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He shut her up with a kiss—deep and passionate. She closed her eyes and absorbed his masculine scent. One hand squeezed her ass, while the other snaked under her dress and into the front of her panties. Before she could protest again, he’d impaled two fingers deep into her cunt. She gasped aloud, grabbing his shoulders to keep from collapsing.
A couple people walked down the hall behind them, but no one seemed to care what they were doing. Being so naughty out in the open was oddly titillating. Her clit throbbed, heat rushing out from her womb to her extremities.
Xavier finger-fucked her as he trailed kisses down her neck.
“Did you miss me, baby?”
“Oh God.” She panted, craving his cock. “Are you acting, Xavier?”
“Never with you.” He kissed her forehead and pulled away. “Tonight, I’ll show you something new.” He winked, and her heart did a flip. She’d wanted him to fuck her right there against the wall. That’s how much he pulled her from reality with each kiss.
They strolled around, pretending to mingle, her body still wired. A live band played in the adjoining room, a mix of violin, harp, and piano. A few couples danced nearby.
Xavier held her by his side as they enjoyed the music. It almost felt like a date—minus the dead guy in the bathroom and another kingpin on his radar.
Then Alesha saw her. Her heart stopped for a moment. She squeezed Xavier’s hand. It must be her, the third hit, the one Boss told her about on the phone.
“What’s wrong?” asked Xavier.
Her mouth felt like cotton, and it took her a while to get the words out. “It’s her,” she said. “Widow Maker.”
It was the beautiful woman from the yacht. The one who’d saved her from Dixon. It didn’t make any sense.
Xavier’s entire body tensed, and he looked to the woman on the dance floor in the red skirt. Then Alesha noticed the man she danced with was their second hit. They must be a couple.
Xavier took a step back, and when she checked his expression, there was something distressed in his gaze. He reminded her of a child, lost and confused. She touched his chest, desperate to heal him.
“You don’t have to do this right now,” she tried to comfort. “If it’s too much for you—”
“You don’t understand,” he said. “The Widow Maker is my sister.”
Chapter Twelve
The Widow Maker led the man off the dance floor. There’s no way Xavier was letting her out of his sight. Not now. Not after all this time. Keeping hold of Alesha’s hand, he moved through the throngs of people keeping her in his line of sight.
“I don’t think we should be following her.”
“I’m not letting her get away.” He kept a hand on his gun, Alesha at his back, and ready to take on anything.
He smiled as he passed people, always playing his part. In the time he’d been away, he’d learned there were rules to follow with Killer of Kings. Lives were always at risk, and he had to be ready to take on the entire fucking world if he could.
“This is not a good idea, Xavier.”
“I don’t give a fuck what it is. Boss did this on purpose. He gave me a choice. You or her. I’m not going to let him hurt her.” Knowing Boss, he had already signed her death certificate.
“Boss is not all bad, you know. He’s not going to hurt you just for the sake of hurting you.”
“You’re an expert now?” Xavier asked.
“Are you being a pain in the ass on purpose right now? Calm down, Xavier.”
He wasn’t going to calm down. That was his sister. She’d been a ghost for thirty years. He couldn’t just walk away.
They entered the far corridor. No one was around.
Suddenly, he heard a thud.
All of his senses went on high alert. He made Alesha hold his jacket as he made his way to the door, kicking it open, he held his gun and stared into the eyes of his sister.
