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Those shoulders of hers shake and I frown. Suddenly my title feels like a burden and my body tenses in aggravation. I don’t want her to see me as a killer but a protector. She has no idea what I can do, how fast I work, how many men I can take down at once at the same time. Maybe she’d even be impressed if I told her and inwardly I groan at the thought of her, looking up at me with sudden devotion.
“Don’t hold it against me,” I rasp and flare out with my hands, “I know what this looks like but it’s not what you think.”
Her face relaxes for a moment, allowing me to see her full beauty and it hits me like a fist in the chest. “It’s not? Then you didn’t come here to kill me?”
Fuck. Why does she have to put it like that? “Not anymore,” I finally respond and her face turns a paler shade. Letting out a yelp that makes her sound like a baby bird falling out of its nest, she bolts out of bed and runs out of the room.
I curse, clenching my fists and I don’t blame her but I still think it’s a shame she wouldn’t listen. Furious, I march after her. I’m not going to let her run from me, or block me from helping her. She needs me.
But I think I need her more.
****
Ava
My breath catches in my throat as I run down the hallway. I’m screaming but I don’t know who I’m screaming for. There’s nobody around other than the hard man with the soft touch and the appealing edginess. I shudder when I’m reminded of how it felt when he crawled into bed with me, held me down with a strength that made me want to be weak...
I let out a yelp, turning a corner and run down another hallway. I’m heading for the door and then I’ll race outside. Inwardly I curse. Why does this house have to be so damn big? It feels like it’ll take forever until I reach the exit. I squeal when the intruder suddenly tackles me and we slide over my shiny floors, simultaneously taking a bust down in the tumult and the head rolls before cracking against the wall.
He curses, reaching for me and my body molds into his hands as if I’m suddenly his to manipulate. My behind presses against his crotch, my body slithering underneath his and he groans at the friction.
“You want to get rid of me or enslave me?” he growls in my ear and shivers blow up between my thighs. “If it’s the former then I suggest you stop kneading my dick.”
I still, turning limp for a moment before I start struggling again. He said it himself, he came here to kill me and my survival instinct is running rampant and suddenly I’ll do anything to stay alive. “Let go of me,” I whimper but my eyes roll back in shock when I become aware of just how much my body responds to him.
It craves him, wants to be sacrificed to him and relish in the surrender. It’s thrilled to have him on top of me, ready to throw a party and parts of me that I’ve never been aware of before are suddenly burning. His own body is just as aroused, brimming with an energy that demands my total submission. I’m used to people demanding things. People have always required I give them this and that but this man doesn’t want something I can do for him.
He wants what I already have. Anything he wants, he can do to me now. He’s powerful, fully in control and I won’t be able to stop him if he decides to yank his belt down and settle in between my cheeks...
The floor screeches when he maneuvers himself on top of me and my jaw slacks when it dawns on me that he’s first and foremost a red-blooded male. With male parts and right now he’s so aroused that he may as well be holding a weapon to my lower back. It overwhelms. I turn dizzy when I go limp and helplessly lean my cheek against the floor. The space between my legs feels needy and I want to slide a hand under and cup myself, but I almost cry out in agony when I realize I won’t be able to rub it out. Only my killer can ease this sudden torment.
“That’s it,” he groans in approval. “Easy. Not going to hurt you...”
He slowly pulls back but carnal desire still tinges the air and I roll over to my back, looking up at him with confused eyes. “Whywon’t you hurt me?”
“I happen to draw the line when it comes to killing angels,” he rasps and I relax underneath him. He’s not a stone cold killer, not when I look a little bit closer. His eyes are tired as if he wants to take off his cloak of darkness and be good for once. “But what I do kill is those who want to harm them.”
I gulp and my pulse reacts to the intensity in his eyes. His gaze leaves my face for a moment as if he just realized there’s more of me and his eyes greedily slide down my body. I may as well be naked, my nightgown is short enough to flash everything as soon as I bend over and the top is made out of mesh.
He can see the pink tips through the fabric and I wince when they turn into little attention seekers and stiffen. The man licks his lips, his eyes turning hazy as if he wants to put his mouth on them and suck a starlet dry. His muscles flex against me and I let out a pant, curling my fists when I almost yank him down to my breasts.
What is wrong with me?
The man came here to murder me but all I want is for him to murder me between the sheets. My cheeks heat and I avert my gaze, taking a couple of trembling breaths and he puts his mouth to my ear.
“We’re going to do this my way,” he rasps, “I’m going to give you some space and you won’t try to run again. You have to trust me, Ava. I only want to help you.”
Sudden tears prickle my eyes. Help me? Nobody has ever wanted to help me, just use me and milk me like a cash cow. This man though, makes me feel like a woman, one who has something to offer besides her ability to roll in the dough.
I nod and he pulls away again. The loss of his body feels like a hard slap to the face and I think I liked it better when he was on top of me. He pulls me to my feet and he’s more than a head taller than me, probably in his early thirties and I’m surprised his lifestyle hasn’t made him look older.
Biting my lip, I murmur, “What’s your name?”
“Harmageddon Jonas but call me Harm.” When he notices my raised brows, he adds, “My old man was a wannabe rock star, hence the fucked up forename.” He rubs a hand down his shaved head, his brows curving over his eyes and that energy of his is pure steel, sharp like a blade and everything about him is hard but he knows how to be gentle when he touches me.
“We’re a team now, got it?” he asks with a determined jerk of his chin. “You’re going to have to work with me.”
My body’s already volunteering and I clasp a hand over my forehead, leaning against the wall for balance. “Work with you how?” I breathe.
