Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“The handcuffs are unnecessary.”
“Um.”
“ Completely unnecessary.” She rolled toward him. Toward him in the bed they shared. She also dramatically lifted and shook the handcuffs. One cuff around her wrist. One cuff around his. “I told you that I wouldn’t run again.”
“You did say that, yes.” He’d killed the lights in the small bedroom. Locked the window. Shut the door. Stripped down to just his pants and boxers.
She had showered. Those muddy feet had needed cleaning. And her clothes had gotten caked with mud and who the hell knew what else. So when she’d come out of the shower, with her hair wet and her cheeks flushed, he’d given her his shirt to wear.
It swallowed her.
He was pretty sure she still had on her bra and panties. Pretty sure because they were both black, and he’d seen the black bra through the white dress shirt.
Sexy as fuck.
He was finding way too many things about his new target to be sexy as fuck.
“I get that you’re my hitman bodyguard.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It seems to be. According to Grayson—Agent Stone—it’s a thing. It’s a thing that you are. And considering that I don’t want to be for real dead , I promise, I’m not running from you.” She inched a little closer.
A bad mistake. The woman had no idea just how badly he wanted to pounce on her.
How did I taste?
Her question rolled through his head again. Oh, Luna, you tasted like the best damn temptation ever.
He should not have kissed her on the New Orleans street. He never did shit like that. But he’d wanted her. And for once, he hadn’t cared about holding back. He’d just wanted to take something for himself.
He’d wanted Luna.
He still did want her.
So very problematic.
“You can uncuff me.”
No, he could not. “Glad that you’ve started to trust me.” Fabulous. Really. Maybe it would prevent him from having to throw more snakes into the air. “But I don’t trust you, princess. You were batting those long lashes at me earlier. Pretty much in this same exact spot. Acting all innocent and weak. Acting like you’d give me zero problems, and you’d follow my orders with no hesitation. Then the next thing I know…” His cuffed hand rose and curled under her chin. His eyes had adjusted easily to the darkness. He’d always been able to see well in the dark. “The next thing I know, you’re hauling ass into the night. I don’t feel like chasing you again. I need sleep. You need sleep. So the cuffs are staying on. ” She would not move without him knowing about it. “Besides, you heard Gray. You go nowhere without me. You don’t get out of my sight. Think of the handcuffs as a security measure. They’re keeping you extra safe because they’re tying you to me.”
“They literally are.” Disgruntled. “How am I supposed to sleep in bed with you? I’m not used to sharing a bed with anyone.”
Well, that was certainly an interesting bit of Luna lore. “Don’t have a lover who is wondering where you are, hmmm?”
“No.” Soft. “No one is looking for me.”
“Not true. Lots of killers were looking for you.” And he wanted to know more about how Luna Black had wound up in her current situation. Handcuffed to me. But Ronan knew he should let her rest. Hell, they should both rest. Tomorrow, he’d have to move them to a new location. Find out what new identities Gray had set up for them. He had no doubt that Gray was spending the night pulling strings and getting emergency plans in place.
A clusterfuck of a situation had exploded on the Fed. And Ronan had bailed his ass out in record time.
“How did a hitman become such good friends with a Fed?”
“What makes you think we’re friends? Hate to be the one to tell you, but Gray can be a straight up asshole. He’s super manipulative, by the way. Never forget that fun point about him.”
“You are friends. I can tell. It’s the way you say his name. Gray. Not Grayson. And your tone changes when you talk about him. He might be an asshole, but you like him.”
Truth be told, Gray was the closest thing to a brother that Ronan had. That would be the reason I’m helping his crazy ass.
Gray had almost died a few months back. He’d been tortured. Held prisoner. Been an absolute bloody mess by the time Ronan got to him. Ronan would not be forgetting that terrible sight any time soon. “He’s all right,” Ronan muttered.
“He said you’d saved him over and over again. He thinks of you as his friend, too. I don’t think a Fed would do that with a soulless killer. Wouldn’t vouch for him so willingly. Wouldn’t put my fate in his hands.”
Uh, oh.
“So what’s the real deal, Ronan? Am I supposed to buy that you are some heartless thug? Or is there far more to you than meets the eye?”
Before he could respond, she let out a soft hum then added, “My gut says there is more to you than meets the eye.”
Exactly what he didn’t need. Someone blowing the cover he’d carefully cultivated over the years. “Ronan Walker is a cold-blooded killer. He’s taken out more marks than you can imagine. His name chills the worst scum out there. He gets the job done, and he one hundred percent doesn’t have a heart. So don’t ever make that mistake.”
“You just talked about yourself in the third person.” A yawn followed her words. “Like he’s a character. Like he’s not you.”
