Never Kiss a Bad Boy (12 page)

Her face was flushed, she didn't respond. Biting her wrist, she turned away and humped that sweet ass into the air. Grinding against me, Marina tried to get more of my fingers, more of me.

I loved women, and I got off on making them squeal and come. Few things fed my ego so well as a sexy pair of bucking hips.

Marina would come for me, the way I demanded.

If she thought
that
was unfair, then she had a lot to learn.

Pumping faster, I nibbled the very edge of her sensitive hood. I needed as much of her as I could get, and I was starting to lose my composure.

Marina wasn't holding back anymore. Her voice keened high, you'd think I was torturing her. I sensed the subtle change in the heat of her cunt, the vibrations as she clamped down on my fingers.

Pinning me by the ears, her legs held me steady while she finally came.

Let me drown here, it'd be worth it
.

Shivering, I tugged my fingers out of her, ignoring her disagreeable whimper. “What?” I teased. “Now you want them back inside? I thought you wanted my cock?”

Her eyes were jewels, her pink blush made from priceless rubies. “Maybe I don't anymore,” she heaved. Her breasts were shaking with her gulps of air. “Maybe you waited too long.”

Unhooking her ankles, I ducked out from under her.

“Wait!” she gasped, reaching out for me. She caught my sly smile, and then she scowled. “Don't joke around, Kite.”

Tugging my jacket off, I smoothed my hair. I could smell her on my hands. The scent was another chain-link in my brain. Marina was trapping me.

“I'm not joking,” I said firmly. “I am very serious about what I'm going to do to you.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out a condom. Remember, no mistakes. “Stand up.”

Kicking her pants and shoes off of her feet, she hurried to do so. The insides of her thighs were shimmering. I spread my jacket out, creating a safer place for us both. Lifting my eyes, I planned to motion for her to lay back down—but being level with her hips stopped me.

She made a tiny noise, stumbling as I yanked her closer. On my knees, I nuzzled the side of her thick, curved ass. “You are so damn gorgeous, it's a travesty,” I said against her flesh.

Reaching down, she took hold of my shirt. “Can I...?”

“Undress me? Yes.” Leaning away, I let her guide the clothing over my head. My hair was tossed, coppery strands blinding me. When I could see again, I gazed up at the appreciative face of Marina.

Her hands trembled, she touched my bare shoulders and used me to support her balance. “I was right,” she said, satisfied.

Helping her kneel, I stroked the side of her throat. The way her lashes fluttered, they might as well have tickled across my swollen cock. “About what?” I asked.

She only smiled, a little sideways tilt of her lips. Crooking a finger at me, she splayed on her back. Her thumbs tucked into the sides of her soaked panties, pulling them down. She had to lift her feet up, pointing her toes.

I had the ultimate view, and I saw my hands grab her ankles before I even debated it. “Fuck, who thought it was fair to the rest of the world to create only one of you?” I growled.

The button of my jeans popped, zipper grinding down. The reddish tip of my engorged cock peeked over the top of my boxers. Marina saw it, licked her lips, and I just fucking gave up any attempt at control.

Yanking the last of my clothing down, I fisted the base of my shaft. It arched into the air, veins like serpents on a sugar high. Deftly, I opened the condom and stretched it over my girth.

I had her ankles, crossing them together and bending them towards her face. Marina was flexible, but I pushed her to the brink of discomfort. Those carved thighs were rubbing, her pussy beckoning at me.

I didn't ask if she was ready. Her trail of pussy juice said enough.

Sinking into her, I fought not to close my eyes. I wanted to see every tiny reaction on her face. How she winced, pursed her lips, cooed and then groaned.

Marina's ears did something I'd never noticed before on a woman; the tips went crimson. I wondered if I was the first to notice it happen.

“Kite! Fucking...
Kite!
”

“That's right,” I grunted, watching her from between her curled toes. “I
am
fucking you.”

She squeezed me, milking my cock without consideration for how good it felt or how she was ruining me. “Please, more!” she cried.

Grimacing, I bared me teeth and slammed deeper. How the hell could she take this and ask for more? How insatiable was this woman?

