by A. J. Macey
Ten minutes of discussion later after we finally got back on topic, we had our plan settled.
April 20th
Saturday Night
Kiera
Checking once more, I assured myself that we had everything we needed for the job. Chase’s bag held binoculars, his extra ammo, rope, and some other miscellaneous items, while my thigh holster bag had my lock picks, an extra pair of gloves, one of my multiple fake IDs, and some cash. My night vision goggles were lying neatly on top, the band tightened to the proper amount so it wouldn’t slide around over my hat which was situated next to my stuff. I mentally ran through the plan for the fifth time in the last few minutes looking for any potential issues or holes in our main scheme or backups options.
Chase was securing his holster straps to his chest and belt, his light brown hair messily combed to the side of his forehead. His jaw was covered in a dark blond layer of scruff, muscles flexing under his black shirt. His playful attitude sparkled inside his eyes despite his stoic expression. My mind flit back to when I first met Chase over half a year ago.
My beer bottle bit into my palm with how cold it was, the refrigerator set to near freezing temperatures. Kicking the stainless steel door shut, I made my way into the large living space flopping ungracefully onto the dark brown leather sofa. The TV volume was quiet, not really in the mood to fully pay attention to the cooking show I had thrown on. A sharp, staccato buzz accompanied a high-pitched squeal sending me into action. The alarm only tripped when someone broke in or was on the property without permission. I took my security very seriously.
You kind of have to when there’s a list a mile long of people who want your head on a spike.
Yanking my Glock from the holster, I grabbed a spare magazine and tucked it in the waistband of my lounge shorts. I turned down the main hallway toward the security room and came face to face with one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen, his tall body standing still fifteen feet away from me. His face was uncovered revealing steel-grey eyes, a jaw full of scruff, and a head of either light brown or blond hair. The lighting in the hall was dimmed making it hard to identify his features. The one thing that didn’t match his stoic body language was the small smile that curled his lips.
We stood staring at each other for a few silent moments, assessing, eyeing, and plotting our next moves. Out of the blue, I bolted to the right down the side hall next to me, and his hand raised at the same time. A loud crack sounded as he attempted to shoot me, his silencer dulling the ear-splitting sound of his gun only just; my ears still continued to ring ever so slightly as I ran. His near silent footsteps followed me down the hall.
“Oh, Kiera,” he sang out, taunting like a cat cornering a mouse. The irony of the comparison was not lost on me since I was The Cat.
I snarled. I’m definitely not the fucking mouse. The light, cheerful tone of his taunt gave me pause as I waited at the edge of the hall around the corner. If he thinks I’m going to run away or lie down and give it up, he’s got another thing coming. I steeled my spine in anticipation of his attack, a small smirk tilting my lips. His black gloved hand curled around the edge of the wall, his silver gun glinting in the low light. Grabbing his hand, I delivered two swift punches, one to his stomach and one to his face. The butt of my gun added an extra oomph to the hits.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t as stunned as most people would have been and was able to wrestle his hand away from me, his gun swinging out wide. I ducked and elbowed him in the stomach before taking off again. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as we continued to play cat and mouse. A wave of excitement filled my body and I felt the pang of desire to really show this fucker exactly who he was dealing with. Serene calmness came over me as I waited for him once more. Crouching down, I nestled on the other side of the cabinet as to not give away my position. I saw him the moment he entered despite his quiet steps that were more cautious than before. This is my house, and I’ll be damned if I let him get the upper hand, I mentally growled.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he sing-songed. Light glinted off his black boots, as we had ended up in my fully lit kitchen. I sprung when he was within hitting range, finally knocking his gun loose from his grip. The metal skidded across the countertop before falling with a clunk on the other side of the large island. His body pressed against mine forcing me to lean back. His gloved hands resting flat on the quartz counter on either side of my torso. I noted the delicious feeling of his muscles flush with my hips and breasts, taking stock that he was also turned on by the chase between us.
