Hitman's Hookup: A Bad Boy Romance (8 page)

I smiled in the dark as I recognized the sound of a condom being unwrapped. "I love a woman who comes prepared," I said.

"Former Girl Scout here," she responded. She was unwrapping the condom and I moved my chest away from her body so she could reach my cock. I didn't stop slipping my fingers up and down her wetness. She was moaning loudly.

I'd lost all thought of who might return. All I wanted was to fuck her as hard as I could possibly fuck her while she screamed into this dark room.

CHAPTER NINE

LILY

A man had never used his fingers like that on me before. I felt like I was going to come before he even slipped inside of me.

Just as I slid the condom over his enormous, hard shaft, he moved a finger inside of me. I was so wet I barely felt it. "Harder," I insisted. "Faster." His thumb worked around my sensitive nub while he slipped another finger in me.

Just as I was about to come, he slipped his fingers away from me. My legs were wrapped around him. I slid down the wall and grabbed his hardness to slip inside of me. I gasped as he entered me. He took my hands and pinned them above my head on the wall with one hand while he held my ass with the other. I bucked my hips forward, backward, and sideways as I rode him.

I wished I could see his face, but fucking with masks on in a dark dungeon room was incredible in its own way. There were strangers outside these walls. I heard a feminine voice screaming in pleasure and it added to the thrill of my own impending climax.

Phillip's lips found my clavicle and he traced his wet tongue across the top of my breasts. He took his teeth and teased down the top of my dress until my tit was hanging out. He took it fully in his mouth, sucking on my nipple as hard as he could.

It was like a line of electricity was connecting my nipple to my pussy. Three thrusts later and I was screaming, my back arching, my breast pushed into Phillip's mouth.

I felt him jerk inside of me as he came along with me.

He slid out of me and I hit the light switch. I saw that there was a black-leather chair in the room with chains, along with a sink, paper towels, and trash can in the corner. Phillip cleaned himself up and I sat in the chair, still panting hard.

Phillip saw me sitting there. He was all zipped up, but he looked like he wanted to eat me alive. He threw my legs over my head and dove headfirst between my legs, licking and flicking his tongue as rapidly as possible. He moved two fingers back inside of me and soon I was screaming again. I usually wasn't able to come this fast, but the rush of fear I'd felt at him slamming me against the wall to hide me from whoever was in the hallway was putting my libido into overdrive.

I had a wild thought that I wanted him to fill me up, completely without a condom. I wanted this man inside of me, making a life within my own body. A second later, I was coming harder than I had two minutes before. I wrapped my legs around his face and pulled on the chains with my hands.

I cleaned up and tottered out of the room with Phillip. He took my hand and led me back out through the club. The main room had devolved into a mass orgy. Everyone was fucking everyone else.

I didn't care. I just wanted him.

We made it back to the parking garage and tucked ourselves safely inside the SUV. "Your man. We didn't find him," I said softly. "Looks like the Sprinter is still here though."

Phillip took my face in his hands and nodded. "Don’t worry about it. I'll get the photos next time."

I gasped as he leaned forward and filled my mouth with his tongue again. Within thirty seconds, I'd climbed over the stick shift of the car and straddled his lap. He lifted my dress up and kneaded my ass with his hands. We were both breathing so heavily I was certain that we were going to fog up the windows,
Titanic
style.

Phillip's hardness was poking through his pants again. "Do you have another condom?" He hissed to me.

"You sure are unprepared for a private investigator," I retorted, groaning inwardly. I'd only had room in my dress for one. My mind flashed back to me wanting him inside of me bare. I pushed down the thought. I’d never had that thought about a guy before; now I was wanting kids with a total stranger? This was absurd. It was ridiculous.

He licked my earlobe and sent shivers down my spine. "We can do other things, then," he said. "Get in the back seat."

I climbed over, flashing my ass in his direction.

"Sit," he instructed. I did as he said. He took off his tuxedo necktie and tied it around my wrists so they were bound over my head. He pushed my legs apart again, but this time went slowly up my thighs, depositing kisses with his warm lips. I wondered for the millionth time what he looked like without clothes on.

