Lace and Bullets: A Hitman Romance (7 page)

F
uck
. He growled into her lips. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His words came out harsh and thick, but he couldn’t hold back.

All that silky, soft skin. Flushed cheeks. Lips she used so well. He pushed her hair off her face and captured her mouth again.

Mia did something to him no other woman had. She made him human.

It was a million kinds of wrong. He never should have touched her. Never should have taken her out of her father’s house and turned her whole world upside down. But there was no going back.

He couldn’t undo the damage. All he could do was drown in it.

The water ran over his hands as he traced circles up and down her slick skin. The cheap motel lighting showcased every bruise and scrape on her body. Every place she’d fought him and that bastard Rocco. Every punch and kick and scream.

Mia didn’t know how strong she really was. She might be terrified, but through it all, she’d kept fighting. When she broke down in the other room…when she’d cried and trembled and looked up at him with those big chocolate eyes full of fear…

It had done something to him. He didn’t just want to help her. He needed to.

The thought sent a tremor through his body. Was that how Melanie had felt when he had looked up to her all those years ago? Was that why she had sacrificed her whole life for him?

Mia reached up and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips touched and Damien knew this woman would be his undoing. She would wreck him.

Her nipples pebbled in front of him and Damien bent to suckle. She whimpered and he flicked his tongue. She cried out and he sucked.

With every stroke and pinch of her sensitive flesh, Mia came apart. Her cries turned to mewls and she clawed at his arms, dragging him closer.

“Please, Damien.”

Oh, Christ. Don’t beg me, baby. I can’t…

Damien flipped her around with a groan. Her breasts mashed into the cold tile and her fingers scrabbled up the wall as he crowded tight against her.

“You’re a dangerous woman, Mia Davenport.”

She moaned. He nipped her earlobe with his teeth.

“You make me forget to look behind my shoulder. When you’re here, like this…” Damien slipped his hand between her legs.
So wet.
“I forget about all the people who want me dead. The thugs hunting us this very minute.”

He found her clit and rubbed, up and down, side to side. Around and around until the little bud swelled with anticipation. Mia whimpered and bucked into his hand.

“You make me reckless.”

She shuddered against him and Damien couldn’t wait any longer. With one hand braced on the tile and one gripping her hip, he took what he wanted. The woman he so desperately needed.

Drugs weren’t his thing. He’d seen addiction and its devastation first hand. But Mia made him crave. Made him ache.

She was his heroin. His meth. He’d do anything for one more hit. One more high.

Oh, God
. His cock sunk inside her tight sheath. No holding back. No easing in. Just base need. Animal drive.

He grunted and slammed his other hand on the wall.
So fucking tight.

She pressed her ass against him and he thrust. Hard and quick, over and over. A brutal rhythm that crushed her upper body into the shower wall and brought him racing toward the abyss.

Mia cried out, her voice stolen by the torrent of water sloshing over them both, and her body gripped him in pleasure. Again and again her muscles milked him, spurring him toward his own release.

How could he hold back when this beautiful creature was shaking beneath him?

With a final pump of his hips, Damien came. Hot and fast and thick, his release filled her up. He’d taken her bare. Again.

He sagged against her, his head pressed into the tile. Mia had been the first. The only woman who’d trusted him enough to take him without protection and to let him come inside her.

Knowing that he’d filled her with his seed—with a part of his fucking soul—it crushed him. She was light where he was dark. She was heaven and he was so far down in the depths of hell.

No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he would never, ever deserve her.

As the water turned cool, Damien pulled back. He turned the shower off and grabbed a towel. Draping it over Mia’s shoulders, he tried to focus. She wasn’t his forever. Damien didn’t have one.

The first shot he took, the first life he ended, that was where his future stopped. There was nowhere for him to go but down.

After grabbing another towel and wrapping it around his waist, he turned back to Mia. She’d tugged the cotton around her shoulders, but exhaustion was creeping up. She lolled against the tile wall.

He dried her off with slow and gentle strokes, soaking up the water along with his guilt. The beautiful, lonely woman turning around in his arms deserved more than this. More than him.

She deserved a husband and a family and a fucking white picket fence.

Not death and destruction and fear.

With a deep breath, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He tugged the bed covers down and nestled her into the sheets. She didn’t even open her eyes.

He tucked the blanket up around her and stepped back. Damien had never looked after anyone before. Not a cat or a stray dog. Not even his sister.

Melanie
.

He tugged on his clothes and sat down on the room’s only chair. Threadbare and frayed, it wasn’t much. Just like him.

