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  “All’s I did was give this doofus your message. He shouldn’t have let you outta his sight in the first place.” Vic’s gaze bounced from Ursula to Jace. “What’s up with you two?” He stared at Jace. “You look almost happy. You feelin’ okay?”

  “Never better.” He pulled her into his embrace and tipped his head in the direction of his boat. “We have some fish to catch.”

  Vic chuckled. “That what they’re calling it these days? Well it’s about time you two came to your senses…” Vic waved his hand and continued his grumbling rant as he hobbled back to the marina.

  Jace stepped onto the cruiser and encircled his hands around her waist as she joined him. Tucking a curl behind her ear, he cupped her cheek and brushed a soft kiss to her lips. “I was such an ass.”

  She pinned him with her stare. “Yeah, you were. But I need to know where we stand now.”

  “I can’t answer that.” As soon as it left his mouth, he knew he dove right back into ass status.

  She lifted her brows, assessing him with her gaze for a long moment until she led him into the cabin and closed the door. “I call bullshit, Jace. I know there’s something more to us. If you don’t want to face it, that’s fine. But I won’t be your fuck partner. If that’s what you’re looking for, keep on looking.”

  “Urs. I can’t give you what you deserve. I can’t be that person.”

  Disappointment flickered over her expression and she wrapped her arms around her chest. “That’s where you’re wrong. I know the man you could be if you’d soften your edge. I know what we could be if you’d let it happen. Why can’t you see it, too?”

  He leaned a hand on the wall and rubbed his eyes with the other. “My edge keeps us alive.”

  “Your edge keeps you from living,” she said in barely a whisper.

  Her gaze moved to the door and he figured he had about a minute or less to make things right or she’d leave forever. He had no choice. He was forced to bring to life the memory that haunted his dreams. Jace slumped onto the cushioned bench. “I never told you how I got into the business.”

  She shrugged. “How is that relevant?”

  “You’ll understand when I tell you. Just hear me out. After I’m done you can leave if you want to.”

  Ursula moved to his side and sank into the cushion, pulling her knees into her chest. “I’m listening.”

  “My brother brought me into the business. Luke took me under his wing and taught me everything I know.”

  “You never mentioned you have a brother.”

  “Had. He was killed during a hit.” He hung his head and lowered his voice. “He died while saving me.” He paused as she whispered an I’m sorry and covered his hand with hers. Jace continued. “I was posing as a delivery driver and drove the target to the edge of a park where Luke would complete the hit. We didn’t know our online communication channel was hacked and we had a surprise waiting for us. Luke saw a sniper with his rifle pointed at me. He moved from his intended target and took out the shooter. The guy who was our target spotted Luke, drew his gun, and shot. I tried to get to the guy before he could get off a shot, but I was too late. He turned his gun on me, but I got him first. Within a couple seconds, it was over. Luke was dead and it was my fault.”

  “Jeez, Jace. It wasn’t your fault. He saved you.”

  Jace nodded. “He protected me instead of himself.”

  “And you would’ve done the same.”

  “I wish it could’ve been me. He didn’t deserve to die.”

  “And neither did you. It’s a dangerous business. You know that more than anyone. And Luke knew it, too. This explains why you’re against using digital devices but it doesn’t explain why you won’t give us a chance.”

  “I’ve never wanted anyone in my life. Never thought I needed anyone. But when I thought I’d lost you, it all changed. Nothing else mattered more than finding you. But what scares me more than letting you walk away from me is having you with me.”

  Ursula squeezed his hand. “Let me ask you a question. Who saved who today?”

  “I saved—”

  She raised her palm interrupting Jace. “Before you say something to piss me off, think about it. Who saved who?” she repeated.

  He recalled the events that happened over the past few hours. “I guess we saved each other.”

  “Good answer. You’re not as much of a doofus as Vic thinks. My point is if we weren’t attuned to each other, we probably would both be dead right now.” She turned to face him and hooked her index finger under his chin, tipping his face up to meet her gaze. “We rescued each other.”

