Page 3 of The Hitman’s Obsession

My muscles go tense.

I shouldn’t give a shit. This girl is my target. I’ve been sent here to kill her. But fuck me if a wave of jealousy doesn’t come over me as images of her with some college-aged boy instantly fill my mind. The thought of some skinny little punk with his hands all over her body who has no clue how to please her sends my heart-rate skyrocketing.

I’m fuming with rage. Starting to sweat.

I shouldn’t even be having thoughts like this. Fine, maybe there’s something so hot about her that she got my dick hard. I am a man. But that’s not all that’s going through me.

I’m feeling possessive. And that is something I haven’t felt since I was a teenager.

Since my mom was alive.

I was thirteen, and Mom had brought back another new boyfriend. They were shouting at each other in the kitchen and being so loud I could hear them from my room.

“Don’t talk back to me, bitch! I’ll kill you!”

When I heard that, something inside me snapped.

I got up, grabbed a metal pipe from out back, and marched down the hall. Mom’s eyes went wide when she saw me. I still remember the sound of her voice.

“Roman, no!”

The new guy went down in a heap. I was shocked at how calm I felt afterward. How easy it was to be violent. What shocked me more was that you could get paid for it.

But eventually, it became less about the money and more because I was good at it.

Annie moves her finger faster, rubbing a circle where I know her clit is. Her panties are nearly soaked through, and her T-shirt strains against her big tits as her breaths come faster and faster. Her mouth opens, her eyes close, and her whole body tenses up. I nearly come in my pants as I watch her orgasm wrack her, causing her delicate little body to twitch with pleasure.

My cock is throbbing with desire. My whole body is screaming at me to just take her. Ditch the job and take her. Make her mine.

I should be the one pleasuring you, angel.

These thoughts are insane. I’m jealous. I’m jealous of whatever man she’s watching—whatever man she’s reading about. I’m so fucking jealous that a realization comes to my mind. A realization that should be impossible for a man like me.

I cannot kill this girl.

This is new. I’m actually scared. I don’t believe in destiny. I don’t believe in love. Those things are for suckers. All I believe in are bullets and money.

And yet…

I cannot kill this girl.

A final tremor rolls through Annie. She squeezes her thighs together and rolls to the side, unmoving. You couldn’t ask for a better shot. An unmoving target, a perfect angle. I should be squeezing the trigger right now. Ending this charade.

My phone vibrates. A text from Jimmy.

Finished?

I glance at the message, then back at Annie, and another realization hits me. If I don’t kill her now, he’ll just send someone else for her. Another man with another rifle trained on her.

Another man’s eyes on her…

No. Absolutely fucking not.

I have no choice now. I know what I have to do.

Done, I text back.

For the first time, I’ve lied to my employer.