With a deep breath, he pulled the locket from around his neck and flipped it open. The faded picture had a crease running through the middle and a torn corner. But it was the only picture he had. Damien ran his finger over the little girl’s face. Her hair was like Mia’s—brown and straight—but her big blue eyes held a pain no child should bear.

A worker in the group home had taken the photo. She had told Melanie to give her best smile since her picture was the first thing foster families would see. His sister knew better. No one wanted a twelve-year-old girl and her tag-along little brother.

She spent her whole life taking care of him. Every scrap of food she got, she’d break in half and let him pick. He never thought to take the smaller half. Not when he was little.

When they got older…after Marcelo’s crew picked them up…it was too late. The sister he knew was already gone.

He scrubbed his face with his hand. How could he have ever sent Mia to the same fate? Had it been that long since he’d seen goodness? Hope? Had he become immune to the humanity some people still possessed?

Mia shifted in the bed and Damien shook his head at his own heartlessness. He needed to find a way to get her home and the cartel off her back. It didn’t matter what happened to him. He was a dead man.

Damien pulled a wad of cash out of his front pocket and set his handgun on the table. Only one person came to mind.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number he still knew by heart.

“Wellington PD, Johnson.”

“Hey Rick, it’s Damien Rogers.”

The twenty-year veteran of the police department turned the phone off speaker. “Are you all right?”

“Not dead yet. Need a favor.”

“It’s been a long time. The precinct’s changed.”

“I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious. I don’t know who else I can trust.”

Damien ran his fingers over the ridges in the tabletop while Rick mulled it over. He was the only cop who’d ever shown a bit of kindness to Melanie. If he were on duty when she was hauled in, he’d call Damien first and get her released to his custody.

‘What do you need?”

“I’ve got a woman with me. She’s gotten tangled up in Marcelo’s gang. I’ve got to get her out.”

“What’s she done? Petty theft? Prostitution?”

Damien dug his fingernail into his palm. “No. Nothing like that. Marcelo wants her dead. She needs protection.”

“Whoa…you know I can’t promise anything like that. Shit, Damien, half the cops… you know.”

He didn’t need to say it. Damien knew. They were either on the take or would be if Marcelo’s men could get to them. It always amazed him what a couple grand in a pocket could do.

“She’s not just a girl from the streets, Rick. She’s the DA’s daughter.”

Rick cursed into the phone. “You’re involved in the Davenport mess? Fuck, man, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“What’s the talk?”

“That it’s Marcelo’s work. But the ADA wants it wrapped up. He’s up the chief’s ass every damn day to get the case closed. He’s gunning for an interim appointment and then the election.” Rick paused. “The DA’s body hasn’t been released from the morgue and the man is already campaigning. It’s sick.”

“It’s politics.” Damien cracked his knuckles. It’s why he couldn’t stand the rich in town. They were worse than the criminals. At least a thug was straight up with his crimes. The politicians and the attorneys and the cops? They were the liars.

“Can you help her?”

“I can try.”

Damien exhaled. Probably the best he could do. “Thanks, Rick.”

“No promises, Damien.”

“I know. I’ll be back in touch.” He hung up as Mia rolled over in the bed.

“Is something wrong?” Her sweet, sleepy voice tugged at something long buried inside him.

Damien stood up in a rush. “No. Go back to sleep.”

Her caramel hair trailed behind her as she leaned close. “Come to bed. You must be exhausted.” She patted the empty pillow and Damien swallowed.

Women didn’t affect him. They could be pretty or ugly, fat or thin. He never cared. They had only been tools. Something he used to pass the time or get his rocks off. Not a person with feelings attached.

But one look at the beautiful, innocent woman smiling up at him, half-drunk on sleep, had his hard edges easing. She was a bad influence.

A terrible decision.

Mia needed to get far, far away from him before he couldn’t stop himself. Damien walked up to the bed. She smiled and another chink in his armor broke free.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” His words came out thick. Heavy.

She rolled over and pushed the covers down. “I’m not.”

Damn
. Her body curved against the mattress. Pert breasts, wide hips, gorgeous ass.

He let out a low groan and climbed over her. “Be careful what you wish for, Mia.”

“Too late.”

Her lips landed on his and Damien came unglued. His hands were too rough, too hard. He tore at her skin, shoved her legs apart with his knees. She was pinned beneath him but it wasn’t enough. He wanted every inch she could give.

Every last part of herself. He wanted to drown in the smell of her, so clean and pure. He yanked his pants open and his cock sprang free. She rose up to meet him.