  He pulled her onto his lap and cupped her face in his palms. “If anything ever happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “Nothing will. We’re stronger together than apart.”

  Her words prompted the question bugging him all day. “You said you had another job offer. Who were you going to work for?” he asked, searching her eyes.

  A slow smile grew on her lips. “There was no other job. I said it to piss you off.” She raised her brow. “Mission accomplished.”

  Relief, followed by need, rolled through him as he closed the gap between them. The heat of her body enveloped him as his tongue brushed her lips, coaxing a sweet moan from her throat. His erection pushed hungrily against his fly as her hips teased a slow circle on his lap. His fingers trailed up her ribs, taking her shirt along. She was like a beacon, guiding him closer to her fire. Her shirt floated to the floor as she yanked his over his head. The warmth of their skin mingled into one and he didn’t know where she ended and he began. He needed to possess her fully and completely, almost as much as he needed to breathe.

  Encircling her hips, he tried to drag her to the cushion, but she braced her legs and shot him a sexy smile. “You made me wait. I’m going to do the same to you.” She slid from his lap so her elbows rested on his knees. “But don’t worry, I think you’re going to like the wait.” Her fingers trailed to his waist and undid his button and fly. He groaned as she dipped her hand inside. His gaze raked over her as she freed his cock from his pants and her tongue dragged circles around the tip. Jace leaned back and widened his parted legs, giving her more access. Shit, he’d do a split if it would keep her doing that crazy thing with her tongue. Her eyes flicked to his and she took him fully into her mouth. Her glistening lips wrapped around his dick while she captured his stare was the sexiest vision he’d ever witnessed in his life.

  He palmed her hollowed cheeks, guiding her movement, while her gaze stayed trained on him. A whimpered sigh broke the silence as she sucked and licked her way around his cock. The sound almost sent him over the edge. He raked his fingers through her hair and pulled gently. “Baby, if you keep that up you’ll set me off like some high school kid during his first time. Come here.” He pulled her back to his lap. “Are you done torturing me?”

  She arched her brow. “I’ve only begun.”

  “Now it’s my turn. You’ve put me through hell over the past three years. All those times I watched you seduce other men from the scope of my rifle. When they touched you here…” he brushed the back of his fingers along her side. “And they kissed you here…” Ursula tilted her head as he pulled her hair back and trailed his tongue from her ear to the bottom of her neck where her pulse met his lips. “I wanted it to be me.”

  He pulled away and met her glistening eyes. “It’s all I ever wanted,” she said and brushed her lips along his mouth as she reached back and unhooked her bra. Jace palmed the curve of her breast and she arched as his tongue trailed circles around her nipples. “Fuck, Jace, don’t make me wait. I need you inside me now.”

  He hoisted her into his arms and carried her to the sleeping quarters, grabbing a condom from the bathroom along the way. Ursula wiggled out of her shorts and panties as he stripped. He ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled it on his length before climbing over her heated flesh. He braced his arms on either side of her body, claiming her mouth with his. Desire cou
rsed through his veins as her legs wrapped around him and he thrust deep inside with a low groan. He tipped his forehead to hers, capturing her gaze as he glided in and out of the nirvana of her core. Ursula closed her eyes. “Please. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” She dug her nails into the flesh of his back, pulling him close. His edge melted as he pumped everything he had into her sweet sex, leaving nothing. It was hard and gritty, and so fucking amazing.

  “I’ll never stop loving you, Urs. We’re in this thing together.” And they were. He never thought he’d need anyone in his life, but at that moment he knew what he’d been missing. She let light into his heart and made him human. She was the piece that made him whole. She moaned soft and sweet in his ear, his new favorite sounds, as they tumbled off the edge of oblivion together.

