Tonight, I follow orders to the T.
“Ready?” I ask her when I return to the table, leaning over her shoulder and inhaling her scent like the elixir of life.
“Yes,” she breathes.
She’s going to be hard to resist tonight; she smells divine, even with alcohol wafting from her breath.
The urge to dose her and have my way with her is overwhelming. Things have changed between us, but she’s still my pretty poison I want to play with.
We get outside, and the cool night air bleeds into my lungs, calming some of the racing adrenaline from killing. My dick is hard, and there’s no helping that. I only hope Greer does nothing on the ride home to make the itch in my bones worse.
“Put your helmet on,” I growl, grabbing mine and meaning to do the same, but Greer’s hand stops my movement.
My eyes flick down to watch as curiosity fills her face.
“Hold still. You’ve got something on you.” Her thumb swipes over my cheek before she turns the tip of her thumb in the minimal light from the bar’s front lights to examine it.
Grabbing her hand, I rub Noah’s blood into her skin so she can’t realize what it is. “Put your helmet on.”
“Are you bleeding?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“No.”
Stuffing my helmet on, I mount the bike and wait for her to do the same.
I’m not giving her any info.
I can’t.
The people I work for will come for me if they knew I was compromised.
Having Greer in my possession could already be viewed as a threat. If they find out I took her on a job, I’m fucked.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Get on the bike, poison!”
Without another word, she gets on behind me, her arms wrapping around my stomach.
Her hands on me are doing nothing to calm my racing thoughts. I rev the engine before turning the front end to pull away from the bar.
“Hang on, pretty poison, I won’t be easy!”
Speeding off, I grin as she tightens her hold on me.
She’s none the wiser after I just killed a man, and it needs to stay that way. Sure, she knows I’m a killer, but if she thinks she knows everything about me, she’s got another thing coming.
After showering, I step out of the bathroom to find Greer lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan above. The relaxed nature of her body tells me she’s still decently buzzed from alcohol and the ride home.
She’s been silent.
When she arrived, she went through her nighttime routine, which I know all too well, and then got into bed.
She’s in panties and a T-shirt, and I grind my teeth at the sight.
“Breaking rules already? I didn’t know you liked to push the envelope so much.”
“You don’t know me at all,” she snaps.
