Page 9 of The Hitman's Forbidden Obsession

She nods, then laughs softly, sounding nervous. “Can I tell you a secret?”

I keep my face neutral, but my pulse spikes. Does she know she’s in danger? Or does she know who I really am? I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod my head, tilting the corners of my lips up into a smile for her.

Avery nibbles on her lower lip for a moment before speaking. “This is kind of my first real date, you know. Like... dinner, conversation, whatever else is supposed to happen.”

I blink, and the earth tilts. “Really?”

Her cheeks are bright red, her fingers still playing with the edge of her water glass. “You’re surprised,” she says, almost shyly.

“Of course I’m surprised,” I reply. “A girl as incredible as you. How is that possible?”

Her shoulders rise and fall in a tiny shrug. “I just never met anyone I liked enough to go out with, I guess.”

Jesus Christ.

Something primal and sharp detonates in my chest, and I vow to myself that I’ll give her every first she’s never had. Every damn one. And I’ll ruin her for anyone else while I do it.

“Well, then,” I say, leaning forward. “I guess we’ll just have to make it a good one, won’t we?”

Her smile is tentative. Cute as hell. “I guess so.”

For the rest of the date, I can’t stop staring at her lips while she’s talking. Can’t stop watching the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she gets self-conscious. The way she laughs, her eyes shining with warmth and something unguarded.

I want to touch her. Constantly. My fingers twitch restlessly as I battle with the urge.

She starts talking about her job at the library and her favorite childhood books, but I’m only half-listening because my blood’s rushing like a drumbeat in my ears.

I bet my angel doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me.

When the plates are cleared and I’ve paid the bill, we step outside. The air is cooler than before, and stars are starting to blink in the night sky. She wraps her arms around herself, and I notice the goosebumps standing out on her bare arms.

I don’t have a jacket to give her. Didn’t think I’d need one. So I do the next best thing.

I slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her close to my side. Her body fits against mine like it belongs there. Like she was made to be tucked under my arm. She doesn’t pull away. In fact, she leans into me, warm and soft.

We walk a few steps, her heels tapping lightly on the sidewalk, her perfume wrapping around me like a goddamn drug. My jaw flexes. My patience frays.

I can’t take it anymore.

I stop walking and she tilts her head to look up at me, a question just forming in her eyes.

Before she can ask it, I back her into the shadows. Her back hits the brick wall with a soft thud, and I cage her in with my body. My hand slides to her waist, my other braced beside her head. Her breath catches as she looks up at me with wide eyes and parted lips, like she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

I dip my head just enough for our faces to hover close.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this,” I murmur, voice low and rough, “since the second I saw you.”

Then I kiss her.

Not gently. Not cautiously.

Hard. Hungry. Like I’ve been starving for her for my entire life.

She gasps against my mouth, soft and startled, but she doesn’t hesitate. Her hands fist in the front of my shirt, yanking me closer like she needs me the way I need her. It’s not sweet. It’s not careful. It’s messy, wild, desperate.

She parts her lips and I take full advantage, deepening the kiss, claiming her mouth like it’s mine. Because it is. The first swipe of my tongue against hers has her moaning into me, and Jesus, I feel that sound like a bullet to the spine. My hand curls around her waist, dragging her tighter against me, and I feel every soft curve press into me like she was carved to fit.

She tilts her head, angling for more, like she wants to drown in it. Hell, I’ll let her. I’ll gladly go under with her.

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