  The End

  www.evernightpublishing.com/sandra-bunino

  THE HITMAN’S SEDUCTION

  Olivia Starke

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Hannah Stephens clutched her balled-up uniform jacket to her shoulder. The initial shocking pain of the bullet wound had dulled beneath an adrenaline dump. She forced her breathing to slow as she gazed between the dense growth of tree trunks, searching for signs of movement. Shadows shifted, a cruel tease that heightened her already erratic heartbeat. Take it easy, Hannah, you’ve been in tight spots in the past. Which was the truth; a county deputy for the past three years, she’d been shot once before during a traffic stop by a tweaked-out dopehead.

  But this was the first time she’d been the target of a hired hitman.

  A hitman she’d naively slept with just a week before. The stranger had been gorgeous and British, appearing from nowhere, and keenly interested in her—a sheriff’s deputy from Tulsa County, Oklahoma. She snorted at her own stupidity.

  She took a deep breath, gulping air into her burning lungs. Her fatigued legs wobbled, and she braced against a tree. She’d lost a lot of blood, and when she peeled the jacket away from her shoulder, the coppery tang of blood loss hit her in a nauseating wave. She clamped her teeth together and gripped her Smith & Wesson M&P 9, cursing the fact she’d gone without her bulletproof vest. Another stupid move, one she was paying dearly for. Not that a vest would’ve stopped the high-powered rifle round from ripping a hole through her.

  She didn’t need to check the pistol clip to know how many rounds she had left. She’d developed the compulsive habit of counting her shots at the gun range.

  She had exactly one bullet left, and absolutely nothing left inside of her to keep running.

  Now flight had to give over to fight, and Hannah strained her ears as she heard the snap of a twig. Instinct told her it was her pursuer and oddly, it wasn’t fear she felt, but relief. Finally, she could get this whole goddamn nightmare done with. The last several minutes danced across her memory—her partner crumpling onto the dirt trail next to their patrol SUV. The whiz and clink of another bullet hitting the hood. It had ricocheted, striking Hannah in the shoulder, taking out the handheld radio transceiver she had clipped there. Hannah had crouched then fled into the dense growth of forest. She’d hunkered in behind an oak and fired back in the general direction of the gunman. A firefight ensued, using up her two backup pistol clips as well.

  She and her partner had been lured out to the middle of nowhere on the report of an abandoned car on an access road in the state park. Please, be okay, Mike. She hadn’t even had a chance to check on her partner’s welfare, he could be bleeding to death, or worse. But in fleeing she’d hoped to draw the fire away from him, after all, the hitman was on her tail.

  When she’d put two and two together, it’d been easy to figure out who he was, and seeing the abandoned Ford sedan only confirmed it. She’d spent the last three years cracking down on members of the Irish Mob who’d gotten a toehold in, of all places, the city of Tulsa. She’d made it her mission to make their lives as uncomfortable as possible by patrolling their neighborhoods, giving out traffic violations, and generally making their life hell. Her county didn’t need their drugs and violence. She’d grown up in the city of Tulsa, and after graduating college in Missouri had moved back to join the sheriff’s department.

  “I know you’re out there,” she called out to her pursuer. “I bet you didn’t think I was clever enough to figure out who you were.”

  She heard an ominous click that sounded like a clip chamber being loaded. She couldn’t judge exactly where the sound came from as the trees stirred in the breeze. Calm settled over her, startling against the frantic minutes she had just spent. Perhaps this is how a deer feels once it’s run down by the wolf.

  “I mean, come on, a handsome, cultured guy from England, who are you trying to be, James Bond? A little cliché, don’t ya think?” She gave a short laugh. “I know who hired you. I know you’re here to take me out. And by the way, you weren’t even that good in bed.”

  She waited, seeing if her baiting would do the trick. A fuzzy mist clung to her mind, making it hard to focus and think straight. It wasn’t long before she heard the crunching of leaves. Then he appeared—tall, broad shouldered, an imposing figure dressed in camouflage. He towered over her five-foot-eight frame and had a rifle slung over his shoulder, a Glock 18 in his lowered hand, and a long hunting knife strapped to his thigh. Armed to the teeth against little ol’ her, she felt satisfaction with that. He might have had an easy time getting her into bed, but at least he’d known she’d be much harder to kill.