Sonofafucker—
“You don’t have to cuff me to you. I’m not running. I want to stay alive, and I believe the best way to do that is to be with you.” She tugged on the cuffs. “Let me go?”
“Not happening.”
“Then I hope you won’t be alarmed when I crawl all over you tonight.”
Sweet hell and heaven, do it.
“Like I said, I’m not used to sleeping with anyone, and I tend to…sprawl.”
He swallowed. “I’ll manage to survive.”
Her hand rose, but not to jerk the cuffs again. Instead, her fingers pressed to his jaw. “Thank you.”
For saying he’d survive?
“I could be in a grave tonight. Instead, I’m alive and I’m with you, and…I think I’m safe.”
“You are.” The words were a vow. No matter what else happened, he would keep her safe.
“Is it safe to sleep in a hitman’s arms?”
It’s safe for you to be with me.
“I think it is.” Soft. Low. “I think I’m safe with you.” Slurred, as if sleep pulled at her.
She’d been running for so long. Luna had to be exhausted. He should reassure her. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Sometimes, he could barely remember what it was like to do the right thing.
His lips parted.
Luna rolled away from him. His arm stretched out with her roll. Curled around her. No choice, the cuff pulled him, so he had to take the pose. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.
“Please, don’t let me be wrong.” Even softer from Luna. “I don’t want to die.”
“I won’t let you die, Luna.”
She didn’t speak again. Her breathing changed, and a few moments later, Ronan knew she’d drifted off to sleep.
He stared into the darkness.
I won’t let you die. What an interesting promise for a hitman to make.
She was sprawled on top of him.
Ronan opened his eyes. He’d felt her crawling on him. Not like he could sleep through that particular bit of fun. She’d started by inching toward him. Then she’d slid a leg over him. Then an arm. And now, she was fully on him. Their arms were a bit tangled, courtesy of the cuffs, but she still made it on top of him. Her mouth pressed to his neck. Her breath blew lightly against his skin.
He stared up at the ceiling.
Hello, hell.
His dick was super happy with this new position. Mostly because her spread legs were right over his groin, and his dick was shoving hard and eagerly toward her.
And she kept sleeping.
His teeth locked. Carefully, slowly, he pulled her off him. And he put her right next to him in the bed.
She did not stir.
Dead to the world.
And she was back on top of him again.
His teeth were clenched so tightly that Ronan’s jaw ached. He stared up at the ceiling. He counted to ten, and that counting crap did zero for him and his aching dick.
She rubbed her hips against him.
Sweet mother of— “Luna!” A growl.
Her mouth pressed to his neck. A definite kiss. So she sprawled and she kissed when she slept? Yeah, one hundred percent, the handcuffs had been a terrible, horrible idea.
How was the woman sleeping this heavily? Dammit, was this from the drugs he’d given her? Ronan had never seen a reaction like this to them. She was boneless on top of him, cuddled so close, and he should not be enjoying the way she felt.
But, jeez, she felt good.
Again, he lifted her. Put her beside him on the bed. Several inches away from him. Sweat trickled down his temple. His dick was so hard it was almost painful. That happened when the sexiest woman he’d ever met kept rubbing against him all night long.
Stay there, Luna.
He scooted as far away from her as he could.
Closed his eyes.
And started counting again. Right. Like that shit was going to help.
She. Was. On. Top. Of. Him.
Ronan’s breath sawed in and out. His heart thundered in his chest. He’d underestimated Luna Black. Clearly, the woman was a master when it came to torture. And he’d faced some sick and twisted torture games over the years.
He’d never given up. Never let the pain beat him.
Her lips pressed to his throat.
Done.
His hands closed around her hips.
She decided to arch against him. Her breasts slid over his chest.
Sonofa—
His teeth ground together. You fucking win, Luna. Round one was going to her. Because his aching dick could not take more of this. He lifted her up. Off him. It took a few minutes of fumbling, but he got the cuff off his wrist. He wasn’t a complete idiot, though—just a horny bastard—so he locked the cuff around the headboard once again. One cuff secured to the headboard, and one still around her delicate wrist.
Then he grabbed his pillow and surged off the bed. His breath still came too fast, tension held his whole body in a death grip, and Luna…
Just went right on sleeping.
He threw the pillow to the floor. Then he was on the floor, too. The cold, hard floor. Ronan glared up at the ceiling.
And Gray had thought it would be easy to watch over her? He could still hear the bastard’s words in his head, right before Ronan had agreed to take the job.
“She’s sweet as can be, Ro. Seriously. A drama teacher. She got caught in a dark and tangled mess and if she doesn’t get a hero soon, the woman will be dead. And I’m not talking easy dead. I’m talking pain and screams and a horror that makes her beg for the men to put her out of her misery. You want that for some innocent?”
