“To where?” Max questions, ready to jump into action. He reaches over to take my hand, preparing to run. It warms my heart to see just how naturally he reaches for me — like I’m second nature to him now, already. And it’s true. Being with him, following him around, being at his side… it all feels right. Like I’m supposed to be here, and my whole life has just been one long waiting period, the calm before a beautiful, impossible storm.
And I know what I’m doing is dangerous, and he doesn’t want me in the thick of it. Maybe being so close to death has made me more fearless, or maybe knowing that I need to save Maggie from an awful fate is what’s pushing me forward.
Or maybe it’s simply what I said to Max. I want to keep him safe, like he’s been keeping me safe.
“Don’t get too excited. I’ve got more bad news,” Felix quips, holding up one finger. “The phone must be dead. The signal disappeared while I was tracking it, so I can only assume it ran out of juice or someone caught on and turned the damn thing off. I have no idea where they went, Max. I’m sorry.”
For once, there’s no note of derision or sarcasm in his voice. Felix knows what a blow this is, how truly screwed we are now. Max looks down, his dark brows furrowed. I squeeze his hand gently, watching his face. Finally, he looks back up, takes a deep breath, and shrugs.
“Well, est' shto est'. We can’t stay here and wait on the off chance they’ll come back. Our best bet right now is just to go somewhere safe and wait for more information,” he says gravely.
“Where will we go? Back to the cottage in the country?” I ask, gazing up at Max.
He’s deep in thought. Felix and I wait patiently for him to answer.
Finally, he says, “No. I don’t want to go that far this time, just in case they’re closer to the city. I want to be ready. Besides, it’s late. We need to go somewhere to rest, and the cottage is a long drive from here. I’ll get us hotel rooms. You, too, Felix.”
“D’accord! We can spend the night strategizing! I’ve got an idea for —”
Max holds up his hand to stop him, shaking his head. There’s a slightly bemused smile pulling at his lips. “No, you’ll have your own room.”
Felix looks back and forth between the two of us, realization dawning on his face. He looks a little put-out, but he plays it off like it’s nothing. “Oh. Yeah, yeah. Bien sûr,” he quips, waving it off.
“How did you get here? Taxi?” Max asks, starting to head toward the exit. Felix and I stride after him, trying to keep up.
“Yeah.”
“Good. You’ll ride with us now to the hotel.”
“What hotel?”
Max’s face breaks into the first genuine, unabashed smile I’ve seen on his face for a while. He glances across at me, those bright green eyes flashing. “I think we’ve all had enough stress to warrant some, ah, more comfortable accommodations.”
Felix lights up. “Free Wi-Fi, I assume?”
“Bien sûr,” Max says, winking at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wink before. He’s trying to lighten the bleak mood that’s overtaken us, and as crestfallen as I am, I appreciate the gesture.
I can’t help but wonder where he’s taking us as we load into the car and drive away from the manor. Felix is chattering away in the backseat, trying to make small talk. It’s obvious that he’s kind of a lonely guy. I get the feeling he’s not used to having people around. I wonder what he does to pass the time these days, now that he’s not working at the school anymore. I turn around in the front passenger seat to face him.
“Felix, what do you do nowadays? I mean, where do you work?” I ask. He blinks at me in complete surprise, then warms to the subject immediately. Next to me in the driver’s seat Max is smiling, clearly pleased that I’m trying to make a connection with his friend. Felix may be weird and more than a little bit obnoxious, but I can tell he’s got a good heart.
“Oh, mostly work-from-home hacker stuff. People hire me to… investigate things. Look into their cheating spouse’s finances, check up on international business transactions, you know. Sensitive stuff, but nothing too top-secret,” he explains, trying to be nonchalant.
“That’s impressive,” I remark. “You’re pretty much a private investigator.”
The faintest blush colors his cheeks. “Yeah, basically. Gotta make a living somehow. Paris is not a cheap city to live in.”
