Page 35 of Hit Man
“No means no.” He lifts himself up like he’s ready to roll off of me, mumbling, “Fuck. I’ll think of something else.”
I’ve never been a fan of the unexpected. Surprise parties or Guinness World Record breakers or ten grand invested in what I’m beginning to think is a lost cause. If I could find a way, I’d always know in advance when life’s about to send me a curveball so I can hold my mitt up and pray to God I catch whatever comes spiraling my way. From the first moment I saw Diego, I should have realized there’s no holding up mitts, there’s no predicting curveballs, there’s no advance warning about anything. The opposite, in fact. It’s like standing in a field facing home plate, and thenwham, a ball slams into you from behind. Diego, showing up in my bed, kissing me in the garden, driving me mad and bringing out this naughty, daring side of me. He’s as unexpected as it gets. But this falls beyond the realm of the unexpected. This falls under the category of surreal. Is he seriously asking permission to fuck me . . .now. . . ?
“Mierda. Fine. We’ll go for angry. Maybe a lovers’ spat will work. Slap my face.”
His rich chocolate-colored eyes flash full of emotion.You’ve got to trust me on this,he said.
“I’m on the pill. And disease-free.”
I lose my breath when I catch his flash of dimples but as he slowly slides into me, breathing becomes the last thing on my mind. Every ridge, every male inch of him, stretches me, creating this beautiful, mind-blowing friction.
“Dios mío,” he grinds out.
Oh my Godis right.
“You feel me?” he murmurs against my ear. “You keep milking me like that and I’m going to come inside your sweet, tight pussy before I’m completely in. Relax, Aubrey. I need to keep my head on straight.”
I squeeze tighter, and he grits his teeth. “You feel me? I was relaxed. Now I’m not.”
He flashes me his dimples once more. “I’m going to share something with you. I’ve never taken a woman bareback before.”
My mouth drops open at his admission.
He thrusts home and I arch my hips up to greet him.
Of all times, of all impossible situations to find myself in, this takes the prize. For a glorious heartbeat, I allow his words to steal into my consciousness and settle comfortably somewhere in the vicinity of my heart.
“Aubrey?”
“Yeah.”
“Things are about to get nasty,” he warns, stiffening against me.
“Filthy I can handle, but nasty . . . I don’t think so.”
His eyebrows arch, and he gives me a puzzled look. “Can you hear them? They’re coming. Just react normally.” He punctuates his words with a subtle roll of his hips that has me gasping.
I hear the footsteps outside and the door of my bungalow as it slams against an interior wall. The wooden frame vibrates loudly on its hinges.
Three men come barreling into the bungalow. Two have guns drawn. One has a nasty scar that runs from his chin to his eyebrow, cutting straight across his eyelid.
Oh God. I react normally. With a muffled shriek, I buck and wiggle and attempt to move Diego off of me. When that doesn’t work, I smack him in the head.
The trio of men have come to a halt at the foot of my bed. As promised, my nakedness is blocked by Diego’s big body. Yet they’re getting a perfect, up-close-and-personal view of Diego’s bare ass.
He looks over his shoulder, acting as if he didn’t expect them. Doing what he said he’d do . . . making this whole crazy fiasco seem realistic. “Pendejos. Han venido aquí a buscarme pelea?”
“English,” the red-haired man orders, waving his gun.
“Dickheads, you come in here for a beating? Get the fuck out. Pronto.”
He moves, his erection circling against my walls as his weight bears down on me. A shutter of pleasure runs up my body. He pulls the sheet up over us and with a quick look of warning, withdraws.
I bury a moan deep inside my throat.
Climbing off of me, he springs to his feet beside the bed. Leaving me completely covered and my nakedness hidden from their eyes.
The redhead looks from Diego to me and then to the broken bed next to us.
