Page 30 of One Kill

With one forearm holding his weight right beside my head, he brings his other one to cup my cheek as he fucks me in earnest. In and out, fast, deep, full of need like no other. My thighs spread even wider, my hips meeting him thrust for thrust as he grunts every time the head of his dick connects with my deepest, darkest trigger. My breath hitches, my back arching into him as his fingers dig deeper into my cheek, almost to the point of pain.

I welcome it, I crave it, even, and he gives me everything I need and want.

“Jordyn.” It’s only one word.

My name.

He said my name and that’s as close as he could ever get to saying he loves me.

“Murphy.”

It’s all we need to fall into the abyss. His cum fills me up in violent spurts and frantic thrusts. The sound of slippery, slapping skin is all I can hear besides our breaths coming in long and deep as we try so fucking hard not make any noise.

But it’s okay, we don’t need anything more than this.

This moment.

This perfect, unviolated moment of bliss. We give this gift to each other because in the morning, reality will drop on us like a fucking bomb drops from a drone.

Stealthy and deadly.

Chapter Fourteen

J

“That’sweird.Nothingatall?” Marco leans back in his leather chair, running his fingers over the dark stubble on his chin.

“No. Glitch is still on it, but so far, Mr. Wright seems to be a bit of a ghost. Meaning his connections to Zavier are currently unknown. We do know that Mr. Wright has been in the casino every Monday and Friday, without fail, since it opened—according to the CCTV footage Glitch found. Shoo’s been trying to tail him outside of the casino, but for an old dude, he’s a slippery fucker.” I sip the whiskey Marco handed me when we came into his office, sitting on the couch in the corner of the room. Usually, I’d stand; opting to get straight to business then leave when I’m done, but today, I’m tired.

I’m drained.

Inside, I’m a fucking wreck, if I’m honest with myself. Murphy’s been calling and texting non-stop since I left in the early hours of yesterday morning and I’ve texted Hallie some bullshit excuse about work keeping me busy.

“I have no doubt that you and your Reapers will figure something out soon, J. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Yeah. Meanwhile, I’ll be heading there in a few hours, see if I can’t work my magic.” I sigh, sipping at my glass of whiskey again. The burn as it slides down my throat is bliss, but I can’t indulge fully. I need to keep my headspace sharp—or as sharp as it can be with my emotions running rampant.

The pitter patter of tiny paws sounds from the hall and I know this conversation is about to come to an end. Because where Polo goes, River goes, so she’ll no doubt be following close behind the little pomeranian.

“I should go.” I move to stand just as Polo runs into the room and jumps up onto my knees, having a good sniff and wagging his tail, hoping for some attention. Stroking under his chin, I chuckle at the persistent pooch.

“Looks like someone wants you to stay.” River’s soft tone reaches my ears as she enters the office, heading straight over to sit on Marco’s lap. She looks over her shoulder and kisses his cheek before setting her gaze on me. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes narrow and she raises a knowing brow. It’s impossible to keep secrets from this woman. Like she has a sixth sense to anything abnormal.

“Nothing. I’m good. Just about to leave, got a job.” Ruffling Polo’s fur on his head, I do actually stand this time, reaching to grab my helmet from the floor by my feet.

River purses her lips and her eyes narrow further, and I know she doesn’t believe me, but I’m hoping she drops it. She’s aware that I’m not exactly the “sharing is caring” kinda woman.

“Catch ya later, Boss.” I tip my head to Marco, then focus on River, giving her an acknowledging nod also. “River.”

I knew it was too good to be true; just as I’m out of the room and reaching for the front door, the pattering feet on the marble floor are followed by the soft tones of River Fox-Mancini’s voice.

“J, hold up.”

Internally, and okay, externally too, I roll my eyes and turn to face my boss’s wife. We all know she’s the one that really runs the show these days. Without her, Marco would be fucked. She’s the heart of the entire fucking New York mafia and none of us would have it any other way.

“What’s up, Riv?”

“I think you should be answering that question, not me. Your vibes and your aura are all off kilter, J. Talk to me.” She bends down to lift Polo into her arms, tickling the fur on his tiny head and looking at me with concern in her sparkling green eyes.

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