Page 81 of The Cute Psycho

The idea isn't so bad. Marcello might try to kill me, but at least we wouldn't be sneaking around all the time. I'd even be able to see her in daylight, a fact which has proven mightily difficult so far. You'd think us vampires with our nocturnal schedules.

But the more time I spend with her, the more I crave her. It's not nearly enough that I get her near, listening to her laughter, tasting her very essence.

"God," I groan out loud, reaching down to adjust my cock. It's a common occurrence now. I only have to think about her and I'm instantly hard. It's that simple.

Hell, the other night at the beach I'd been so crazy for her I'd come in my pants. Awkward, but I'd been able to brush it off by suggesting another dip in the water. Her smell, taste, just the feel of her pussy on my tongue had been an experience unlike any other.

And as someone who'd previously scoffed at the idea of gettingthatup and close to another human being, I find that now I can't get close enough.

For that, I need to do my best not to screw things up. I know I don't have too many things going for me, and that she could do a whole lot better—and more normal—but I have to show her that even with my flaws I'm the best choice.

Good thing I have strong protections on my computer, because it would be embarrassing to look through my browsing history.

What type of trained killer searches tips on how to romance a woman?

Even worse, what type of assassin spends his time on women's forums cataloguing date ideas? I'd be an embarrassment to the entire assassin community, if there even is such a thing.

Would my victims even fear me anymore if they knew I spend hours picking out women's clothes? Or that I now know there are different shades of blue? I must have memorized the entire color palette in my search for something Sisi would love.

Fucking hell!

I'm really losing it this time.

"You're here." She opens the passenger door, climbing up. She's out of breath from running toward the car, but her smile is wide on her face.

"You're here," I repeat numbly, sounding like a broken record.

Sisi doesn't waste any time and leans forward, giving me a quick kiss.

"So, what's on for tonight?" she asks excitedly, and I find myself leaving behind all my apprehensions, seeking instead to soak in her presence.

"Tonight, we go hunting," I tell her, quickly detailing my plan.

Papillion works a bit differently than the Block, another of Jimenez's most famous clubs.

As I'd combed through the footage, I'd marked a pattern. The club opens up at twelve, operating as a normal strip club until two. Then, insiders are invited to the basement to watch the entertainment of the night and bid on their favorites. Enzo hadn't been kidding when he'd said immigrants were the main attraction.

The club receives requests for different types of people from around the globe, but instead of fulfilling them in a one-time deal, they prefer to make buyers fight for the merchandise, and as such raise their profits. It's all quite ingenious, from a business standpoint, since apparently Papillion's ability to outsourceanytype of human is unparalleled.

I can definitely see why Miles would be a regular in such a place. Now, though, I'm curious to know what personalized requestsheputs in.

Luckily, from what I'd been able to glean, the host calls out the specifications, thus putting the potential buyer on the spot and ensuring potential competition gets wind of it to drive the prices up.

The entire scheme is brilliant, and I can only imagine the type of money Papillion brings in.

Our plan is pretty straightforward. Sisi and I would go inside, hang around until called for the auction and then be on the lookout for Miles' people.

The outfits I'd gotten us should help us blend in. I'd gone specifically for a style completely unlike my usual one. That way, even ifsomeone might know me, they would be thrown off by two things — Sisi's presence and my clothes.

"Are you serious?" Sisi arches an eyebrow at me as she finishes donning the clothes I'd gotten her.

"Damn," I whistle, admiring the view.

Okay,maybeI should have gone for more conservative.

She's wearing a pair of leather pants that accentuate her legs, the bold contour of her ass making men want to weep. Certainly, my dick approves. My head, though, not so much, since everyone else will be seeing the same thing.

For her top I'd gone for a simple black shirt, this time making sure there's no cleavage showing, since her tits are a one-way ticket to hell for anyone whose eyes stray even a little bit.

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