The Accidental Assassin (26 page)

“I have a bag in the living room. You can use one of my shirts.” Mavis offered. “Just don’t take the cashmere.”

“I don’t think your Barbie clothes fit normal-sized humans.” Take that, you knife-wielding, pint-sized assassin!

“That’s what I get for trying to be nice.” Mavis huffed. “Why do you think I told you not to touch my cashmere? I don’t want you stretching it out.”

I rolled my eyes and bypassed her small suitcase by the couch. Wearing her clothes would make me look like I was wrestling to climb inside doll clothes. Instead I’d look at the shirts in the dresser upstairs. Maybe I could find something that would work.

Owen followed me up the stairs and into the tiny bedroom we had claimed the night before. The sheets were still scattered from our morning tussle and I felt the heat creep up my neck and into my cheeks. It was followed by a small smile of pride which I tried to hide while poking through the chest of drawers.

I certainly had tried something new today.

Owen closed the door and walked past me to look out the windows that faced the street. He tucked his hands in his front pockets, the dwindling sun casting shadows across his jaw and sharp cheek bones. His eyes were scanning the street, but I could tell that his mind was elsewhere.

I stacked a wife-beater tank top and a blue button up shirt on top of the dresser. The top drawer was filled with neatly rolled socks and folded boxers. The thought of clean socks was more tempting than a chocolate cake, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear the old man’s.

“You might as well take the socks.” Owen’s voice cut through the quiet room.

I looked at him and frowned.

“It just seems so… disrespectful.” I shivered. “And gross. What if he had toenail fungus?”

“You had sex in his bed.” Owen pulled his hands from his pockets and moved toward me. His whole body language shifted as he moved gracefully in my direction. “I don’t think wearing the old man’s socks would be any more disrespectful.”

“You have a valid point.” I ignored the heat that was suffusing my cheeks and igniting in much lower places.

“I really enjoy the way your cheeks turn pink when I mention sex.” He dragged out that last word and moved so close that I had to look up to meet his gaze. “Like just now. Just the word makes you blush.”

“You’re making fun of me.” I tried to control my breathing, but my lungs refused to behave.

“No. No, I’m not.” He cupped the back of my head, forcing me to look up even higher. “I like the way you blush when I say sex because I know you’re thinking about having sex with me. Isn’t that right, love?”

I wanted to be coy, to rattle off some sort of sophisticated answer, but my mouth betrayed my brain.

“Yes.” I licked my lips.

“And if I said I wanted you right now, here, against this dresser, moaning my name, what would you say?” He backed me against the wooden furniture so that my rear was pressed against the top ledge.

“I would say that there are people downstairs who would hear us.” My body was screaming something else entirely, though. I bit my lip and managed to not squeak when he lifted me so I was sitting on the dresser.

“Do you find it hard to be quiet with me?” He leaned down and nuzzled my neck.

“Hm.” I tilted my head back so he had better access to my neck.

“What if I do this?” He dragged his teeth across the skin at the base of my neck.

The moan that fell from my lips couldn’t be helped. Having his mouth and teeth against my skin was an aphrodisiac that set my body on fire.

“That’s it.” He ran his lips back up my neck and nip my earlobe between his teeth and tugged. “That sound. I love when you make that sound for me.”

I ran my hands up his arms and fisted them in his hair, tugging gently so that he pulled back and met my gaze. His eyes were swirling with desire, half lidded, and looking at me as if I was the most delicious thing in the world.

“I love making those sounds for you.”

His eyes flashed brightly before his lips came crashing down on mine. His tongue wasn’t soft when he demanded entrance; his mouth wasn’t tender as it moved over mine. Raw, ragged need pulsed off him in waves that made my head spin and set my body alight.

I grappled to get closer to him, desperate to press the hot ache between my legs against him, to feel him move there. I needed him like I needed air. Now.

“Ava, I’m not in the mood to be gentle.” He breathed raggedly in my ear and began pulling at the button on the top of my jeans. “I need you.”

“Thank God.” I clawed at his shirt, desperate to have my hands on his skin.

We were in a mad race to get each other naked. He pulled me off the dresser and yanked my jeans down to my knees. Wasting no time he stood back up and peeled my shirt off, throwing it to the floor. I kicked at my shoes and jeans until I was free, working his pants undone so I could reach in and grasp him. As I slid my fingers down his length he hissed in my ear. Squeezing, I slowly jacked my hand up and down until I could feel his excitement run down over my fingers.

He ripped my bra off, throwing it across the room and knocking something off a shelf before dipping his head to catch my breast in his mouth.

“Owen.” My head fell back and I groaned loudly as he teasingly bit me before tracing my nipple with his tongue. My panties disappeared with the sound of popping seams and torn cloth. They were replaced with his hand, his fingers playing in the slickness between my legs.

His deep growl filled my ears and I bucked against his hand. He worked me with talented fingers, his mouth ravaging my breast as my cries grew louder. When I neared my peak he didn’t stop. Instead, he pulled back to watch my face as pleasure exploded in my body. I bit my lip to try and control my groans of pleasure.

Slowly he pulled his hand away and brought his fingers to his mouth. Deliberately he ran his tongue over them, tasting my orgasm for himself.

“You taste so good, love.” Slowly he trailed his tongue down one of his fingers. “I could eat you every day and never get hungry for anything else.”

