Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“And you’re almost my perfect version of a rainy day.”
“Almost?” I slide a finger in her hungry, sopping cunt. The other encircles her clit. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
I catch Luxury’s moan with my mouth. Pumping into her, I growl. “Now?”
A wicked smile plays on her lips. My finger curves stroking the spot that will soon have her screaming with need. Feathery lashes immediately flutter downward to cover her eyes as a second finger slams into the dark pool at her core. Her head falls back, and my face drops between her lovely tits. “Now, Lux?”
“No, you call me Little . . . oh fuck . . . oh shit, right there. Right there!”
With a cocksure grin, I pull out, tapping my wet finger to my mouth.
“Vic!” Fresh agony descends around Luxury, and her lovely, freckled cheeks puff out.
Licking my finger, I add, “Tastes like you were on the verge of cumming.”
She grips the lapel of my blazer. “Fuck me, or I’ll murder you, Victor.”
Beneath a weak streetlamp, I unzip my trousers, tossing Luxury’s thigh over my shoulder. I pull her panties to the side and slam balls deep into her lovely cunt.
“Best day ever, Little One?”
With her tongue swirling over my neck, Luxury bites down. “Best day? That's more ambitious than best rainy day, don’t you think?”
I grip her other hip, removing her arse from the side of the bench. I stand up, taking on a wide-legged stance, sliding her around my hips.
At this point, Luxury’s gander tracks from a darkened, bridged area across a slope of grass to where a bunch of trees veils the main boulevard. “This is soooo bad. We’re screwing in the park.”
“We’re simply placating that ravenous cunt of yours,” I grunt, arms flexed, pumping her up and down. “Cum, Little One. I’ll take you home. Get us off.”
Her pant skates across my jaw. “Please cum with me, Vic.”
“Cum with you, Little One?” I bite out, containing the desire to release.
“Oh shit, oh . . .” Her greedy cunt attempts to milk my cock. I slam her against the lamp post. I search her face for any signs of pain. Gentle hands grip my neck, pulling my mouth down. As I’m descending over Luxury’s lips, the air shifts, turning dark, sinister, with the sharp note of impending death.
I slide the silk of her dress down her thighs, remove her from my dick, and zip up.
“Vic, why did you? Oh, crap.” Voice shuddering, Luxury’s widened eyes land on the male and female jogging past midnight. Although her dress is at a respectable level, she apprehensively tugs the hem. “Did they see us?”
“Yes.” They’re clad in dark sweat suits—ample compartments for weapons.
“We should hide.”
“Never.”
As they approach, I place them at approximately five-five each. The bloke, Jackson, whose assignments I snatched away, shared a few tips with me and I with him. As snipers, we’ve an advantage like no other. Jackson said he’d seen these two eons ago—a husband and wife duo—the same ones Fuyoung mentioned. Assuming the gutter snipes haven’t ascended the hierarchy at X-Member, taking their own assignments like Jackson and I, then their respective heights and genders, and my fucking gut feeling marks them as a threat.
Jackson nipped the wife’s ear, which I see as they come closer. The same bullet pierced his mark between the eyes. If I’m correct, they appeared harmless until the very last second.
My eyes connect with the husband’s razor-sharp gaze. Instantly, my hand drops to my waistband. Bollocks. I left my gun in the glove compartment because of security when entering the nightclub.
“Victor, let’s go.”
As Luxury mentions indecent exposure, I disregard her. The bloke’s less than three to four yards away, sprinting at full speed. At the last second, he retrieves the weapon from his hoodie. Sidestepping Luxury, I throw a sharp jab, knuckles crushing the jogger’s nasal cavity.
“Victor!” Luxury stumbles back in her heels.
Gripping the man’s jaw, I twist his neck.
The wife startles, eyes scrape over her husband. While he falls, I apprehend the gun from the back of his waistband. The wife’s roundhouse kick lifts, narrowly missing my chest. I place two bullets into her skull.
38
LUXURY
For the last couple of days, I awaited Victor’s call. Unmotivated by everyday life, I lay in my bed, coiled in depression. Unable to move.
My world crashed to a halt, having revolved around Dr. Victor Finch since I first set eyes on him. In school, I never saw myself waiting around for a man. Hell, I never dreamed I’d get the bouquet of roses. Or passionate kisses, which elicited goose pimples across my flesh. The fire in his eyes as his gaze fell over my skin—the magnetic touch. I never thought myself worthy of these things.
Man, his touch incinerates my body from the inside out. Hands that have remedied every hurt I ever felt, Victor’s hands, are now a precursor of pain.