Damien took. He plowed her depths, sinking inside her empty channel so fast, she cried out. So fucking wet and ready. He wasn’t a religious man, but right then he wanted to pray.

M
ia rolled
over on the lumpy mattress and reached for Damien. The bed was empty. She sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes as the bathroom door opened.

Damien stood in the glow of the bathroom light, skin damp and glistening, wearing nothing but a towel. Mia swallowed.

Her nipples hardened against the scratchy sheet and she shifted on the bed. Her body ached for him.

“Good morning.” She smiled, but he only nodded and bent to grab his clothes.

“We need to get going.” He jerked his head toward the open door. “I’m done in there.”

Mia blinked. The night before…the things he did to her…the way he made her feel. It was better than anything.

Why would he shut her out? She slid off the bed and crouched beside him, her naked body barely hidden behind her bent legs. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”

“I already told you. We’ve got to go. Marcelo can’t be that far behind us. We need new clothes and a new set of plates. There’s a town not too far ahead. Should have something.”

An angry scab snaked down Damien’s shoulder and as he reached for his crumpled up shirt, it split open.

“You’re bleeding.” Mia reached out. “Let me help—”

Damien shrugged her off and stood up. “It’s just a scratch. You need to get ready. We’re leaving in ten.”

Mia rocked back on her heels. He was shutting her out, but she didn’t know why. After all they had shared…She shook her head and stood up. “Fine. I’ll be ready.” She walked into the bathroom with a purposeful shake of her naked ass and slammed the door.

Ten minutes later, Damien pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed back to the interstate.

“Where are we going?”

“Further away.”

Mia exhaled and fidgeted with the belt. “We can’t just keep driving, Damien. We need a plan. A way to put Marcelo behind bars.”

“We’ve already talked about this. Running is the only thing we can do.”

She twisted the black seat belt around her fingers. “I’ve got connections. I can put in a call to the ADA. He’s an asshole, but he’s a good lawyer. He could get you a deal.”

Damien’s hands clenched the steering wheel so hard it let out a crack. “No.”

“He’s not like my father. He always bitched about how my dad handled cases. He’s one of the good guys.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“How can you say that?”

Damien turned to her. His eyes shone with emotion. “There’s no good and there’s no bad. Don’t you see that? Good people do bad things. Bad people do good things. This whole world is one fucked up pool and we’re all just treading water, trying to survive.”

Mia shrank back against the door. “You can’t mean that.”

Damien focused on the road.

“Good and evil exists, Damien. I’m not saying there are perfect people out there, but not everyone is bad. Not everyone crosses the line.”

He didn’t take his eyes from the road. “There is no line, Mia. There’s only what we choose to do in the moment. That’s all that matters. Our choices and whether we can live with them.”

The car slowed and Mia sat up to look out the window. The big blue box of a Wal-Mart swam in front of her blurry eyes. She wiped at them with the grimy hem of her sleeve.

A handful of words and the man beside her had gotten under her skin. She’d always looked at the world in black and white. Good and bad. Not a continuous spectrum of gray. Was that because she’d been sheltered? Because she hadn’t seen the dark inside so many people like Damien had?

He pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. He flicked off a sizable sum and handed it over.

“Go inside and buy some new clothes. Things that are comfortable. Easy to run in. Get anything else you need, too.”

She took the money. “What about you?”

He scanned the parking lot. “I’ll be inside, but I’ve got to scope the lot first. We need a new license plate.” His eyes met hers and their intensity shocked her. The man who cleaned her cuts and scrapes in the shower was gone.

In his place was a murderer with a job to do. “If you see me in the store, don’t acknowledge me. Pretend we don’t know each other. I’ll pull up to the side entrance in exactly one hour. Be ready.”

Mia nodded and reached for the door handle. His hand grabbed her arm.

As she turned around, his lips landed on hers. Hot and insistent and full of emotion. All too soon, he pulled away. “Trust me, Mia. I know what I’m doing.”

She wanted so desperately to believe him. “I’ll be ready in an hour.”

“Be careful.”

She nodded and Damien let her go.

The entire walk into the store made Mia feel like a criminal. Did people know she was on the run? Did they see right through her too-big clothes and ill-fitting shoes to the woman underneath?

The automatic doors opened and she headed straight for a shopping cart and then the women’s section. Jeans. A couple shirts. A sweater. Socks and new sneakers. Everything went into the cart.

She paused at the lingerie. Damien had said anything she needed. She hugged the sweatshirt to her chest. Did lace bras and panties count?
Hell, yes.
She tossed a few in the cart.

