Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
He holds me in place as he jerks inside me, filling me up. His intense gaze keeps me grounded as I slowly rock my hips back and forth as I come down from the high.
Blood is smeared on his lips—and most likely mine—and my hand. I should be mortified, but there’s something untamed and carnal about fucking this man. Like he pins me down, marks me, and breaks me, and I get off on the high every fucking time.
“You enjoy milking my cock, don’t you, Kitten,” he says with an arrogant smile.
I mirror his smile. “It’s the least I can do, fiancé… before I kill you.”
His smile grows bigger, and I wonder if anyone gets to see this side of Eli. In all the photos I’ve seen of him, I’ve never seen him smile like this, so beautifully and openly.
My hand raises to his face, and I rub my hand against the scruff of his jaw as if petting him.
He seems perplexed by the tender touch, and even I don’t know why I feel so moved to do it. Aftercare is not my specialty.
I snap into a sudden realization. Aftercare? What the fuck am I thinking?
I lift myself off him and quickly scramble over to the passenger seat, pulling down my dress and adjusting my panties.
“Truce is over,” I say, my heart hammering and strange emotions I’m not entirely comfortable with, wanting to explode out. He’s chuckling, amused by my quick switch, as I place my golden guns in their case and practically jump out of the car.
“Aren’t you forgetting this?” he asks, holding up the bullet.
“I was hoping you’d choke on it. Keep it as a memento, asshole,” I bite out, slamming the door as he laughs.
I cut across the parking lot to my apartment building, focusing on the clicking of my heels as I walk.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
What am I feeling right now?
Why do I feel like this?
I hit the button to the elevator more times than needed, but when the doors finally close, I hold the gun case close to my chest and thump my head on the wall with a sigh.
A momentary truce, huh?
Meeting his parents?
Fuck, is this becoming real?
I pull my phone from my small clutch, noticing a new text message from my client that came in two hours ago. I feel the life drain from me as I read the words.
Anonymous Number: Meet one of my men in this location tomorrow evening at eight to exchange details on the Monti family. Don’t be late.
“Fuck.” The glint of my engagement ring catches my eye, and I swallow. I bite at the tip of my nail. The longer I prolong the hit, the longer… Well, I’m not entirely sure what I’m feeling.
The elevator doors open, and I hide any emotions that might be showing on my face. I’m a lethal hitwoman, for fuck’s sake. And no man will be my downfall.
I remind myself of that as I step into the hallway with my two golden guns.
CHAPTER 30
Eli
“Married?” Billie says, baffled. Dutton, Hawke, and Ford are sitting behind her. She turns to Dutton. “How could you not tell me this?” she asks accusingly.
His hands are folded over his chest, and he shrugs. “I only found out a few days ago.”
“Isn’t that kind of big news? Who is she? It’s not Michelle, is it? I can’t stand her.”
“And what are you going to say if it is?” Hawke asks, laughing. She goes to speak but closes her mouth. My cousin is, unfortunately, a dumbass, much like Hawke. Neither of them think before they speak.
“It isn’t, right?” She winces as if she’s put her foot in her mouth.
“Absolutely not,” my mother calls out. “My son has some taste.”
“At least your son seems interested in a relationship; mine just seems to drift from bed to bed,” Aunt Honey calls from the kitchen.
“Why am I now being targeted?” Dutton shouts. Hawke and Ford laugh as Billie glances at her phone.
“Hope can’t come. She’s busy with some show tonight,” Billie says, throwing herself between the twins to sit.
“I didn’t even invite her,” I grit out, irritated that this turned into a far bigger deal than I’d intended it to be. “And why are you two here? Didn’t I let you have tonight off?” I ask Hawke and Ford.
Ford seems too preoccupied with his phone to answer. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Hawke shrugs, then answers, “Where else would we want to be when the boss officially introduces his fiancée to the family? Besides, we missed you since you seem to be having date nights and killing sprees together. We’re basically chopped liver now.”
“You went on a killing spree together?” Billie demands, cheeks going pale. “Please tell me she’s not as crazy as Anya.”
“Hey, that’s our mother you’re speaking about,” Hawke scolds.
“Yeah, and you’re just as crazy,” she bites back.