Her nails came up, trying to claw me passionately. On reflex, I bent away; caught the flash of disappointment in her eyes. It was instinctual, though.

Nails could collect my DNA... and I couldn't risk that.

Pushing the guilt down, I buried myself in her desperate cunt and pretended I hadn't just given away my game. Even if it wasn't for a week, or a month—please, let me have a month—Marina was destined to die.

I was on the verge of finishing, my lower belly a solid ball of fire. In my head, Marina's question reached me.

Why?

That was all she'd asked. And I still didn't know the answer.

What logic was there in getting hooked on this girl when her future was a body bag?

Shutting my eyes tight, I leaned into her harder. I had her pinned, but somehow, she spread her thighs and I slipped through. The barrier was gone, my bare chest crushing on her firm tits.

Instantly she had her fingers in my hair, her lips on mine, and her nails were digging into my back.

Digging hard. Intentionally hard.

Marina wasn't stupid. If only she had been.

Biting my neck, she ground her hips into me and I clutched her soft ass. The way she breathed, smelled,
existed...
all of it shoved me over the edge.

Roaring so fiercely that I sent dirt swirling over the floor, I put my nose in her thick curls and trembled. The orgasm locked me up, turned my fibers into lava. Under me, her body joined the race.

Beautiful fucking Marina, Marina the natural. She came seconds after I did, her pussy embracing my twitching cock.

Sweat dripped off of my chin. It hit her on the cheek when I leaned back. With my hands on either side of her face, she could do nothing but stare up at me. Stunning, glowing, accusing eyes. It wasn't ideal.

My back burned from her cuts, but her awareness hurt so much more.
She suspects I plan to kill her.

I didn't want to look into her knowing expression another minute.

Grunting, I slid my hips back; the shiny condom came with me. Crouching, I guided it off and tied it into a knot. Nothing escaped. One handed, I pulled up my pants, zipping them as I moved.

“What are you doing?” she asked, propping on her elbows.

Leaning out the door into the cool air, I dug with my heel in the ground. The condom fell, covered in soil and on its way to being decomposed.

Everything was temporary.

Everything could be buried.

“Nothing. Just getting some air,” I said.

I stood like that, shirtless in the February chill. I could see nothing in the night, the stars useless pinpricks. The rest of the world could have been destroyed, eaten up while we'd been fucking. We wouldn't have noticed.

What if it had been?
I asked myself. What if the universe
could
wink out, just like that, somehow converting into nothingness.

If it meant that the responsibility of protecting myself and Jacob from Marina no longer rested on my shoulders...

Being sucked into the blackness would have been a relief.

Marina

K
ite had been an accident.

I didn't have a plan to kiss him—or to let him kiss me. I'd
felt
the natural pull he possessed. I'd felt it the first night we spoke. The man was as charming and alluring as his friend.

And that is why you might say I did a stupid thing.

Wanting to kiss or touch or fuck either of these men was reckless. They were in my head, in my nose and in my blood. They had a way of staying in my cells. Poisonous men... deadly men.

I wonder if there exists an antidote for attraction?

Staring sideways at Kite, I continued to search for what to say. He hadn't spoken more than a word or two since we'd gathered up everything and left the shooting range. The duffel bag was at my feet, the weight of it comforting on my ankles.

It helped keep me from jumping out of the car.

Say something,
I told myself.
We've been on the road for an hour. The city is coming up any minute.
In the distance, the lights blinked.

The evening had been going so well. I didn't know why that had stopped. Kite had tasted delicious, and as pathetic as it sounds, I was excited when he kissed me.

His hands were skilled, his words inviting. He'd had my panties soaked and my heart in my throat so fast I'd gotten dizzy. A small part of me wanted to understand why he—a man who had killed so many—would want anything to do with me, the girl he considered a burden.

And I was
definitely
a burden.

I'd swung into the world of these retired hitmen and forced them to help me.

Now Kite has done something he regrets.
That was what it was: regret. It came off of him in waves. Fucking me, it had been a mistake. Probably for us both.

