Assassin's Haiku (10 page)

“You’re not leaving me, Haiku. I meant it. I love you.” Diego’s tone brokered no discussion. “And I’ll never let them touch you.”

Diego loved her. “I’m not leaving you.” Haiku placed one arm around his waist, underneath his jacket. She would borrow his warmth and strength to meet her death with dignity. “I love you too.”

Chapter Thirteen

Diego was going to die. He knew this day would come, as it came for every assassin. Each skirmish was kill or be killed, and eventually every assassin made a fatal mistake. Diego had accepted that fate years ago. However, he thought he’d die alone, and he thought he wouldn’t have regrets.

He’d thought wrong. Haiku, the woman he loved, was by his side, and he regretted not keeping her safe. Over the last couple of days, he had loved and been loved enough for a lifetime, and he greedily wanted more, but he knew he didn’t deserve it, because he hadn’t protected his dream, and he hadn’t protected Haiku. It was his fault that the fairy-tale ending depicted in the drawing wouldn’t come true.

“I’ve failed you, Haiku,” he confessed quietly. “There is no returning safely today.”

Although she trembled against him, her back was straight, and her chin tilted upward. “You have never failed me, Diego, ever. We knew what we were facing when we left the orphanage. We made a choice to protect the children, and I don’t regret it. They are our future, our hope.”

Haiku loved the children, and in them, a piece of her would live. “We will protect them with our last breaths,” Diego vowed, scanning the soldiers surrounding him. After making his obscene offer, the doctor had retreated behind his human shield to wait for them to make the first move. He would make notes on model 12750’s response to a no-win situation, so he could fine-tune subsequent enhanced soldiers.

“Aim for the doctor. If he dies, the experiments might end.” Maybe then his death, Haiku’s death, would mean something. After Haiku nodded her agreement, Diego leaned back into her softness for a second, bracing himself for the pain, and then lunged forward, shooting. The first bullet caught him in the arm.

And then there were no more bullets. The world went silent and still, the Agency soldiers frozen midattack, their guns raised, their faces grim and lifeless. A semicircle of ammunition hung in the air. Diego’s bullets struck his targets, piercing flesh, but the men didn’t fall.

Diego stopped shooting. “What the fuck?” Questioning his own sanity, he reached out and tapped a hanging bullet. It moved but didn’t drop.

It couldn’t be a dream, because he didn’t feel pain in dreams, and the flesh wound on his arm hurt like a son of a bitch. His other senses were also vividly engaged. Diego heard Haiku breathe in frantic puffs of air behind him, and he smelled the sharp tang of her fear. “Haiku?” Did she know what the fuck was going on?

“It wasn’t Mommy. I froze the bad men.” Jacob casually pushed his way between the Agency operatives. “I don’t want to be an ass-in if it means Mommy and you die.” He glared at Diego, daring him to refute that logic.

“Jacob.” Before Diego could stop her, Haiku ran forward, brushing bullets aside to reach the boy. “Thank goodness you’re here.” She hugged Jacob to her chest. “You did a good, good thing, sweetheart.” She petted his wet hair.

“Yeah.” Diego grunted. He still wasn’t certain what had happened. All he knew was Haiku was alive, he was alive, and the kid had something to do with it. He should be irritated as hell that a kid saved them, saved
him
, a professional killer, but he wasn’t. The only emotion he felt was gratitude.

Jacob allowed Haiku’s coddling for a moment before pushing away from her. “You said to stay, and I didn’t.” The boy folded his twiglike arms. “I didn’t follow orders.” He tilted his chin up.

Jacob expected a reprimand, but he didn’t deserve one, and Diego was a big enough man to admit when he was wrong. “A good assassin only follows orders if those orders are right.” He eyed the Agency soldiers. Their chests didn’t move, which meant they weren’t breathing. “Are they dead?”

“I froze them for five hours.”

Jacob held up five grimy fingers. The dirt was disgusting, but it wasn’t his fault, as it was impossible to stay clean while traversing the urban battlefield. Diego made a mental note to get him gloves.

“Do you want me to make them go pop?”

“No.” Haiku gasped. “No popping.” She clutched the boy to her bosom.

“Mommy doesn’t understand.” Jacob repeated his common refrain, freeing himself from Haiku’s loving stranglehold. The boy stared at him.

