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4
BANE
I haveno right to be doing this. I shouldn’t even be here.
Holding this girl while she sleeps is the simplest, sweetest feeling I’ve ever known. Being trusted. Being needed. She doesn’t know the first thing about me, and a few moments ago, she was scared out of her mind, but she still fell asleep in my arms. A part of me is still angry with her for being so reckless, but an even bigger part of me holds on to the belief that she is only this carefree with me. Can she sense I won’t hurt her?
She’s out cold now, too, her body limp, her breathing smooth and even. She needs sleep. I wonder how long she hasn’t slept peacefully, worried that someone might break in and hurt her.
I figured she was being dramatic at first, but that little freak-out she went through opened my eyes. She’s terrified, afraid she’ll open her eyes and find someone watching her, or worse.
I can’t imagine why anybody would want to hurt someone so precious and innocent, but then I know how the world works. I know there doesn’t have to be a reason, at least not a logical one. Some people just want to hurt others. It’s the only way they can derive satisfaction.
And me? I take care of things. I get them out of the way. I don’t get any sick sense of pleasure from it, but that doesn’t change anything. I still am who I am.
And if this girl knew what I did for a living and that I don’t need the money she’s willing to give me—however much that is, since we haven’t discussed it—she would jump up from my lap like it was on fire and throw me out of here.
I doubt she’s ever slept in the arms of a hitman.
I should tell her. She deserves to know the man she wants to trust has taken more lives than he could keep count of. Not that I would try to—I’m not some perverted asshole who likes to keep track of his kills. It’s a job, nothing more than a service to others. I get paid to get rid of people like the one Dakota is afraid of, but for her, I’ll do it for free.
And if he exists, and he was in front of me at this very moment? No doubt about it. He would breathe his last in this room, here and now.
She mumbles something in her sleep and curls up a little tighter in my lap. Something in my chest swells and warms. Is this me? I barely recognize myself, holding still while she makes herself more comfortable, reluctant to wake her up when she’s finally sleeping.
Being a protector is new. I’ve always been the enforcer. The muscle. An unspoken threat. People look at me and don’t see a man who will save their life. They see the man who’s going to hurt them—whether I actually do is another story. But then again, it’s not up to me to force people to look beyond their preconceptions. They’re going to assume what they’re going to assume.
But she didn’t. She looked at me and didn’t thinkbig, scary guy. No, that only happened when I gave her a reason by scaring the shit out of her.
She isn’t scared anymore. She’s sleeping, peaceful, and hopefully having a nice dream.
She’s also shifting in my lap again, this time rubbing up against my crotch. It doesn’t take much to get me hard. Dammit. Like I wasn’t already distracted by her warm, tight little body. She moves again—this time, whimpering softly along with it.
Mother of God. She’s going to kill me. Either I need to get her off my lap or I’ll end up with a mess in my pants. “Hey,” I whisper, my lips close to her ear. It’s so easy to be tender with her. I’m not a tender man by nature.
“Hmm?” She lifts her head, eyes half closed, her voice thick with sleep. Suddenly, she sits up straight, and her face goes red. “Oh. Oh god, I’m sorry. What am I doing?”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I fell asleep in your lap. What am I, a child?” She tries to wiggle her way off, but that’s not helping my already raging erection—not to mention the way she rubs against me, tits brushing my chest and arm. There are limits to a man’s self-control, and she’s testing them.
“It’s all right.” Meanwhile, I’m trying to hide my hard-on so she won’t get the wrong idea. “It was sort of nice.”
“Nice?” She arches an eyebrow. “You sat here with me drooling all over you, and it was nice?”
“You don’t know what I consider a good time.”
When she blurts out a laugh, I can’t help but laugh with her—and it must be that easy, gentle laughter that leads me to brush aside the hair stuck to the side of her face, caught between her skin and my shoulder all this time. Jesus, how is her skin so soft? And her eyes, the deepest shade of blue. Eyes that now stare deeply into mine.
It’s just as natural as anything else having to do with her, with us. The way I take her by the back of her head and pull her close while leaning in to touch my lips to hers.
There’s no jolt of surprise. No stiffening, no gasp. Without hesitation, she melts into my kiss with a sigh. Like she was waiting for the chance to do this. I shouldn’t, even with her acting all eager the way she is. I should be the smarter person. The stronger one. She doesn’t need a man like me touching her like this, indulging in the feel of her ass and her firm, full tits and everything I can get my hands on.
I shouldn’t help her straddle me either, but here we are. I’m holding her by the hips and pulling her down, grinding her against me while lifting my hips to grind back. “Oh my god,” she whispers, eyes closed, her head falling back as I drive myself against her pussy. The thin leggings she wears allow me to trace the curve of her ass until she moans.
Then she opens her eyes, her head snapping up. “What’s your name?”
“Bane,” I grunt, thrusting upward before lapping at the smooth, soft skin of her throat. She sucks in a surprised little breath when my teeth graze her, but the way she digs her nails into my shoulders encourages me to do it again.