So why was my heart beating so fast when I thought about it?

It left my head foggy, my stomach twisting.
So just say something and break this tension!
I screamed mentally. Clearing my throat once, then twice, I looked at Kite. “Thanks for teaching me to shoot.”

He glanced at me, then nodded. “Yeah. You did pretty good.”

His compliment thrilled me. Just like he'd thrilled me when he'd been touching me, guiding my hands and whispering in my ear on the range. He really was enticing. Knowing what he could do to me, seeing his impossibly well-cut body, resisting would be hard.

Looking at my nails, I remembered how I'd scratched him. It was a spontaneous thing. I was feeling more and more sure he wouldn't kill me, but still, I'd wanted to ensure I'd get a little more time.

With his DNA under my nails, he wouldn't dare try to murder me tonight.

Or I've just guaranteed myself an acid bath in a barrel.

“Anyway,” I muttered as we rolled into the city, “At the rate I'm going,  I'll be ready to kill that guy by the time you and Jacob actually find him.”

I
heard
him crush the wheel. “Oh?” he whispered. “You really think some practice shots are going to prepare you for that?”

Blinking, I tightened my mouth. “Yes.” When he said nothing, just took us down a dark side-street, I pressed on. “Isn't that how you said you and Jacob got good? If I can guarantee the fatal shot, I'll definitely be able to—”

“It isn't the same,” he snapped. He turned off the headlights, the car driving at a snail's pace down another quiet road. I didn't know where we were, but the area looked destitute.

Buildings stood like toothless giants, garbage piled on corners. He whispered, “Even if you line up a shot that will kill, practicing with a paper target won't make you ready to fire on a living person.” He was speaking with a raw edge in his voice.

A heavy pit formed in my guts. “What else can I possibly do to get ready, then?”

Leaning over, he reached into his duffel bag. He was close to me, bending near to get at it on my side of the car. His scent brought back the crisp memory of our bodies rubbing together.

In the dark, the barrel of the Ruger shone like diamond dust in Kite's grip.

My heart had been hammering from excitement. Now, it locked up and rusted away.

Especially when he offered the gun to me.

The single, flickering orange street lamp outside turned Kite's frown as grizzly as a jack o' lantern's. “The only thing that prepares you for killing, is to actually fucking kill,” he said.

I didn't touch the weapon. My tongue was numb. “What?”

Gesturing ahead, Kite had me look out the window. A few yards down on the empty street, there was a man curled up on a filthy bus stop. He didn't see us, he didn't even lift his head.

The word that escaped me was strained. “No.”

Kite shoved the gun at me again. “You keep talking like you're already a hitman. You want to avenge your family and murder someone. Marina, answer me.”

I was sure my heart had stopped. “I'm not shooting someone I don't even know.”

“You think you
know
the man you want dead? You don't know his name, he's a stranger to you.” Kite moved fast, taking my wrist, slapping the gun's handle into my fingers and trapping them.

Eyes that I'd thought were similar to mine, they were now cold and empty. But not unfamiliar. I'd seen them before.

This was the man I'd watched murder Frank Montego. The silent beast who'd stalked a busy park on a happy summer day.

“It isn't the same,” I said. “The man I'm chasing
is
a murderer! I know that! This guy is just... I'm not going to kill a random person!”

“Marina,” he whispered. How could a whisper feel like a slap? “Every person you shoot is going to feel the same. Whether you know their past, their sins, or their saintliness.” He pulled away, and the Ruger was left with me. “If you wait until your 'target' is your first, you will not be able to pull that trigger.” His chin dipped, and I wondered where the man who had kissed me had gone. “You will not succeed, and then you will die.”

I couldn't stop shaking. Breathing, swallowing, everything was a struggle. The gun weighed more than the Earth and it was pulling me into my unseen grave.

Narrowing my eyes, I inhaled deep. I remembered everything he had taught me. My thumb popped the safety off, my finger went for the trigger.

I had it halfway up, aimed at Kite, and the words on my tongue were readied. I wanted to say something like,
Then I'll just kill you to see if you're right. If every kill feels the same, it won't matter.