Kissing the Hitman Read Online Ella Goode

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Crime, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
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Heat rushes to my face. “I don’t know what happened. I guess it’s been a while, and then ah, you were in my bed, and my dreams got the best of me.” Stop talking! I scream at myself inside my head.

“It’s been a while?” He stands up straighter.

“I guess,” I squeak.

“Since you had a man in your bed?”

“I sleep alone. Always have.” How do I change the subject? Of course, this time Finn doesn’t let any silence linger.

“You shared your bed with me.”

“First time for everything. So where should we head next?” I turn and start walking.

“First time?” I hear him say from behind me. Within seconds, he’s next to me, his long, giant legs easily catching up to me.

“So, how long are you going to be in Paris?” I ask, trying to keep the focus off my love life. Which is nonexistent.

“Depends.” Here we go again with his cryptic answers.

“On?”

“How long the job will take. Sometimes you have to wait people out.”

“Like negotiations? I bet you always win. You can be silent forever.”

“I do.” I peek over at him. He’s watching me. “Always win.”

“Lucky. I’m horrible at them. I was talking to Sam—”

“Sam?” he cuts in for once.

“Yeah, he’s a travel influencer too. We both did some promo for the same company, and he told me what they paid him. It was almost double what they gave me! I mean, I’m happy for him, it just kinda sucks.” I peek around, not wanting anyone to hear me say something rude. Finn does the same, but he does a bigger scan of the area around us. “I have a bigger following than him,” I whisper. “And my page has a ton more engagement. Is it because he’s a man? I bet it is. Isn’t it?” I huff.

“He could have lied.” I stop walking.

“Why would he do that?” I hadn’t even considered that Sam could be lying.

“To get into your head.”

“I don’t understand why he’d need to do that.”

“Are you his competition?”

“I never thought of it that way. I thought we were kind of friends. He keeps trying to get one of our trips to coincide but it never works out.”

“That’s not happening.” Finn puts his hand on my back to guide me to keep walking.

“Maybe you could teach me?”

“Teach you?” he repeats.

“Yeah, to negotiate. Give me some tricks or something.”

“I think you’re a lot better at it than you know.”

Chapter

Thirteen

FINN

I have ideas about what we could negotiate. Her clothes. Her kisses. Her cries. My cock twitches, which is inconvenient since we’re standing in the middle of the Tuileries with tourists and Parisians strolling through the gardens on either side of us. Even though Paris is the City of Love, public erections aren’t high on the list of things to do while on vacation. Pretty sure I can get arrested for public indecency.

“You done with the churros?”

She peers at me over a half-eaten one. “No.”

The dumbass is unstated but implied. “I’ll buy you a whole flotilla in a couple hours.” I toss her hot chocolate into a nearby trash can and grab her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to the hotel.” I consider lifting her over my shoulder so we can move faster.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.” I should’ve taken her this morning. I should've reached between her legs, scissored that wet cunt open, and slid inside of her. I was ready. She was ready. Instead, I’d said some dumb things, hurt her feelings, and all that led to me having a public woodie. The only thing that will remedy both grievances—her feelings, my hard-on—is sex.

“What is it? Your wallet is in your pocket. You used it to pay for our food.”

“You want to learn to negotiate? Find out the one thing the other person wants the most and then use it against them.”

“What do you want the most?”

“At precisely this minute? You.”

I hurry her inside the hotel and through the lobby. If we don’t get to a private place soon, I might embarrass us both in various unforgettable ways. The elevator arrives swiftly. The minute the doors close, I’m on her, my mouth sealed across hers. My fingers pull at the waistband of her sweater until her skin is exposed. She gasps as I splay my cold hands across her back and pull her tighter.

The elevator door dings open, and I walk us backward, refusing to separate from her. We tumble into the room. My booted heel kicks the door shut. Inside, I break away to scoop her into my arms.

“Now’s the time to make demands.”

She gives me a sloe-eyed peek from under her lashes. “What if I want everything?”

I feel my stone face cracking. It could be my heart too. “Then everything is what you’ll get.” I set her down on the bed.

As an assassin, I pay attention to details. I notice when one book on the shelf has been moved because the spine doesn’t perfectly align with the others. I can tell if a man is cheating on his wife by how often he looks at his phone during dinner. I can tell the truth from a lie by how many times the speaker swallows.


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