“He hired you on this short notice?”
“No, it had been a week ago, but he told me to wait and study you.”
“I’ve never noticed you around me.”
“I followed you here. Sat outside when you were saying your vows. I’ve been around you the whole time.”
Miles’ head was spinning. It was hard for him to comprehend that this man had been tracking him for a week without him noticing. He didn’t want to believe it, but he knew the man must have been telling the truth.
“Brentwood? What’s the address?”
“I can’t tell you that, he’ll kill me.”
“I’m going to kill you if you don’t tell me.”
The man began to cry and rock back and forth in the chair which he was still tied tightly to. He gave up the address and begged for his life, but Miles knew there was no getting rid of this mess with any loose ends not being taken care of. He told Alexandra to go into the bedroom, but after pleading with her, she refused.
“You’re not going to like this,” he said, “I’m warning you, honey.”
“I need to see this. I need to see what you’re capable of.”
Miles stared at her longingly, as if silently begging her to look away. But she wouldn’t. As the man writhed on the chair, Miles reached into the briefcase and pulled out a dagger. He walked slowly behind the chair and gripped the man by the face, covering his mouth to soften his cries. Then he penetrated his chest with the tip of the knife, and slid the entire blade inside of him. The man’s mouth opened and he tried biting at Miles for a brief second, but then he quit moving.
He was dead.
Alexandra watched as her husband wiped the blood from the blade on the man’s pants. She watched as her husband placed the knife back into the briefcase. She watched as her husband untied the man and began to place him in a trash bag. She watched as he carefully cleaned the blood from the floor. She watched as he stuffed the man into a large suitcase he’d emptied, and she watched as he rolled the luggage out the door to dispose of the body.
TEN
The honeymoon went as planned, despite the horror fest that had occurred in their suite. Their flight landed in the wee hours of the morning and they were escorted to their resort in a limousine. The murder wasn’t discussed again, until they lay in bed that morning. Alexandra couldn’t take her mind off of it. She couldn’t believe she was married to a man so capable of violence, murder, and anger.
But he’d never shown signs of anger to her. Cocky, sure, arrogant, yes. But angry? Never. In fact he was quite the opposite. He was always calm, self-assured, and sweet to her. He didn’t seem to have a massive ego despite his success, and you’d have never known him to be capable of brutal murder if you knew him. And yet, despite all that… She found herself oddly aroused at how far he’d taken it. She found herself feeling safe and protected around him. He didn’t back down, he went all the way.
He took the man and stabbed him through the heart after he’d been threatened by him – after she in turn had also been threatened by him. He was a man’s man, but she knew now more than ever that he was hiding his occupation. He’d volunteered to tell her, and had even wanted to tell her on more than one occasion – but she wouldn’t have it. She preferred not knowing, until now. She was ready. She felt like she already had an idea, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure.
They lay in bed and looked out the back balcony. The stars were full in the sky, along with the moon. It cast an illuminating glow onto the water. It was a gorgeous place, but Alexandra felt she wasn’t fully enjoying it because of all the violence she’d just encountered – she’d never seen anything so brutal, not even in a film. His calm expression as he murdered the man was that of a professional; one who did this quite often.
“I’m ready to know what it is exactly that you do,” she said finally.
He sighed and nodded, “I know you are, and I’m glad. I’ve wanted to tell you from day one.”
“So what is it? Are you a killer.”
“Yes, I’m an assassin.”
She paused, gulped, “For who?”
“For the high-ups in society who hire me. The ones who I know are safe to do business with. I don’t take any old job. I only work with people who are very powerful and influential. People like the man who double crossed me and put a hit on me.”
“Who do you kill?”
“I choose not to know them. I don’t know more than a few things about them before I take them out, and after I take them out I quickly forget those few things that I did know. I prefer it that way. It keeps me sane.”
“I’d lose my mind,” Alexandra said.
“Is this a game changer for you?”
