Page 25 of Run Little Killer
Harder than Nix's abs.
After trying and failing to plot an assassin's wet dream of a strategy, I let my mind and hands wander freely. Rhett's the taller of the two with his broad shoulders and thickeverything, while Nix is more lean, the ridges of his hard abs evident beneath his hoodie. My fingers started to get cold and his hoodie pocket wasright there, so of course I put my hands inside it. I didn't expect to find myself mindlessly tracing my fingers over his abs while wondering if he fucks as hard as he kisses, but here we are.
That kiss in the diner may have started as a distraction tactic, but by the end, I was clenching my thighs together in desperation. After the picture of my face disappeared from the TV screen, I practically had to peel myself away from him, then go splash cold water on my face to keep myself from dry humping his leg.
Rhett pulls into a parking spot in front of the motel, Nix steering in right beside him. He cuts the engine and climbs off, not even offering me a helping hand before stalking off toward a thicket of trees while shouting, "Gotta pee." My body’s still thrumming from the vibration of the motorcycle, skin warm and prickly like static is moving beneath the surface as I slide down.
"You okay here while I go get us a room?" Rhett asks ashe climbs off his own bike, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.
"Yeah," I yawn, extending my arms up above my head in a stretch.
Tugging down his black bandana, Rhett dips his chin and heads towards the front door, grey duct tape haphazardly holding the cracked glass together.
I fold forward at the waist, fingertips grazing my toes as I continue stretching. Every inch of my body is sore, unaccustomed to spending hours on the back of a motorcycle. Here’s hoping my exhaustion is enough to stave off the nightmares.
"That's a view I could get used to," Nix murmurs as he prowls up behind me, boots scuffing against the concrete.
"Stop staring at my ass," I say with a sigh as I straighten, pivoting in his direction and settling my hands on my hips. "Perv."
"Perv?" he chuckles, closing the distance between us.
His spicy, masculine scent invades my senses, the heat of his body threatening to suffocate as he grips my chin. The pad of his thumb traces my lower lip as he says, "Don't feel me up on a ride unless you're going to finish me."
I swallow roughly, heat pooling between my thighs as I meet his gaze. A sickly sweet threat lingers in his deep brown eyes. A promise to chase me, to ruin me, to fully consume me.
Parting my lips, I slowly suck the tip of his thumb into my mouth. The taste of nicotine and leather hits my tongue, dark and enticing like unbridled sin. I tempt the devil before me, testing the little restraint he has and pulling him in deeper.
His brows crease, the veins and muscles of his forearms flexing as his fingers curl tighter beneath my chin. I releasehis digit with a loud pop, lips curling into a smug smirk. "Dream on, dickhead."
His face splits in a grin, eyes alight with wicked intent.
"Room nine," Rhett barks out, the deep timbre of his voice breaking up our staring contest.
"First dibs on the shower," I call out as I push past Nix, suddenly absurdly flustered, fumbling to undo the buckles on the saddle bag and retrieve my clothes.
"They gave us coupons for the bar we passed, wanna grab dinner and a drink first?" Rhett asks, pulling out his duffle.
"Unless that coupon is for the tetanus shot I'd need after stepping into that bar, I'll pass," I scoff.
"Well, shit, surprised you don't get a nose bleed from how high those standards are," Nix remarks, re-fastening the saddle bag.
"Can't we just order something to the room and relax?" I groan.
Rhett cocks a brow at Nix, a silent conversation passing between them.
The truth is, I'd love to go to a bar right now. I’d love to have a drink, eat something fried, and feel some semblance of normalcy, like I could before my life was severed in two. There's two versions of me– who I was before that night, and who I am now.
ThebeforeLennon was in her junior year of college, spending weekends with friends, loud music, and midnight drives with the windows down. My only responsibilities were making sure to get to school and work on time.
Then there's me now.
Lennon Spencer, the girl no one believed. The crazy girl who wound up in an asylum, isolated, forgotten, shamefully cast away. The murderer, the escapee, thethreat to public safety. I hope that someday there will be anafterfor me, a point where I'm notthisversion, either. Maybe a little less broken and a little more at peace. But for now, avoiding public places like the diner or bars is in my best interest.
"Pizza up to your standards, darlin'?" Rhett asks, twirling the room key around his finger.
"If I had standards, I wouldn't be hanging out with you two, would I?” I quip as I snatch the keyring from him and start towards the room, calling out over my shoulder. "And I want ham and pineapple on my pizza!"
"Shouldn'tyou kennel that bitch tonight?" Nix spits as I pull back the floral quilt and slip beneath the sheet. “She’s a fucking hazard to society.”
