Page 6 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

“Obviously not,” he quickly adds, but his cheeks are growing redder by the second. “I don’t even know you.”

“Well, I know you.” I lean in, playfully nipping his chin with my teeth. “Like the back of my hand, I know you.”

“How? And, why?” When I refuse to answer, his eyes narrow. “Answer the question, Abi.”

Fee sucks in a sharp breath, and when our gazes lock, her mouth hangs open. “You let him call you Abi?—”

“Do not say that name,” I growl, not taking my eyes away from Tatum. The name sounds wrong coming from her. It isn’thers to say. With anyone else, it feels like nails piercing my eardrums. It brings back memories of my mother’s lifeless eyes. Of my father staring down at me in disgust. The twist of the blade as I took his life. An eye for an eye.

I cannot wallow in the past, not when I’ve got the future resting in my arms. Though it pains me to do so, I set him down on his feet and remove my finger from his hole. He clenches his cheeks to keep me in, and I realize, whether he knows or not, his body is already treating my finger like it’s an extension of himself. It’s as if it knows I belong inside him, and it will do whatever it takes to keep me there. I slide back into him, slowly gliding back and forth as he falls against my chest and writhes in my arms. Seconds tick by before he finally takes a step away from me.

There’s a recliner in the corner of Scotty’s apartment, and I point to it. “Would you like to sit on my lap?”

“Why the hell would I want to sit in your lap?” he asks, shaking his head. The question must bring him back to reality, because gone is the love-drunk man from moments before. “Stop trying to distract me with sexy games and that ridiculous accent. No, I don’t want to sit on your lap. What I would like is for you to die. If you’re unwilling to do so, I’d like for you to explain what’s going on. I’ve already told you I don’t know where they went.”

Fee rolls her eyes. “Do it, Kincaid.”

I know what she’s asking of me, but I cannot. I do not want to take pieces of this man unless he gives them willingly. The syringe is there, on the floor. All I would have to do is bend over and pick it up, and we’d have the answers we need... but I won’t. There’s a connection forming between us, and I don’t want to ruin the progress we’ve made by drugging him with our agency’s version of truth serum. Granted, it’s simply diphenhydramine mixed with a few rare herbs, but I will not drug him without his consent.

“Sit with me, Tatum,” I suggest instead, taking his hand andguiding him to the recliner. Once I’m seated, I tug until he’s in my lap, and I wrap a protective arm around his waist. In my lap, Tatum shifts, trying to get comfortable. The action makes my dick swell, and he must feel it, because his eyes blow wide.

“Is that . . . ?”

I flash a smile, slowly rocking my hips, grinding against him. “That is my cock. He is very happy to make your acquaintance.”

He makes a sound like he’s choking before quickly darting his eyes away. “Liar. That’s way too big to be a penis.”

I grind against him again, wanting him to feel every centimeter of my manhood. “As I said, it’s twelve inches. Do you think you can take it?”

“Fuck off, liar.” His cheeks are crimson, and he’s looking everywhere in the room except at me. It isn’t lost on me how he arches back as if he wants to feel more of me. Changing the subject, he darts his eyes between Fee and myself. “What was she talking about? What does she want you to do to me?”

“I’m in the room, you know. You could just ask me directly.”

His eyes remain locked on mine. “Answer the question, Abi.”

My professional career relies on half-truths and omissions, but I cannot do that with him. I refuse. “I gather you already know the man who took Scotty is a hitman, correct?” I start. Though Tatum doesn’t answer, he does nod. Good. I’m glad he’s being somewhat forthcoming. “His name is Brody. He’s Fiona’s husband and my best friend. We’re coworkers. He was hired to kill your friend, but they ran off instead. The people who want Scotty dead aren’t happy. Our lives are in danger, and the only way out of this is to bring Brody home.” I don’t tell him his friend’s death will be necessary for this to work in our favor, though I’m sure the implication is there.

“So, you’re just friends?” he asks, pointing at Fee, then at me. Funny this is where his mind goes. I’ve just told him I’m a trained assassin on the hunt for his best friend. My girlfriend has told him she plans to hurt that friend. Instead of worrying over Scotty’s fate, he concerns himself with my love life. Interesting.

I swallow, shaking my head. “We are something of an item. Brody and Fiona have an open marriage.” Not wanting to dwell on that fact, I try to shift his focus to the matter at hand. “I am only asking you to tell me what you know. Fiona would like me to drug you, but I do not wish to do that. I just need to know if you have any idea where they might be.”

Fee stands, her eyes locked on something on the floor. At first, I assume she’s going to give us a moment alone so I might find out what he knows. It’s a hypothesis that proves incorrect when she bends over, grabs the discarded syringe, approaches, and jams the needle into Tatum’s neck.

“Fiona!” I scream, only stopping myself when I see the fear in Tatum’s eyes.

“Oh, my God,” he whispers. “Abi?”

Rage doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. He looks so fucking terrified right now. “Oh, Pretty Baby. No. Don’t be afraid. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“She stabbed me,” he says in disbelief, reaching for his neck. I watch as Fee plunges the cocktail into his bloodstream, and I know whatever fear he’s feeling at this moment is about to increase tenfold. I’ve only felt the serum’s effects once, but once was enough to last me a lifetime. “She’s just stabbed me.”

“She hasn’t,” I insist. “She only gave you a shot.”

This does nothing to ease his worry. “She drugged me? You let her fucking drug me? What was in it? Is it cyanide? Have I been poisoned?” His grip around me tightens as he clings to me for dear life. I swear to God, if it wasn’t for my personal code of honor, I would kill Fee right now. Tatum is terrified. “I don’t want to die.”

I touch his cheek and force the warmest smile I can manage. “You aren’t dying, I swear. She’s injected you with a truth serum, for lack of a better word. It’s a way of easing out the things you want to keep hidden. I want you to look at me, alright?” I wait for him to focus on me and nod. He’s shaking, and I can’t stand to see him this way. So I do the only thing I can think of to puthim at ease. I dip my fingers past his crack and gently slide my finger into his hole, thrusting it back and forth slowly.

“Scared,” he whispers. Now that the serum is in his blood, he can no longer lie to me. He’s the type to hoard his feelings, saving them for a rainy day. With that no longer being an option, he’s left at my mercy. His life is essentially in my hands, and he’s frightened.

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