Contract Killer

They were filthy images, dirty thoughts. They had his cock hard, his arousal pumping through his body.

He shifted in his seat, his dick so fucking hard it ached. She started to move, and everything in him froze. She moaned slightly in her sleep, the gown slipping up her creamy thighs as she twisted in the seat, maybe having a bad dream as her face was pinched in what looked like worry.

He placed his hand on his crotch, pressing down on his shaft, the traitorous organ pulsing and aching.

You sick motherfucker.

After breathing out and trying to calm himself, Gage got out of the SUV, grabbed the bags, and made sure the doors were locked before leaving her sleeping in the back. At least he could give her a few more minutes of rest as he surveyed things.

Gage unlocked the motel room door, walked over to the lamp, and after turning it on checked out the place.

There was only one fucking bed in the room.

After checking out the front of the motel, and the highway that ran parallel to it, he closed the curtains. The truth was it was hard as hell keeping his arousal for Neeka in check. The moment he saw her on that table he’d felt something tighten in him, had this sense that she was his.

It was a fucked way of looking at it, thinking of her in that way, but Gage couldn’t help himself.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he focused on his mission. That was all this was.

It’s just a mission, an assignment.

Is it, though?

He went back to the SUV to get her, and opened the back door and stared down at Neeka. Gage didn’t mean to make a sound, but fucking hell, the groan came from him on its own as he looked at her. She was sprawled out on the back seat, his coat covering her upper body, her hospital gown high on her thighs.

Although blood covered her shin from the cut on her leg, she was fucking gorgeous. He spied her white panties, so pure and feminine that his cock gave a mighty jerk.

Get a damn grip.

“Neeka?” His voice sounded gravelly even to him. “Neeka, come on, we’re here.”

“Here?” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep, her eyes still closed.

Damn.

He loved that sound on her.

She turned onto her back, her legs opening slightly and giving him a prime shot of her panty-covered pussy. His pulse throbbed in his shaft as her gown twisted on her body. His jacket fell off of her and to the floor, and he could see the material of the gown mold to her chest, her nipples poking through the fabric.

His mouth went dry, his heart hammered against his ribs, and he cleared his throat, trying to distract himself.

“Neeka, come on,” he said a little more forcefully, angry with himself for how he felt.

“We’re here?”

“Yeah.”

She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes, and clearly oblivious to the way her gown was practically around her waist.

“You need to fix your gown,” he said with a thick as fuck voice.

She looked at him with a confused expression, and then glanced down at herself. “Oh, God,” she whispered and reached for his jacket on the floor of the SUV to cover herself up.

“Come on.” He held his hand out, looking down and noticing her battered legs and feet. His chest clenched with a feeling he wasn’t used to, or comfortable with. He scooped her up, kicked the car door shut with his foot, and made his way back toward the room. Gage slipped inside and shut the door.

He stood there for a moment, holding her as she rested her head against his shoulder.

“You smell so good, all woodsy and fresh.”

She spoke, her eyes still closed, her voice soft. She was so tiny, her body easily fitting in his arms and weighing nothing. Gage made sure she’d get more to eat, because no doubt she’d been in hell during these last couple of weeks. He set her on the bed, her eyes still closed even though she stayed upright.

“I’m so tired,” she murmured. “I need a bath, though.” Neeka slowly opened her eyes and stared up at him.

He nodded, going into the bathroom and running the water in the tub. He checked the temperature several times, turning it off when it was a little over half full, and then walked back into the room. A part of him wanted to be the one to bathe her, not for some sexual factor, or because he was a sick fuck, but because he wanted to give her that security, that comfort.

“It’s done filling up.”

She slowly stood, standing and then wincing as she made her way toward him. He was by her in the next instant, and picked her up, remembering her battered feet. Once in the bathroom he set her on the edge of the tub and turned to leave.