Lure (A Hitman's Bait 1)

“She deserves to be spoiled.”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head back, and I kissed him. His lips were soft, candy sweet from his lip gloss and minty from his mouthwash. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and tightened my grip on him. Kissing him was becoming a favorite hobby of mine, his lips my poison of choice.

I grunted as claws sank into my shoulder. Cinnamon had climbed from Kit onto me. I placed a hand on her back to support her weight, since her balance was off with her right front leg missing, and stepped back from Kit.

“See what you’ve done?”

“Oh, come on, you love her, and you know it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Wait. Not that I don’t adore seeing the little gal so soon, but why did you bring her?” He took back Cinnamon and brushed her tail. “Does this mean…”

“It shouldn’t take more than two days.” I stroked his cheek. “It’ll be over before you know it, and Liam will check up on you. Plus, if—”

“Sully, it’s okay.” He smiled. “I’ll worry, but I understand.”

Could he be any more adorable? This boy was shaping up to be tougher than I’d thought, and I liked it as much as I liked the soft parts of him too.

“When I get back, we’ll talk.” I kissed his cheek. “But for now, let’s go to that club so you can be my pussycat.”

His cheeks flushed. “You make it sound so dirty.”

“I know you like to get off when you’re pretending to be a cat, so there’s that.”

“You let a guy give you a hand job when you’re a cat, and suddenly he thinks he’s the pussy whisperer.” He stuck his tongue at me and winked, then walked off with Cinnamon. “Let me get her all set up for the night, and then we can go.”

“Aren’t you going to take off your coat?” I asked. He had on fishnet stockings under a soft pink coat that hung down to his knees. Whatever he had on beneath was short enough that I didn’t even get a peek, but if his laced-up boots were anything to go by, he was going to blow my mind when he finally shed the coat.

“When we’re at the club,” he said. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“At least tell me you have something on, other than the stockings, under that coat, Kit.”

He disappeared without answering me.

“Kit!”

“It’s a surprise!”

I groaned and went after him. Apparently, he was setting me up to hurt someone tonight.

He sent me to the car to bring the rest of the cat stuff I’d brought over—Cinnamon’s toys, food, and litter box.

“I think we’ll need two sets of stuff for her,” he said as he poured cat foot and water into the respective bowls. “So we don’t have to keep moving her things back and forth every time you’re out of town.”

Or you can just move in with me.

Woah, where had that come from? Luckily, I hadn’t spoken it out loud. It would have been cruel to have to tell him I didn’t mean it. Did I?

When Cinnamon was all set with her toys and bed, Kit asked me for another ten minutes.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

It took him twenty minutes, but every second had been worth it.

He’d used the time to make up his face. Around his eyes were penciled black lines with gray and white, artfully applied. His eyelashes were longer, his cheeks smoother. Three strokes of whiskers adorned each cheek, and a smattering of freckles dotted the makeup that turned his nostrils pink. His lipstick matched the color, as did his favorite kitty ears he had on.

“Let’s go.” He walked over to Cinnamon and bent over, giving me a peek of the pink fluffy tail that peeked out from under his coat.

It took everything out of me not to pull off the coat to see exactly what he had on beneath.