Page 14 of Assassin's Prey
Abby clamped down hard around me.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.The words were a chant in my brain, my ears, and I followed their command to the letter. Every heavy, hasty thrust caught Abby’s clit between our pelvic bones. Every suck and bite of her breast pushed her higher. Within a minute she was fisting my cock in another climax, nearly taking me over the edge with her.
Not yet. If the only thing I could give her was oblivion, then I’d do it right.
Only when she’d come twice more, her sweaty body collapsing beneath me, her eyes barely able to open, did I let myself go. One more thrust, two, and my cock spasmed hard in her wet depths, giving her everything I had to give.
When I could breathe again, I left the bed. Abby murmured a sleepy protest as I wiped her down with a cool washcloth, but otherwise she stayed asleep. After I’d cleaned myself up, I eased into the bed and pulled her onto my chest.
And there, in the darkness with Abby’s scent surrounding me, her body warm and relaxed and satisfied against mine, I made myself a promise.
I was an assassin. I was ruthless. I wasn’t going to give up the only woman who’d ever mattered to me, whether she wanted to walk away or not.
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Chapter Seven
Abby was still sleeping when I slipped out of bed the next day. I’d lain beside her for a long time, watching her breathe, ready to slay dragons even if they appeared only in her sleep. When she didn’t stir, I decided to conquer some real-world dragons instead.
Eli was busy at the computer, fingers flying as he stared down the screen like it was the enemy. Remi stood at the stove in the kitchen area, frying bacon. His bared chest left the scars from the gunshot that had almost killed him on full display, and like always, a well of nausea rose at the reminder. I’d almost lost my brother. I’d always believed we were damn near invincible until the day that sniper’s shot had landed. Now I doubled down on never putting anyone in harm’s way but me.
In the kitchen I retrieved a coffee cup and poured some. Black and almost strong enough to stand on its own—perfect. A few sips and I was ready to tackle business.
“What have we got, Eli?”
“Some interesting things.” Eli spun his chair around and headed for the kitchen.
I gritted my teeth, wondering for the hundredth time how I could be related to someone so laid-back most of the time. “Like?”
Picking up a piece of bacon from the tray where Remi was depositing them as they finished, Eli held it thoughtfully in the air. “Like, we actually have even less on the van at Abby’s than we got on the motorcycle in town. If we can’t be close enough to follow, we aren’t going to find these guys that way.”
I cursed against the rim of my cup.
“We know they can’t be local,” Remi said, emphasizing the point with the tongs in his hand. “Word would’ve leaked somehow. So who do we know that’s good enough to hide themselves that well when they aren’t in their hometown?”
“I can think of a few US-based groups,” I said. “The problem is narrowing it down to a specific group without being able to see their faces.”
“Which I might have been able to do,” Eli mumbled around a mouthful of bacon.
I snagged a couple of crispy strips off the tray as Remi switched from bacon to frying eggs. We all knew how to cook, but Remi was the best, hands down. “How?”
Eli moved to the fridge and began taking out juice and condiments. “Like you said, only certain groups are good enough to get away with this. My feelers in the southeastern US were getting me nowhere, so I started looking at other major cities where suspected groups were located. Turns out Rathlin’s posse in DC has gone quiet over the last two days.”
“They could be anywhere, including out of the country,” Remi pointed out.
“True.” The timer on the oven went off, and Eli pulled out a tray of biscuits. “I did look at more groups in the US, but they’re the only one that appears to be a possibility. Plus…”
I grabbed a stack of plates from the cabinet. “Spit it out, dickhead. I’m tired of fishing.”
Eli chuckled. “But stringing you along is so fun.”
I glared his way, refusing to pass over the plates when he reached for them.
“Fine, fine. I did some analysis on the footage of the cyclist from yesterday. It seems likely that bike was driven by a woman.”
I narrowed my eyes as Remi took the plates from my hands. “I don’t know any major player with a woman on the team except—”
“Rathlin,” we all said together.
