I close my eyes, getting lost in the ecstasy that is her mouth. I tilt my head back, pouring my release inside of her. Like the good girl she is, she doesn’t waste a fucking drop of my venomous seed. My eyes are still closed as I revel in my post-orgasm high when I feel it … a shift.
A literal shift, Sienna is stealthy, because no sooner than she swallows the last drop of me does she bolt toward the bar cart. My pants still at my ankles, I chase after her, toward the pistol that her eyes are locked on. She reaches for the pistol as I jump behind her, forcing us both to the floor. I roll on top of her, trying to pin her down.
We lock eyes as both of our hands are on the grip of the gun.
“Give it to me, you bastard!” she yells, trying to fight me off.
“My cock or the pistol?” I sneer.
She spits at me. Her salty saliva stings my pupils as I shake my head to wipe away her spit. I grip her wrist tighter, forcing her hands to drop the gun. I kick the pistol away, keeping my hands on her wrists.
Fuck.
She is sexy when she’s angry.
She takes a deep breath, trying to squirm her wrist from my grip, but she should know better. I have no intention of letting her go.
“You are an evil bastard, you know that?” she says, spitting once more in my face.
“Suddenly decided you’d rather spit than swallow?” I tease.
“What do you want from me, huh? You fucking lured me here. For what? To hire me, seduce me, and then know what it feels like to fuck your kill’s ex?”
I look at her, confused. My tone shifts, because I suddenly feel like everything I suffered for, everything I waited for, is going to be lost.
“You don’t know shit!” I yell. I am coming off angrier than I am. Inside, I am dying with nerves, but I can’t let her see that.
“You’re psychotic!” she screams. “Let go of me, you fucking bastard.”
“That’s rich, coming from the woman who begged to have me fuck her mouth, all the while she has been sitting on this supposed information,” I remind her.
She tries to let go of my grip, but I won’t let her go. Not now, not ever again.
“I’m over you and your games,” she seethes.
“The games have only just begun.” I flash her a wicked grin, tightening my grip on her.
“Give it to me,” she demands.
“Mmm, such a pretty sight, seeing you beg for me. How long I have waited for you to beg for it,for me.”
“I know you killed him, it had to be you!” she says with tears beginning to form in her eyes.
“Killed who? I gather you have figured out what I really do for a living. Let’s try to narrow it down. Who I killed today? Last week? Last year?” I say, evading her obvious question. I know who she is referring to. I was going to tell her, but not like this. Fuck, none of this is going the way I thought it would.
“Think farther back than that, you sick son of a bitch!” she yells with tears in her eyes.
I release her, genuinely wanting to hear what she thinks she knows. “Ok, who, then?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Leo!” she yells. There is such pain drenched in the volume of her voice.
Fuck. My stomach drops. This isn’t going to end well.
“You killed the one good thing in my fucking life!” She shouts.
She doesn’t fight back her tears. She is sobbing. What would be an otherwise ugly sob if it came from anyone but her. But with her, nothing is ugly. Her feelings are valid, raw,real. Unlike me. Everything about me up until this point has been fake, a farce. A sad fucking attempt to mask the pain I carry, the secrets that define me, the past that I have tried to escape.
I want to wipe her tears away. I want to take her right here, right now, but not when she is like this.
