Assassin's Mark

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Assassin's Mark Page 15

by Ella Sheridan


  I didn’t care. For once I was going to follow my instincts with him instead of playing it safe. So I eased right up to him, and this time it was my hands cupping his dust-smeared cheeks. I curved my fingers around his jaw to tug his face up. His eyes shot to mine.

  “Thank you.”

  He started to speak—to say what, I don’t know; Levi didn’t seem like a you’re welcome kind of guy. But before the words escaped, he abandoned them for a hard, quick kiss.

  And was out the door before my eyelids could flutter shut.

  Okay, then…

  There wasn’t much to explore. In the small bedroom, almost completely taken up with a full-size bed and small chest of drawers, I grabbed the smallest pair of sweatpants I could find and an old Atlanta Braves T-shirt that would swallow me whole, and scooted into the bathroom. The sight that met me in the mirror sent a jolt through me. Dust covered my hair, smudged my face, my clothes. Across the front of my shirt, a spray of red droplets caught my attention. Blood. A sudden flash of Axe holding the gun on me, Levi’s shot, a spray of red from the man’s neck, hit me hard, making my stomach turn over. I snatched the shirt over my head and threw it into the tiny trash can before the turning over became something else altogether.

  The sink was too tiny to wash my jeans, so I put them in a corner for later and focused on my underwear. When they’d been washed and wrung out, hanging on the towel rack, I climbed into the tub, turned the water as hot as I could stand it, and flipped the spray on. Thank God for good water pressure.

  I didn’t hear Levi return, but I felt him. Funny how that worked. It was as if he charged the molecules in the air around him, sending off a signal the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck picked up the minute he walked into a room. My skin became sensitive in an instant, my belly clenched, and that most secret part of me heated. Rivulets of water streamed over my budding nipples, teasing them, mimicking the trace of Levi’s tongue.

  My reaction was insane—I’d almost been killed, seen someone die for the first time, and here I was, what? Lusting after a killer?

  That’s exactly what I was doing. And for once, I refused to feel guilty about it.

  I cleared my throat as quietly as I could. “Coming in?”

  The question hung for a moment in the air; then came the rustle of clothing, the thunk of boots—one, two—hitting the floor. I kept my back turned when Levi climbed in behind me, but couldn’t resist a peek over my shoulder.

  He looked grim. My heart tripped.

  “Are your brothers okay?” Please don’t let them have been hit too.

  Levi’s hands landed on my tense shoulders, giving them a squeeze, then shifted down my back to my hips, meandering, almost as if his fingers couldn’t resist the feel of my skin. A cool chill followed his sigh as the air hit my spine. “They’re fine. Safe.”

  A little of my tension left me. Levi stepped close to my back, his palms sliding around my hips to settle low on my belly, and a new kind of tension took over. “And Leah?” I’d forgotten to ask about her in the chaos of the past few hours.

  “She should be back with her daughter by now.”

  I covered his hands with mine and pressed them into me. “You’re a good man, Levi.”

  The statement startled us both, but as it settled between us, I realized I truly believed it. Had we met under the best circumstances? No. Had Levi’s actions been justified? Oddly enough, I couldn’t answer an unequivocal no to that one. If my sibling had been targeted, revenge might’ve looked like a good option to me too.

  What he’d done had hurt, but if it had led me here, to this moment, to this feeling, would I have chosen another path?

  No.

  “Don’t make that mistake, Abby.”

  I swallowed hard. “What mistake?”

  “Thinking I’m good.”

  A chuckle hiccuped in my throat. “Levi…” How could I explain this to him when I was only beginning to understand it myself? I thought hard for a moment. “My first boyfriend tried to take me to bed. I was sixteen, but I knew something wasn’t quite right about him. When I refused, he took great pleasure in telling me how my father had paid him to date me, how the money wasn’t enough to put up with a cock tease. Ever since—” My laugh came out this time, but strained. There was nothing I could do about that. “If I’d been someone else, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered so much, but I’m not, and I couldn’t trust anyone to be genuine. They were all connected to Derrick in some way, you know?”

