The Complete Contract Series (12 page)

Miller

I waited to wake up Laura until after I got rid of Roderick and Julia.

“Wake up girl, I’m horny.”

“Did you kill him?”

“I can’t tell you that, silly girl.”

“I’m tired of being the scared girl. Tell me, did you kill him?”

I leaned up on one elbow and eyed her. “Telling you that is going to take things to a whole different level. Are you willing to be an accessory to a crime that could put you in the penitentiary for the rest of your days? Do you really want to go there?”

The look in her eyes was one of determination and not fear.

“Yes, I want to know. And not only that, I want to work with you.”

“Yes, I killed him.”

“Train me and take me on as your partner. I’m tired of being holed up in this condo because of my fear.”

“Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes, I do. It’s time for me to make a change.”

“Alright girl, it’s settled. Tomorrow we start the transformation from wallflower to kick-ass hit woman. But right now I’ve got one thing on the brain and that’s sinking deep into that hot little pussy of yours.”

I unbuttoned my shirt she was wearing and lapped my tongue over one of her pert little nipples. My teeth grazed over it biting down just enough to cause her to moan. My hand slid between her legs and in no time she was grinding into it and I reveled in the fact that she was already soaking wet.

“Yeah, you being my partner in crime turns me on too. I’m looking forward to training you. I like the thought of standing behind you and grinding my cock into you while you shoot at a target on a gun range. The thing that excites me the most is elevating your threshold for pain. Strapping your hot little ass up and wearing you down with the strap of my belt while you beg for mercy—or beg for more—excites me. Get those fucking legs back and hold them back, don’t you dare let go of them either.”

I slid down between her legs and ran my tongue painfully slow up and down her soaked opening. Two of my fingers plunged into her as I began pulling them back in my direction—stroking over her g-spot. That wonderful spot she’d believed to be non-existent before I became a part of her world. Her screams insisting that I stop before she pissed all over the bed were ignored. I knew the difference between squirting and pissing and I was getting ready to teach her. She screamed out one last time before I took her over the edge and she dissolved into a helpless, wet puddle of orgasm.

She groaned as I placed one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her up so that I had full access to fucking her like I owned her. I could feel myself bottoming out as her muscles clenched around me and milked every ounce of strength from my body. I crashed down beside her on the bed, giving in to the aftershock of the orgasm we’d just experienced. I couldn’t ever remember a time that my body had been sapped of all that I had. Sex with her was so much more than an orgasm, it was an all consuming uniting of not only body, but mind, will, emotion, and soul. She was my soul mate and where I would normally never allow any woman that I was sleeping with to partner with me, she was different.

She was my friend, my lover, my confidant, and my soon to be trained partner in crime. She was going to see a side of me that she had never seen before. I was going to put her through a boot camp of sorts and only time would tell if she could handle the cold, sadistic, military boot camp, Drill Sergeant, hoorah, son of a bitch, she was getting ready to encounter. For some odd reason I felt like this little wallflower might just end up shocking me. There might just be a badass underneath all of that innocence. I was definitely curious to find out and if she thought I was going to take it easy on her. She would be sorely mistaken—if anything, I was going to put her through the wringer. If she was going run with the big boys, then she had better be able to stand the pressure of looking someone in the eye and killing them with no hesitation. If there was a warrior in there, then I would bring it out of her.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Laura

I’m standing in the mirror looking at Laura for the last time—today she will die. The scissors I am gripping in a fisted manner give testimony to that fact. No longer will I be the woman who is afraid to go outside. Now I will be the woman others take note of and fear, the woman who will be an equalizer of sorts. That is exactly why I am doing this.

I have allowed myself in the past to be victimized. I was filled with so much fear I could no longer cross the threshold of my own home.

It is with a mixture of joy and apprehension that I am killing not only the victim, but the word and the mind-set from my very being.

Water trickles down my breasts and I once again shimmy my towel filled hands through my wet hair, tossing the towel to the side on the tiled bathroom floor.

I don’t even bother to run a comb through it before I begin picking up chunks with one hand and cutting it in long layers with the other. Though my virgin hair is still untouched by chemicals, it will now give off more of a golden color when I am finished with it due to styling products. By the time that I am finished, I will no longer emanate innocence—I will exude sex appeal.

If I know anything, I know men think with their cocks. If I am going to get close enough to look them in the eye and kill them, then I am going to have to utilize my feminine wiles. I will be a femme fatale of sorts. I will be a force to be reckoned with.

Satisfied with the cutting of my hair, I grab a light mousse and scrunch through it. I will let it remain until I apply make-up and then blow it out with a blow-dryer.

I reach down grabbing the fishing tackle box that I use to house my various products. Though I have anything necessary to obtain any look that I desire, this look will mandate a smokey eye and a black kohl liner.

