Hannah and the Hitman

Chapter 19

19

HANNAH

Oh my God.

His mouth was perfect. It wasn’t a dainty peck or a simple first kiss. This was a KISS. His lips pretty much claimed mine with a static zap and when I moaned, his tongue plunged deep. Found mine. Ravaged.

His hands tangled in my hair, tugged gently, angling me as he wanted to deepen the kiss.

I gave over to his mouth, his touch, his control. After my radiation, I vowed to myself that I was going to live life to the fullest. At the time, I thought that meant eating dessert before dinner some days and cutting my hair the way I liked it, not the way a guy did. Not making out with an almost-stranger. Except…maybe my thinking had been too narrow since it was this amazing.

Was I insane? Was I thinking with my vagina? Probably both. Perry would say I was going to hell. Brittany would say I was headed to Pound Town. Mrs. Metcalf wanted me to marry the guy.

I heard his growl. The slight roll of his hips into my center.

He lifted his head. “You’re thinking too much. I can practically hear your brain working.”

I blinked my eyes open. When had they fallen shut? “Sorry, I–”

He shook his head. “It means I’m not doing it thoroughly enough.”

His lips were glossy, cheeks ruddy.

“I can’t get out of my head.”

A little rougher tug on my hair had a gasp slip past my lips. The pain was slight, but it centered my focus on his eyes. On him.

“Better,” he said, somehow finding what he was looking for on my face. Then he kissed me some more. A little rougher, with more pressure of his body against mine and a snug hold on my hair. I was at his mercy here.

My panties were ruined.

Eventually, I had no idea how long he kissed the hell out of me because my brain had definitely shut off, he pulled back, although only enough to murmur in my ear. “I want to cross every single item off your list and add some new ones.”

My eyes were closed, again. I blinked them open. Met his heated ones. So hot, so fierce. He was more aroused than I was, which might actually have been impossible. “Wh–what list?”

Reaching down between us, he shifted his dick in his pants. The action was so male, so virile. And I’d caused that.

My ovaries were fist pumping.

“The list from the plane.” His breath fanned over my skin. “But we’re going to do number six right now.”

I looked left and right. Maybe I should have been more concerned about being seen long before now. We were at the very back of the long rows of shelves, in the W-Z part of the fiction section. Nowhere near the kids’ area or the bathrooms. It was close to closing. No one was probably coming into the library, let alone venturing back this way.

His knuckles grazed my inner thigh, and I had no idea what he was talking about. Wait, when had his hand gotten under my skirt? Oh. OH.

“Nu–number six?” I swallowed when they brushed against my panties. I jolted at the contact, but he was pressed into me from torso to hips that I couldn’t move.

That slight touch had me forgetting what he was talking about. And my name. And why I cared if he was a danger or not.

“So wet,” he whispered.

I moaned.

“From your list on the plane. Number six was to do it somewhere public, where you might get caught. I don’t have a condom and I don’t want a quickie for the first time I fuck you, so here between the shelves where anyone might find us, you’ll come on my fingers.”

Oh my God. OH MY GOD.

Okay. This was the last time I would think it. He officially wasn’t a stalker, if him doing dinner with my family wasn’t enough. No man fingered a woman, then killed her. I never saw on the news about that happening in real life. Not in the crime documentaries that I loved to watch with Brittany. Not in any book I ever read. Fiction or nonfiction.

He nudged my panties to the side and stroked over me, finding me extremely wet. Like, world record arousal. He leaned his head down and softly groaned in my ear.

“Is that all for me?” he whispered.

Should I be embarrassed? Not when he asked like I was giving him a gift.

I nodded and bit my lip, rolling my hips into his touch, wanting more.

“I’d say the library is public and if you aren’t a good girl and keep quiet, you will get caught. I admit, I don’t want anyone else watching you come. I want that all for myself.”

Then he plunged two fingers deep and I bit his shoulder to stifle a pleasure-laced moan.

He growled from the action, then worked me to the brink of orgasm with a speed that showed not only that I’d never been touched by a real man, but that he knew exactly what he was doing. “Fuck, you’re tight. So good. You feel so fucking good. I can’t wait for you to clench my dick this way.”

He was a dirty talker. I hadn’t taken that into account.

I hadn’t taken him into account.

Potent. Overwhelming. Bold. Dark. A tad dangerous.

I loved it.

My hands gripped his arms through his suit jacket, his muscles rock hard. I lifted my head as the pleasure grew and grew. Met his dark eyes. Held them because while he had me pinned to the shelves and fingers inside me, his palm cupping my pussy, I was afraid I was going to fall. It was overwhelming and for a second, I was scared of how powerful it was. Maybe he saw a flare of panic in my gaze because he murmured, “I got you.”

I let go.

I tipped my head back, bit my lip as I rode out the most incredible orgasm of my life.

“That’s my good girl. Fucking gorgeous.”