  She kept her own sidearm down, waiting for just the right moment to aim and squeeze the trigger.

  His piercing blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of shaded, wraparound Oakley sunglasses. His sensual lips pulled up in a cocky grin before he said, “Not good in bed? I have a hard time believing the last part, love. That weekend with you is one of the best weekends I’ve ever had with a lover.”

  The low rumble of his voice caused heat to spread over her skin, an unsettling juxtaposition to the cold fear spreading within her. He seemed so casual, a perfect sociopath as he faced off with a woman he’d been hired to kill. But she kept herself in check, mirroring his coolness.

  “I never said I wasn’t any good,” she countered.

  He laughed and the sound bounced through the trees. She stared at his face, but kept his Glock in her peripheral sight. Her vision blurred, and she blinked, the blood loss catching up to her. Should she survive this standoff, she doubted if she had enough energy reserves to make it back to the SUV to radio for help. It seemed she was doomed to die in this damn forest.

  “That’s what I like about you American women, you’re blunt. None of that stuffy, beating around the bush BS when it comes to fucking.”

  She couldn’t help but wince. Fucking. Hearing it come from his lips, being reminded of what it had actually been to him, was a slap to the face. Because, deep down, she’d felt something else that weekend. She squeezed her eyes shut, giving in to the moment of weakness in both her soul and her failing body. Regardless of how many perps you’ve gotten off the streets, you’ll always be a naïve girl from Tulsa, Oklahoma, Hannah.

  “Give it up and give me the gun. You’re bleeding to death, love. Your fight is done.”

  His deep baritone voice had a gentleness that shocked her eyes open. She’d been sliding down the tree trunk, and she clawed at the bark behind her, desperate to stay on her feet. If she had to die today, she’d do it on her feet. The fuzziness in her mind had expanded, clouding her vision, leaving everything around her more like a lucid dream than reality.

  Then his head shifted slightly to the left. “And though I’ve greatly enjoyed our time together, I think it’s time to end this.”

  He whipped his gun up, angling sideways in the same moment she dropped low, swinging her own sidearm around. The sounds of both their firearms going off blasted through the quiet forest. Hannah sucked in a hard breath, renewed pain lancing through her as she collapsed. She heard the hitman’s voice, he was shouting, though his words made no sense, her ears we
re ringing too loud. She felt cold damp leaf litter beneath her as she curled into the fetal position. This is it, her body told her, there is nothing left.

  The hitman kneeled next to her, pushed her onto her back. His sunglasses were gone, his piercing blue eyes vivid against the darkening world. He clutched his side, she saw the stain of blood tingeing his shirt. Her one last bullet had done damage.

  Good.

  And then in one big, overwhelming rush, there was nothing at all.

  Chapter Two

  Three weeks before.

  “I’ve one for you.”

  Davis MacDonagh took a moment to inhale the salty morning breeze before he moved his mobile phone to his other ear. “Price?” he asked.

  “Easy, well worth the fee,” the familiar voice said in a thick Irish brogue.

  “I’m listening,” Davis said.

  He took in the details spoken in rapid Gaelic, committing them to memory, before the call ended and he stuffed his mobile back in his pocket. Rain clouds clung to the morning horizon, but another peaceful day loomed before him. Tortola was a beautiful island nestled amongst the British Virgin Islands. He’d settled here to find refuge. An elusive peace of mind he had yet to find, because he had little choice but to answer when it came to those fucking phone calls.

  It took him a couple of minutes to grab his already-packed duffel bags. Then he was off to the private airport to board the Gulfstream G650ER which would take him to his destination. An obnoxious piece of aircraft always at his beck-and-call. Though he was a wealthy man, the jet wasn’t his, and it only served as a reminder of who owned him. The Mob na hÉireann called him many things—cold-blooded, ruthless, reliable—and he made sure they had reason to fear him. But in the end he owed them a debt of lifelong service as their most valuable hitman.