Page 31 of Run Little Killer
My thumb swipes through the blood on her cheek, her muscles tensing as I trace over the scar. She starts to pull back, but I don't let her, my thumb and forefinger pinching her chin to hold her in place. "Don't hide from me."
I lean down, lips skimming the column of her neck,pressing a gentle kiss to the cut and pausing by her ear. "There isn't an inch of you that doesn't make me hard."
Her throat bobs with a swallow as I suck her ear lobe into my mouth, teeth scraping across her skin. She sighs, her rigid spine relaxing more and more as I pepper kisses down to her collarbone.
"Rhett..." she rasps, arching her neck to give me better access.
“Yeah?” I murmur, sliding my hand beneath the hem of her bloodstained shirt. We’ll have to get her another.
“Shit, this is bad," Kurt mumbles from behind me. Nix is quick to shut him up.
I haven’t forgotten about either of them or the two hundred and fifty pounds of problem laying dead at my feet. But I saw how easy Lennon was to forget her nightmare the other night, and I’m choosing to take care of my girl before business. Fuck the consequences.
Soft mewls vibrate from her throat as I push up her bra and palm her tit. Her hands trail across my biceps, coming to rest on my shoulders as she pulls me closer. She moans, tossing her head back when I pinch her nipple and roll it between my fingers.
“Keep making those sounds, darlin’, and the first time I fuck you senseless will be in a dirty ass bathroom next to a corpse,” I growl.
14
NIX
My cock strains against my zipper as I watch Lennon molding her body against Rhetts. The scared and panicked look melts from her features, replaced with one of raw desire.
Rhett's good like that– reading people, knowing what they need. Hell, if he didn't sponsor my ass when I was a prospect, I'd probably never have been patched in.
I roll the handle of the hunting knife between my fingers, fresh blood trickling down my hand as the motion flexes open the cut. It's nothing– a glorified paper cut– and I'd gladly take it ten times over if it meant keeping Lennon unharmed.
"Shit, this is bad," Kurt mumbles, running a hand through his dark hair.
Shit, I forgot about him.
He's right, this is a mess. Not only is this load now without a driver, but Mav's buddy is down a guy altogether. Rhett popped his neck harder than a virgin’s dick at a strip club. Which is a faster death than I'd have given him. My little killer put up a fight and had him right on the path tohell, blood from dozens of puncture wounds still oozing out onto the tile.
"I've got to call–"
"No one," I finish Kurt's sentence, jabbing my hand forward with practiced precision, the blood-coated tip of the blade digging into the hollow spot beneath his Adams apple just enough to break the skin.
"No one," Kurt repeats back, all the color draining from his face as a rivulet of blood blossoms to the surface.
"Right," I say, retracting my hand and making a spinning motion with the blade. "Let's go chat."
He nods, turning and leaving the bathroom with me right on his heels. I sweep my eyes around the garage until I spot a utility closet in the back corner.It’ll do. Slipping the knife into my belt, I clamp my hand down on the back of Kurt’s neck, guiding him toward it.
"Uh, what are you doing?" he asks, the slight waver in his voice betraying his fear.
"Making sure you don't run your mouth," I grumble.
"Gonna off me in my own shop?" he laughs nervously.
"We'll see," I deadpan.
Twisting the handle, I pull open the closet door, immediately met with the smell of old mop water and mildew. A dingy yellow mop bucket is shoved in the corner, the mop handle leaning against metal shelves filled with random cleaning supplies and light bulbs.
"Phone," I demand, holding out my hand.
"What? I- I won't tell anyone if that's what you worried about. I don't want cops sniffing around my place."
I wiggle the fingers of my waiting palm, the ones around his neck digging harder into the sides of it until his knees start to buckle.
