Page 6

Cleaning only takes so long. There are only so many ways I can rearrange my drawer and re-fold blankets before I have to admit to myself that I’m stalling — and why? Killian is hot, he’s charming, and he’s right out there in the living room.

So why am I hiding? He has a gun, sure. One he agreed to put away. He said I can’t leave, yes, but I wasn’t going to. And even if he turns out to be the serial killer or the guy who killed the senator, who cares? He’d have either killed me by now or shoved me in the bunker downstairs if he was planning on hurting me, especially since I have no desire to call him out about it. If I don’t bring it up, he has no reason to be suspicious or angry with me. So why am I being so fucking weird?

Maybe because it is weird to just accept this situation. It’s borderline pathological, actually.

Normal people would be crying, hiding, begging for mercy... and here I am wondering what it would feel like to let him put me on my knees.

This is ridiculous.

Cursing myself under my breath, I walk out into the living room and sit down on the chair to the left of the couch he’s sprawled across. “Hi.”

“Hi.” The fire is fuller than it was, and I hate myself a little for thinking about how nice it is to have a man around to do those things. I’ll never admit it out loud though. “You get all settled back there?”

“Yeah.” A few times. “Where’s your stuff?”

He nods at the duffle bag on the floor. “There. Also have clothes downstairs, but I packed light.”

I can see A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens resting on a laptop next to his bag, piquing my curiosity. “Do you need anything else?”

Killian looks at me like he’s confused. “Are you... offering?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t really know how because I can’t leave and we can’t have anything shipped here, but... never mind. I promise that wasn’t a ploy to get to leave but I hear how it sounds that way.” My cheeks flush and I wish more than anything I could sink into the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about. I was just surprised you’d offer me anything at all after I trapped you here. At the moment, I have more than I expected to have. I thought I was going to live off canned food and beef jerky and instead I have a beautiful woman making me french toast in the mornings. Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. Do you need anything?”

For him to understand that the food I bought won’t last forever. We’ve got a week tops. I bought enough for longer than that, but only for me — and with the way he eats, a week might be generous. At some point, he’ll have to trust me enough to let me leave or he’ll have to go himself. “I’m okay.”

I was silent too long for that to be my only response because he sits up straighter and eyes me. “I know you came here wanting to be alone, and I’m sorry I fucked that up, but I still have nowhere else to go. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay with all this, though. I can take it if you want to tell me off.”

Part of me would like that very much, but where would it get us? Nowhere. “I don’t want to tell you off. I get it, okay? We’re all running from something and my parents would be the first to offer this place to you if you’d asked. I don’t care that you’re here. I just don’t know what we’re gonna do when we run out of toothpaste or toilet paper or meat.”

“Your dad seemed to prepare for the toothpaste and toilet paper shortage because you’re stocked downstairs. The meat and produce is another issue though, especially if you’re going to keep spoiling us with those meals. The nearest store is about twenty miles away, and based on my research, it’s a pretty sleepy little town. Hopefully by the time we need that stuff you’ll already be in love with me and won’t want to run.”

He smiles at me teasingly, but there’s an undertone of seriousness he can’t laugh away. Even if the world turned upside down and I did fall in love with him, how would he ever believe it? I wouldn’t. Not with what I’ve been through. “I already told you I don’t want to run.”

His eyes suddenly snap to the tv droning on across from him, and my gaze follows. There it is again — the grainy shot of the man who killed the senator.

Suddenly he isn’t smiling anymore. His body goes rigid as he watches them lay out the evidence they’ve found so far, and he doesn’t relax until they say they need help finding suspects.

The face mask they found at a bus station had no traces of who the perpetrator was.

The coke bottle they believed belonged to the shooter somehow had the victim’s fingerprints on it, and the note they found underneath the body gave no tips as to who may have pulled the trigger. They show it hoping someone out there may recognize the handwriting, but when they do, I see something flash across Killian’s face that practically confirms my suspicions. Satisfaction.

All the note says is “KARMA” in bold, neat letters, which isn’t something new to him. Didn’t he say I was his karma?

“You did it, didn’t you,” I say softly. “You’re the one they’re looking for.”

Those identical blue eyes we just saw on screen snap to mine, a thick silence settling between us as we both hold our breath and wait for the other to freak out.

But it doesn’t happen. And his silence speaks volumes.

“How would you feel if I was?”

“Honestly?” I ask, giving myself a second to breathe. This is it. If I say the wrong thing, his good nature might come to an end. At least I don’t have to lie. “I don’t know what he did to you, but in my experience, there’s no such thing as a good politician.”