“I suggest you watch your next move, assassin,” I taunted back, my gun angled up his rib cage directly at his lung and heart. “I might slip and blow off the family jewels, and that would be a travesty.”
“You’re much more fun than my other marks.” He rubbed his nose along my cheek and inhaled. “None of those bastards fought back. They all whined and moaned like little bitches.” I felt his lips widen into a broad smile against my flushed and heated skin. My heart pounded in my chest, the hard thuds pushing my breasts into his toned upper body in a harsh staccato rhythm. That pang within me moved from the desire to eliminate to the desire to dominate, need coursing through me at the shift.
“I won’t ever beg for mercy,” I responded, my statement breathy with desire. I felt my pussy throb as he pulled back and looked at me. His steel grey eyes were filled with excitement, his smiled crazed and manic. He was devastatingly handsome and clearly insane, but then again, so was I.
“I can make you beg,” he whispered, moving closer until we were nose to nose. “But not for mercy. No, little kittycat, I’ll make you beg to come and release as I relentlessly fuck you without leniency.” I chuckled coldly, my chest heaving in time with my breathless pants.
“You think I would just let you fuck me?” I leaned even closer, brushing the edge of his lips with mine with each word spoken. “No, little assassin.” Turning his words against him had his eyes blazing with the thrill of the upcoming challenge. “You’ve got to fight for the privilege to fuck me.” On the last word, I moved, maneuvering myself out from between him and the counter.
A cruelly handsome smile appeared on his kissable lips, while he took his gloves off sensually slow, one finger at a time. I disengaged the hammer on my gun before sliding it into the holster at my hip, pulling the extra magazine out and laying it on the counter. My assassin’s eyes tracked the movement before flashing me his manic smile once more.
“It would be my pleasure to fight for your pussy, my little kittycat.” Every time he spoke, even when laced with desire and need, it was abnormally cheerful and jolly, as if he was constantly happy despite the fact he was about to murder someone. In this case, murder me. Well, fuck me now, we’ll get back to the attempted murdering later, after I get my fill. I took off again, this time heading for the living room and hallway. His footsteps were no longer silent but pounding as his long legs ate up the distance between us.
I almost rounded the corner into the front entryway when his body smashed into mine, his muscled arms pinning me chest first against the wall. His impressive erection pressed along my ass in a rough manner as he ground his hips against me. Gritting my teeth to keep a moan contained, I threw an elbow back into his ribs. He grunted, shifting back from me just enough allowing me to turn around. Before I could try and run, his rough fingers wrapped around my wrists and held me to the wall.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he whispered sinfully in my ear, his breath hot on my skin. My lips tilted up at his tone, my eyes half-lidded in my lustful haze.
“I’ll kiss it all better later, promise.” I nipped his ear lobe at the end of my statement. His curiosity burned in his eyes as he looked down at me before slamming closed as I kneed him right between the legs. His pained groan echoed in the silent hall behind me as I sprinted up the staircase two at a time, grabbing the leather belt hanging from my chair before hiding. I had made sure not to hit too hard, I mean, I did want him to be able to fuck
me as he promised. Can’t do that with a sore dick, now can you?
“My kittycat fights dirty,” he purred when he reached the top of the stairs. His steps were purposeful as he stalked to my bedroom. The crazed look made his steel eyes glow in the near blackness of the room, the only light from the full moon outside the many windows of my master suite. He stepped farther into the room eyeing the large California King bed with blazing appreciation.
I struck when he was distracted, jumping and latching onto his back. My legs wrapped tightly around his muscled abdomen holding me to him as I wrapped the leather around his throat. Try as he might, he couldn’t dislodge or stop me until the belt was fastened snugly, but not too tightly, around his pulsing neck. He stilled under me when he realized I wasn’t attempting to strangle him to death, his fingers exploringly brushing the leather. Slipping down his body, I placed my feet on the plush carpet.
“Let’s see here,” I said as I slowly walked around him, the excess of the belt held tightly in my fist. “Looks like you’re my pet now, little assassin.” I looked up at him, my head coming to right below his broad shoulders. The maniacal smile that spread across his face had me breathing in sharply, his eyes burning me from the inside out.