She paused a beat, “No. When I saw how much of a protector you are today… What you’ll do to ensure my safety and well-being, well… I have to say, it made me feel so safe. I feel like you’ll always protect me.”
“You’re right. I always will,” Miles said.
“I want you to make love to me. I don’t want you to fuck me. I want you to love me.”
“I don’t do that,” he said.
“Do it for me.”
He rolled onto her, clamping his hands over her wrists. He held her there firmly and ran his tongue down her neck to her breasts. He sucked on them tightly as he massaged her pussy, and then he let his tongue slide down her torso to her shaved pussy. He stroked her clit with the tip of his tongue and then spread her legs and ate her pussy so good that it made her come. She slung her head back and let out a yelp of pleasure, and then was silent as the orgasm passed.
“You like that?” He asked, “I’m making love to you…”
His tongue slipped back into her pussy and he swirled it around the gorgeous wet pink, and then he slid his tongue back up her torso to her neck, which he sucked on lightly. His big, throbbing cock slipped inside of her pussy and she groaned with pleasure as he slowly made love to her. His cock pulsated within the tight walls of her cunt and she moaned happily as he barreled back and forth, in and out of her sweet tightness.
“Baby…” he moaned
“Oh, Miles… Oh, god yes…”
He thrust harder and then held himself – burrowed inside of her pussy balls deep. He throbbed within her; his bare and unprotected cock feeling so magical within her tightness. There was no point in protection at this point… She was already bearing his seed. He pulled out and rammed into her savagely and she yelped and flailed her arms.
“You see,” he said, “You don’t like love-making. You like fucking…”
She succumbed to him, “I guess you’re right… Keep thrusting…”
Miles began to fuck her intensely. Love making wasn’t for him, and he knew it wasn’t for her either. Fucking was what he liked, which is why he was ramming himself in and out of her. He’d never been with a woman who made him feel this way. Before he met her he’d have laughed in a girl’s face if she’d asked him about getting married. But this one hadn’t even asked; he’d merely proposed and she said yes… Proposal to him was always something that seemed alien. He never understood why someone would get married, but he’d never known true love.
Now he knew.
He pulled his throbbing cock from within her vaginal walls and flipped her on her side. Biting her shoulder teasingly, he slipped back inside of her and spread her gorgeous ass cheeks apart as he barreled into her pussy. He was so big; the biggest Alexandra had ever had by far… And she loved his big cock as it stretched her open.
Miles wasn’t focused on the fact that he was a human target. He wasn’t focused on the fact that his life was under fire. He wasn’t focused on the fact that he might be killed when they landed back on Los Angeles soil. He was in the moment; zen. He was at peace; in pure sexual bliss. He fucked his newlywed wife for a good ten minutes until he emptied himself inside of her.
Gasping for air, the orgasm seemed to be never ending. His cum shot was fierce and heavy, and he remained inside of her until he was cert
ain he’d finished. Pulling out, he spanked her bottom teasingly and leaned down to kiss her cheek, “I love you,” he said.
“I love you more,” Alexandra said playfully.
They fell asleep.
ELEVEN
Miles made a phone call later in the afternoon as he took a stroll on the beach. Alexandra was still sleeping. He planned to go wake her up soon, to see if she wanted to swim with him. The beach was mostly deserted; their resort had been insanely expensive and only available to the very wealthy, and it was off season so not many tourists were here. So Miles had the beach to himself at that moment, save for a few people snorkeling off in the distance. He looked out at the gorgeous waves as he dialed the number, and he wondered briefly why he’d let himself get into this profession.
He didn’t know where he’d gone wrong. He was a good marine. But his flip had switched at some point, and he’d gone haywire for a while. Then his mind settled and he returned to California where he settled in Malibu. But there was still something off, of course – otherwise he’d have never gone into the hitman profession. He hated feeling like he had to compare himself with the sleazy men who called themselves assassin’s for a mere four figures. Miles had only ever operated for six figures and up, but he recognized that he’d gotten lucky.
