An Assassin’s Holiday (5 page)

“I’m gonna….”

I stop. “Just from that? Do you always react so forcefully?”

“No.” Robin gasps. “I think it’s you.”

Somehow I doubt it, but I suck his nipple once again, and Robin comes apart in my arms. Hell, it’s the most amazing thing I can ever remember. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or not; his reaction has my head rushing the same way it did the first time I jumped out of an airplane. This time the earth doesn’t get closer and the weightless soaring and rush of air don’t stop.

“Brick.”

I pull my lips away, lift him off his feet, and damn if those long legs don’t just slide around my hips, gripping me tight. I cradle his ass with one arm, carry him through the apartment to my bedroom, and set him on the bed. “Two seconds and those damn pants are history,” I growl.

He bounces on the bed, and as I reach for the fabric to tear it away, the pants come down and fall in a heap on the floor. Not that I really notice, because, well, fucking hell. Robin isn’t a big guy, but parts of him sure as hell are. He’s amazingly perfect. I part his legs, letting them wrap around me once again, his cock pressing and sliding along my belly, leaving a wet trail of his visible excitement in its wake.

“It’s your turn,” Robin groans, clutching at my back and reaching to my hips. I can tell he wants at my pants, and fair is fair. I step back and shuck them down, my cock slapping back as soon as it’s freed. “Yum,” Robin whispers and shimmies over on the bed, his lips ending up right near the head. He opens his mouth, and holy hell if my cock doesn’t look amazing as it slides between his demanding lips. Robin mumbles something, but I don’t understand a word. However, the meaning is clear—along with the enthusiasm with which he pulls me into his wet heat.

Robin’s energy has me on the edge within a few minutes. I wonder how in the hell he can do that and what he’s doing in his mouth with that amazing tongue of his.

“Sweetheart,” I groan, wondering where the endearment comes from. I’ve never been called such a thing in my life, and I certainly don’t use words like that. Usually the words involved with sex are commands: harder, fucking harder, suck it deeper, and so on. But endearments? Tenderness? Those are foreign, and yet they are what I want with Robin.

He pulls away and rolls over, honey-warm body stretching out on my bed.

I stop and take him in. I want to taste and feel. I can’t help leaning forward, letting his golden warmth travel under my hands as I slide them down his hips and belly, then up over his hips and side, tracing that scar, wondering once again where it came from. When I’ve looked my fill and can wait no more, I bend over him, licking down his belly to his cock, then sucking it between my lips. The hint of him that I got during our kiss hits me full force: musky, heat, a hint of salt with underlying sweetness. I take him as deep as I dare, listening as he moans softly. I move when his hand strokes up my thighs and settles on my ass. I’ve never let anyone touch me there, and I’m about to tell him to stop when he shifts and swallows me completely. My protests die instantly when his heat returns. He guides me into his mouth, and I quickly copy his rhythm. Soon we’re moving in concert, his cock sliding over my tongue and me plunging into his velvety throat that doesn’t seem to have a bottom.

I slow down on purpose, afraid I’m hurting him. Robin’s grip on my ass tightens, and he presses me deeper. He definitely has ways of letting me know what he wants, and who the hell am I to argue with him? Every move is masterful, each twist and turn of his magic tongue bringing me closer and closer to a release I’m not sure I’m ready for. Being with Robin is sublime, the way he fills the room with his soft moans, and I adore the way his legs quiver when I trail my fingers up his inner thighs or cup his perfect handful.

Backing away is the only answer because this, whatever is happening between us, is too good, and too rare in my life not to savor. The good things never stay around for very long, so the ones that come my way have to last.

I shift positions, slowly lowering my lips to his, kissing him, tasting, savoring. I have no illusions. Once all this is over, his life will go back to normal. Mine will never be the same. I’m tasting for a short time what joy feels like, and after that taste, going back to my life, cold and devoid of warmth and care, will be like eating white bread with peanut butter after a diet of fine caviar on toast points.

“Brick…,” Robin whines softly, just loudly enough for me to hear. “Where are you?”

“I’m fine.”

He smooths a gentle hand over my forehead. “You slipped away for a second. Your eyes were blank and far away. Did I do something?”