“Then I’m yours, Kittycat.” He dipped down sharply finally pressing his lips to mine. His hands immediately going to my loose tank and ripping it right down the front baring my breasts to him. “Fuck me,” he groaned happily cupping my chest, the pads of his thumbs running over the point of each nipple bringing another throb to my already soaking pussy.
“That’s what I plan on doing,” I murmured, tearing his shirt from his body as he had done to me. Chiseled muscles met my fingers as I gripped his shoulders, and without hesitation, I dug my nails in and tore down his chest and abs until I was met with his waistband, blood welling up in the wounds. I wanted to see how far into pain my assassin liked to go, and based on his shudder and goosebump rising on his tanned skin, I’d say pretty damn far.
I barely got his jeans unbuttoned and shoved down his hips before he had me turned and pushed into the wall as he had downstairs. Only this time, he had shoved my shorts down far enough to press against me. His large cock stretching me as he plunged into me in one slow, powerful stroke. Unable to hold back the curses on my tongue, I moaned obscenities as he thrust into my flooded pussy without leniency, just as he promised.
My moans turned to unbridled screams as I neared my orgasm, the sharp pangs of release pressing down against me making me thrash between my assassin and the wall. Right as it neared, he pulled out, a large hand fisting around my throat holding me flush with his bleeding chest.
“You know what you have to do to get your release, my little thief,” he threw my sentiment in my face with a heated, yet gleeful, intonation. He nibbled my neck as he held me steadfast against him. My anger bubbled to the surface which only fueled the lust-filled haze I was drowning in.
“Fuck you,” I bit out, breaking his hold to grip the leather wrapped around his neck. Pulling sharply on the strap, I led him back to the bed. “I’ll beg you when you’ve earned it, and the five minutes of pounding my greedy pussy you just did is nowhere near enough,” I growled, yanking on the makeshift collar, his muscular body spread against my dark bedding. His crazed smile turned salacious as he looked at me standing at the foot of the bed.
“If you want it Kittycat, then you work for it,” he taunted. Raising a single brow after shucking my ruined clothing, I climbed on top of him sinking immediately on his bobbing erection. Our throaty moans filled the air as I rode him hard, digging my nails into his already tortured chest. The minutes turned to long stretches, and as I neared that edge I bent over his blood smeared chest, the warmth of the liquid rubbing over my pert nipples and heavy breasts.
“Please, my assassin,” I begged, my voice shaking with the fire that burned my nerves, ready for release. As if I had spoken the magic words, he snatched me around my waist and flipped us over. The sound of his balls slapping against me was drowned out by our combined screams, my hands clawing once more at his chest and after a few more thrusts, I blacked out momentarily from the intensity of my orgasm. My assassin followed suit as I milked him of his own release.
“Kittycat?” Chase’s elated voice pulled me from my memories, his steel eyes bright as he stood in front of me. “You all right?” I nodded, a small smile curling my lips.
“Yeah, just thinking,” I responded softly. Despite the fact I hated pretty much everyone, this crazy, happy-go-lucky ex-assassin somehow earned my loyalty in a night of an adrenaline-pumping, unbridled, sex-filled game of cat and mouse.
“What about?” He curled me in his arms, his nose nuzzling into my hair as he liked to do.
“When we first met, my little assassin,” I teased. “Unfortunately, we can’t have a repeat right now since we need to head out.”
“Aw...” He pouted his luscious bottom lip out. “Later?” He gave me a cheeky grin as he bounced lightly on his toes in excitement. I nodded, a small laugh bubbling out of me at his enthusiasm. Pushing him away, I handed him his gear before strapping mine to the various parts of my body.
“Ready?” I questioned as I secured my goggles on my forehead over my beanie. He nodded, the thrill of tonight’s challenge making his eyes glow in two pools of molten metal. “Good, let’s go steal us some files.”