  I threaded my fingers through his against my belly, mimicking the connection I sensed between us every time he came near me.

  “So am I.”

  “You are, aren’t you?” I pressed our hands into my stomach until it felt like the imprint would be there forever. “But you’re not like them. Like him.”

  Levi brushed his body against my back, the move at once sensual and threatening. His breath whispered in my ear. “I’m just like Derrick. Just because I took your virginity doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you to get to him.”

  Why would I expect anything else? Because of this, I wanted to say, clenching his fingers between mine. The connection of our bodies, deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before. But the feeling was the problem, wasn’t it?

  “No, of course not.” I untangled my hands and reached for the soap. “I don’t expect you to feel anything, Levi. That’s who you are, Mr. Ice. We wouldn’t want emotions to bother you in your complicated killer world, right?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Levi gripped my waist hard, jerking me around so fast I almost slipped. The soap skidded from my hand to zip around the bathtub, but we both ignored it as Levi used his big body to press me into the wall. His hand spanned my throat, squeezing lightly. I’d accused him of being emotionless, but emotions seeped through his fingers, through the gray eyes boring into mine. “Look at me, Abby. Really look. Not with some rose-colored glasses and Disney princess ideas. I’m not some fairy-tale prince. And your hymen didn’t contain any magic that will turn me into one.”

  I looked; I truly did. But what I saw wasn’t the cold assassin who’d shot down six men earlier. No, I saw desperation in his eyes. Who was he trying to convince, him or me?

  Levi’s grip tightened, his gaze hazing over as he looked at something I couldn’t see. “I killed my first man at twelve years old. Twelve. We’d been on the streets a year, me, Remi, and Eli.” His thumb raked up my jugular, back down. “The man deserved it, trying to lure Remi off alone. When I stepped in, he didn't like it, but that was okay because he didn't feel that way for long. He didn't feel anything for long, and after that, neither did I.”

  Pain zinged through my windpipe, and a whimper escaped.

  Levi swallowed hard, that distant look still in his eyes. “That’s who I am,” he whispered hoarsely.

  I covered his hand with mine, allowed the hard tips of my nipples to brush across his belly. A tingle swept through my body, but it was the hard push of his erection against my thigh that I wanted. That I got. “That’s who life forced you to be. But it’s not all that you are.”

  The planes of his face turned granite hard at my words. With his hand at my throat, Levi lifted me off my feet, sliding me up the wall until our bodies aligned perfectly. My knees went to his hips automatically, seeking purchase, security, and he took advantage, slamming home deep inside me in a single hard thrust. Proving his point. Taking instead of giving. Except…

  My body was already wet, soft, hot. Welcoming. The instant he realized it, he groaned. His mouth went to my neck, his hands to my ass, and then he was taking me with abandon, sinking deep, sliding out, over and over to the chorus of our moans and cries and the wet slap of our bodies. The angle slammed his pelvis against my clit with every thrust. Seconds was all it took for my body to seize around his, the powerful contractions pulling him along with me until we both slumped against the shower wall, survivors of a shipwreck we hadn’t seen coming and still couldn’t quite comprehend. All we could do was hold
each other tight in the aftermath.

  When Levi softened enough that he slipped out of me, it seemed to wake him up. Hands holding me tight as if worried I would fall, he stepped into the spray of the water and closed his eyes, let the flood cover him for the longest moment. When they opened, the steel had softened to storm clouds and rain.

  He pulled me fully under the water. Ran his hands over me. Stared deep into my eyes. “You’ll end up getting hurt, little bird.”

  I stared right back, and knew, in that moment, that I was strong. Right here, right now. Levi might have the muscles and the fighting skills and the weapons, but when it came to emotions, he saw only fear. Or anger. I knew what I was feeling, recognized it—and when it came to him, I savored it. Whatever the future brought, I had this moment, with this man. And I wasn’t about to waste it.

  “That’s nothing new, Levi. But sometimes the hurt is worth it.”

