Page 1 of Hostile Secret
PROLOGUE
GIOVANNI
“Pull up your skirt.”
The flirty air stewardess continues to bat her lashes at me, even after my hoarse order.
She’d wanted this since I boarded the private jet in New York and felt her chestnut eyes all over me.
Within the count of her five erratic heartbeats, she had fiddled with her silk neck scarf, lightly touched my arm, and held eye contact for longer than necessary.
The signs were all there. I’m not blind to them. This happens when you’re elite, an untouchable power player with infinite wealth. Those attributes alone attract women, but add good looks to the mix and the options are limitless.
From first sight, no one would suspect what I’m truly capable of—until it's too late. When I show up, people usually die and then I vanish into the shadows.
That's the beauty of never sharing the parts of my life that matter. I can do whatever the fuck I want and there’s no fall out.
And this woman has zero clue I could slow her pulse to a standstill and enjoy a bottle of Jack Daniels afterwards. It's straightforward.
Initially, the playful nibble of her lower lip had made me contemplate her request. However, I needed time alone to decompress after assassinating my twin brother’s mortal enemy.
One precise bullet from a decent range following days of surveillance, and the asshole had face-planted a fruit platter.
Completing that job was more satisfying than what a meaningless session with this curvyseñoritawould be. Killing is my nicotine, whereas fucking—that’s what I do in my spare time. And extra hours aren’t something I have much of.
The whiskey she’d served me failed to numb my unsettled mood, which is solely due to the forced detour I’m taking.
I tried to distract myself by mentally reliving the crucial last moments of my recent mission, inwardly critiquing my shooting technique to timing ratio. Of course, I’m content with my performance since both were on point as usual.
I’m a natural born killer.
The investment banker who had dared to go up against the most powerful crime syndicate in Colombia didn’t stand a chance against our bestsicario—me—Giovanni motherfucking Souza.
Now, with only thirty minutes until the jet lands on the Cuban island I’m reluctant to revisit, I’m in the mood for a quick fuck before—Christ—before I do the unthinkable.
My next mission is a step too far. It’s an invasion of my watertight privacy, a mental fucking challenge. And completely impossible to get out of.
In the meantime, I watch the cute redhead slowly bunch up her skirt to reveal pantyhose that wake up my dick.
On a woman, tight leather straps or figure-hugging mesh are my thing. The way they wrap the female form like a holster filled with my favorite weapon gets me hard.
“Turn around.” I demand, making her face the rear of the cabin.
By the time she’s positioned in front of my cream leather seat, I’ve freed my boner from behind the zipper of my black combat pants, stretched on a condom, and confidently pulled her onto my lap.
I don’t need an eye-to-eye connection, and kissing her doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest. All I’m up for is a rush of pleasure to balance the scales.
As the pilot announces our descent to Sin Island, I violently thrust my hips upward into the panting flight attendant. She bounces up and down, held in place by my firm grip on her shapely hip bones.
Her needy groans stir my sexual appetite, just enough to keep the momentum going. Given the time constraint, it’s a basic fuck and that’ll have to do. It could be a few weeks before I hook up with another woman again.
After this quick stop off, I’m going back to my isolated sanctuary on the North coast of Colombia—with an unwanted guest.
Returning home has its rewards, which offsets the darkness in my soul except this time it won’t be the same. Once I’ve collected theinconvenience,I’m bound to by sibling duty—my private life will be even harder to protect.
Mentally shirking off my new assignment, I focus on this woman’s inner walls clamping around my dick. I get off on the stimulus of screwing, but don’t quite hit the horny heights of a heart-pounding ride.
Unfortunately, it’s a mediocre experience for me––but for her––she’s making all sorts of feral noises.
