Page 39 of Slaying for Santa
I normally like a bit of exhibitionism, but that usually involves me naked and a dick or two, but this… kissing… it feels so intimate.
There are some hoots and hollers as Kit’s lips brush mine. It’s not a sexy kiss with tongue, but it’s a kiss with care, reminding me how insistent he was this morning about telling Tillie about us.
Us.
Bloody hell. There is no us. It was one night. An epic night. But after Christmas, I’ll be flying back to Melbourne, and he’ll keep doing his mercenary stuff while raising his daughter.
Shit. Libi.
Kit pulls back suddenly like he’s just thought the same thing, and the next second he’s barking orders to his men as they follow him back into the kitchen and trashed dining room.
Whiplash. That’s what this feels like.
I hover around the fringes of their heated debates, cleaning up here and there, listening to them argue about what to do.
They don’t have a location on Snake, but they know hefrequents the Cronulla clubs, and every scenario they come up with ends up being too risky, because Snake is always surrounded by his Serpent crew.
It’s clear to me that there’s only one thing to do, and it doesn’t involve the Red Belly Team at all.
Ineed to find this gang leader myself.
They don’t call me The Seduction Slayer for nothing.
CHAPTER 12
BELL
The problemwith it being this close to Christmas is that the streets of Greater Sydney are jam-packed with last-minute gift shoppers, who are also consuming the ride-shares.
It took me forty-five minutes to get a car, and I was worried it would rock up right when Kit and his men arrived back at the house.
They went on an intel mission or something. But their absence gave me time to doll myself up and get my head in the zone while I reached out to some of my contacts to help me better pinpoint Snake’s location.
Dion Abraham has been the leader of the Serpents for over five years. He got to the top by shooting his predecessor in the back of the head because he didn’t like the way things were being run.
That alone explains this guy’s mentality, and the fact he has Libi, who must be so fucking terrified right now, means we are walking a fine line. He could snap and hurt or kill Libi at any time. That’s why I have to do this. For Libi. For Kit and Tillie. And for Snake’s next innocent victim.
I usually spend weeks doing recon on a target. Learningtheir habits and routines. But there’s no time for that now. I need to infiltrate this Serpent gang, get close to their leader, and get to Libi.
As my ride slows in traffic, I lift my tits in my dress, so my nipples are nearly falling out. I don’t have a bra on. In my experience, the outline of an erect nipple is hard for a man to dismiss, and I need whatever men I come across on this mission to go all gah-gah and think with their dicks.
Honestly, I feel a little sorry for them. They won’t even see me coming.
The waterfront comes into view, people walking the streets in groups, laughing with friends or work colleagues as pink paints the sky.
Just like Melbourne, there are a lot of Christmas parties happening, some people already staggering, wearing off-centre Christmas party hats and tinsel leis.
I get dropped off along the main stretch, going into the first bar I see. It’s already bustling with all the pre-Christmas celebrations, so I move to the bar and order myself a mocktail, sipping on it as I assess the crowd for what sort of girl I need to be in here.
I can’t just be myself. Bell Bishop typically scares people away. But I’ve learned how to act in these situations, taking on a role to get close to people.
There are a lot of bubbly princesses in here, comparing their Christmas nails as they dance by their tables, not yet drunk enough to veer out onto the dance floor.
The men in here are all predictable. They eye anything with a set of tits. Thankfully, the air-con in here is up high, and my nipples are on high beam, making my piercings even more noticeable.
Spotting some guys with a Serpent tattoo weaving up their arms, I lift my mocktail and slip off the stool, dancing as Iwalk past, doing a fake little stagger before falling into one of the thugs.
“Ooopsss. Ssorrry.” I giggle like an idiot, and the three guys who were ogling a couple of blondes at the next table turn their attention to me.