  I reached for him. Cupping his face earlier had felt odd, tentative, like I was trespassing on sacred ground. This time I stepped out as if I owned that ground—my hands landed on his chest, smoothing down the slick hills and valleys of his body, memorizing the man through my fingertips. His eyes heated again the lower I went and, when I reached the thick swell of his semi-erect penis? Hot, flaming inferno.

  Holding his weight in my hands felt surreal. I traced his length, from the wide mushroom tip to the rapidly tightening shaft, long enough to reach deep inside me. I could still feel it, the impact of his body inside mine. He’d carved out a space for himself in a way that had seemed impossible a week ago. The base of his erection was thicker, the soft skin of his sac drawn up as if it could hurry his semen toward its release. When I cradled it, my fingertips pressed just behind, and Levi made a sound deep in his throat that told me exactly what that small pressure did to him.

  I couldn’t help it; I smiled. Levi traced the curve with a fingertip, his gaze unreadable.

  “Think you’re pretty smart there, don’t you, little bird?”

  I shook my head—I didn’t have enough ego for that. “No, not smart.” With one hand I slid up his length again, then down, fascinated as his eyes lost focus, this time not in a horrible memory of the past, but in the pleasure I could give him. I brought my free hand to his face, traced the rugged stubble along his cheek, the full slope of his bottom lip. So many textures. So much I needed to feel. “This isn’t smart, Levi. This is just instinct.” And maybe something special. I wouldn’t say it aloud, but I could feel it, bringing tears to my eyes and an ache to my heart. Something very special.

  Levi nipped my finger as it traveled back the way it had come. “Let me show you my instincts.”

  There was no time to agree or disagree. The words left his mouth, and he had me out of the shower the next instant. The towel he used was rough, unrefined, but he smoothed it over my skin like butter, a look of fierce concentration on his face as he searched out every droplet, every crease and fold. The anger when he’d first entered the shower had been replaced by determination—to do what? Pleasure me? Maybe find pleasure for himself?

  But no, he’d done that against the shower wall, and I didn’t think he believed any more than I did that this could be mutually exclusive. Not after the full-body orgasm we’d shared.

  The full-size bed wasn’t quite long enough for Levi’s length, but he stretched me out, from one corner to the opposite, and crawled over me anyway. A growl escaped him as he gathered my arms and locked them above my head, his stare searing me as it took in my bared body. He started at my neck, every lick and scrape of his teeth and gentle suck pooling liquid heat in my core. I pushed up on my heels, needing more, needing him to devour me, consume me until all I knew was him.

  Levi didn’t waver. He seemed absorbed with the texture of my skin, the rising slopes, the hard, jutting tips, the long slides into the valleys. When his mouth surrounded one straining nipple and he drew on me, a small scream escaped. I couldn’t get close enough, press hard enough for the satisfaction I suddenly needed now, immediately. My body craved the peak, and…

  “Levi!”

  “Shhhh,” he whispered against my breastbone, his stubble rasping the mounds on each side. “Anticipation, remember?”

  A curse bit through the air as I realized what he really meant: torture. My core cramped with denial. “Damn it, Levi!”

  He rubbed his chin along the underside of one breast, up to my aching tip. The scrape of his almost beard shot waves of acute pleasure through me. I arched closer again.

  His chuckle held a touch of pure evil.

  I tugged on my hands, and surprisingly he let me go. Probably so he could grab my ass, which he promptly did. His massive hands cupped me, kneaded me, his fingertips brushing the sensitive folds between my legs. I speared my fingers through the rich lengths of his dark hair and urged his mouth toward mine, urged him to take me, complete me in a way I’d never discovered with another human being.

  Levi levered himself over me. Nudged my legs apart. Aligning our bodies, he wasted no time pushing close, his hips seeming impossibly wide, even after all this time. Cool air tingled along the cream coating my core, and then he was inside me.

  His hips weren’t the only thing that was still impossibly wide. My body was swollen, tight. I tilted my head back and panted, waiting for the deadlock grip to ease. Levi’s mouth at my nipples helped—he moved from one to the other, sucking, biting, rubbing his lips and sandpaper stubble over the sensitive buds. Within minutes I was trying to climb him, crying out, begging for him to move, to give me what I needed, make this torture stop.

