Page 43 of Crushed
CHAPTER 13
Scarlett
It’s normal to become obsessed with your target until the assignment is completed. You eat, breathe, and think about the target, imagining the exact moment you will strike, every scenario, every detail that could shift, so that when it comes, you’ve already been through every possible outcome. And if you’re me, an assassin with a moral code, then thinking about the target’s future decisions becomes your exclusive past time.
But when it came to Cormac, I thought most about how he made me feel. Like a goddess he was entranced by, that he needed to conquer and control to her human bones. Warmth crawled in my stomach, inching its way up until the desire was covering every inch of my body. I could imagine his touch on my lips, his gentle fingers running across my cheek. I could imagine his thumbs running across my eyebrows, turning to my cheek, and slapping me in the face. Everything was erotic. Because for once, he wanted to control me, and I wanted to let him.
The next day, he walked through the main floor, heading to the lounge. I ordered a scotch for him and a glass of red wine for myself, then brought it to him. His navy blue suit was flattering, fitting his muscular frame with notch lapels and flat-front slacks, and my mouth watered thinking about what he would look like naked. But I wasn’t supposed to think about any of this, because he was supposed to die,by my hands, in a matter of days.
But the more I got to know Cormac, the less I wanted to complete the assignment. The only reason to go through with it was to complete it for Lizzy, so that she could be comforted by the fact that I would be fine without her.
I stood outside of the booth. His green eyes contrasted with the darkness of the club. The truth was that he encapsulated me.
Because I wasn’t pretending when it came to Cormac Stone.
“Hey,” I said.
He gestured, and I slid beside him. “How did you like our last session?”
The word ‘session’ itself bothered me. It made it seem so clinical. But I wasn’t sure what else you were supposed to call it. Working at the Dahlia District, bordering the gray area between professional submissive, entertainment server, and sex worker, made the word ‘session’ seem like the only option.
But I had a feeling it was more than that to Cormac too.
“It was…” I looked around, trying to find the exact word. “It was amazing.”
A subtle grin glimmered on his lips. The curls were arranged neatly in his light brown hair.
I braved the tightness in my stomach. “What did you think of it?”
“It was beautiful.”
My whole body clenched, but my sex was squeezing tightest of all, thinking of his fingers inside of me again, coaxing me to orgasm. His hand stroked my bare thigh, and his eyes glazed over as he took me in.
“Do you want more?”
If I went with my gut reaction, I wanted to throw myself at Cormac, to try everything with him. But the logical part of me that argued that he was a target, that I had lost my true self and lost my cover somewhere in the caverns of Cormac’s allure.
I hushed that logical part of me with reminders: In the end, I needed to get closer to Cormac, by getting him to trust me. What better way to do that, than to have another session?
It helped that I relished every second of it.
“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely.”
That smirk grew into a full smile at the words. From what I had gathered from Teagen and Iris, he was used to the servers, and probably women in general, from backing out on him. For me to stay as long as I had, must have meant something to him.
“Do you?” I asked.
He lifted his chin. “Do you think I ever do something I don’t want to do, Scarlett?”
A cold heat rushed through me, making my skin clammy. “No.”
“Good.”
My shoulders shrank, and he tucked an arm around me, bringing me closer. “There are certain activities I wish to do, but they require a lot from you. More than you’ve given to anyone.”
“Like what?”
“Your trust.”
