Kissing the Hitman by Ella Goode

Kissing the Hitman by Ella Goode

Author:Ella Goode [Goode, Ella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-25T18:30:00+00:00


Chapter

Thirteen

FINN

I have ideas about what we could negotiate. Her clothes. Her kisses. Her cries. My cock twitches, which is inconvenient since we’re standing in the middle of the Tuileries with tourists and Parisians strolling through the gardens on either side of us. Even though Paris is the City of Love, public erections aren’t high on the list of things to do while on vacation. Pretty sure I can get arrested for public indecency.

“You done with the churros?”

She peers at me over a half-eaten one. “No.”

The dumbass is unstated but implied. “I’ll buy you a whole flotilla in a couple hours.” I toss her hot chocolate into a nearby trash can and grab her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to the hotel.” I consider lifting her over my shoulder so we can move faster.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah.” I should’ve taken her this morning. I should've reached between her legs, scissored that wet cunt open, and slid inside of her. I was ready. She was ready. Instead, I’d said some dumb things, hurt her feelings, and all that led to me having a public woodie. The only thing that will remedy both grievances—her feelings, my hard-on—is sex.

“What is it? Your wallet is in your pocket. You used it to pay for our food.”

“You want to learn to negotiate? Find out the one thing the other person wants the most and then use it against them.”

“What do you want the most?”

“At precisely this minute? You.”

I hurry her inside the hotel and through the lobby. If we don’t get to a private place soon, I might embarrass us both in various unforgettable ways. The elevator arrives swiftly. The minute the doors close, I’m on her, my mouth sealed across hers. My fingers pull at the waistband of her sweater until her skin is exposed. She gasps as I splay my cold hands across her back and pull her tighter.

The elevator door dings open, and I walk us backward, refusing to separate from her. We tumble into the room. My booted heel kicks the door shut. Inside, I break away to scoop her into my arms.

“Now’s the time to make demands.”

She gives me a sloe-eyed peek from under her lashes. “What if I want everything?”

I feel my stone face cracking. It could be my heart too. “Then everything is what you’ll get.” I set her down on the bed.

As an assassin, I pay attention to details. I notice when one book on the shelf has been moved because the spine doesn’t perfectly align with the others. I can tell if a man is cheating on his wife by how often he looks at his phone during dinner. I can tell the truth from a lie by how many times the speaker swallows.

And now I can see the flicker of excitement in her eyes, the rapid pulse of her heart at the base of her neck, and the swiftness of her breath to mean arousal and need, not fear.

I’m a careful man. I like to plan and plot.



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