Page 35 of Kill Song

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Our defense training had been amazing and filled with easy smiles and laughter. We'd showered, separately, and then she let me feed her breakfast while she went over some files, before announcing we needed to leave for our appointment. At her direction, I'd dressed in business casual. The button-down shirt tucked neatly into the slacks and was accompanied by a matching suit jacket. I hadn't even realized how many nice things had found their way into my closet.

Vienna, unsurprisingly, had impeccable taste. When she descended the steps wearing a dark gray pencil skirt, with a white blouse and a pair of black stilettos, I should have realized our meeting was with a man. Breathtaking didn't begin to describe her ensemble, yet she was every bit the beauty in bare feet, a tank top and sleep pants, with her hair falling in disarray across her pillows.

I'd bet she looked even better riding my cock with my hands stroking her body—a vision I had to force out of my mind so many times while we were grappling. Yet, if the gleam in her eyes was anything to go by, she was well aware of her sensual assault on my sanity, and seemed to be enjoying it.

"Rick," she said as she paused a few feet from the lobby doors. The name gave me pause. I’d never liked nicknames. Nor had I cared for those who dubbed me with one, but Vienna calling me Rick gave me images of Rick Blaine fromCasablancaand she’d be the perfect Ilsa Lund. Only, I would never let her leave forever with another man. Not without me anyway—or at least the plan to follow her.

Still, I put those fanciful thoughts away. Since we’d left the car, I’d carried a single leather satchel that just seemed a fancier briefcase for her, though she had her own purse, also in the same dark gray as the rest of her outfit.

She smoothed down my shirt as I focused on her dark eyes. "Are you ready to do this?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "Though you haven't said what we're doing. I assume if you need me to do something you'll tell me."

The smile softening her lips loosened some of the tension in my gut. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening." Then she winked. "And for trusting me." With that, she pivoted one her heel and I barely made it to the door before her, so I could open it for her.

The easy sway of her hips in the pencil skirt was mesmerizing, and I would have gladly immersed myself in the joy of watching her walk, except there were others around. A security guard working the desk. Other people coming and going. She didn't slow, heading straight for a private bank of elevators.

With the swipe of a card, she opened a pair of elevator doors and then stepped inside. Once in, she glanced up and to the left without touching the control panel. "Bring me to the right floor, Fletcher."

Fletcher?

The elevator began moving as the twenty-seventh floor button illuminated.

Who the hell was this guy?

The ride was smooth and swift, then the doors opened to a spacious looking apartment. There was a table set for lunch, with an open bottle of wine chilling, and a cheese tray set out.

This didn't look like an errand.

"Drew, you sexy little minx," a man said as he strolled out of the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand. There were some bruises on his face, fading, but clearly he'd taken a bit of a beating. His longish, dark brown hair was pulled back from his face and he wore the smile of a man who wanted the woman at my side.

Every alarm bell in my system went off as I fixed him with a look.

"I thought we were going to keep this private," he continued, his gaze barely flicking to me. "Though I gotta admit, you have hot librarian down to an art." No, I didn't like how he looked at her or how his eyes seemed to hold a shared secret.

No doubt existed in me whatsoever. This "Fletcher" wanted her. Something dark, possessive, and furious rolled through my system. I'd given her my word that I would do as she said—within reason. The last part being the caveat I added. So, I split the difference and asked first.

"Can I kill him?"

Fletcher grinned, amused by my comment, until he caught a look at Vienna. I always struggled to see anything else in the room when I was with her, but right now, I could barely take my attention away from the man who threatened my claim on her.

Not that I had claimed her, but to me, she was already mine. She just didn’t know it yet.

When I did tear my piqued gaze away from him, Vienna had taken a step closer to me, nearly within a foot of my side and I clenched my fist tight to avoid snagging my arm around her waist. I couldn’t do that to her here, no matter how much I wanted to show “Fletcher” that he couldn’t have her.

Vienna wasn’t smiling, and she wasn’t glaring either. Instead, she was taking me in with a contemplative look on her face. Regardless, having her full attention was bringing a heat to my face I wish I didn’t have in front of this man.

With her, I didn’t care, but I didn’t want him to see any kind of vulnerability.

“Shit,” Fletcher coughed into his hand. “I thought he was joking, but he’s serious, isn’t he?” He waved a hand at me as if I wasn’t a participating person in this conversation.

She didn’t answer him right away, but when she did turn her head back to him, slower than she normally moved, she flashed him a quick and easy grin. “He’s practically harmless. Unless you try to fuck me over, then yes, he’s serious.”

I couldn’t help it, the sly grin that took over my face was a victory I couldn’t suppress. This man wasn’t someone she was dating or wanted to date if she was letting him know I could kill him.


Tags: Heather Long Erotic