  One hard push into my body was all it took to detonate the bomb waiting inside me.

  Levi didn’t stop. Thrust after thrust after thrust drove through my contractions, setting off mini explosions that tied my lower belly into knots. When I could finally open my eyes, that steel-gray determination stared back at me. Levi chased his pleasure as much as mine. Pushed into me until I felt bruised. And when he finally reach the agonizing peak and completion shook him off his knees, I cradled his body close between my legs, against my belly and breasts and neck, convinced that nothing else I would ever experience, in my entire life, could possibly compare to the power of us, joined so tightly together that we became one. I never wanted to let go—of him, of this. So I didn’t; I simply drifted to sleep with Levi in my arms.

  I hadn’t slept that hard or that deeply since the night he drugged me. Sometime in the darkest part of the night, I woke to Levi behind me, inside me, his fingers on my clit, but even the slow roll of orgasm couldn’t keep me awake after the long, exhausting day. Tomorrow could take care of itself. Tonight, I had all I needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The silence between us was uneasy the next day. Levi exuded confidence in everything he did—except emotions. I knew that now. Killing someone? No problem. Admitting you cared about someone? Another thing altogether.

  The pancakes Levi had run out for earlier—apparently my hit man had an affinity for pancakes—were almost gone when his phone buzzed across the little card table’s padded surface. Levi glanced at the screen, set down the plastic spork that came with breakfast, and answered.

  “Just a minute, bro.” Placing the phone back on the table, he switched the call to speakerphone. One tap on the screen, but the gesture eased something wound too tight in my chest this morning. Levi might not be able to say the words, but he trusted me. Letting me hear his conversation with his brothers proved it.

  “Whatcha got?” he asked as he sporked up his last bite.

  It was Eli who answered. “Good morning to you too, asshole.”

  Levi grunted, but I could see a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “You are such a girl. How’s Remi?”

  A rough clearing of a throat came across the line, then Remi’s gravelly voice. “I’m fine.”

  I rolled my eyes. The man had been concussed, comatose, shot, and still considered himself fine. Apparently anything else was being a girl. Neanderthals. I swal
lowed the last of my coffee, trying to hide my amusement.

  Levi was frowning. “Keep that dressing changed like Leah showed you, Eli. Don’t—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Now on to other things.”

  Levi scrubbed a hand over his face. My grin peeked out whether I wanted it to or not. Levi’s laser gaze pinned me as he gripped his jaw. “What’s so funny?”

  “How alike you are.” I didn’t bother trying to stifle a laugh.

  His eyes dropped to my mouth, heating suddenly. “Keep laughing, little bird. You’re just racking up points for later.”

  Oh really? I raised a brow. “Points for what?”

  “Punishment.”

  My cheeks went hot.

  “We’ve got business to take care of. Can you two play sex games on your own time?” Eli asked, voice rough with impatience and maybe a hint of embarrassment. I guess seeing Levi with a girlfriend wasn’t normal.

  I choked. Not a girlfriend. Not a girlfriend. Remember that, Abby.

  Anyway… Eli was the one who’d started the touchy-feely stuff, but I decided not to point that out. Watching Levi choke over his brother saying sex games was satisfaction enough.

  “Get on with it,” Remi told them. Eli followed his brother’s lead.

  “Fine. While you’ve been playing—or whatever—I dug up the intel you wanted on Anthony Clark.”

  I dropped my face into my hand, wondering if I was going to survive the three of them together. Levi by himself was so much easier to deal with.

  “A trucker,” Eli was saying. “No ties that we could find to Derrick Roslyn. Parents both deceased. Uneventful stint in the army—”

  “Get to something we don’t know, Eli.”

  I didn’t know any of it, but I doubted they’d meant to include me. At least one lightbulb had lit up in my brain. They were discussing the mark, the man who had been the catalyst for everything that had happened to me. But what did Anthony Clark, a man I’d never heard of, have to do with my life?

 

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