Diego stared back. “I understand.” He understood completely. He glanced at the soldiers and then at Jacob. Diego’s trigger fingers tapped on his guns. They both knew what the other was thinking. It would be so easy to kill the Agency men now.

“But we should humor Mommy,” Diego decided, holstering his guns. “We won’t make them go pop.” He picked up the discarded backpack and slung it over his shoulder. There was no reason to expose his softhearted Haiku to all that death. The soldiers were frozen for five hours. He could deposit Haiku and Jacob at the orphanage and then return to finish the job.

“Come, Haiku.” Diego motioned. She was too far away from him. He couldn’t protect her from there, and that made him nervous. He’d almost lost her once today, and he’d be even more careful now. He wouldn’t risk her life again.

“I love you, Diego.” Haiku took his extended hand. He couldn’t hear those three words often enough.

“Yeah.” He loved her too. Diego pulled her close for a quick kiss on the lips. They were far from his bunker, but pressed against Haiku, she felt like home. She was soft and open and welcoming.

Aware of their pint-size audience, Diego reluctantly drew away from Haiku. There would be time for more loving later. First he’d return her and Jacob to the orphanage. Diego looked back at the boy. Jacob stood, shifting his feet, his head bowed.

“Come, Jacob.” Diego held out his other hand. It felt numb from the gunshot wound. Warm blood ran down his skin in rivulets of red, but Jacob didn’t seem to mind. The boy’s face lit up, and he ran to place his small fingers in Diego’s large palm.

They walked through the dark alley, the three of them, and Diego’s heart swelled. His right hand held his woman, and his left hand held the boy his woman loved. He was no longer alone. He had a family. He glanced at Haiku’s trim waist. All they needed was a baby to make Emily’s drawing come true.

Diego threaded his fingers through Haiku’s. She looked up at him, a serene smile curling her lips, her beautiful face reflecting the peace he felt.

As they turned the corner, a loud
pop
broke the silence, and her smile disappeared. “Jacob.” Haiku twisted her body to look behind them.

Diego tugged her forward and gently squeezed Jacob’s hand. He understood. He may not agree with the boy’s methods, but he understood his rationale, because they both, in their own way, protected the woman they loved. The pops continued...

Chapter Fourteen

That evening, Diego dropped Haiku onto their bed’s crisp, white sheets. She clasped his bare shoulders, pulling him down to cover her wet, naked body. Gauze was wrapped around his left arm, but the binding was unnecessary, as the wound had already closed. Having examined him thoroughly during their shared shower, Haiku was satisfied that he was otherwise healthy.

They were also alone, having left Jacob at the orphanage. He promised to stay there this time. After Diego returned from his extended perimeter check, her two men had talked privately for over an hour and had come to some sort of understanding. Diego wouldn’t say what that understanding was, and Haiku didn’t ask, as she didn’t really want to know.

All she needed to know was that everyone she cared for was safe. “We’re alive, Diego.” Haiku laughed with joy. “We live to love another day. We should celebrate.”

“Oh, I plan to.” He rolled away from her, his muscles rippling as he stood. He moved like a sleek predator, padding silently across the bedroom to open the dresser drawer.

It was the drawer he kept his sanitized black gloves in. Haiku sat up, her disappointment edged with fear. “What are you doing?” Was he planning to go out again?

The leather snapped as he pulled the skintight gloves onto his big hands. “I have a jet bike to ride.” Returning to the bed, he opened his fingers to display a small tube of lubricant, and Haiku’s pussy moistened at the promise of sexual delights to come. Diego dropped the tube on the bed, and his black eyes gleamed as he leaned over and kissed her, nibbling on her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip. The mattress dipped with his weight. He caressed her breasts, cupping them with his leather-covered hands, pinching her nipples into tight peaks.

His touch scrambled her brain. He kissed her once more before flipping her onto her stomach. Her breath whooshed out of her, his sudden movement catching her by surprise.

“And guess who the jet bike is?”

Diego straddled her legs and wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her body up until she was on her hands and knees, exposed and submissive to his demands.

“Are you going to ride me?” Haiku wiggled her ass, tempting him. She craved his love taps, wanted those leather gloves smacking against her skin. “Hard?”