I shake my head in a silent lie. He did do something. Robin unwittingly opened my eyes to how bleak and unsatisfying my life is, and the fucking thing is, I don’t know what to do or how to start making a change. This is the only life I’ve known, and it will seem empty as soon as Robin walks out the door. “No.” What the hell am I supposed to say? “You just took my breath away for a few seconds.”

“Oh,” Robin smiles. “I think I like knowing I can do that.”

“Then you’ll love the fact that doing anything other than watching you or feeling the ripple of your muscles under my hand has become nearly impossible. I’m always aware of what’s around me, but with you, there’s nothing and no one else.”

Robin pulls me down, taking my lips in a bruising kiss that leaves me with the slight copper taste of blood in my mouth. “Sometimes you make me forget too.”

“How is this possible?”

“I wish to hell I knew. Sometimes we can’t understand the reason. In life, if we’re lucky and the powers that be smile on us, we are given a gift that transcends anything we think we deserve.”

“I’m not a gift, and I’m certainly no prize.” I have no illusions regarding who I am.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the value of a gift lies with the receiver, not the giver.” Robin cuts off the argument forming in my mind by kissing me again. He shifts out from under me on the bed and throws his weight against me.

I go sprawling and end up on my back on the bed, staring up at him. “What’s that for?”

“You’re thinking way too much,” Robin scolds and crawls on top of me, straddling my hips and grinding his ass along my cock. “There are times to question everything, but there are times, like right now, when the gifts presented are only to be accepted, taken, and appreciated. Nothing more is necessary.” Robin leans forward, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “Accept the good things.”

I close my eyes and do my best to comply with his directive. I tug Robin forward, encircling him with my arms.

“Do you have stuff?” Robin asks, and I nod toward the nightstand. He yanks open the drawer and manages to get what he needs before the drawer and everything in it tumbles to the floor with a clatter. He pays no attention, and I’m not going to interrupt as he rolls a condom down my length. I hiss at the magnificent sensation and do my best not to come right there. When Robin strokes me, I groan. Seconds later I grow wide-eyed as I watch his slicked fingers disappear behind him, and I wish I could watch. I know they are slowly entering him, and dammit all to hell, I want that to be me.

Before I can voice my protest, Robin positions himself, and his body opens to me as he sinks down. Jesus Christ and all that’s holy—I heard one of the nuns say that when I was a child, but I never knew the true meaning of that phrase until this very minute. And the nuns hadn’t either, because in a matter of seconds I know what heaven is like. It’s me sinking slowly inside of Robin, his body gripping me as we come together. I lean forward, holding him, positioning his hips so I sink deeper. God, this is what I’ve needed, and I try not to let the thoughts of how fleeting this burst of joy will be ruin it. I clamp duct tape over the mouth of the proverbial devil on my shoulder and go with the angel, taking what I want and all that Robin is willing to give.

He is magnificent, writhing on me, gripping my shoulders as he lifts himself before plunging down with enough force to push the air from my lungs, over and over again.

“My God.”

“I know,” Robin groans, rolling his hips slightly and gripping me like a vise.

“Where did you learn how to do this?” I say between my clenched teeth. My control is stretching thin, but this is too amazing not to try to make it last. I need the pleasure to visit just a little bit longer so I can have the memories to pull out and hold on to on the winter nights when my life goes back to the way it’s been.

I press Robin back as I thrust upward, letting my hips roll as best I can in time with his. Damn, that’s sublime, and I repeat the motion to a moan that grows louder and more forceful with each movement.

“Brick, I can’t….” Robin shivers and sinks back down on me hard, holding still as he strokes himself. I lie back, mesmerized by his hand and cock, waiting for him to show me just how I make him feel. That display takes mere seconds and then he’s coming, painting ropes on my chest and belly, yelling my name as he shakes above me.

Robin’s release triggers an explosion of pent-up desire and need that I never realized existed. I can’t get enough of him, and even as we settle into quiet on the bed, I hold him close, my thighs and chest, even where he’s touching my arm, coming alive as though they’ve been asleep for a long time.

