After we devour our meals, we perch on the suede couch, and I pat my dress pants. As she slithers on my lap, I kiss her forehead, and she sighs, leaning into the crook of my neck.
“You want to Netflix and chill?” she asks, slinging her tiny arms around my shoulders. Her strawberry perfume invades my nostrils, and my dick twitches to life.
Every time I’m around her, I feel like I’ve known her for a very long time and time doesn’t exist.
Smirking, I move her thick hair to the side so I can get a direct look at her elegant neck. “Skip the Netflix, and get right down to fucking.”
Excitement dances in her eyes, and her cheeks flush. “I mean actually just chilling and watching a show on Netflix. I’m still sore down there.”
She squirms on my dick, and I’m trying so hard not to lose my shit. I’ve never had a woman affect me like she does. I can’t fight the disappointment growing inside of my chest as I lean down and press my lips to her soft flesh. “Yeah, what do you want to watch?”
“You watchedYoubefore?”
I shake my head. “Never heard of it.”
She grabs the remote from the glass table and clicks the Netflix button. The logo pops up on the screen. “This show is awesome, although the book is better. It’s about a man who has an obsession over women, so he kills for them, or he kills people who get in the way of them being together.”
I don’t respond, and the first episode begins, and then the next one and the next one. I’m trying to concentrate, but being so close to her isn’t helping. My imagination is running at the idea of us living here forever and how the universe has brought her to me. My heart thumps in my chest as I stroke her cheek.
“His work is amateur. I’m surprised he hasn’t got caught,” I murmur.
Her gaze widens as she tips her head to the side, and shock spreads across her face. It lights up the dim room. “You really do kill people for a living. I thought you were joking.”
My body stiffens. “No, I really am a murderer for a living. Does it bother you?”
She shakes her head and studies my face like it’s a map. “If you were like Ted Bundy or Ed Gein, then yes, I’d run for the hills, but it’s your job. You’re not doing it just to do it. If I could stomach it, then I’d probably do it. So, no judgment here.”
“Really?” I say, surprised.
She nods and slides her fingers across my scalp and uses her other hand to tug on my goatee. It feels nice. “Do you love your job?”
I shrug. “It’s a job like any job. People tell me who they want to kill, and I kill them.”
“How much do you charge?”
I leave another kiss on her flesh, and she giggles like a schoolgirl.
“Five million and up. People contact me through word of mouth. I work with the mafia family here in New York City.”
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Can I study you for research for my podcast?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like ask you a ton of questions on what’s behind a hitman’s life.”
I shake my head. “No, it will be too dangerous, and I have a lot of enemies who will want me dead if they figure out who I am.”
She strokes my ear. “How did you get into being a hitman?”
“A guy my adoptive mother was seeing was part of a mob, and I needed a job and fast cash, so he hired me as a hitman. My first kill was a man named Gideon. He had an affair, and so his wife, Toya, hired me. A lot of people hire me to kill their spouses so they can collect insurance money. Those can be a bit tricky because I have to stage their death as an accident, or I have to force them to kill themselves if they see my face.”
She rubs the back of my neck. “That seems like a lot of work.”
My erection rubs against her ass, and I try to keep myself from groaning. “It is. Some jobs are easy, and other times it’s hard. It depends on what my clients want at the time.”
“Do you have recurring clients?”
I nod. “They’re mainly in the mafia.”