“You wouldn’t change it for the world, though, would you?” I comment. Felix shakes his head incredulously.
“Saperlotte, no! This is the best city on the planet. Even if they raised my rent every single month, I would find a way to stay here,” Felix replies passionately. “I never belonged back in that boring little town where I grew up. This is my home.”
“And I guess now it’s mine, too,” I murmur, turning back around in my seat.
Max shoots me a slightly concerned glance at my shift in tone. I should know better than to try and hide anything from him. He picks up on my homesickness, the twinge of sorrow in my voice. I do love Paris — it’s beautiful and historic, it feels like living in a fairy-tale setting. But it’s still a foreign place to me. The streets don’t feel welcoming and familiar like they do back home in the tiny, quiet town of Toast.
It probably hurt my first impression to be kidnapped my first night here.
“To be fair, you haven’t really gotten the best impression of Paris so far,” Felix comments, reading my thoughts. It’s true. So far, I’ve been drugged, kidnapped, threatened, and my roommate has been stolen to who knows where. My whole life has been turned upside down.
“I hope my parents are okay. I-I’m scared that they’re worried about me,” I say quietly.
Max reaches across the console to take my hand. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve taken care of that,” he says, a little mysteriously.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
Felix pipes up, “Can I tell her?”
Max sighs and nods. “Go ahead.”
“So, we knew your parents would want to hear from you so they wouldn’t freak out and think something was wrong—”
“Because they would be right to think that,” I interject.
“Yeah,” Felix agrees, a little sheepishly. “So, basically, Max had me break into your phone to access your texts. I ran your outgoing messages through a style-simulation software I built and it basically learned how to emulate your way of speaking. Via text, of course.”
“Wait, what?” I stop him, totally bewildered at this point, both by the confusing explanation and the apparent invasion of privacy I had no awareness of until now.
“Okay. Let me break it down for you,” he says, and I choose to ignore the hint of unintentional condescension in his tone. “Everyone has their own way of talking. Everyone sounds a little different. And your parents know you better than anyone, so if I were going to send them messages, I needed them to sound totally convincing. So what I did was take a sample of the texts you sent in the past, run them through my style-copy program on my computer, and it learned how to essentially mimic you. So I’ve been texting your parents en secret, keeping them updated on how things would be going at school… if you were actually going.”
I sit in silence for a long moment, trying to work through how I should feel about this revelation. On the one hand, I’m a little miffed and offended at having my privacy so harshly intruded upon. After all, it kind of crosses a line to have Felix, a near stranger, impersonating me in conversations with my own parents whom he’s never met. But on the other hand, it’s nice to know that my parents have been kept totally out of the loop on this whole messy situation. The last thing I need is for them to worry about me. And knowing how overprotective my father is, he probably would have called the police, Interpol, and the President by now if he had even the slightest inclination to believe I’m in trouble. So really this is for the greater good. Even if it kind of sucks to have it happen this way.
“And you’re sure they don’t suspect a thing?” I ask slowly.
“They’re convinced it’s you talking to them. They’re hanging on your every fake text. What’s the phrase you Americans use? Hook, line, and sinker?” Felix says adamantly.
“Alright. Well, I can’t say I’m particularly enthused about having your computer pretend to be me, but still, if it keeps my parents from having an aneurysm worrying about me, I guess it’s okay,” I admit reluctantly.
“We’re here,” Max comments, changing the subject. I look out the window into the midnight darkness. The streetlights cast a fuzzy, romantic glow over the cobblestone streets and I crane my neck to look up at the gorgeous, pale building beside us, numerous open windows decorating its smooth face. I squinted to make out the golden letters flanked on either side by French flags which read Le Meurice.
“Merde,” Felix whispers, his eyes round and huge.
“I have a friend who works the concierge,” Max remarks. “I’ve convinced him to book a junior suite for you, Felix.”
“What about us?” I ask, turning to look at Max. He gives me a grin.
