She frowns. "I know it's not easy, but it wouldn't be my first time killing someone. I think I could do it and remain human. Especially if I had you training me."
Now I frown. Crossing my arms over my bare chest. "How and when did you kill them?"
She swallows hard. "The night before I made my final escape. There'd been a client who didn't mind that I was older. He talked Harold into letting me stay with him for the night without a handler. He paid extra for it. I saw the opportunity. If a handler wasn't around I could get away. The guy was into shit I didn't want to do. He'd ordered takeout and had a steak knife with him. I made him think I was going to go down on him while he ate and then I stabbed him in the chest and took the knife. I ran and never looked back. I don't know what happened to his body. No cops ever came for me over his death, so I have to assume Harold or someone covered his death so it wouldn't get out about who he was connected to. I don't feel remorse over it and killing him isn't what keeps me up at night. I wish I could do it to all of them. I want to see them all suffer, and I want them to know it's me ending their lives!"
She finishes the last of the statement with hard movements. Angry tears enter her eyes, and I can't help but step forward and pull her into a hug. Good for her standing up for herself. I would kill the bastard as well. I hate that she had to go through any of that alone. But the thought of making her one of us... I suppose we're already killing off her identity. She would be the perfect hitman. If I trained her, she would be trained right and she would be able to stay in my life so I can always keep an eye on her.
Chapter Fourteen
Gwen
His warmth envelopes me.I realized it before, but even more so now, it's been so long since I felt someone touch my arms. It feels so good to have skin contact with him. I could only imagine what the rest of him would feel like. If only he could look at me like that. I hold him tighter, pressing my head to his shoulder. He feels so good. I wish I didn't have to let him go.
My clit aches with need. I didn't get to finish the other night and having him be here for several days has put my body into a tizzy. I can't take care of myself, and I'm sleeping next to him. Maybe I could talk him into a one-time thing. One fuck doesn't mean we're dating. I want to have sex with someone and have it be on my terms. I want to be able to choose who it is, and I want it to be with him.
Something hard presses against my stomach. Is he turned on, too? I take my chance and press my body more into his erection. Holding on to him tighter, he grunts and tries to pull away.
"Gwen," his voice takes on a warning tone, but I press into him more, moving my core to rub against his thigh.
"No." He puts his hands under my armpits and lifts me away from him. He plants me on the ground and steps back from me until he practically stands in the kitchen.
My heart hammers. I knew he would reject me. I shouldn't have done anything. I couldn’t help it though since my clit still aches for him, and I want nothing more than for him to show me what I've missed with sex. I want it to be mind-blowing and sensual like it is in the movies I've seen. I can feel it, he would be that kind of lover. He would make sure I got off, he would make me feel like goo. Maybe even, he would make it so I don't hate my body. I would have the courage to go out there and find someone. "One time. I'll never tell anyone. I swear. I want you, Porter."
His body reacts to my words, he gets harder as he stands there, and boy does he look large. He shakes his head and moves toward the hatch hall. His fingers comb through his brown hair. "No. I'm too old for you, Gwen. Two more weeks and you can go out and find someone your age. You deserve that. You don't deserve me."
I step closer to him. "I don't care about your age, Porter! It doesn't mean anything to me. For the first time in forever, I feel safe, not because I'm in a bunker, but because you're here. I sleep when you're here. I don't even need the TV when you're here. Ever since I met you, I've never once felt scared of you. I know what you're capable of. I can see it in your eyes, but I know you would never turn that anger onto me. I don't want just anybody. I want you. If you don't want to look at me, I get it. We can turn off the lights."
He frowns and swallows hard. "Gwen, you're beautiful. The scars add to your beauty, can't you see that? They tell a story of how much you've had to overcome. I want you, too, Gwen, but it's me that's not good for you. I'm an old man."
I scoff. "You're not old. Not in the slightest. Trust me on that. You would be one of the youngest I've been with." I let my hands fall to my sides. I wish I could speak so he could hear how desperately I want him.
He grimaces. "Don't say it so nonchalantly like that."
He looks ready to bolt up that hatch and outside.
I step toward him and take him by the hand. I pull him back from the hall. Before dropping it. "I'm not going to force you to have sex with me if you don't want to, Porter. But please stay. At least for another night. I don't want to be alone. I've heard you loud and clear. I won't ever make a move on you again. But will you still train me? I'm serious about what I said. If you don't train me, I'll find someone who will. I know you aren't the only one in New York."
He growls. "You're not getting trained by anyone else if that's what you want to be. If you want it, then you're going to be trained right, and the only way to do that is to train under me."
Porter steps over to where the bed is and lays down the frame so that the mattress can fall back onto it. He then turns to look at me with an expression I can't decipher. He looks like a man having an existential crisis. "And if you train under me, Gwen, no one else gets you. Not my brothers or sister. You're mine and mine alone. You won't learn from anyone else unless I set it up."
A shiver moves through me at his tone. I like hearing that he wants me to be his, even if it's only for training. I sign, "Yes, sir. I'll train only under you."
His Adam's apple bobs. I turn to find my sweater, if this isn't going to go anywhere else, then I'm going to put it back on. I don't want to feel more tempted. My body is already on fire from the look in his eyes and getting a small taste of getting to feel his erection against me.
I reach for the sweater and as I stand, I feel him at my back. I react with the same moves he just taught me. He easily stops me and holds my hands above my head with one of his massive hands holding both my wrists. His hold is tight, but it doesn't hurt. If I want to, I could get out. My chest heaves. Without my hands, I can't ask him what he's doing.
He plucks the sweater from my grasp and tosses it to the side. "I didn't say you could put your sweater back on yet."
I shiver again, I swear the vibrations of his baritone voice can be felt in my clit. I press my thighs together to get some relief and a small whimper leaves me. He leans down, his full lips centimeters from mine. I move toward him but he pulls back. His blue eyes search mine. "Do you want me, Gwen?"
His hold on my hands lessens, but he doesn't let up. I nod.
His other arm moves around my lower back and he pulls me flush with him, his cock presses into my stomach and I can feel him, all of him. I gasp.
"I'm not a gentle lover, Gwen."
I don't want him to be. I want him to take me six ways to Sunday and leave me sated but wanting to do it again. All I can do is move my lips and hopes he understands. I shake my head and stand on my toes so I'm closer to his lips. "I don't want you to be." It feels odd to be moving my lips.