“I’m not a hero, Gray. You know that shit.”
“Yeah, duly noted. But that’s why I’m calling you. In this case, I don’t need a hero. I need a hitman. And you just so happen to be in the right place at the right time because I know you’ve already been contacted about her. Luna Black. She needs you.”
Gray could always sound so very convincing.
“You fake her death. You keep her out of sight. Easy. Probably the easiest job you’ll ever have. I mean, come on, what kind of trouble could she possibly be? This isn’t like Tyler and his Esme. Not like I’m getting you to watch some world-class thief. This case will be a walk in the park.”
Utter bullshit.
There was no park, and he sure as hell wasn’t walking in it.
Instead, there was Luna. Lovely Luna. Witchy Luna. Gorgeous, sexy Luna…
Who liked to sprawl when she slept.
Night one…utter disaster. He was aching and needy and turned on for the target. He never crossed lines on the job. Never had even been tempted. He had never?—
“Ronan.”
His body jolted. He leapt up.
She was still sleeping. Only she’d rolled back toward his side of the bed. She’d reached out a hand toward his pillow. And in her sleep, she’d just called his name.
His hands fisted at his sides.
“Is she dead?”
Kurt Vail yanked a hand over his face as he stared at the crowd on Bourbon Street. Dancing and laughing and drinking. The people in New Orleans truly did party all night long. He could sure as fuck go for a drink. Had been drinking actually, until the boss called.
And, of course, the boss hadn’t bothered with any greeting. He’d jumped straight to business. “She is.” He’d seen the deal go down himself. Part of him even wanted to take credit for the kill because there was so much money at stake but…
I know who that big bastard was. Ronan Walker.
He’d seen the snake tattoo on the inside of the guy’s left wrist. For a brief moment, when the lighting had been just right. When he was taking my ass down.
“How did she die?”
Hunching his shoulders, Kurt turned from the crowd.
“Did she tell you everything she knew before you stopped her cries?”
There hadn’t exactly been a lot of cries. The boss wouldn’t like to hear that, though. He always went for pain with his prey. “Someone beat me to the punch.” Not really his fault. The boss shouldn’t have offered so much crazy money for the kill. “Told you not to bring in other hitters.” I could have handled her. My team was ready to go.
“You were taking too fucking long. I needed to chum up the waters.”
His eyes rolled. The boss loved to go shark fishing. Always used stupid sayings about fishing and sharks and… Hell, I know the real deal, boss. I know you dump bodies out there. I know you take people out on your boat in the Gulf, and you chum up the waters with their own blood. Kurt swallowed. “Consider them chummed.” He personally hated fishing. Got seasick.
“Who took her out?”
“Ronan Walker.”
A grunt. “He always gets the job done.”
Give the man a giant cookie. “He also beat the crap out of me and my crew.”
Laughter. Right. Like he should have expected anything else from the boss.
“Sounds like Ronan.”
It sounded to him like the boss was impressed with Ronan. Whatever. “Guy is damn creepy. He kissed her, and he killed her at the same time. Never seen twisted shit like that before.”
Ronan had a reputation for up close kills. Yeah, everyone knew that. But…
The woman never even realized what he was doing.
“Where is her body?”
Another sore point for him. “He carried her away. Heard on the police radio, though, that some college kids saw her being dumped into the back of a car.” But that was all he knew. “You’ll have to talk to your superstar Ronan and find out where he buried the body.”
If he’d even buried it. Maybe he’d tossed her into the Mississippi. That had been Kurt’s plan, after he’d finished interrogating her. “Thought you wanted answers from her,” he muttered. “Ronan didn’t exactly give her a chance to talk.”
“I wanted you to get answers. I don’t trust Ronan enough for him to know my business. When it comes to hits, his reputation puts him at the top of the pack. But he doesn’t get to learn my secrets. You do. You’re family.”
Kurt’s shoulders squared a bit. The boss wasn’t talking some mafia family BS. They were related by blood.
“It would have been helpful to make sure she hadn’t talked to any Feds.” A sigh drifted over the phone. “And to be sure she hadn’t hidden anything that could incriminate me anywhere but…our drama teacher is dead. There is only so much damage that the dead can do.” Satisfaction purred in his voice.
Kurt didn’t think the dead could do any damage at all. “Time for me to come home?” He was a little sad on that point. He liked New Orleans. The beignets were damn tasty.
“Not yet.” The boss had turned thoughtful. “I may have one more job for you. Stand down until I contact you again.”
Hell, yes. Let the good times roll. But curiosity pulled at him. “What’s the other job?”
“You may need to kill Ronan Walker.”
The phone fell from his fingers. And fear slithered down his spine.