Page 17 of Hostile Secret
Afterwards, I knocked back a shot of whiskey in the hope it would kill the lust bubbling in my veins. One measure turned into half of a bottle and then I dragged my ass to bed, still horny as fuck.
I’d trapped India in her suite as a precaution. Even though the house is wired up to a hundred different surveillance cameras, I don’t want her wandering around at night, or sneaking Dré’s dog upstairs to share her bed. One day, when the dog is dead, she’d thank me for it.
I’ll give the girl credit. She has a backbone of steel that not only tests my tolerance levels but intrigues me too. I’ve never encountered a female who possesses so much reckless fire and confidence.
Despite putting two-thirds of a house between us and a locked door, nothing would stop me from entering her room if my mood swayed. It simply prevents her from getting out.
That pain in my ass staying in the main house has no idea how easy it would be to slip into her room unannounced, without her even knowing I’m there.
I’m well used to biding my time and watching unsuspecting hits through a pair of binoculars or the scope of my favorite rifle, and Blackwater isn’t your average manor house. It’s a maze of hidden passageways and vacant rooms.
I guess it’s pretty screwed up to get turned on by the thought of spying on her. But I don’t care. This is my territory. Which means the rules are mine to make and mine to break. This way I can honor the promise I’ve made to myself to keep her at arm’s length, all the while seeking gratification in the comfort of shadows.
I’m still not sure where all this pent-up sexual tension came from. Out of nowhere, she radiates so much lust it practically burns the flesh off my bones when I touch her.
Long before Reno was murdered, India was the little kid in the background who listened to music and read adult thriller novels.
She was just there––and I definitely never thought about cuffing her wrists to a wall mounted hook in order to get better control of her. Those urges had never crossed my mind. So, why the fuck am thinking about them now?
I sigh loudly. It’s not like I’d actually stick my dick in her snug pussy or cum inside her sweet mouth. That’snevergoing to happen, because another complication would stretch my limits.
The wild storm had moved inland. A howling wind spins the weathervane bolted on top of the turret above her bedroom.
I wickedly smile to myself, knowing the creaky noises would freak her out. Bet she’s not feeling so courageous now or wishing for a conversation with a ghost.
Not that I’d comfort her if she’s scared. I have no intention of replacing her brother or reacting to the maddening attraction eating away at me.
This is clear cut. She’ll live in Blackwater for a couple of months and then we’ll never have to cross paths again. Unless I’m visiting my twin and she’s hanging around the pool with those perky tits of hers testing the limits of another bikini.
Pushing aside that hot as fuck memory, I fist my boner and let out a frustrated growl. I’m alone tonight, which is probably for the best.
Despite the fact, there’s no chance I’d be able to sleep with this unsatisfied ache in my dick. Christ, it hasn’t been this hard in a long time.
Flicking back the rich cotton sheet, I throw my legs off the bed, step into a pair of black joggers, and pocket my cell phone, choosing to remain bare chested.
Outside of my domain, I wear nondescript clothing and keep my inked torso covered. When I’m at home, that's when the real me comes out to play.
I don’t take the typical route out of my master suite, because this isn’t a normal house.
The front of Blackwater Manor is a smokescreen specifically tailored to my requirements. It’s my safe house. My extended multimillion dollar home is kitted out with high-tech security devices and state-of-the-art software. From the roadside it might be considered a nightmare in architectural form, however, I think it has a certain character. Plus, with all the modern security I’ve added to it over the years, it’s impenetrable.
Uninvited guests are prohibited from entering and if they attempt to break into my property, they die. No hesitation or questions asked.
I have too much to protect and this secluded home is where I take refuge from thesicarioswho think they’re better than me.
Those bastards aren’t. I may be a notorious hitman in the criminal underworld, but I’m also low key and impossible to track down.
A roll of thunder reverberates through the hidden passageway I’m prowling along. It doesn't take long to reach the front of the house between the walls surrounding my sweet little prisoner.
Which is exactly what she would become if she ever dares to mention this place in a conversation—or if she disobeys me. Either way, once you step foot in Blackwater, it's my decision whether you leave or not.
I peek through the circular peep hole that gives me an uninterrupted view of her big bed. This is the perfect place for surveillance without getting too close.
Rather than huddling under the sheets, she’s pacing the carpet I had fitted days before her arrival.
The color had reminded me of her eyes, so it was the perfect choice.
My chest tightens when I see her cell phone pressed to her ear. I slow my breathing to settle my heart rate and listen.