In the early days of his career it was rare for someone with no resume or credentials to get such a hefty first paycheck. He could have easily gotten many clients willing to pay him a low four figures, like two thousand for a head – but Miles knew he had to set his standards higher from the get go, to afford the kind of luxury lifestyle he desired.
He had the sniper credentials, which helped him, and after the first client, many more came. Word got out in secret societies that Miles was the man to go to, and so they did – and his fortune built up rather quickly, along with his novel sales. Miles stared out at the ocean and listened to the phone ring six times. He almost hung up, and then the voice answered.
He’d dialed using star sixty nine, so that his call couldn’t be traced. The voice was husky and deep, and he recognized it as Gulliver Jones.
“Brent? Is that you?”
Miles said nothing.
“Is it done?” The voice asked hoarsely.
“Hello, Gulliver.”
There was a long pause, followed by a nervous laugh, “Miles, is that you? Hell, what a coincidence. I was going to call you today about a job I have. Competitor who’s taking my-”
“I don’t need to know the details, Gully. I never do. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be taking this job of yours. I’m coming for you, Gulliver, and this a little heads up. A warning, if you will. You see, I didn’t want to just storm into your house and blow your brains out… No, that would be too easy. I wanted to make it somewhat of a challenge for me, because I think we both know I like challenges. I like the thrill of the hunt, and the satisfaction of the kill thereafter. So here it is, buddy, from one colleague to another – you’ve been warned.”
He hung up the phone and then placed it in his pocket. He stared out at the tide and took a deep breath. When this honeymoon was over, he’d be going back to Los Angeles, and he’d have his biggest job yet. He didn’t know if warning Gulliver had been a good idea, but it did guarantee him some safety in the beginning. Gulliver knew that he knew, and he’d be scared. He’d probably back off, and not send anyone to get Miles. What he’d do instead was have his house guarded at all times. He’d wait for Miles, and then he’d let his men take him down once he arrived.
Miles knew this, and he smiled while thinking about it. It was going to feel wonderful to put the tip of his handgun next to Gulliver’s temple and pull the trigger. He anticipated the sound of the gunshot and the blood splatter that came simultaneously – but above all, he anticipated the thrilling feeling of when he walked into the room after disarming and taking out Gully’s guards… The expression Gulliver would wear on his face would be absolutely priceless.
His vicious thoughts of revenge vanished when he heard Alexandra close the patio door. He turned and watched her come slowly toward him from the balcony steps. She stepped out onto the sand and reached him, taking his muscular arm in her hands and hugging him tightly, “I was so tired,” she said.
“I was too, just woke up.”
“Can I get a kiss?” She smiled.
“Always.” Miles leaned down and kissed her, and his thoughts of revenge took a backseat in his mind.
TWELVE
When they got back to L.A. they went to the house in Malibu, which Miles now shared with his wife. Life was good for the first half of the day, and then Miles went to work. After putting on his usual coat and long cargo pants, he drove Alexandra to her old apartment and told her to wait until he picked her up. She was still paying rent for the remainder of the lease, which was two more months.
She looked worried, and almost shed a tear, “Where are you going?” She asked.
“I just have some things to clear up. It will be okay, I promise,” he said.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m a man of rules, remember? And a promise isn’t something I break.”
He drove to the Brentwood home of Gulliver Jones, his briefcase now sitting in the passenger seat. He parked on the outskirts of the community and reached for the briefcase. The sun was setting and he waited for thirty minutes until it was fully dark. He opened the briefcase and grabbed the sets of grenades, which he fastened to the hooks he’d designed on the inner lining of his leather jacket. He grabbed his reliable pistol and placed it in its holster. He reached back into the backseat and flipped a switch which raised the seat cushions – an intricate project he’d worked on for four months which perfectly concealed his weapons if need be. He grabbed an assault rifle out from beneath the seat and then lowered the cushions back down until they snapped into place.
