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God, Holly must be worried to death. I push aside thoughts of my wife. I can’t let myself think about her out here, not while I’m working. It’s too dangerous and easy for my guard to drop when I’m thinking about her, so I put all my focus back on the house in front of me. I was supposed to be done with this job by sunrise at the latest, and now it’s pushing midnight. The mistress is not part of the plan, so I keep waiting, hoping she’ll wear the old guy out and leave with enough time for me to get in there and do what I need to do before his wife returns.

I turn my head to the hose sticking out by the neck of my jacket and grip the bite valve between my teeth, taking another drink from the hydration pack I have strapped under my jacket and wonder if I should eat my last protein bar or save it. I decide to wait in case this fucker decides to pop another Viagra. I’ve just about reached the end of my patience when I hear a shrill laugh cut through the quiet of the night. The tall redhead steps out of his house, calling out a goodbye and blowing a kiss to her lover before walking back to her corvette in a very unsteady balancing act on four-inch heels across the icy driveway.

After she drives off, I wait exactly fifteen minutes to make sure she didn’t forget anything before I slowly start to make my way across his backyard. I’m already wearing booties over my boots to cover up any tread marks, and with my balaclava, most of my physical features are hidden if any nosy neighbors happen to see something they shouldn’t. My gun is already out and ready, silencer in place. The rush of adrenaline I always get with my work hits me hard, making me feel completely and fully alive. Until Holly, I’d never known I could feel that way outside of my job. It’s not that I enjoy killing people. I enjoy the challenge of it, the skill and planning involved, and the physical endurance that’s needed. I have a knack for it. The killing is just an unavoidable part of it.

When I’m at his backdoor, I pause and listen, making sure I don’t hear anything before typing in the passcode I’d memorized earlier and silently slipping inside. The layout of his house is exactly like the plans I’d studied. I immediately head for the bedroom, knowing that’s most likely where he’s at, probably recouping from his 24-hour fuck fest that he’d timed with his wife’s trip.

My whole body is on high alert when I enter his bedroom with my gun drawn. A quick sweep lets me know the room is empty, but the sound of a door opening has me turning quickly to the left, and as soon as Anthony Marcotti steps out from the bathroom, he barely has time to register my presence before I’ve fired two bullets—one in his heart and one right between his eyes. He drops to the floor with a loud, clumsy thud, dead before his head even hits the ground.

Satisfied, I leave the same way I came, shutting the door and re-alarming the security system. There won’t be any cleanup on this job. Viktor wants to send a message to the Marcotti family, a warning they won’t be able to ignore.

Rushing back to the woods, I look behind and make sure I haven’t left any obvious tracks in the snow. They’ll be able to tell someone came this way, but they won’t get anything that’ll tie me to the place. It’s already started to snow, though, so I’m guessing what tracks are here will be covered in just a few hours.

I run through the woods to where I parked my truck about a mile away. As soon as I’m inside I turn the damn heater on, more than ready to get back home. I make a quick stop at the restaurant to grab my phone. I send a thumbs up emoji to Ivan to let him know it’s done and went well, and then I send a text to Holly. When she doesn’t respond, I groan and lock the restaurant back up before getting back in my truck. It takes everything I have to not break every traffic law and speed home to her, but I don’t. I force myself to go the speed limit and calmly drive back to our house.

As soon as I see our dark house ahead, my heart gives a painful lurch. Holly not remembering to turn on the outside Christmas lights, especially on Christmas Eve, is such a foreign concept I can’t even wrap my brain around it. Fear grips me unlike anything I’ve ever known. A thousand worst-case scenarios roar through my head. Images of her having an asthma attack and not getting to her inhaler in time or the possibility that maybe she’s run off, maybe none of this was real for her and she took the first opportunity she could to get the hell away from me.

By the time I’m pulling into the garage and racing out of my truck, I’ve worked myself into a full panic. The garage door doesn’t even have time to shut before I’m unlocking the door to the house and rushing inside, not sure I’m ready to face what’s waiting for me. I’m so blinded by my fear that I almost miss the sight of her small body on the floor as I run past to get to the stairs. Doubling back, I look down at her, not even daring to breathe until I see the rise and fall of her chest, and when I do, I let out a shaky breath and squat down next to her, so overcome with relief and love that all I can do is sit there and stare at her while my body slowly relaxes and my blood pressure recedes from the stroke level it was just at.

I watch my beautiful wife, noticing the tear-streaked cheeks and pale tint to her skin. God, she must’ve been terrified I wouldn’t ever come back. Noticing the album beside her, I pick it up, carefully flipping through the pages that show her sweet face, watching her grow into the amazing woman before me. She looks so damn happy with her dad, and I know she’d fallen asleep after convincing herself that he wasn’t the only man she’d lost from her life.

The image breaks my heart, and when I reach down to brush a dark strand of hair from where it had fallen across her cheek, she blinks her eyes open, letting out a gasp when she sees me.

“Sasha,” she sobs, reaching for me.

I pick her up and pull her against me, holding her as she cries against my neck.

“I’m here,lisichka. Everything’s okay.”

She sobs harder, her whole body shaking, and it breaks my fucking heart.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper against her ear. “I’m so sorry, baby. I got home as soon as I could.”

“Are you okay?” she says, her voice raw and shaky. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, baby. I’m fine. There was just an unavoidable delay before I could get started, and I couldn’t leave until it was done.”

She clutches me tighter and presses her face against my neck, breathing me in and convincing herself that I’m really here. Her hands run over me, quickly skirting over my gun and knives, wanting to touch only me to make sure I’m okay. When she’s satisfied, she touches the hose coming out from my jacket.

“It’s from the water pack I have strapped to my back.”

“Nifty,” she says, making me laugh despite how terrified I’d just been.

She presses the palm of her hand against my cheek and draws me closer, and as soon as our lips meet, everything else disappears. All the worries and fears, the job I just completed, it all falls away, and all that’s left is a raw, primal need to be inside her. Her fingers are already busy undoing my pants when I slip my jacket off and then start to pull her pajama bottoms down, taking her panties with them.

She lets out a frustrated groan when she can’t get my cock out fast enough thanks to the extra layer of thermal underwear I’m wearing. I take over, freeing my dick and then groaning when she immediately straddles me. Gripping her hips, I slowly lower her onto me, watching her lips part in a gasp. She wraps her arms around me, cupping the back of my head and bringing her lips to mine as I slide her down the rest of the way until I’m deeply seated inside her. The soft, satisfied whimper she gives has me groaning against her lips, so fucking hungry for more.

“Use my cock,lisichka. Take your pleasure, sweetheart.”

She doesn’t make me ask twice. The feel of her hips moving beneath my hands as she rocks and grinds against me has me growling and digging my fingers in even harder. I give her bottom lip a soft bite before kissing my way down her neck, the scent of her making me groan after missing her so badly. Needing to feel her skin, I roughly yank her shirt off before resting my hand firmly against her back and pulling her toward me as I run my tongue over one of her taut, rosy-red nipples.

“Sasha,” she moans, working her hips harder.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

I let my teeth graze her nipple before giving her a soft bite. I kiss and lick first one breast and then the other until she’s throwing her head back and moaning my name as she clenches even tighter around me, threatening to take me with her. I just barely manage to resist the pull of her tight pussy, and as soon as she starts to come down, I roll us over so I’m on top. She wraps her arms and legs around me before sliding her hands under my shirts and up my back.

“Careful, baby. I still have all my weapons on.”


Tags: Sonja Grey Romance