Page 18 of Stalk (Assassin’s Kiss Duet #1)

One thing’s for sure—I will not let thoughts of Ren ruin my date—and I certainly will not think about what happened when I woke up this morning.

The Italian place is smaller than I thought. I’m glad I called ahead and got a reservation. Twinkle lights are wrapped around two small trees on either side of the front door, and the sign reads, Salata.

Once I stop outside the door, I spot Rachel walking down the sidewalk.

I wave and smile when I catch her eye, and she does the same.

She looks absolutely stunning. When I met her the other day, I had been focused on her curves, but tonight, I want to take her all in.

Not just her looks, but everything else, too.

She wears a simple black dress with heels and natural makeup.

Her black hair is curled, and as she comes to a stop beside me, the scent of jasmine and something fruity fills the air around us.

“Hi,” Rachel says simply. “Did you find the place okay?”

I nod. “Oh, yes. Thank you.” I smile down at her and hold out my arm for her to take. “Shall we?”

Rachel takes my arm. “Yes! I hope you like it.”

As far as first dates go, tonight has been a success.

The conversation was natural, and the food was quite decent after all.

It’s not as good as what I’d find back home, but it was a close second.

Rachel is very funny, too. She told me about the trouble she got in while abroad when she was in college, how she and her younger brother prank each other every time she visits home, and all about the crazy things her new kitten does.

I told her very little about me, and had to make up a lot of what I did say. Protecting the Giordanos is always the top of my priorities, and though I wish I could go on a date and be completely honest with the person sitting across from me, there’s really no way for me to do so.

Despite being stuffed from our entrees, we split a tiramisu, and then I pay the bill. I don’t miss the way her caramel eyes roam over my body when she thinks I’m focused on leaving a tip, or the way she wets her lips before I glance back at her.

“Ready to go?”

She beams at me. “Sure. Thank you again for dinner.”

“Of course.”

I stand and round the table to pull out her chair before she can get up. “Such a gentleman,” Rachel says playfully.

“Do Americans not mind their manners?” I tease back as we walk back outside.

She shakes her head, making her curls bounce. “Some of them do, I guess, but finding a true gentleman isn’t as easy as it may seem.”

We stand outside the restaurant, under the twinkle lights. Rachel faces me and moves in closer so that there isn’t a lot of space between us.

“Would a gentleman ask you to accompany him back to his hotel after a first date?” I ask before losing my nerve. My voice comes out smooth and silky, even though my accent sounds thicker than usual. I’m honestly kind of impressed with how much game I still have after being out of practice.

Rachel bites down on her lower lip. “Maybe not… but I’m willing to find out.”

The hotel isn’t too far away. I only had Marco drive me over so he could drive around nearby. “Shall we walk back?” I ask.

She nods and takes my arm. As we walk back toward the hotel, I spot Marco’s SUV at a stoplight up the street. He has my location and knows I’m walking, so he should be headed back soon as well.

Fifteen minutes later, we stop outside my room. Rachel leans on my shoulder as I bring out my keycard and tap it to the lock.

We barely make it through the threshold before our lips collide.

I hear the door close behind us right after I grab her hips and walk her backwards until we’re pressed together against the wall.

Her lips taste like candy, and she’s wicked with her tongue.

She teases the seam of my lips open and then licks at my tongue.

I angle my head to the side for better access.

By the time we move from the wall to the foot of the bed, though, I know something is wrong. Not only am I not hard yet, but kissing Rachel feels underwhelming. She’s gorgeous, a great kisser, and sweet as can be. Yet, my dick doesn’t budge.

I squeeze my eyes closed as we continue to make out. A small whimper comes from her throat as I lay her down on the bed. She kicks her shoes off and smiles at me with lust in her eyes as I take my shirt off.

This will happen, damn it. Maybe I just need to get more in the mood. And relax.

Once my shirt and shoes are off, Rachel sits up and pulls her dress from her body, then tosses it off to the side. Finally, I grow to half-mast in my slacks. Rachel’s body is stunning.

She’s curvaceous and not too skinny, which is the way I prefer. Her breasts practically pop out from her lacy black bra, leaving very little to the imagination.

“You coming back, or are you just gonna stand there and stare all night?” she asks with a sultry smirk.

I grin and crawl back on the bed. She lays back down so I can hover over her. I trail kisses from above her panty line, up to her stomach, across the swells of her breasts, and all the way up her neck and jaw until I reach her lips.

We spend time making out before I undo her bra. I was raised to cherish and respect women’s bodies like temples. I never want them to think I’m with them just to get off myself. Both partners should feel comfortable. Both partners should always find pleasure—not just the man.

Once her bra is discarded, I spend time sucking and playing with her.

Her hips grind into me, seeking friction, so I rip off her flimsy thong, too.

My dick might not always do what I tell it to, but I always, always , give good head.

I slip down between her thighs and kiss her pussy lightly.

Rachel moans in response, and I smile to myself before using my tongue and fingers.

In a couple of minutes, she’s orgasming on my tongue.

My cock is ready to go now, standing at full attention. I exhale a breath of relief as I sit up and retrieve a condom from the wallet inside my pocket, then strip.

“You want to?” I ask, looking back over my shoulder.

Rachel nods. “Can I taste you, too? Before that?”

Oh shit. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

Rachel gets off the bed and walks over, then kneels in between my legs. I relax and throw my head back as she wraps her wet mouth around my cockhead and slowly takes more of me inside.

Kissing her didn’t make me feel much. Eating her out was fun. This… feels good, but I can already feel myself losing my hard on. I try to focus. Relax. Breathe.

And I’m totally soft.

Rachel leans back on her heels, popping me out of her mouth. “Is it okay? Did I do something wrong?” Her lips turn down ever so slightly, and humiliation seeps into my core, warming my blood.

“Fuck. No, no. Not at all, Rachel,” I say, honestly not wanting her to believe this has anything to do with her.

I can easily lie to the people I murder in cold blood.

Lying to this lovely woman, on the other hand, makes me want to slam my head against a brick wall.

“I’m sorry, bellissima . I think I’m just still exhausted from the jet lag. ”

“Oh,” she says. I can tell from the tone in her voice that she’s not quite convinced.

I lean forward and tip her chin up with my finger. “I promise it’s not you. You’re wonderful. Maybe we can try again another night while I’m in town?”

Her posture relaxes ever so slightly. “I’d like that.”

Once she’s gone, I rest my forehead on the closed door, defeat and shame making me quiver. I hate this feeling. It takes me over until all I can do to release it is punch the door and scream. “What the fuck is wrong with me? Fuck!”