Those full lips part a little like he’s surprised, but it’s the relief I see on his face that has my attention. Maybe relief isn’t the right word... hope? Is that hope I see?

“Yeah,” he says, his voice cracking on the word. “It seems we share the same experience.”

“So if you did kill him, I’d probably offer to bake you a cake. It’s nice when the people who think they own the world get reminded that they don’t.” It’s true, and I wish I had the balls to do something so bold. “Politicians and most rich people are so out of touch with normal citizens that they don’t even realize how bad they screw us over every day. Or maybe they do know and they just don’t care, which is worse.“ I might have money, but I work for it, and not even I’m in a high enough tax bracket to be treated well by the government. And just being a woman is enough to tell me they don’t care about me.

“They don’t care because we aren’t people to them, not really. If they humanized us they’d have to feel for us, and that will never happen. Not unless more people show them they bleed just the same as us.”

He hasn’t outright admitted it yet, and for some reason, I need him to. “So you killed him.”

Killian chews his lip silently for a second and then nods once, allowing me a few moments to accept what he admitted before he says anything out loud. “What kind of cake?”

Holy shit.

He really did it.

“Um... it might be boring, but I make a mean chocolate cake.”

“My favorite.” The way he looks when his body fully relaxes is criminal. The flirty smile he offers me sends a shiver down my spine — this man is a killer in more ways than one.

Funny given his name.

“Wait a minute, isn’t Killian kind of... on the nose?” I tease. “Did your parents name you that in hopes you’d be a killer on the run one day, or was it just a happy accident?”

“I don’t know. Keep talking and maybe we’ll find out.”

I lick my lips slowly as I contemplate how far I can push him. If he is going to hurt me... I want to get it over with. “You do know names aren’t supposed to be literal, right? You don’t see me hopping around like a baby kangaroo just because my name is Joey.”

“Unfortunately not, but I have something you can hop on if you’re feeling the natural urge to, Roo Roo.”

My jaw drops, but my eyes flick to his crotch. He got me. That’s fair. The way my pussy immediately responded says more about me than years of therapy ever could — and I don’t care.

No one in their right mind would turn him down.

“Stop giving me stupid nicknames and maybe I will.”

Killian chuckles deeply. “Just Roo then? Got it.”

That one’s actually kind of cute and it bothers me. I am who I am — I’m Joey. No one deviates, no one gets creative. Except him. “You’re awfully needy, you know that? First you want cake, then sex... what’s next?”

“It was my birthday yesterday after all, and I don’t know about you, but I think if we flipped that order, we’d be nice and sated. Imagine a slice of fresh chocolate cake after five orgasms?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry, what? How many?”

“Give or take.” His gaze travels up my legs until he meets my eyes again. “At least. Going to take a guess that it’s been a while for you?”

It has. Over a year, actually. So long that I don’t crave it the way I used to... until now. But this is dangerous. He’s dangerous. He’s a killer, he’s admitted it. And where would this end? We’re stuck here together. If we fuck once, we’ll do it again and again and again. Things will get messy, tangled. I’m too broken to ever love again, so where does that leave us? We can’t start down that road.

“A while,” I agree. “I’m not upset about it. When you stop getting it all the time, it stops meaning as much. My vibrators get the job done just fine.”

“I know the feeling,” he admits. “My hand does the job, but I know it could never compare to... fuck.”

Kill reaches down and adjusts himself before putting a pillow on his lap to block it, and I nearly ask him not to. I’m so wet he’d slide right inside of me.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I ask quietly. “I can go to my room for a while.”

“I have a much better idea... but I promised myself I wouldn’t hit on you and you’re making it very difficult not to want to fuck you right here.”

My breath catches as I force myself to stand up. The kitchen isn’t much of a hideaway, but I grab a bottle of water and give myself a second to just drink and try to cool off — but the moment I turn around, he’s there. Right in front of me. “Killian...”

“Tell me no.”

His hand reaches out to cradle my face and I suddenly forget what that means. Why would I say no? How could I say no?

“Yes.”

The word barely leaves my lips before he whispers, “fuck it,” and his mouth is crashing into mine, his body caging me against the counter as he devours me like he’s starved.

I’ve never been kissed like this. I can’t think, can’t reason, can’t do anything but allow myself to be swept up in it.

And god, it feels good.

Just once.

I can let myself have this just once.

Ryan never kissed me like this.

