Page 44 of Killer Confections

“Your brotheris PMSing,” Thalia wipes a tear.

“Your brotherhas been a pain in my ass,” I return. “Well, looks like our trip is over. About damn time.”

“Going home to the misses?” My sister wiggles her brows.

“I can’t stay gone too long. She’ll miss me,” I smirk. “Get out of here. Pack your stuff and go straight to your new hotel. Worry about Calaway tomorrow.”

She nods, giving us a wave. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you guys in like a month.”

“If I have to come back out here, I’m killing Calaway myself,” Dom grumbles as he shoves our equipment back into his bag.

Thalia’s bottom lip juts out as she gives the assassin a faux pout. “Awe! Are you upset you had to come all the way out here for little ‘ol me? How about I make it up to you?” She holds up her right fist that has about seven white teeth in it. “I can make you a really cool necklace—”

Dom points a warning finger at her, his expression deathly serious. “You send me the fucking tooth necklace and I’m having you committed.”

My sister smirks. “Piss me off again by coming back out here, and I’ll send you full body parts in gift boxes with bows.”

My friend shakes his head, “You’re both psychotic.”

Thalia returns to her room and we finish packing, leaving our keycards on the bedside table before heading for the parking garage. We crammed everything inside of the suitcases we brought, so it makes for an easy and discreet get away.

Dom starts the car and we load everything in before I pull up directions for a junkyard that’s in the next state over. It has an on-site incinerator and I get another connection to secure our usage of the machine that will destroy the existence of Jane.

It took us only two hours to complete our mission. Even though there’s no pay-out for us, Thalia usually splits her earnings between us three siblings. I do the same, splitting my keep between Loxley’s account, my own, Rowan, and Thalia.

Since Loxley has been back, I haven’t felt the drive to hunt for hits. I used to wait for the kill catalog to update every week, itching to get another rush. But here lately, Short Stack has been all I need to feel that high.

I could never take a hit again and be just fine in the funds department, but I know some jobs will still find me. Certain hits are hard to ignore when they might threaten the peace you’ve found.

And I worry our disposal of Jane may be one of those cases. Depending on how much sway she had in the South syndicate, we may have targets on our backs now.

Only time will tell, but I know for sure that if that does happen, my girl will be safe.

Because I’ll toss her right over my shoulder and lock her beautiful ass up in the cottage I built for us.

Where she belongs.

We drive for hours, handling the assassin in the trunk and getting closer and closer to Columbus. We’re about two hours out when I fish for my phone. Loxley has taken the weekends for herself and left the bakery to Janette and Riley for a few days. I know it wasn’t her decision because I heard the whole argument she had with Addison while the brunette tried to convince her she needed time away from her craft. My girl ultimately lost and agreed to taking Saturdays and Sundays off.

I pull up the feed, noting the empty kitchen and living room. I can hear the low sounds of the shower, so I know she’s home.

Time passes as I listen to her move around her room. The closing of dresser drawers reaches me and my brow furrows.

It sounds like she’s getting ready.

Hmm, where is my girl going?

The bedroom door is open, giving me little peeks as she passes in front of it, but I can’t make out anything until she steps into the hallway.

My cock hardens instantly, pressing against my zipper painfully, and I repress my groan. Loxley is dressed up in a moss-green wrap dress that hugs her curves perfectly. Her smaller chest is pushed up under the sweetheart neckline, giving me the perfect view of the rounded tops. I imagine dragging my tongue between the valley of them, her little breathy moans sounding in my ear. Then I imagine ripping that dress off of her, exposing her pink nipples and soaked pussy for my hungry mouth.

I spot her shoes—black four-inch stilettos.

Fuck me heels.

The shoes stay on. I picture her naked, her knees touching the floor beside her head as my hands grip the backs of them, black heels in the air as I pound into her.

Fuck, I need her.