“We’re on the seventh floor. The Belle Etoile Suite,” he tells me. These words don’t mean much to me until we enter the lobby of the building and my jaw drops instantly.
This place is beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. Felix heads off to his own suite, nearly floating away down the hall, he’s so giddy. Max takes me by the hand and leads me up to the top floor, where our room is located.
“Max, this is amazing,” I breathe, turning in a slow circle to take in the vaulted ceilings, white carved panel walls, luxurious fabrics, monstrously-huge bed, vintage furniture, and balcony. As I walk toward the double doors which open to the outside, I notice that it isn’t just a balcony — it’s a full terrace, with a full view of the cityscape in all directions.
I feel a strong hand on my shoulder, Max’s thumb tracing a circle on the nape of my neck as we both step through the doors. Even though it’s warm outside, this far up there’s a lovely breeze that swirls around us, lifting my hair in playful tousles. We have a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the distance, the moon hanging like an antique lantern, casting a sepia glow over the sleeping city.
It’s beautiful, and I can feel tears of overwhelming emotion rising in my eyes. Despite the terror of the past several days, the danger both past and future — I can’t help but give in to the intense beauty of the moment. Everything is so still and quiet and calm up here, just the two of us pressed together under the starry sky.
And if I’d never been kidnapped, this never would’ve happened. I’d never have realized how much Max draws me in. I’d have been left with a stern instructor who was hiding so much inside, practicing every day and never experiencing this one, perfect moment.
“Thank you,” I mumble, leaning into Max’s side. His arm goes around me, pulling me closer as he bends to kiss the top of my head. I don’t understand how this happened so quickly, so easily, but the two of us together just fit. I should have suspected it from the first moment our eyes met over the banquet table, the way my entire body just tingled like some magical electricity had crackled between our shared gaze. I should have known it would happen. I should have seen this coming from a mile away, despite the age difference, the ocean in between that separated us from ever meeting until that fateful night in the least assuming town in North Carolina. I never really looked for love, and I know without even having to ask that Max has spent all his years pretending not to need it.
But love has found us, along with chaos and pain. I just hope that when this clash of uncertainty and fear has ended, we will emerge from it together. Looking up to meet Max’s expressive eyes, it occurs to me that despite the darkness we’re fumbling through now, I’m confident that love will overwhelm every battle we encounter.
Wordlessly, I fold into his arms, tip my head upward, and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him.
There’s such a silent beauty in the air, a sort of magic that I feel like Paris has been hiding for me since we arrived at that club that night. I feel like I’m getting myself back, finding that spark of excitement once more.
I’m finding what I’ve been missing in the arms of a killer.
22
Max
I hold Liv tightly, my hands caressing her, memorizing her curves and the sensation of her soft skin. I’ve never touched someone with such tenderness. For so long, I thought of my hands as weapons of death, never of pleasure.
I never allowed myself to believe that I could find someone that would see through all the darkness that makes me who I am, and still want to feel my skin on hers.
She looks so beautiful by the sparkling light of the moon and stars above us, and I walk her backwards towards one of the luxurious lounging chairs. I know that falling for her is something I should have resisted, but I couldn’t. Everything about her youth and vigor, the intelligence sparkling behind her eyes... It’s what I’ve always wanted and never deserved. She’s the person who can see the best in me, even at my worst, and when my teeth graze her throat, she moans for more.
I wonder if she always had this little desire for danger or if it’s something that’s changed in her since her life was nearly irreparably changed. I guess she doesn’t know either, and I don’t bother to ask. The silence overtakes us, and I don’t want to talk. I just want to listen to the sweet pants of her breath into the quiet night, and make her break that quiet with an orgasmic scream.
The thought makes me grin and my fingers go to her pants, quickly working them down. She still smells faintly of sex, and it makes my nostrils flare with appreciation as my fingers move to her slick pussy.
