Read Online Hitman's Secret Baby: A Bad Boy Romance by McKenzie Lewis - Free Book Online
Authors: McKenzie Lewis
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wanting nothing more than to see her lose her mind.
I realized that whatever she needed, I was prepared to give her—nonstop pleasure, a constant stream of apologies, all the honesty I can muster. For a man as selfish as myself, the thought was frightening.
“Mason,” Taryn said, and I looked at her, buried in her up to my knuckles.
“I’m gonna make you come like this,” I promised roughly, shattering the concern in her eyes for unbridled want .
She moaned again, tipping her head back and leaning back against the countertop with her palms keeping her steady, and I renewed my efforts to get her off, flicking the pad of my thumb across her clit as I fucked her.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the line of her bared throat or the rapid inhale-exhale of her chest, the sweat starting to pool in the dip between her collarbones and the damp gasp of her mouth.
She tightened around me, her muscles starting to flutter, and as she began to shake, straining to come, I ducked down and buried my head underneath the tiny skirt, sucking the tight bundle of nerves into my mouth.
“Oh my—” They were the only words she seemed capable of as her orgasm hit her, and then she simply groaned, spilling liquid from her pussy over my fingers and jerking against my mouth.
I stayed on her until she relaxed, and then I stood with a smirk, slipping my hand free from her.
“Think anybody saw?” I drawled.
Taryn laughed, wisps of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. “I seriously hope not.”
In my jeans, my cock strained for her. Her eyes raked down my body, zeroing in on the bulge between my legs.
“But just in case,” she said, hopping down off the counter and heading for the light switch.
She plunged the diner into darkness, only the streetlamp on the opposite sidewalk bathing the place in faint, ashy light.
Burnt out—gray and crumbling down—
Taryn stepped so easily back into my embrace, like she’d never left it.
Except she had. Sixteen and pregnant and all alone, the smell of burning still toxic in my nose for days. It had to be done, because I could see blood on the counter, on the table, on the linoleum—
“Mason?”
In the dark, the blood looked like a pool of shining black. Like oil. I felt bile rise in my throat, a scream tearing at my lungs, my mother—
The sudden overhead lights blinded me and Taryn was bright in front of my face. “Mason!”
I took a deep, shuddering breath and looked around. No blood, no fire, no ash. My hands were shaking; God , I felt like an idiot. I felt queasy. It was like waking up from one of my bad dreams, only I wasn’t sleeping. Ten seconds before I was hard and eager to sink into Taryn’s hot body, but my cock had lost all interest.
“I’m okay,” I quickly assured her, leaning against the counter.
“I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Taryn,” I snapped. “Don’t treat me like a traumatized fucking kid, all right?”
She held her hands up. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine, really.”
I wasn’t, and I didn’t even know why. All the things I’d done and a goddamn diner had defeated me, left me trembling and sick to my stomach. Maybe it came down to simple math: meticulous killing, I was good at; losing myself in sex, I was fucking great at; dealing with my internal emotional bullshit, and I became about as useful as a table with no legs.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Taryn said lightly.
“Well, I am.”
She kept watching me, the scrutiny torturous, and I thought about leaving, getting away from it. It was what I did—left. It was easier than dealing with the fallout.
I found myself unable to move, though. The need to stay with her was stronger than the urge to flee.
“Look,” I said reasonably, trying to get that damn scrutiny off me. “Let’s just get outta here. Go and do something else.”
Taryn raised her eyebrows. “Like a… date?”
I scoffed, realizing that—yeah, I’d basically just asked her on a date. “If you wanna put
I realized that whatever she needed, I was prepared to give her—nonstop pleasure, a constant stream of apologies, all the honesty I can muster. For a man as selfish as myself, the thought was frightening.
“Mason,” Taryn said, and I looked at her, buried in her up to my knuckles.
“I’m gonna make you come like this,” I promised roughly, shattering the concern in her eyes for unbridled want .
She moaned again, tipping her head back and leaning back against the countertop with her palms keeping her steady, and I renewed my efforts to get her off, flicking the pad of my thumb across her clit as I fucked her.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the line of her bared throat or the rapid inhale-exhale of her chest, the sweat starting to pool in the dip between her collarbones and the damp gasp of her mouth.
She tightened around me, her muscles starting to flutter, and as she began to shake, straining to come, I ducked down and buried my head underneath the tiny skirt, sucking the tight bundle of nerves into my mouth.
“Oh my—” They were the only words she seemed capable of as her orgasm hit her, and then she simply groaned, spilling liquid from her pussy over my fingers and jerking against my mouth.
I stayed on her until she relaxed, and then I stood with a smirk, slipping my hand free from her.
“Think anybody saw?” I drawled.
Taryn laughed, wisps of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. “I seriously hope not.”
In my jeans, my cock strained for her. Her eyes raked down my body, zeroing in on the bulge between my legs.
“But just in case,” she said, hopping down off the counter and heading for the light switch.
She plunged the diner into darkness, only the streetlamp on the opposite sidewalk bathing the place in faint, ashy light.
Burnt out—gray and crumbling down—
Taryn stepped so easily back into my embrace, like she’d never left it.
Except she had. Sixteen and pregnant and all alone, the smell of burning still toxic in my nose for days. It had to be done, because I could see blood on the counter, on the table, on the linoleum—
“Mason?”
In the dark, the blood looked like a pool of shining black. Like oil. I felt bile rise in my throat, a scream tearing at my lungs, my mother—
The sudden overhead lights blinded me and Taryn was bright in front of my face. “Mason!”
I took a deep, shuddering breath and looked around. No blood, no fire, no ash. My hands were shaking; God , I felt like an idiot. I felt queasy. It was like waking up from one of my bad dreams, only I wasn’t sleeping. Ten seconds before I was hard and eager to sink into Taryn’s hot body, but my cock had lost all interest.
“I’m okay,” I quickly assured her, leaning against the counter.
“I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Taryn,” I snapped. “Don’t treat me like a traumatized fucking kid, all right?”
She held her hands up. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine, really.”
I wasn’t, and I didn’t even know why. All the things I’d done and a goddamn diner had defeated me, left me trembling and sick to my stomach. Maybe it came down to simple math: meticulous killing, I was good at; losing myself in sex, I was fucking great at; dealing with my internal emotional bullshit, and I became about as useful as a table with no legs.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Taryn said lightly.
“Well, I am.”
She kept watching me, the scrutiny torturous, and I thought about leaving, getting away from it. It was what I did—left. It was easier than dealing with the fallout.
I found myself unable to move, though. The need to stay with her was stronger than the urge to flee.
“Look,” I said reasonably, trying to get that damn scrutiny off me. “Let’s just get outta here. Go and do something else.”
Taryn raised her eyebrows. “Like a… date?”
I scoffed, realizing that—yeah, I’d basically just asked her on a date. “If you wanna put
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