I don’t want to leave him, but Robin deserves to be comfortable, so I get a cloth and wipe us clean. Then I toss it into the bathroom and climb back into bed. This is the point where most of my bed partners leave to go home. I know Robin isn’t going to leave, but I figure he might go back to his room, and if he does, I’ll deal with it.

To my delight, Robin snuggles close, and he’s like a nuclear furnace of heat. Within seconds he’s throwing out warmth in every direction, and I realize I love it. I pull him closer, slinking my arms around his belly, luxuriating in the feel of him for as long as it lasts.

B
ETWEEN
R
OBIN
’
S
intrinsic heat, not being used to sleeping next to someone, and the plan for dealing with Robin’s boss that keeps running through my head, I don’t sleep much, which is unusual. I was taught to sleep on command, but last night was too good to allow the hours to pass without marking them.

By the time the winter sun permeates the room, I’m up and dressed, drinking coffee in the kitchen while Robin showers. I purposely stay away. What happened in the middle of the night was one thing, but if there had been a repeat in the shower, I don’t think I’d be able to let him go, and I know I have to. Someone as kind and gentle as him has no place in the kind of life I lead.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask when he enters the kitchen, looking every bit the accountant in his blue suit with a white shirt and an understated gray tie.

“How is this going to work?”

“All you need to do is introduce me as a potential client who needs more than you can help him with. Once we’re alone, I’ll take care of everything.” My intention is to scare the living hell out of the man, and that’s best done alone, where there are no witnesses to what I say or allies on his part.

“But I want to watch the bastard squirm,” Robin says with an evil look that almost makes me smile.

“I’m sure you do, and I don’t blame you. But are you prepared to see me threaten him, or even get physical with him?” I look up from my cup of coffee. “Do the windows in the building open?”

Robin’s mouth drops open. He nods but says nothing, and I give him credit that he doesn’t ask exactly what I’m planning. He simply looks away. In that instant I see the recognition in his now ice-blue eyes as to exactly the type of person I am. Not that I want there to be any doubt. Last night was a night for me to treasure, and I hope Robin will see it that way too. But whatever notions are lingering in the cold light of day have to be burned away like morning fog.

I pass him a cup of coffee, and he takes it, thoughts very visibly elsewhere. “When you’re done, we’ll go.”

Robin nods, his attention neither on me nor the mug. I can almost feel him withdrawing into himself, and that’s a good thing. I can protect him physically, and I fully intend to see to the situation his boss has put him in. But emotionally? That’s beyond me. My life and job come with a cost, and up till now, I was willing to pay it for the security. But seeing Robin looking at me as though I’m exactly what I know I am—a bringer of death—hurts more than the day my friendship with Greggy ended forever.

I finish my coffee and he does the same, his expression aloof and distant. When we’re done, I follow him out, set the alarms, and lock the apartment tighter than Fort Knox. We ride down in the elevator in silence and get straight into a waiting cab for the relatively short drive through the city streets, passing sidewalks clogged with holiday shoppers and office workers alike. When we pull up in front of his building, I let Robin out and then follow him inside. I know the security systems of places like this, and after checking where the cameras are placed, I figure out the potential blind spots and angles to hide myself in so nothing meaningful is captured.

“My office is on the twelfth floor,” Robin tells me as we reach the elevators and get inside. I can feel his nerves ramping up, and I rest my hand on his shoulder.

“Everything is going to be fine. I’ll see to it that your boss makes things right, one way or another.”

“I don’t want you to….” Robin pauses. “You know.” He turns away, unable to say the words. That tells me all I need to know, because if he can’t even bring himself to say what I may have to do, there’s no way he could actually bear to see it, or listen to a threat to someone’s life.

I smile. “I promise not to ‘you know’ unless it comes to that. However, if it does, don’t think for a second that I’ll hesitate. I can’t afford it, and neither can you. Remember, it seems your boss tried to set you up for his misdeeds. I intend to find out the truth and then make him pay—one way or another.” I don’t want to talk about this any longer, especially as we get closer to his floor. Robin’s nerves aren’t going away, and I don’t want him acting too suspiciously. I grow quiet and stand near him, just touching his back to try to steady him—and because I need some connection between us.