A cross-body purse and a pair of sunglasses and Mia’s chest lost some of its tightness. She was starting to feel real. Add in makeup and a toothbrush,
thank God
, and she smiled at the cashier as she rang her up.

Damien wanted to drive all day in a car with stolen license plates? No problem now that she had some decent clothes and could look in the mirror without cringing. She thanked the cashier and hustled all of her bags into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she emerged a new woman.

They might not be the designer clothes she was used to, but they were a million times better. None of the things her father shoved her way ever made her feel this happy. Not the bank account or the private school or the fancy gala, none of it ever did more than make her angry. Sad.

There had to be a way to stop Marcelo. Mia swung her purse over her shoulder and checked the time. Fifteen minutes.

She could wait at the side entrance and hope Damien fared as well, or she could make something happen. If she could show Damien there were good people in the world, if she could prove it to him and find a way to put Marcelo away…

Maybe they’d have a chance.

They couldn’t run forever. Visions of the future swam before her eyes and she hustled to the rear of the store.

“Hello, can I help you find a new phone today?”

Mia smiled at the young man behind the counter. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen. “Could I look at a smart phone? All my friends say I should get one now that I’ve got a job, but I don’t know.”

He grabbed a phone from the display and held it out. “This is a good one. It’s got all the bells and whistles. GPS, email, video.”

“It can text right?”

“Oh, yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobbed and Mia smiled bigger.

“Do you have it in pink?”

“I…have to check. Can you hold on?”

She nodded. As the clerk stepped over to the cash register, Mia swiped the phone on. She hated to lie to the kid, but desperate times.

Before he could catch her, she typed out a quick message to the only man she knew who could help. If it went through, he’d be on the alert. Maybe he would even come up with a solution.

She hit send and closed the app as the clerk came back.

“I’m sorry, it only comes in black.”

Mia pouted. “Guess I’ll have to keep looking. Thanks!” She smiled again and hustled off.

Whoa
. As she hurried through the aisles, her breathing slowed. She wasn’t a virgin liar, but sneaking back into a boarding school bedroom and lying to the headmaster wasn’t in the same league as her current endeavor.

Damien’s words echoed in her head. Could she live with the choices she made since she snuck into her father’s office?

Was she only treading water?

Clutching her purse close to her body, she ran-walked to the side entrance. Damien might not believe in the goodness of people, but Mia still did. Marcelo might not back off on his own, but if she could get the right people involved…

Damien would have to understand. She wasn’t cut out to be a criminal. With any luck, he wouldn’t be one forever.

Mia stepped outside as a sleek black car pulled up to the sidewalk. The passenger door swung open.

“Get in.” Damien’s voice called out from inside and Mia ran up to the car.

She slid into the waiting seat and swung the door shut as Damien hit the accelerator.

Mia buckled the seat belt and glanced around the car. It was new with a push start ignition, leather seats. A set of keys sat in the cup holder. “I thought you needed new license plates.”

He shrugged. “Got those too.”

Mia swallowed. He acted like stealing a car was no big deal. “How’d you do it?”

“When you grow up on the streets you pick up all sorts of survival skills.”

“Theft?”

“Pickpocketing, mostly.” He glanced at her before turning onto the road. “You find everything you need?”

She nodded. Her world just kept getting crazier. “So where to now?”

Damien pointed toward a sign as they merged onto the interstate. “Next town is in a hundred miles. I figure it’s far enough away for the day.”

Mia smiled and turned toward the window. She wanted to tell him about the text and explain that they could stop running. She might even beg him to turn the car around.

The further they ran, the more it looked like they had something to hide. If she could convince Damien to talk to the authorities, she could get him a deal. She could make it all stop.

But if she told him now, he’d probably open the passenger door and push her right out. It didn’t matter that every time she looked at him, she fell a little harder. Damien was a killer. He wouldn’t understand why. He wouldn’t stop to listen.

Mia watched the small town disappear out the window as they drove into the country. Big box stores and warehouses thinned, houses stopped dotting the edge of the road.

Trees and fields took the places of civilization. They were in the middle of nowhere and nothing Mia said would change Damien’s mind.

She glanced at him. All rough edges and hard stares. But she’d seen the real him. The man he hid behind the tattoos and scars. The one who gave more than he took. The one who made her heart flutter and her breath catch.

She would hold her tongue until the time was right, even if it meant having to lie. Damien’s words came back to her and she curled up in the seat. Maybe she was swimming in the middle, right along with everyone else.