the view of the street.

  We stood there waiting for a few moments, until we heard others approaching.

  Four men were walking towards us. Three of them I didn’t recognize, but one of them I did. I knew it wasn’t the man we were looking for, but, rather, his goons. The man I recognized, though, was one who frequented the club along with someone else. Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place.

  Four men were walking toward us, and I realized immediately that none of them were the man we had come to see, but just a few of his goons. I raked my eyes over the men and found that I actually recognized one of them. He was a man who had come into the club not so long ago, but, what was really interesting, was the fact that he’d come with someone else. I almost released a sound of surprise as the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. If this man worked for the same person who he’d gone to the club with, then that meant that Andres Romano, the man we were looking for, was the leader of the mafia, Christy’s favorite client, and the man I’d seen beat up Rossi a few weeks ago.

  “King DeLeon,” one called, as they approached. “I have heard many things.”

  “Where’s Romano? I asked to speak with him.”

  The men all let out knowing laughs.

  “You cannot just come here, waltz in, and think you can speak to Mr. Romano. We do not work that way here.”

  It didn’t surprise me that he would be so well-protected. I wondered what I had to do to be able to actually meet with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that it would be something easy, and I knew we were in for some trouble now. Hopefully I’d still be able to protect Christy, though.

  “If you want to meet with Mr. Romano, you will need to pass a test of s
orts.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that, and, apparently, neither did Christy, who was absently gripping one of my hands tightly in her own.

  One of the men step forward and began talking off his suit jacket, undoing his black tie, and rolling up the crisp, white sleeves of his shirt.

  “This is Bobby, one of our new prospects. Fight with him, and, if you win, you can meet with Mr. Romano. Simple?” The man spread his hands out to the side, in a gesture that seemed to imply I was lucky for a challenge so easy. I knew it would be harder than expected, though. I hadn’t trained for a fight in months—over a year even—and the last fight I’d been in had led me to passing out on the floor.