“I like that plan.” I panted, trying to catch my breath, my head still spinning from the pleasure.

“Good, love, because it wasn’t up for discussion. I need you.” His green eyes were dark with desire and something else. Something much more serious.

I ran my hand over his shaft, enjoying the way his breath whistled out between his teeth. Carefully I let my nails drag along the tender skin, cupping his balls, and enjoying the way his eyes drifted shut.

“Are you ready, love? Or do you want to keep touching me?” He braced a hand on either side of me against the dresser. “I love the way your hands feel on me.”

“Ready for what?” My breathing hitched and moisture began to gather between my legs once more.

“It’s my turn.” He looked at me with hooded eyes. His hands slipped down to cup my ass and lifted me to the top of the dresser. “I want you hard and fast, screaming my name.”

I wrapped my legs around him and pulled his mouth to mine. “Then take me, Owen. Now.”

He wasted no time. Sliding home in one hard thrust he groaned loudly and dropped his head to my shoulder, breathing heavily.

“God, you feel like heaven,” he whispered against my neck. His hips began to move, pulling back so that only his swollen head rubbed along my clitoris, before filling me again with a powerful thrust.

He wasn’t gentle. His movements were greedy, hungry for me and what I could give him. One of his hands grasped my hip while the other massaged my breast. I met him thrust for thrust, leaning back to brace against the wall behind the dresser, and watched him as he moved.

The muscles along his chest and abdomen constricted tightly with effort, his biceps rigid as he held me, sweat gathering on his brow. His green eyes watched me, drinking in my details as I did his. Despite my earlier orgasm, my body responded to him willingly, as if I had been waiting for this moment—the moment he took me without hesitation. Reaching between us I massaged my fingers against the spot that would push me over the edge. His eyes widened and his jaw clenched firmly.

Arching my back I groaned loudly, nearing my peak. I had never been pushed over the edge just watching a man enjoy my body, but that’s what Owen did to me. The way he looked at me, as if I was a goddess, made me feel sexy and powerful.

His movements came faster, his hand on my breast tightening as the dresser slammed against the wall, again and again. I met him thrust for thrust, wanting to give him all that he needed. Knowing that this was more than physical need and desire. It was so much more.

“Owen, please… there. There. Owen.” I gasped the words.

I climaxed the moment he stiffened, my body grabbing at his hungrily, milking him dry. He half grunted, half groaned before leaning forward and pressing his head between my breasts.

I’d never felt so satisfied.

BREATHE. I HAD to remind myself to breathe. With my face pressed between Ava’s delicate breasts it seemed more like a suggestion than a necessity.

“Ah, fuck, love. That was perfect.” I took a ragged breath and looked up at her. “You’re perfect.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She brushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled at me. She wiggled a little and I stood up, removing my weight from her. “But I think there is a model airplane stabbing my back.”

“Can’t have that.” I scooped her off the dresser and deposited her perfect bottom on the bed before climbing in to wrap her in my arms.

She wasted no time curling into me, her hand on my chest, her leg thrown over mine, her sweet face looking up at me with smiling eyes. She looked sated, satisfied, and pride welled in my chest. I’d put that smile on her face, that dazed, groggy look in her eyes. She sighed, content.

“I love those sexy little sounds you make.” I leaned in so I could nip at her ear. “Especially when you’re loud and telling me what you want.”

“I think we may have been more than a little loud.” She whispered, her cheeks darkening.

“Good.” I shifted so I could pull her even closer. “Teach that boy not to look at what’s not his.”

She snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding. Jealous of a pimply teenager?”

“Not jealous. Just asserting my claim.”

“Your claim?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Damn right.” I kissed the creases on her nose. God help anyone that tried to get between me and this woman.

“And what about the geriatric woman on oxygen? I’m supposed to just be okay with that?” Her eyebrows drew together.

“What’s that?” Had she hit her head on the wall while we made love?

“You said you’d seduce some woman if we needed her to get into the casino.” Hurt flashed in her eyes before she tucked it away. “You’re not the only one with a claim, Mr. Assassin. I don’t fuck random people on dressers. You’re mine, too.”

MINE
, my mind screamed. Yes, she was mine. The thought of her with someone else sent a surge of rage through my system and I took a deep breath. I had no right to claim this beautiful woman, but it was too late. She had found a place in my heart and I would kill anyone that tried to take her away.

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at me.

“Look, I know you’re used to working in this underground world by yourself, but you said we were in this together.” She touched my chest above my heart. “Together. And you aren’t the only one with anger issues. I punched Julie Sage in eighth grade for kissing Tommy Bend. She knew I liked him, but kissed him anyway. I’m not sure what I would do if you took someone else to bed.” Her fingers clenched on my chest and I was shocked to see the fierceness in her gaze.

She constantly surprised me with these darker little bits of herself and I had to admit it turned me on that she would want to inflict violence on someone over me. I tried to get her to meet my eyes, but she jerked her chin up so I couldn’t see her expression.

“I don’t want to seduce anyone, Ava.” I tilted her face so I could see her better. “But I will if it means getting us into the casino. I’d do it so I could keep you safe.”

She looked down at me with hard eyes. “I knew you were going to say that.” She sat up and pulled the sheet over her breasts. “That’s fucked up, Owen.”