The Hitman's Angel(3)

I’m not powerless now.

I’m this piece of shit’s worst nightmare.

“As luck would have it,” says the gnat, “there is a backroom. But this here dancer…” Trying to play coy, he scratches the back of his neck, but dollar signs are in his eyes. “When I say she’s never danced. I mean she’s never danced, if you catch my drift. It’d cost you a pretty penny if you want more than a show.”

“You already knew I could afford it, though. That’s why you approached me, da?”

He sputters for a moment, looking over my pressed, gray suit. “You don’t exactly look look like my typical customer.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey,” he says, frowning. “These are decent, hard-working—”

“Enough. Where is this girl? I will decide if she’s worth emptying my wallet over.” I study the cuff of my jacket. “Based on your talent working the main stage, I doubt it.”

Now he’s got something to prove, this child living in a man’s body. “You just wait. There’s a reason I’ve kept her locked upstairs.”

Bastard. I grind my molars as he leaves the room, my hand itching to reach for the gun, twist on my silencer and aim. To end his miserable existence. Wherever the first-time dancer is, she will be freed once he takes his final breath. There’s no need to wait. But just as I’m about to follow him into whatever dark backroom he’s disappeared into, the silver beads swing—and my heart spikes down into my stomach, then rams up into my throat.

Angel.

It does not make sense to my brain that she is standing in this place. She belongs in the clouds. Or sitting on a silk pillow sipping champagne. Dear God, I’ve never seen anyone or anything so beautiful in my thirty-three years. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head, little pieces tickling her graceful neck. Her mouth is plump, brown eyes round and spirited. Scared, but brave. I will slaughter him for making you scared, angel.

How long has she been scared? Locked up?

A roar builds in my throat and my arm muscles seize. Adrenaline turns the slow pulse in my neck into a fast, staccato beat. I’m primed to kill.

I’m primed for more than that, though. My cock is pounding with lust, growing and stretching out in my pants. Hungry. I’m so hungry and my craving is her skin. I want to remove the long, blue, see-through robe she’s wearing and lick every inch of her body. Never before have I wanted a woman with this urgency. My couplings in the past were functions I performed as part of my job. Infiltrating places like this. Getting closer to the target through any means necessary.

Never for pleasure.

Having this angel beneath me would be all for pleasure. I’m prepared to spill my come just looking at her, smelling the light floral scent. She’s pleasuring me simply by existing.

I communicate to her with my eyes that I will save her. I will show her the true definition of being spoiled. Yes. That is to be my new job.

I train my eyes on the gnat and reach for my gun.

My step falters when the angel’s eyes widen and she gives me a small headshake.

“I-I want to dance for you. Sir.” She swallows and my balls grow heavy. “Please?”

It’s the please that renders me motionless. I don’t think I can say no to this creature.

I think it might be…impossible?

In that moment, I realize the angel has a great weapon against me, indeed. From a young age, I’ve been forced to earn money to feed my destitute family by working for the Bratva. First lesson they taught me? Weaknesses will get you killed. Still, I can’t stop myself from nodding and rasping, “Da. Whatever you wish.”

The gnat laughs knowingly and I swallow my venom. “Thought you might change your tune once you saw the merchandise.”

He pushes the angel in my direction and I catch her up against me. A groan leaves my mouth because she’s so lush and feminine, but I’m torn between absorbing the salvation of her soft curves—and putting a bullet in the man who dared to lay his hands on her. Up close, I can see the bruising at her temple, on the sides of her throat, and my lips peel back from my teeth. I open my mouth to tell her I’ve come to slay her tormentor, but I stop myself.

What if she does not want a cold-blooded killer?

What if I repulse her?

It would not be a surprise. She already can’t look too fondly upon men. My code of honor—killing only those who warrant killing—might not sway her. After all, she is not from the brutal underground worlds where I cut my teeth. She is an innocent.

My dick hoists with that reminder and she gasps.

Nyet. I cannot scare her away. My debt to my employer will soon be paid and she’ll never have to know about my dark lifestyle.

“Please…” she says, going up on her tiptoes and whispering in my ear. It’s euphoria. “Please just let me dance for you or he’ll—”

“He’ll nothing,” I grind out. “He’ll do nothing to you ever again.”

She looks up into my eyes and casts a spell. “Why?”

“Because…” What was I saying? My brain is not functioning at its usual pace. I can’t seem to focus on anything but the little tits pressed up against my chest. “Never mind how I’ll keep him from bothering you, angel. Just trust me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”