Then he stepped out of the car and looked around. Lights were on in all the houses, most people seemed to be home. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and began to walk through some brush and backyards, careful to stay out of view from the residents. He hunkered down low as he approached Gulliver Jones’ mansion, crawling on his hands and knees. He made his way past the barricade which he climbed over and fell down flat onto his hands and knees. He looked up toward the house and saw that the lights were on.
It was probably a trap. Men would typically be sitting on the back porch, but there was no one. No one hiding in the trees, no one waiting to burst around the corner and pump him full of led. There was nothing there. Miles knew the men would be inside. He carefully continued to crawl towards the house. The rifle was still over his shoulder and he climbed slowly until he got to the back porch. From there, he climbed beneath the flooring through mud and a makeshift home of a raccoon family.
He was already filthy from the crawling, and when he reached the window that looked into the basement he could see a set of four armed men sitting on a couch and watching television. It was Gulliver’s entertainment room; lavishly decked out in red velvet flooring and black walls. There was a pool table, a projector which screened films, a ping pong table, and an indoor swimming pool.
If four of the men were sitting down here, seemingly lazy and watching television, then there must be some upstairs actually guarding Gulliver. Miles crawled out from beneath the porch and went around the edge of the building where he hastily hopped up into the air and grabbed hold of a column that led to a section of the roofing. He shimmied up quickly with the skill of a professional and then got onto the roof and crawled extremely slowly.
He glanced at once through the window of the house. It was a bedroom, and it was empty. He crawled further down the roofing until he reached another window, which looked out onto the hardwood flooring of a hallway that led eventually to a staircase. Miles knew the house fairly well, as he’d been here a few times in the past – but it had been a while and his memory was somewhat rusty. He knew that the main level of the house had the usual rooms. There was a kitchen, a dining roo
m, and a living room. There was also a small office with a computer and a desk with filing cabinets behind it. Miles began to try and pry open the windowsill when an alarm began to blare.
“Fuck.”
The siren was loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood, but it was quickly shut off. The men knew what they were doing, as did Gulliver. They didn’t want attention; the brief sounding of the alarm was all they needed to know that Miles had arrived, and they certainly didn’t want the police to show up. Miles was probably speaking to a security officer from the security company at that very moment, assuring them that he’d accidentally opened the door with his alarm set.
Miles kicked through the glass of the window and jumped inside. He burst down the hallway and spotted two men coming for him from downstairs. As they made their way up the steps, they fired their automatic weapons. Miles ducked down and landed flat on his stomach, aiming the rifle through the spokes in the stair railing and firing. A stream of automatic shots pierced the hardwood flooring of the steps, along with the chests of the two men. Miles continued to let the bullets rain down all around the downstairs as he flailed the rifle’s barrel back and forth. He was screaming as he did so.
After a minute, he pulled the gun away and peered down. The two men lay on their stomach and back, both of them soaked with blood and ridden with bullet holes. They were as good as dead, but Miles knew there were more coming from the basement, and they came very quickly.
“Put the gun down,” one of them bellowed. As if.
Instead, Miles positioned the assault rifle back through the spokes of the railing and opened fire. He was met with fire from them as well, and bullets burst through the drywall and missed him by inches. His finger was held firmly on the trigger as he let the bullets twist and turn through the downstairs foyer, and he heard sounds of screams and groans through the rapid fire.
Miles loosened his grip from the trigger and waited. And then, footsteps. He pressed the trigger again, aiming blindly for the staircase until he realized he was out of ammunition. Quickly dropping the rifle to the ground floor he reached for his pistol and grabbed it from its holster. Spinning into position, he met the man as he reached the top of the staircase with a bullet to the neck. The man gripped down on the trigger of his machine gun as he fell backwards and bullets flew past Miles until he fell through the broken railing and onto the ground floor.
Assassin's Baby (A Bad Boy Romance) Page 5
