The Hitman's Angel(10)

“Oh,” I wheeze, my feminine flesh constricting painfully. “Oh.”

An affirmative rumble leaves his chest. “Let’s get back to the horses.”

Sensory overload. “The…what?”

“Horses, Margaret.” Appearing half amused, half predatory, Lenin traces my lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “I will bring you to ride horses. Would this make you happy?”

My spine straightens. “You’d do that?”

Lenin is visibly affronted that I would doubt him. “Of course. We will give them silly names, too. Like…Joe.”

I giggle. “Joe?”

“It is a silly name for a horse, is it not?”

“Why the long face, Joe?” I give a firm nod. “I like it.”

He is very pleased with himself.

“Are you going to steal me something?”

“I will merely ask for whatever it is you wish, Margaret. Firmly.”

Not for the first time, I sense darkness inside of Lenin, but I’m too warm, safe and full of carbs to question it tonight. Maybe tomorrow. And then our food arrives and I sip my wine while enjoying the best meal I’ve ever eaten.

Life is good.

But only for now? Or forever?





CHAPTER FOUR





Lenin


Perhaps I should not have been so blunt with my Margaret about wanting to fuck her tonight.

We are inside the hotel room and she looks like she’s being marched toward the gallows. I must admit, I find the change in her mood confusing since she did her utmost to make me come in my pants back at the restaurant. She is a complicated little beauty and I’m almost sick with lust, anxious beyond belief to bed her, but I don’t like the way she’s wringing her hands and trying to melt into the wall. Something must be done to fix this.

When she isn’t smiling, I get itchy.

She should always be smiling.

Deep in thought over how to ease her nerves, I make a quick observation of the room. It is nice. In my profession, I would normally sweep the room for listening devices or cameras, to be on the safe side. Next I would go to the window and memorize the layout of the immediate area. Then I would review the information on my target, clean my gun and prepare for the hit. The room would be inconsequential to me. Merely a place to rest so I can be sharp when it counts.

Now, however, I observe it with an eye toward worthiness of Margaret. I booked the biggest room available, but I suspect anything less than a palace would leave me unsatisfied when it comes to where she sleeps. Still, it is safe and tasteful with its glowing crystal lamps, mirrored furniture, thick white carpeting and separate bedroom. Art depicting Paris and Spain hang on the walls. The living area is laid out in front of a big picture window, the Inner Harbor sparkling below.

For tonight, it will do.

I take off my jacket and shoulder holster, hanging them carefully on the back of a chair. We watch each other while I undo the buttons at my wrists and roll up my sleeves. There are matters I have to attend to soon, such as the forty missed calls from my employer on my phone. Tonight marks the first time since my youth that I have not completed a mission. Ironically, this job was meant to be my last. When I was sixteen, I struck a deal with the Bratva to get my family out of debt and from that moment forward, they owned me. Now they loan me out to smaller crime syndicates all over the globe. From every one of my substantial paychecks, the Bratva takes a cut. Tonight I was going to get out forever, with one final hit.

My employer will not be happy that I let the gnat live.

Right now, Margaret is more important than all of that. Even my own life being at risk.

“Time for your bath, da?”

Her swallow is audible. “Oh, are we still doing that?”

“I follow through on my promises, angel.”

She hums, looking around the room. “This is beautiful, Lenin.”

My groan can’t be trapped. When she says my name in that breathless voice, she might as well be sucking my cock. I clear my throat. “It is sufficient.”

When I pass Margaret to enter the bathroom, she draws in a quick breath, releasing it in what seems like relief when I don’t touch her. Her actions create a weird feeling in my belly. Hurt, perhaps? I’m not sure what hurt feels like, so I can’t be sure. To distract myself, I turn on the bathroom light and fill the bathtub with water, adding enough lavender-scented body wash to make bubbles foam in abundance on the surface. When I’m finished, I turn to find Margaret standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching me.

“Thank you.”

I nod and start to leave the bathroom so she can have some privacy, but I stop in my tracks when she lays a hand on my arm. “Lenin?”

My shaft grows stiff, elongating in my pants. “Yes?”

My chews her lip, apparently unaware of the physical predicament she puts me in just by speaking, breathing, existing. “It’s just that…a-and it’s not like I’ve given a ton of thought to when or how I would lose my virginity, but I thought there would be like, I don’t know, three or four dates first. A-and a bunch of kissing leading up to the main throw down. You know?”

“I have no plans to throw you down.”

“I didn’t mean that literally.”

“However, in the future, there will be times when I do throw you down, Margaret.”