I had a feeling I would be able to find out soon enough. I leaned back and shuddered as his tongue found my bud again. He touched it so lightly it was like he was only breathing on it. I felt like I was going to finish already.

He took me two more times, giving as generously as he already had.

I certainly wasn't complaining.

"I want to go home with you," he hissed in my ear twenty minutes later.

I was surprised but couldn't say no to the offer. We drove through NYC to the Upper West Side, kissing so passionately in the elevator we nearly didn't hear the doors open.

I fumbled with my key while Phillip ran his hands down my back and sides. I dropped my keys twice in the act of trying to open the door. "Stop for just a second," I said laughing." Or we'll never get in here."

"I'll never fucking stop," he whispered. "Now that I've had a taste of you I need the whole thing." His cologne was spicy and filled my nostrils. I hoped I would never get the smell of him out of my clothes and skin.

We burst into my apartment. Phillip finally pulled away from me and hit the light switch. "Get changed," he said to me.

"Into what?" I asked him.

"Something sexy. Lace. See-through. Crotch less. Whatever it is, I don't care. Just make sure you don't care too much about it."

"And why is that?" I asked him with a dirty smile.

"Because I’m going to tear it off your body with my teeth," he replied. I ran into my closet and stripped off my now-wrinkled dress. I pulled on a pair of thigh-high fishnets and a black pair of underwear with lace accents. I'd worn a strapless bra earlier; I swapped it out for a balconette bra that barely covered my nipples. I heard a door open and shut and poked my head out into my bedroom. I saw that Phillip was looking into each of the rooms of my apartment.

"Hey!" I yelled.

Phillip jumped and turned to face me. "Sorry, old habit," he said. I stepped all the way out of the bathroom as Phillip's eyes nearly fell out of his head at the sight of me. "Fucking hell," he whispered. He looked slightly sweaty and glassy-eyed.

I rushed over to him, my feet still in my six-inch heels, and tore off his clothes. His chest was more muscular than I could have predicted. Smooth, hairless, and covered in tattoos. "You are quite a surprise," I said to him, running kisses across his chest while I unbuckled his pants. "I never would have expected you to have tattoos." I reached up to run my hands over his biceps but Phillip flinched as I found a place that was covered in fuzzy gauze. I grabbed his arm and tugged it toward me.

He grunted in pain as a bandaged wound revealed itself to me. My doctor brain kicked into high gear. “What happened?” I asked, running my fingers around the edges of the gauze to palpate for pain. There was fresh blood seeping through. I studied Phillip’s quiet face. A vein was throbbing in his forehead from him clenching his jaw and breathing through his nostrils. “Scale of one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

He shook his head. “’Tis but a scratch,” he said quietly. He looked ill.

I guffawed at the Monty Python reference. “Okay, tough guy,” I said. “I know pain when I see it. I’m clocking you at about an eight.” I pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

Phillip didn’t object, which confirmed how bad it was. I stood next to him and pulled off the gauze. Phillip grimaced as I ripped off the tape. “It’s infected,” I said, seeing the pus oozing out of the wound. “And it’s spreading. That’s why it hurt for me to touch the edges.” I saw that that it had been sloppily stitched together with what looked like sewing thread. “Who stitched this up? A cat?”

Phillip laughed. “I did,” he said. “No health insurance.”

I stared at him in disbelief. "You ran a needle through your own skin? Through the back of your arm? How did you do that without passing out?"

"Practice," he replied simply, his eyes glinting at me. They were watery. I put my hand on his forehead.

"You have a fever," I sighed.

"It's just my smoking hotness," he replied with a smile.

"See, now I know you don’t feel well. You're actually making jokes."

"You've only known me twenty-four hours. How do you know
this
isn't the real me?" he asked with a grin.

He had a point.

I walked into the living room and returned with my medical kit. I set the black case on the bed and pulled on a pair of blue nitrile gloves, fishing out several syringes, sutures, a needle, and a hemostat. “I need to take these stitches out.”

I was in my element. 

“Most women would be vomiting into a trash can right now,” Phillip said.