Chapter 3
April 21st
Sunday After Midnight
Kiera
“Meow,” Chase’s cheery voice purred in my ear piece. “You look pretty yummy in those tight black pants.” I rolled my eyes at his heated compliment, my lock picks clicking quietly in the deserted parking lot. After a few more adjustments of my metal instruments, the lock gave way. The faint scent of paper greeted me as I slipped into the empty law office. I knelt down behind Cory Harbold’s desk where the heavy oak door on the left side of the hideously gaudy piece of furniture opened silently, revealing a safe.
“Passcode?” I prompted, my fingers poised over the keypad.
“22410893,” my partner rattled off the eight-digit code. The light shifted green, and the sound of the lock opening was like music to my ears. Bingo, this is too easy. I had to bite back a satisfied smiled at how seamlessly the job was moving along. Despite all the dirty little secrets Cory held in his office, his safe and security were mediocre at best, thinking the threat of his boss would be deterrent enough for criminals and thieves.
Like me.
But he was clearly wrong.
“What the…” I reached into the safe, and instead of finding a stack of papers, my gloved fingers brushed cool metal. Nothing, the safe was empty. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I growled.
“What’s that, Kittycat?” Chase’s voice filled my ear, not at all concerned at the turn of events. Of course, I grumbled.
“The safe’s fucking emptied out.” I shut the safe and desk door, turning to his other drawers. “Everything else in his office is the same as it has been for the last week when we were casing the place. He knew we were coming,” I realized with a start. At that same moment, a door opening at the front of the building caught my attention.
“I’d get out of there, Kittycat,” he happily urged. “Harbold is here.” I sighed in irritation. Fucking shit. Slipping out the office window that I had oiled last night for emergencies, I disappeared into the night and headed straight for my bike.
April 21st
Sunday Early Morning
Garrett
The squeaky stool was hard under me as I sank onto the wooden surface. Groaning, I rubbed my face in irritation at how early it was. Who fucking gets up at seven in the morning? I pushed the whiny thought away in an attempt to focus on the matter at hand, the Alloy Kings. A whoosh of air from outside whirling into the bar caught my attention. Chase’s teasing smile and skip-like step filled the doorway before he started toward us.
“Who are you?” Brooks questioned, his brows furrowing.
“Kiera’s
friend, Chase,” I informed him. I flashed Chase a look to relay he needed to keep his damned mouth shut about himself.
“Nice to meet you.” He disregarded me with a brief wave of his hand before sticking it out for Boss to shake. Stone just stared, in a very Stone-like manner, at the former assassin as Chase slipped an arm over my shoulder. After a few moments of tense silence, Kiera’s angry face appeared from the door as she made her way inside. Her fury added to the sexy fire that always burned within her. Her lean muscles were covered in tight black pants, and a loose black band t-shirt that had been cut off at the shoulder seams, the open sides revealing the band of her typical lacy bra. Completing the look, she wore riding boots and a leather jacket was clenched tightly in her fist. Her outfit offered a glimpse of the tattoos that swirled in both black and color, curling around her arms, chest, sides, and right half of her neck, but I knew from previous glimpses of her naked body that the artwork covered nearly every inch of her smooth skin.
“You might want to run,” Chase whispered in my ear, his hot breath caressing my cheek. His overly puppy-like behavior was apparent on his face as he smiled toward me, his light grey eyes laughing at what was about to unfold. He thrived on chaos despite the meticulousness he employed during his previous career.
Glancing at Brooks and Stone, I noticed both wore looks of suspicion and arousal as they eyefucked Kiera. I couldn’t blame them, she looked like a frump in her work clothes, but in this outfit… I mentally groaned at the sight. Even my jeans were growing snug. Stone’s expression was a bit worrisome, the cold look of mistrust blatant in his deep scowl and narrowed eyes. She immediately walked behind the unmanned bar and poured a large glass of the closest alcohol she could grab.
“Kiera…” I started preparing to ask her for help when suddenly, I was staring down the barrel of her Glock.
