She chuckled as blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. “I thought we agreed to keep things casual.”
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that.”
“Don’t call me crazy,” she seethed, spitting blood at my face.
I wrapped a hand around her neck while the other carefully held the handle of the knife at my side. Cussing, I squeezed my eyes closed as the blade pulled loose from my flesh. Blood followed in a steady stream, but not enough to be of significance. Or maybe I was just too doped up on adrenaline to realize if I was dying or not.
“You lured me here under the pretense of sex, then tried to kill me. What else should I call you?”
“Listen, handsome, not that I’m complaining about that very impressive dick being so close to my face, but I’m having a hard time breathing here.”
We were quite a fucking sight if I ever saw one. There I was, straddling this woman, my cock semi-hard between her tits, bloody as all fuck. Any other circumstance, and I would have gladly stuffed that blooded mouth of hers until she choked.
Tightening my grip around her throat, I gritted my teeth and pressed the blade to her temple.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t put this through your skull?”
The woman smirked, cheeks pink from the pressure of my hold, and tapped on my hand. I loosened my grip, allowing her a few breaths before her eyes fixed on mine. “Maybe you should ask yourself why you haven’t done that already.”
My eyes narrowed, realizing she had a point, yet I didn’t have an answer. Before I could come up with ways to justify my actions, her leg whipped up and around my face and neck until I fell sideways off her body and she rotated above me.
“I’ll give you a few days to marinate on it,” she teased, springing to her feet, slapping my naked ass, and running toward the balcony.
I scrambled to a standing position and dashed behind her, but she’d already fled to the neighboring unit and through an open door.
“Shit! Get back here.”
I nearly ate the carpet while simultaneously trying to run and pull on some fucking underwear. But by the time I tore open the room door, the woman was down the hall and in an elevator, wrapped in a stolen blue robe, and giving me the finger before it slid closed.
Two
LENI
“Fuck!”
I let the cozy robe slide off my shoulders and pool at my feet as I rubbed a hand through the top of my hair, gripping it roughly out of frustration. What the fuck was that? I had never missed a mark. Never spilled my own blood. Never…
Never hesitated.
Pacing back and forth, I cussed in two languages until my throat was raw. I’d let myself get caught up and swept away by his passion. Sure, he was good-looking, but something so trivial had never stopped me from doing my job in the past.
I slit the throat of an Italian mob boss who looked straight off the cover of GQ.
“Fuck you, Silas.” I chucked a vase across the room and watched it shatter against the wall. I was too distracted. Too taken by his words, his attention, and caresses. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had cared about my pleasure. While his mouth was filthy, he made me feel…beautiful, whereas other men just made me feel used. A mutual exchange, of course, but just a hole to get off in nonetheless.
No doubt that’s all I was to Silas, but something in his eyes made me feel seen, not just coveted.
I bent down and picked up a small shard of glass, flipping it in my palm as I admired the sharp edges. I’d been reckless tonight.
Careless.
“So careless,” I whispered out loud, closing my fist around the piece of broken vase until it pierced skin, bringing with it just the right amount of pain.
Stupid.
Not only had I failed to fulfill my contract, but I’d put my life in jeopardy. Silas was a skilled and dangerous man. He could have easily killed me. He’d had the opportunity to do so. Staring at the tiny droplets breaking from my palm and hitting the carpet below, my thoughts spiraled.
He’d hesitated, too. But why?
