Page 36 of Run Little Killer
"Or what?" she challenges, placing her empty cup to the side as I step into her space.
My palms splay out on the workbench on either side of her hips, bracketing her thighs as I step between her legs. I drop my head, murmuring, "Then I'll have to punish you, darlin'."
Her breath hitches, plush lips parting in the slightest, and a half-feral craving I haven't felt for years overcomes me. My mouth crashes against hers, hard and fast like a strike to flint, sparks blazing through my body.
I need to be closer, need to feel her in my arms, make sure she won't disappear.
Gripping her ass, I pull her in tight against me and she lets out a breathy sigh, body giving into my touch as I hold her flush against the growing bulge in my jeans and deepenthe kiss.
Our teeth and tongues clash, her arms looping around my neck. Our mouths slide in fevered movements and I devour her like a man starved. Her legs wrap around my waist, her warm center grinding against my thickening cock. I buck my hips, her nails digging into my flesh as we dry hump the shit out of each other.
This isn't soft or sweet– it's raw and demanding, chemical even. Like when that first bump of coke hits your system, it doesn't ask permission to rip through and rewire your brain, it just consumes you. She needs to feel protected, and I need to be the reason she does. It's not just want anymore, it's wiring. It's how we fit.
Nix clears his throat to get our attention. "Not that I wouldn't love to rub one out right now, but between build-a-creep and closet Kurt, I feel like we should be focusing on cleaning up one mess before starting another."
Reluctantly, I break the kiss, our ragged breaths mingling between us as I rest my forehead against hers for a split second. With a resigned sigh, I let her go and pivot on a heel, walking back towards what's left of the corpse.
Bloody chunks of fat and muscle splat against the concrete as Nix and I work together to put the torso in the drum, then the arms and legs. We arrange the pieces, bending and twisting them until they all fit snugly inside. Then Nix strips out of his sullied navy jumpsuit, shoving it into the drum, too.
"Can I help?" Lennon asks, lips still swollen from our kiss as she hops down from the workbench.
"Sure, now that the hard work is done, you offer," Nix teases.
"You don't have to," I say as my phone vibrates against my thigh.
"It was my fault though," she starts, a solemn tone to her voice. "If I-"
"Fuck that shit," Nix cuts in. "None of this is your fault, little killer."
"Okay," Lennon murmurs softly. Her grey eyes instantly dull. She pins her bottom lip between her teeth, wringing her hands in front of her.
I want to go to her, reassure her that this douche's actions weren’t her fault, and neither was me killing him. But like Nix reminded me, business comes first– and my phone vibrating with another text reinforces that point.
"Go get Kurt from the closet and find some cleaning supplies and shit," I instruct Nix, wiping my hands off on the front of my jeans and pulling out my phone.
"Come on little killer, you can help me with that," he says, striding across the garage and slinging an arm around her shoulders.
After what just transpired between us, I'd expect even the tiniest flare of jealousy to hit me at the way she tucks into his side, but it doesn't. Instead, I feel relieved to see those two not at each other’s throats for once.
Heaving a sigh, I glance down at my phone to see two new messages.
Mav
New driver will be there at 9 tomorrow morning.
Ghost and Harlan and a couple prospects are on their way with a truck.
Me
How'd you know we'd need a truck?
Mav
I've seen Hawthorne's workbefore.
Me
Fair. We'll be ready for them.