My fingers tangle in his messy hair as he lifts me up onto the counter, and my legs spread a little too easily.

A growl leaves his chest when he presses himself against my center, his rock-hard cock threatening to rip its way through our clothes, and when he grinds his hips into me I forget why I ever wanted to argue with him.

My clit throbs with need as I bite his lip and suck it between my teeth, only letting go when he grips my throat. “Do you have a condom?” I rush out, reaching down to palm him. “Please tell me you brought condoms.”

The word seems to pull him back to reality slightly, but when his hand tightens and his cock throbs, I get the feeling nothing could stop him now. “I don’t have anything. I didn’t expect... do you?”

He kisses me again before I can respond, slower this time, making me drunk on the way his lips feel. Little bastard. “No, I don’t,” I whisper, squeezing his balls lightly through his sweats. “Oh well.”

That makes him smile a little too widely as he lifts me up to pull my shorts down. “I don’t have anything in the other regard either. I’ve been tested, and I usually always wear a rubber. Fuck, you’re soaked.”

He lifts my shorts up to inhale my scent from them, making me stumble on my words as I reply, “M-Me either, I don’t... fuck.”

“Don’t move,” he says darkly, slowly lowering his face down without breaking eye contact until his cheeks are level with my thighs.

This is one command I’m happy to obey. “Is your tongue as talented as it is sharp?”

As a response, he slides it up my clit painfully slowly before grinning up at me. “I’ll show you.”

He does it again, this time moaning when my juices coat his tongue and then he goes absolutely feral. Both hands grip my thighs hard enough to bruise as he dives in, and I don’t think he’s trying to impress me at all. I think he’s just starving.

But holy hell, someone fucking cooked here. Most men are terrible at this without being taught — no finesse, too much teeth, acting like they’re scared of it.

Not Killian.

He has my thighs shaking within seconds, his name spilling from my lips in seconds more. Every swipe of his tongue over my clit makes me lean back a little more until I’m flat on the counter, completely exposed to him. He tosses my legs over his shoulders and swirls his tongue, one hand reaching up to squeeze my breast and tug on my nipple while the other just teases my pussy.

With every heartbeat, I’m waiting for him to slip his fingers inside me, to ruin me, but he doesn’t. He teases and teases, huffing a breathy laugh against my pussy when I start to squirm.

“Killian.”

“Mmm. Fuck, my name sounds so good when you’re desperate. You want to be full, don’t you?”

Two fingers tease at my entrance as he sucks my clit into his mouth, pulling an orgasm from me I couldn’t stop if I tried.

And he doesn’t stop there. It isn’t until my entire body is trembling and I’m pulling his hair to squirm away that he finally sits up, and the look in his eyes tells me he’s about to ruin me even further.

“Taste so good I didn’t want to stop,” he breathes, shoving his sweats and boxers down in one go before tugging me hard to the end of the counter.

He’s so hard his cock bounces as he takes in the sight of me, and as tempted as I am to push him back and show him I can be just as good at this as he is... I kind of want to see what he’ll do first.

Reaching down, I spread my lips and let him see. “I’m so wet, Killian. You want to fuck me?”

“Hell yeah I do,” he replies, eyes locked on my pussy as he fists his cock. “You want it too. Say it.”

I do. The bastard was right, I want to feel full and he wouldn’t even give me his fingers. I need it all. “I want it,” I whisper, hooking my ankles behind him to pull him in. “I want you.”

The cocky smile on his face makes me want to slap him, but something tells me he’d like that. “I’m right here, Roo. You can have me.”

The head of his cock nudges at my pussy once, twice, then slides inside in one solid thrust, stretching me open.

It’s exactly what I needed. I’ve been tense, scared, sad, and lonely for far too long, and everyone knows the only cure to that is getting railed by a smoking hot fugitive. I flatten my palm against his chest as I brace myself, but nothing quite prepares me for that first thrust.

He’s just as desperate as I am.

“Joey,” he groans, hands gripping my waist to keep me in place as he finds a deep, steady pace. “How are you so tight?”

He sounds equal parts amazed and desperate for more, drawing me deeper into his spell. “Maybe I’m not. Maybe you just fit me that well.”

“If I’m too rough you’ll have to tell me, alright? Been too fucking long and you feel too good.”

When he grips my throat tightly, fear spikes through me. He is a killer, one I’ve known for about a day. Rough could mean gutting me. Rough could mean fucking a hole through me and then fucking that too. Rough could mean any number of things, and yet, I feel the fear dissipate.