Diego wedged his hands between her closed legs, spreading her wider. His leather gloves felt cool and smooth and alien on her skin. “I will ride you hard.” He lunged into her, swiping her wet pussy lips with his broad cockhead, and she gasped, swaying backward to capture him.

“Eventually.”

He chuckled as he moved his cock out of her reach. She frowned. When was eventually?

“But not yet.” He clucked in a mock rebuke. “First, I must examine my machine, make sure all her parts work properly.”

He bent over her and nipped at her shoulder. She yelped.

“The Start button is functioning.”

He soothed the love bite with his tongue, swirling heat onto her skin. Next he licked down her spine, his hot mouth sending shivers cascading over her body.

“The frame is solid.”

Diego sucked on the dimple above her left ass cheek, and she arched, relishing the pull. Rubbing his leather-clad fingers over her skin, he heated her flesh until she moaned.

“Very solid.”

He slapped her ass hard with his palm, the sound ringing in the silent room. She cried out. That was what she needed. That was what she craved. He licked the burn while his hand slipped down the shadowed crevice of her ass, leaving a trail of warmth.

“The seat has lots of cushioning.”

She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at him.

“I love that,” Diego reassured her with a grin.

He slapped her right ass cheek, making her pussy clench, and then he pressed his lips against the throbbing flesh, mouthing her skin.

“It is good for long…” He straightened and grabbed her hips, his shaft sliding along her pussy lips. “Hard…” He moved again, fucking her without entry. “Rides.”

She moaned; his teasing drove her crazy. She needed him inside her, filling her, dominating her.

With his cock brushing against her thighs, Diego reached over her body to pick up the tube of lubricant. Haiku watched, her pussy clenching in anticipation, as he leisurely rubbed the clear gel over his gloves, one large finger at a time, until the leather was a shiny black.

“Now we have a classic rider dilemma.”

Diego circled her butt hole with the lubricated fingers of his left hand, while his right hand played with her pussy.

“Which thruster to use? The emergency thruster?”

He dripped more gel into her ass crack, and Haiku gasped both from the cold and from shock. She’d never allowed any man to enter her there, but she trusted Diego. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Diego rubbed the lubricant around and around and around her puckered rim, until she was slick and warm and relaxed. Then he eased his pinkie finger into that tight butt hole. Her body, at first, resisted the anal invasion, squeezing around the leather, but he persisted, pushing in, in, in, until she’d taken him up to the farthest joint.

“Or the tried and true?”

He pumped her pussy with two fingers. The leather, despite the lubricant, created friction against her flesh, heating her channel, adding to the stimulation.

“Emergency?”

He slid his pinkie in and out of her virgin hole. It felt naughty and decadent and very, very arousing.

“Tried and true?”

He added a third finger to her pussy, pressing the heel of his hand against her clit. The throbbing increased in intensity to the rhythm of his thrusts.

Diego worked her with both hands, gradually overlapping his pumping until the movements were synchronized, her two holes filled at the same time. “Diego.” She cried his name, her pussy vibrating and her ass quivering. She was so full, so saturated, and she couldn’t absorb the sensations. They overwhelmed her. She shook, her legs folding under her. She buried her face in the pillow to smother her cries.

“Not yet, Haiku.”

Diego removed his hands, and her torment eased momentarily.

“I want to be inside you.”

He draped himself over her body, his cock replacing his fingers, his hips pressing against her tender ass cheeks. He eased into her, his larger size stretching her pussy. His left hand was positioned as a pillar beside her shoulder, holding the bulk of his weight, and his right hand reached around to squeeze and knead her breasts, the leather sticky and hot against her nipples. With his bare chest rubbing against her rounded back, she was surrounded by his hard muscle.

He withdrew and drove into her again and again, pummeling her pussy with poignant pleasure. It wasn’t enough; she needed more. Haiku pushed back to take all of him. He groaned in her ear, and she panted with effort as they fucked like two wild things. His balls slapped against her burning ass, his thighs smacking against hers. Their lovemaking was harsh and primitive, a celebration of being healthy and alive and free.

Haiku reveled in it, giving herself over completely to the moment. She was long past thinking. She could only feel, her entire body an erogenous zone. Diego licked her ear, and she cried out. He ground his hips against her ass, and she shook. He slapped her nipple with his leather-clad fingers, and she came, her release fierce. She screamed shamelessly.