She’s so responsive, every touch making her sensitive body quiver, and when my mouth goes to her pussy, she bites down on her lower lip to keep from moaning. But I want her to moan. I want her completely unleashed on my tongue, and I reach up towards her jawline. My fingers trace it before going to her mouth, slowly guiding her lower lip from her teeth.
“This is a night for screaming,” I say, my voice already husky with desire as my cock throbs in my pants. But I need to taste her before I take her, and my tongue works its way back to her slit, running the full length of her pussy before my lips wrap around her clit and I gently suck.
Her eyes go wide and she gasps, and I can tell it’s almost too much for her. Almost, but not quite, so I pin her there and make her take that pleasure. It isn’t until she’s screaming and moaning, her hands batting at my face as her orgasm crashes over her and coats my jaw in her honey that I finally relinquish her.
And even then, she only gets a moment’s reprieve before my fingers go back to her clit, pressing down on that throbbing bud, massaging it as she cries out and squirms.
With my free hand, I push up her top, revealing her bare tits, love bites having left their mark on her nipple where I sucked. I can’t help but smile, and I bring my mouth back to that same place, my tongue flicking the nipple and making it stiffen instantly.
Her little pink areola swells with her arousal, and as I rub her clit, my mouth works against her tiny chest.
Liv cries out in pleasure, and her body twists away from me, so I remove my hand from her clit and give her a warning glance.
“You’ll stay still if you want to be a good girl,” I say with just a hint of teasing behind my dark words. I remember how she responded when I first met her, so eager to please, and the memory makes my cock jump as she quickly stills.
“I’ll be good,” she promises, her breathing so heavy that her voice comes out as a tiny wisp on each breath. “Whatever you want.”
I smile in reward and bring my hand back to her clit, massaging it in a circular motion as I look down on her, so vulnerable and beautiful in the midnight light.
“I want you to come on my hand. And then I want to know what your little lips feel like spread around my cock.”
She doesn’t shy away from the dirty words, and her eyes flash with excitement before I bring my lips back to her nipple, my teeth grabbing it
and tugging upon it. I let it snap back to her chest before I repeat the motion, my fingers working their way into her pussy as my thumb keeps rubbing her pulsing bud.
With the stars sparkling overhead and all of Paris resting quietly seven stories below, I work her body with perfect harmony. I notice every time she jolts, every quick inhale of breath, and I memorize them, then repeat the motions that brought those dulcet sounds to her lips. It doesn’t take long before I learn her perfect tempo, the one that brings her body crashing down around me, her pussy clenching my fingers so tightly as she screams into the night sky, breaking the serenity of the evening with an even more wonderful sound.
As she comes down from her high, I can see she’s a bit embarrassed at having lost such control, but I push my mouth against hers and silence those fears. After what she’s been through, she deserves to lose control and really feel happy and good.
That’s why, seconds later, I stand and straddle the lounge chair, and her on it, my throbbing cock bobbing just inches from her face. She stares at it, then me, skeptically and just when I think she’s going to shyly back down, she instead reaches for me.
Still, she pauses. “I’ve never—”.
“I know,” I interrupt her, and bring my hand to the back of her head. “Just open your mouth, and let your tongue fall over your teeth.” She’s so obedient, and her eyes twinkle in the dim light, excitement and relief mingling there.
“Hold onto the base. Firmer than that. You won’t hurt me,” I promise, and my lip twitches with a smirk. “Now bring your mouth to me.”
It’s amateurish, but when her sweet little tongue darts out and runs along my head, collecting the precum there, it ignites something in me. I’ve never had a person so intent on pleasing me like her, and certainly never someone who knew what I was capable of.
And within a few minutes, and a few more simple instructions, her head is bobbing up and down my cock like a pro. I taught her just how I like it, and several times she nearly made me buckle over in pleasure, but I hold it back.
Hitman - the Series: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Collection (Alexis Abbott's Hitmen #0) Page 69