My fingers press down running the liner under both eyes and already I am beginning to note a transformation. I can see the femme fatal looking back at me as if she is challenging me to continue on, un-thwarted. I finish off my eyes and line my already plump lips with a pale pink liner and then I add a nude gloss—I can’t believe the difference. I grab the blow dryer and began to scrunch long layered chunks of hair which serves to give it a full, long layered, and very sexy look.

I look up to view Miller standing in the hallway staring—as if in deep thought. He stalks in my direction wearing only draw-string pants and a scowl.

I eye him in the mirror and I can already feel my heart beginning to race. The trepidation is warranted by the fact that I simply can’t read the man.

In one fluid move he grabs one of my arms twisting it behind my back, never breaking eye contact in the mirror. His voice comes out in a deep feral growl.

“What are you going to do when a man you are trying to seduce in order to set him up for the kill, slams your ass into a brick wall or pins you against graffiti laden concrete in a back alley? Don’t think for one moment you are going to work hand in hand with me and not be trained correctly. You’re going to see a side of me you may hate at times. You have one life to live and you won’t be losing it on my watch.”

His other hand fists my hair, jerking my head back so that my ear is right by his mouth. “You’ve been pampered up to this point, but now… it’s time for you to become a trained killer. The first lesson you learn: you better be able to follow my orders.”

I shake my head yes, knowing that now is not the time for talking.

“Get your fucking hands on that sink and no matter what I do to you, you better not move them.”

I place my hands on the sink and grip it to keep them from sliding on the damp surface. I find myself wishing I had dried the counter off. One of his hands still holds fast to the fistful of hair and he is pulling at the drawstring on his pants with the other causing them to drop. He kicks them off, never breaking contact with my eyes he still holds hostage in the mirror.

He pinches at my inner thigh and I spread my legs. Only when he drops to his knees does he let go of my hair.

“So wet. Such a dirty little girl.”

His fingers spread the lips of my opening and he torments me by slowly running his tongue up and down my slit—stopping intermittently to threaten me with his words.

“I can make you feel so fucking good, all you have to do is take your hands off of that sink.”

“No! I know what you’re doing, Miller.”

One of his thick fingers slides into me with ease due to the juices that are now flowing freely. He pulls at my clit with his lips and my legs are now shaking, giving testimony of how desperately I want to remove my hands to get some satisfaction from the pleasure that has now become torment.

“Miller, please baby, let me come.”

His tongue flicks as one finger is now replaced with two. I can feel myself pushing into the onslaught and my cries of “please,” have now become cries of “pleeeeze, I’ll do anything.”

“Take those hands off the sink.”

“No! Fuck no—anything but that.”

Over and over he torments me bringing me right to the edge of orgasm and then stopping when I won’t relinquish my hold on the sink. I know what he is doing and I am not about to give up the chance to work with him for a mere orgasm.

He stands and resumes jerking at a handful of my hair causing me to cry out due to frustration and his unpredictability. This is a new Miller I am seeing and though he has always been here, I have yet to experience him. It is causing a different kind of fear to course through my being—an exotic agitation that promises a surge of adrenaline to a woman who is quickly becoming a junkie of sorts.

His thick cock is forced into me as if it is a weapon he has chosen to use to try and dissuade me from my decision to not move my hands. An angry fucking ensues as threats are hissed into my ear and I know he is repaying me for not giving in to the pleasure that has been right here within my grasp.

“I’ll fucking use you and degrade you like you are my toy.”

“I don’t give a fuck—I’m not moving my hands.”

His hands move to my hips and he forces his fingertips so roughly into my soft flesh that I know there will be bruises tomorrow.

“You are hard headed, I’ll give you that.”

He pulls his cock from me, frustrated that I won’t give in to the mandate of releasing the slippery surface. I hold onto it as if my life depends on it—and, in a sense, it does. His full lips lock onto my swollen clit again and once again, he taunts me with the torment of having no release.

His lips move long enough for threats to be hurled in my direction.

“Oh, you must have a fucking death wish—you really want to work with me badly, don’t you girl? That little pussy of yours is so swollen and you still won’t let go.”

He flicks his tongue over my agonized clit and though my legs tremble giving me away, my hands remain knuckle white locked onto a surface that holds much more meaning than just me holding onto it. Miller has commanded that I do something—that is the issue here:
the mandate
.

He once again rises and literally slams his cock up and into me. It is his form of punishment for not being able to manipulate my hands from the cold marble of the bathroom sink.

In a move that totally catches me unaware, he slows down the grinding of his hips and begins to pet the hair that only a moment ago he had pulled in fury.

“Such a good girl,” he coos as his finger strums lightly over my clit while his cock slowly moves in and out of me with perfect timing.

“You’re going to make me come.”

“Oh yes, I am, baby girl.”

As if on cue, my body explodes—shaking as one continual orgasm runs into another. I listen as he tells me how good I was for not giving in—but I still hold onto that fucking marble topped sink…