Page 23 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Hitman

“I thought you and Wyatt had a thing.” Dean trails kisses up my throat, and I shiver and arch up to meet him. “Didn’t want to fuck everything up. Not if you had already picked your twin.”

My hands burrow into his hair, clutching him closer to my throat—like I never want another single inch between us ever again. “But Wyatt is—”

“I know.”

“You didn’t realize back then?”

“No.” Teeth scrape my earlobe, and a pleased shudder rolls through my whole body from head to toe. “I was doing my teenage rebel thing, remember? My head was too far up my ass to see much else.”

Ha. I pet his hair. “Well, you were always the twin I wanted. Even when you were clueless.”

Dean raises his head and looks me in the eye. He frowns, like he’s trying to judge whether my words are really true. “Yeah? You sure about that, sweetheart?”

Duh. But he still doubts that he’s my first choice? Still feels like maybe I wanted Wyatt, but I settled for second best? An identical version of the man I wanted but couldn’t have?

Oh, hell no.

My legs hook around Dean’s waist, bringing our bodies flush together, and I smush my boobs into his chest. Let him feel the excitedthump, thump, thumpof my heart, and the desperate way I crave his touch; the damp heat between my legs and the flush on my skin. Can’t fake that.

“Does this feel like I wish you were someone else?” I demand, snatching his wrist and pressing Dean’s palm against my chest. My heartbeat thunders beneath his touch, and goosebumps prickle across my bare skin. “Does this seem like I’m only half into this?”

Throat tight, I drag his hand all the way down my front—down to where I’m slick and needy and desperate. Dean cups my pussy through my pants, then lets out a pained, animal groan at the humid heat seeping through my clothes.

“No.” He laughs weakly, rubbing a thumb against the seam of my pants. My hips twitch, and I moan and chase his touch. “Fuck, Annie. You’re too perfect. This is like a dream.”

God, I know what he means, because I don’t know which way is up right now. Couldn’t point at the floor or ceiling. All I know isDean, his heat and strength and hunger, and the possessive way he’s touching me, claiming me, exploring his territory. All while letting the perfect amount of his weight pin me down to the mattress.

Not so much that I can’t breathe or move.

But enough that I’m secure. Held in place.

“You’re like a sexy weighted blanket,” I say.

Dean pauses in pulling my zipper down. “What?”

“Never mind.”

I’ll explain later. Right now, I need his fingers inside me.

The bed rocks as Dean undresses me—pants first, then camisole, then panties and bra. Fuzzy socks last.

“Is that a kink?” I ask as Dean climbs off the bed just long enough to shuck the rest of his own clothes. “Are you a fuzzy sock guy?”

He snorts, crawling back on top of me. “If you’re the one wearing ‘em, maybe. Mostly I just didn’t want your feet to get cold.”

Getting cold is the last thing on my mind right now. The air in this small bedroom is warm and electric, and once we lock together once again, bare skin to bare skin, I’m freaking feverish.

Can’t think properly. Can’t make sense. All I can do is cling and arch up and kiss Dean Kinnear over and over and over. Thehit man groans against my lips, sliding our tongues together—and he sounds as wrecked as I feel.

“Do it,” I say at last, breaking away and panting. “Fuck me, Dean. Please.”

And he nods, hazy-eyed, but then starts kissing a tingly path down my body.

“Wait, what are you—oh.” I cut off as a hot mouth seals around one nipple, sucking until my whole back bows off the mattress, my belly twisting impossibly tighter. Every gentle pull of his mouth makes my pussy clamp down on nothing. “Dean, I—Dean.”

He switches sides, merciless. I yank and twist on his hair, but it achieves nothing.

On and on he tortures me, first suckling on my nipples and then kissing down the rest of my front, pausing to dip his tongue into my belly button. By the time Dean shoulders his way between my thighs, I’m already trembling on a knife’s edge. Hyper-sensitive and yet still so needy.

---