I laughed. “Most
women
? No, most
men
, actually. Ask any nurse at
any
hospital. Nine times out of ten if someone is passing out from blood, it's the most muscular, tall, tough-guy patient on the floor. Tattoos are usually a dead giveaway that they're a fainter, ironically enough." I paused, looking at the ink on Phillip’s perfect, sand-colored skin. "Obviously that's not the case here." I put my hand on his arm. "Turn your head. I'm going to numb the area as best I can, alright?"

Phillip grinned at me in a dopey way and laughed. "You know this could be a kink thing, right? You're the hottest fucking doctor I've ever seen in my life. Black bra, black panties, fishnet thigh-highs and fuck-me heels-"

I took the opportunity of him being distracted by my tits to inject him with the syringe. 

He howled. "I didn't realize that you were a goddamned masochist," he moaned.

"Distraction is the best method for making a patient feel comfortable. I took my opportunity." I pulled out another syringe and jabbed it into his arm, peering at the clean margins of the gash. "Seriously, you have muscle tearing with this wound. You should really go to a hospital for this."

"No hospitals," Phillip snapped, sounding panicked. "Just fix me however you can."

"We have to wait a few minutes for the local anesthetic to take effect." I reached back into my bag and pulled out a few narcotics, shaking them into my hand. "You should take these, too."

Phillip recoiled. "I don't like drugs," he said. "I'm fine."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you want me to tie you to the bed and force-feed these to you? This is cruel and unusual for you not to have narcotics. As your doctor, I insist." I reached back into the box and grabbed antibiotics to add to the cocktail.

The fever seemed to be growing; his eyes were glassier than ever. "
That
would be kinky as fuck."

I laughed. He was adorable when he was feverishly high. I handed him the pills and grabbed the glass of water left by my bedside the night before. He swallowed them, but he didn't look happy about it. I didn't care.

Phillip grinned at me and with his good hand grabbed the side of my back to pull my stomach to his mouth. He licked a circle around my navel; a long, slow kiss on my skin. I breathed in deeply. "This is one of the stranger ways I've delivered medical care," I breathed.

Phillip reached up to squeeze my breast while he kept licking my skin. "You're the best doctor I've ever had." I let him touch me. I figured if it made the patient happy, what was the problem with it?

I was considering it as my payment for a job well-done.

After a few minutes, I'd reached the point of no return. It was either stop him kissing me or mount him with his flesh still open. "Okay, okay!" I said, pushing him away. He was still smoldering at me. I blushed. "Stop
looking at me like that
. If you want your arm fixed, hold your fucking horses."

"I would literally do anything you asked me to do," he said lazily.

"Okay, Romeo. Save that for later, then." I pushed him against the headboard to support his back. I flicked my finger against the edge of the wound. He didn't grimace. "It's working. Good. Now we can move on." I pulled out a bottle of saline and a curved plastic bowl.

"You have everything in there, Mary," he muttered, still watching me work.

"Are you that far gone that you don’t remember my name?" My stomach plummeted. "Hallucinations mean the fever is getting worse and you need an ice bath."

Phillip laughed, his voice getting huskier as the fever grew. "Not that I would object to you bathing me, but I meant Mary Poppins. I know your name is Lily. I could never, ever forget that." He stared at me with a longing in his eyes so sincere and deep I felt like he was looking for my soul.

I cleared my throat. "Good. You're fine, then. I'm going to get to work." I snipped the messy, spiky black stitches and pulled them out of bright red, throbbing skin. Then I set to work to debride the wound. Phillip was tougher than I thought with a higher pain tolerance than I'd ever seen. Once the fairly light anesthetic had gotten to work, he was fine. Most people would still have passed out at the first squirt of saline.

"Okay, brace yourself," I said. I reached into my bag and handed him a bite stick. "Bite on this. I'm sterilizing it with alcohol and iodine. It's going to hurt. A lot." Phillip took the stick and somehow managed to not pass out. "Good job," I said to him.

"Do I get a lollipop at the end of this visit?"

"You'll get better than that, I promise." I pulled out soluble sutures that I'd lifted from the hospital. I liked to practice my sutures while I watched TV. I usually did it on a banana. I had to stay sharp, even after forty-eight-hour shifts at the hospital. I pulled my bedside table lamp, which was a high-watt bulb designed to mimic sunshine during short sunlight days of a New York winter, closer to Phillip's arm so I could see.