“I can take it,” I promise, pushing up into his hand to prove it. “I can handle you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he says with a chuckle, then he loses himself to pleasure one thrust at a time.

I get to watch his jaw drop after he cusses and curls his fingers a little tighter, those lust-blown blue eyes rolling the second I clamp down on him and make him throb. My turn. Sitting up, I grip his throat and pull his face to mine, kissing him as I push him backward until he’s slipping out of me.

Dropping to my knees, I lift his cock and suck his balls into my mouth, grinning to myself when his leg jerks in response. “Fucking hell,” he growls.

His thick cock pulses in my hand, telling me it’s my turn to tease. I stroke him slowly, barely gripping it, flicking my tongue over his shaft before kissing his balls. Wet, messy kisses that leave him groaning and leaning forward to chase me. Good.

Sitting back, I gaze up at him as I swirl my tongue around the head of his perfect cock. “I’ve always been told I look better with a cock in my mouth. Is it true?”

I suck him in fully, pulling a groan from deep in his chest as he fists my hair. “You’re always beautiful, but the way you look with my cock in your mouth is breathtaking.”

His words are laced with so much possession it catches me off guard and makes me choke.

I need him back inside of me.

Giving him just enough that he’ll know what I’m capable of, I reach up and tug him down to me, smiling when he joins me on the floor without an ounce of hesitation and pulls me up into his lap.

When our lips meet again, he grabs onto my hips and lines himself up, but I don’t wait this time. I sink down, chasing the feeling until he’s splitting me in half, and grind down.

“Told you I had something for you to hop on,” he says playfully. “Hop on that dick. You already have me leaking.”

My nose wrinkles. He is a man after all, and says stupid things like men tend to do. Instead, I lean forward and cover his mouth, rising up and sliding down slowly enough to drive us both mad. “I like your tongue better when it’s occupied.”

Before he can take over, I give him what he wants. I ride him like there’s a gun to my head, like I’ll never get off again if I don’t.

The amusement fades from his eyes as he grabs onto my ass and enjoys the ride, his muffled moans behind my hand spurring me on to move faster. I come once, twice, three fucking times before my lungs and thighs are burning too much to keep up the pace. The moment I falter, Killian takes over, fucking up into me so good it makes me cry out. “You’re going to make me come.”

“No don’t,” I rush out, tipping my head back. “Not yet. Don’t stop.”

It makes him groan, and his cock pulses desperately inside of me as he tries to hold back. “Fuuck.”

“Killian, don’t you dare.” I kiss him hard, so close to another orgasm it’s maddening. “Don’t stop.”

When his body stiffens I know he’s lost the battle. An angry growl leaves him as he pins me down on his lap and fills me up with so much cum I can feel it oozing out of me more with each roll of his hips. “Joey,” he breathes. “I couldn’t stop it.”

Teeth find my throat, punishing me in the best way. The only way that distracts me from the orgasm I lost.

But he keeps throbbing, keeps filling me up. It doesn’t stop. Shock lines my features and nearly paralyzes me until he finally stills. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “It really has been a while for you, huh?”

He’s clinging to me with his face buried in my breasts when he nods, and it isn’t until he catches his breath that he meets my gaze again. “It has. But that’s pretty standard for me regardless. Probably should have warned you.”

Slowly, he lays me on the floor and pulls out of me, showing me the mess he made all over the both of us, and the amount of cum that’s painting us even though he buried most of it inside me. It makes me a little lightheaded... and also incredibly turned on. “Seriously?”

Long, thick fingers push more cum back inside of me, curling just right to show me he’s far from done with me and has no intentions on missing out on my last orgasm. “It’s called hyperspermia. Have you heard of it? I promise it’s real even though the name is ridiculous.”

Oh I’ve heard of it, I’ve just never met anyone who had it. I also can’t focus on anything but the way his fingers feel right now. “I— um...”

“Shhh... let me take care of you and we’ll talk after. I felt how close you were, so give it to me.”

When his thumb rolls over my clit, my eyes close. Nothing matters but how it feels. Bloated with his cum, every swipe sends me a little higher until I’m shuddering and shaking on the kitchen floor, clenching my thighs around his hand to make him stop.

Finally fucking sated.

“I could watch you come all day.”

Kill braces his hands on the sides of my head and leans in to kiss me, surrounding me. For a moment, I let myself believe it’s real. That it’s the start of something altering, something perfect. But it’s not. This is complicated and messy, and this was supposed to be — has to be — a one and done, just a way to get it out of our systems.

This kiss will be the last.