Page 18 of The Assassin
“Lords don’t keep loaded guns around the house. There’s bullets hidden somewhere, but I don’t know that tidbit of information.”
Ardan shoved at him, making Gabriel take a few steps back. He spun on Gabriel with enough heat in his gaze to set him alight. “You’re a fucking prick.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t want it. You nearly begged.”
Ardan sent him a look of disdain as his eyes traveled down Gabriel’s body. His shirt was ripped open, buttonless, and his pants were around his thighs, half hard and tired dick hanging between his legs. “I’d never beg you, Mancini.” He stepped out of his pants completely, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows in surprise. But then Ardan grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer. “I give the orders now, and you’re gonna fuck me on a bed. I don’t care whose bed, but you’d better do it now because come tomorrow, when you leave Pleasant Beach, Iwillkill you.”
Gabriel laughed. “Oh,tesoro, I enjoy this game.”
“Fuck off.”
Gabriel laughed louder.
Chapter Five
They’d fucked three more times in a random bed—Ardan had no idea who it belonged to—and then fell asleep because they were both too exhausted to move. By the time Ardan woke up, he was sore, bruised, and in the bed alone with a note.
Tesoro,
This was fun, but I thought I’d get a head start. I’ll be waiting at Café Cate before I go. Come say hello.
See you soon,
Gabe
Fury pelted him hard and fast and he crawled out of bed with a groan. His clothes were missing, except for his shirt, which was bloody and ripped from their fight-ring match, so he headed to Santiago’s room where he knew he’d find a fresh pair of clothes. Any kind of clothes. Ardan grabbed a few things that he assumed would look slightly baggy, including underwear, and dressed, before he walked down the stairs of the clubhouse.
Ardan found Odin leaning against the bar, half asleep, his eyes flicking open and closed, as though he was trying hard not to collapse right there on the bar. Bodies of men and women lay strewn across the barroom’s carpet, and Santiago’s familiar arms were wrapped around a younger guy who was definitely not a Lord. His bronze ass was on display, but it was nothing new to Ardan. Had it been yesterday, he might have stopped to appreciate the muscular tone of it, but after a night with Mancini, he held no interest in seeing Santiago’s ass, which was irritating to say the least. Santiago had the nicest cheeks Ardan had ever seen. One night with Mancini shouldn’t have changed that. Except, it did.
Odin’s eyes snapped open when Ardan slammed his hand on the bar beside him, and the barrel of a Beretta pressed against his forehead.
Ardan raised his eyebrows, and Odin snorted, lowering his gun.
“Don’t you know not to sneak up on a man who’s falling asleep?” Odin grabbed his half empty tumbler from the bar and finished the rest of the amber liquid inside, wincing. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“I’d like my weapons back,” Ardan said simply, arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t feel comfortable in Santiago’s clothes, but they’d do the job until he managed to get back to the rental car and grab a suit out of his travel bag.
“Why?” Odin blinked at him and twisted to his left, searching the bar. “Have you seen Loki? I need another drink.”
Ardan had a feeling he knew exactly where Odin’s adopted son was, but he didn’t say a word. If Loki wanted to fuck Thor, that was none of his damn business. He couldn’t imagine what Sloan would say if he ever found out that Ardan had been fucked by Mancini.
“I’m heading out.”
“To kill Mancini?” Odin grunted and rubbed at his eyes, swaying in his barstool. If he fell off, Ardan wasn’t going to bother to try catching him. He never understood these bikers and their flavor for alcohol and sex every night. Didn’t it get tiring?
“Yes, but don’t worry, it won’t be in Pleasant Beach. He already left.”
Odin chuffed out a laugh and waved his hand. “You fucking hitmen are all the same.”
“I’m an assassin.”
“What’s the difference?” Odin managed to still himself against the bar and cocked his head, squinting at Ardan. “You’re all part of the Society.”
“The difference is integrity.” Ardan’s gut churned with frustration and his hand curled into a fist at his thigh. He hated explaining this, but most people outside of their world had no idea how it worked when it came to being part of the Society. “And identity. Hitmen are free agents, sold to the highest bidder. Assassins belong to an association, or to one person.”
“Ah.” Odin leaned over the bar and nearly went tumbling forward in his search for something to drink. He managed to get his hands on a bottle of rum and fell back onto the stool. “Is this how all of Society members work then? They fuck, then try kill each other?”
Ardan stilled and evened out his breathing, even as annoyance and panic sliced through him. “What do you mean?”
