Page 62 of Lovely Venom
I lick the sides, loving the combined flavor we left on his skin.
While cleaning him, I stare up at him. “That bullshit praise won’t work on me,” I lie like a cheap rug.
Connor lets go of my hair and steps back. His length hangs thickly between his muscular thighs. His hands wrap around my upper arms as he pulls me to my feet. Not that we’re at eye level, he’s at least six inches taller than I am.
He stands there naked, breathing heavily, looking very much like the monster who tortures people in that tunnel below us.
He takes my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping the last of his release from my chin. “You are something else,Raina Riatt,” he groans, a mixture of wonder and concern in his voice.
“Too bad I still have to kill you.”
“Stay the night with me,” his invitation breaks from the back of his throat. The way a dying man asks for water.
“Can’t. There’s a group of outraged people that I have to convince you overpowered me before I could kill you.” Unless I say he never showed up.
“Let me talk to them.” Connor slides into a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips. “I seriously don’t know why anyone wants me dead other than Irish brats loyal to the old Keller regime.”
I open my mouth to retort something sarcastic, but let his confusion settle into my skin. How could a man who killed a mafia leader not know they’d send someone to take him out?
I clear my throat to cover up my second-guessing. “And what makes you think I’m not one of those old regime babes?”
“No respectable Irishman would send a lass as fine as you.”
“The man I work for wants you dead.” I start picking up my clothes. “For all I know, when I go back and say I failed, he might kill me.”
“Then fucking tell me who it is?” His voice booms, something cold scraping through me.
Heart pounding, I say, “It’s my father. So yeah, he probably won’t kill me.”
Which is true because he’s dead.
“Who is your father?”
“Mr. Riatt,” I tease. I can’t set Connor off on a murdering spree, guessing who sent me.
“That mouth is going to get you punished again.”
“Can I have my weapons, so I stand a fucking chanceif I do get in trouble?”
Connor shakes his head. “My assassin has them. You can pick them up in his apartment tomorrow.”
My throat goes dry. “You think I’m going to show up at your assassin’s apartment? He’ll kill me.”
Connor leaves the bedroom. Unsure what’s happening, I dress quickly. But Connor stomps back with a gun pointed right at my head.
I stagger back, dropping the T-shirt I was about to throw over my head. “Wait.”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. You’re more valuable to me alive.”
“Then give me my weapons!” I throw the T-shirt on in a fury.
“I don’t think we’re on the same page, Venom.” He watches me, smiling.
As soon as I figured out I had to kill Connor, the man who gave me the greatest night of my life, I wasn’t sure I could kill him. There’s something more going on here, and I worry this missing piece will die with him if he stops breathing.
“Where does your assassin live?” I ask, slipping on my boots.
With the gun tucked into the back of his sweats, he takes a pen from a decorative plate on his dresser. He writes something on a piece of paper.
