“Mhm, fuck, Hitch.”
“That's it, crazy girl, slam down on my dick."
Listening to him, I slammed down, taking him deep inside me, pinching my clit for added pleasure with his balls still clasped in my hand.
The room was quickly filling with heat, our breaths mingling in the air. The rhythm of our bodies matched the pulse in my ears, a frantic drumbeat of desire. I gasped, riding him faster, letting the pleasure consume me. The handcuff's grip tightened on his wrists, the metal biting into his skin, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered but this moment, this feeling.
"Fallon," he groaned, his voice raw with need. "I'm fucking close."
"Me too," I managed, my voice strained.
The world narrowed, focusing solely on the exquisite sensation of him filling me. His thrusts became frantic and desperate, and then, with a guttural cry, he exploded inside me, sending shivers down my spine.
I collapsed onto him, gasping for air, the aftershocks of the orgasm still wracking my body. Once I undid the cuffs, his body rolled onto mine, and his weight pinned me, warm and heavy, and I reveled in the feeling of being completely possessed. Slowly, his breathing steadied. He shifted, lifting himself slightly to look at me, his eyes now soft with contentment. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle.
"Wow," he breathed, a smile playing on his lips. "That was...incredible."
I smiled back, still feeling the lingering afterglow. "It was," I agreed, my voice a husky whisper. The scent of him, the feel of his skin against mine, the memory of that raw, uninhibited passion... It was intoxicating.
"So," he said, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes, "what's next?"
I tilted my head, feigning thought. "I don't know," I said, my voice playful. "Maybe we should go Christmas tree shopping?"
He laughed, a rich, rumbling sound that filled the room. "I'm in."
As we lay there, talking, I thought about Brady and the plan to take down Evander Foley. It was a dangerous game, but at that moment, surrounded by Hitch's warmth and laughter, the world felt…manageable.
eight
a killer stakeout
War
My fingers traced the edge of the blade, a shiver chasing the familiar sharpness. Crimson stained the hilt, snagging my gaze, pulling me in. I thought I'd cleaned it properly, but I guess a few specks remained.
The rumble of approaching plows snapped me back, my focus lurching across the street to the brownstone—her brownstone. I was slumped low in my pickup, nestled amongst the parked cars, peering through the tinted windows, waiting for my latest obsession to emerge.
I couldn't shake the image of her storming into my house, ready to tear me a new one. Such a fucking firecracker. And God, I fucking loved it.
I needed to remember she was just a mark, a job. And I was forbidden from touching her. Damn E and his stupid, fuckingrules. If he wasn't so infuriatingly tight-lipped about why he's paying me to watch her, I wouldn't be so consumed. But the secrecy, the mystery of it all, only deepened my fascination.
“Fallon…” I murmured her name aloud, savoring the sound as it rolled off my tongue, a jolt of heat slamming into my groin.
I wanted to tangle my fingers in her silken blonde hair, tugging until tears welled in her green eyes. That delicate neck… I wanted to squeeze until her exquisite face turned red, until she was clawing at my hands, begging for air. I wanted to take my blade and etch into her flesh, mapping every inch of her tanned skin, and tasting the forbidden blood that spilled from the wounds.
I wanted her to know who truly controlled her.
But I couldn't. She was off-limits. Just a job. And yet, each glimpse of her ignited a burning need to possess her, to break her in the most wicked ways.
As the plow trucks rumbled past, I inhaled deeply, preparing myself. I couldn't let her consume me. I had to stay detached, in the shadows, watching from afar. I leaned back in the cab, my eyes fixed on her brownstone, waiting for her to appear. This was my life now: observing, waiting, and battling the urge to claim her. But no matter how hard I fought it, Fallon had burrowed under my skin in a way no one ever had. And I wasn't sure I wanted to resist much longer.
Her laughter rang in my ears, even over the incessant hum of the city that never slept. I reached for my binoculars, placing the knife on the console. A curly-haired boy bounced onto the porch, followed by my beautiful, defiant Fallon. A smile tugged at my lips, but it faltered as I saw the man she was with the other night and a man who was her spitting image emerge from the house too.
I gripped the binoculars until my knuckles cracked. Jealousy—a foreign, unwelcome emotion—surged through me. She wasn'tmine. Yet. But she would be, and the thought of another man near her was a threat. All of that was out of my control right now. All in due time… As they piled into her sleek black Mercedes, I started my truck, tossing the binoculars onto the passenger seat.
I don't know where you’re going, little bunny, but it looks like I’m coming with you.
The engine roared to life, and I followed them, keeping a safe distance, careful not to raise suspicion. Adrenaline flooded my veins, the thrill of the chase coursing through me. It was a game, and I was determined to win. They wove through the city streets, and I stayed hot on their tail, focused solely on her. I knew she was hiding something, and I would uncover it. It was only a matter of time before she realized that she belonged to me, whether she knew it yet or not. And when that moment arrived, I'd be there to claim what was rightfully mine.
