The Hitmans Baby - A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Novel - Kimberly Fox

Contents Copyright About The Hitman's Baby Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen

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Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Epilogue Bonus Book Copyright Other Titles in the Series Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Epilogue

The Hitman’s Baby By KIMBERLY FOX Sign up to Kimberly Fox’s exclusive newsletter to hear about new releases and to get exclusive content! Sign Up Here Connect on Facebook: Kimberly Fox on FB Connect on Twitter: @AuthorKimFox

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Do you like Paranormal Romance? Kimberly Fox has an extensive paranormal romance catalog that she writes under Kim Fox. Check out her PNR books here All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Please respect the author’s hard work and purchase a copy. Thanks! This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Contains explicit love scenes and adult language. 18+

www.AuthorKimberlyFox.com Copyright © 2016 by Kimberly Fox

Nobody f*cks harder than a girl that hates you. And this girl hates me. Hard. She’s going to be fun. Sara I hate guys like him. So why am I always so attracted to his frustratingly arrogant and cocky type? Well, his muscular, inked up arms aren’t helping at all. I should stay away from him. I should leave. He’s more dangerous than just a killer smile. But it’s not like he’d ever untie me and let me walk out the door… Colton

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When I want something I take it. Even if it is the boss’ daughter. And when you’re a hitman the boss is usually not someone to take lightly. See if I care. That pussy is worth dying for and it’s definitely worth killing for. And there’s a long line of people to kill for it. But now that my baby is in her belly not her father, the Russian mob, the police or the world class assassin on our heels is going to take her from me. The Hitman’s Baby is a full-length novel (50,000+ words) by author Kimberly Fox. Standalone. No Cliffhanger. No Cheating. HEA. Included in the ebook version is a bonus novella (Bare Knuckle Bear) and introduction to the author’s Paranormal Romance works written under Kim Fox.

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one Colton The barrel of my gun is burning my lower back as we get ready to leave the room. I love that stinging pain. It’s the feel of a job well done. And I have an army of burn marks back there from my extensive portfolio. Ichiro is checking the pulses of the dozen or so dead men in various positions around the room. He moves like a ninja over the bodies, touching their necks with two gloved fingers making sure we didn’t leave any loose ends. He checks the last guy, stands up, clicks the safety off the golden gun in his hand and fires one into the man’s head. He’s as emotionless as a machine. Ichiro turns to me with hard eyes. “That was your target,

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Colton,” he says, with a slight Japanese accent. He walks past me with a disapproving look on his face, bumping into my shoulder as he heads to the door. I squeeze my hand into a fist to stop it from grabbing my gun. I fucking hate this guy. We hurry down the hall and out of the warehouse where our cars are parked on the street. Sweet adrenaline is pumping from my chest to my thick, tattooed forearms and I can’t help but smile. Ichiro doesn’t share my enthusiasm, at least he doesn’t show it on his stoic face. Never a hint of emotion with this guy. I wouldn’t be surprised if I ripped off one of his arms and found metal and wires underneath. Ichiro, the Ninja Assassin, as he is known, looks like anything but a killer right now. He’s wearing twelve dollar beige slacks from Walmart and the matching six dollar

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white collared shirt. He pulls out a faded blue hat that has Marv’s Deli stitched onto it as we step onto the sidewalk. He could blend in anywhere. He can completely disappear into a crowd and look as memorable as a houseplant. “That’s the point,” he said one time when I made fun of him. “You’re too flashy.” I’m tall and muscular with inked up arms. My clothes are tight and tailored and show off my toned body. I stand out in a crowd and girls seem to love me, but fuck it, I’d rather get laid two or three times a week than blend in and look like a dork. Ichiro glances down at my leg and frowns before heading to his car: a completely forgettable nineteen ninety-nine brown Oldsmobile. “Shit,” I mutter as I look down at my pants. There’s a blood stain the size of a quarter on my thigh. It’s not much considering we just iced fourteen killers but still, I’m

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a professional, and Ichiro doesn’t have a spot on him. Fuck I hate that guy. I give the finger to his back as he gets in his car. I unlock the doors of my silver Porsche Carrera GT. It’s probably the least subtle car that I could get but it will always win in a car chase and chicks love it. I should have a meter on the dashboard next to the odometer counting how many blowjobs that I’ve had in here. I crank the keys in the ignition and get a little hard as the engine purrs, making my bucket seat vibrate. I’d make love to this car if I could fit my dick in the exhaust pipe. We drive out of the Russian Brotherhood’s side of town and back to our own. We take two cars because we hate each other more than we hate the Russian mobsters that we just killed. Ichiro thinks I’m reckless and dangerous. I think he’s a psychopath. I know that seems hypocritical coming from a

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hitman but Ichiro doesn’t just take out his target, he takes out the wife and kids too. I pull up to the boss’ place and leave the keys in the ignition. No need to take them out. It’s a four hundred thousand dollar car but everyone in this part of town knows who it belongs to. Sal is sitting on the roof of his Cadillac poking his phone with his fat fingers while he plows through a bucket of KFC. He looks up at me as I get out of my car. “How are those Russians doing?” he asks. “Extradited,” I say as Ichiro parks behind me. I pick up my pace and head to the front door of the boss’ mansion, wanting to give him the good news before Ichiro joins me. The boss’ house is sick. It’s made from the best materials on earth. Rare Italian marble floors, exotic Dalbergia wood stripped from the rainforests of Madagascar,

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gorgeous stone blocks poached from an ancient Tibetan temple. And he has the young wife in it to match. Daisy opens the door wearing nothing but a pink bikini with a see-through sarong that is so-right wrapped over her yoga perfected legs. I’m dying to see the tight, curvy ass that’s she hiding behind her. Boss’ wife. I have to remind myself. Off limits. I’m careful to keep my eyes up from her full, perky tits, even after she arches her back, tempting me to look at them. She’s holding a Piña Colada in her hand and already looks tipsy even though it’s early in the afternoon. Daisy slowly places the peach straw sticking out of her drink between her thick, luscious lips and bites down on it as she slowly looks me up and down. I wonder if she can see my cock hardening in my pants. She is a prime girl and fucking her may be worth getting a

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bullet in the head but I’m not willing to test that theory out today. “Hi Colton,” she says, flicking her blond hair back over her shoulder. Her mischievous eyes are up to no good. She knows what she’s doing. But she’s playing with fire. She’d have a bullet in her head just as quickly as me if we did whatever those fuck me eyes are suggesting. I look past her into the house, not trusting my weak willpower with a girl this hot. “Hi Daisy,” I say in the most professional voice that I can muster. “I need to talk to Carmen.” She leans on the door, pressing her juicy tits together with her arms. “You’re always here to see Carmen,” she says pouting like a schoolgirl. “When are you going to come here to see me?” The second Carmen is dead. He’s a decent boss and I don’t mind the guy, as

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irritable and strung out as he is, but I’d be here having a sex marathon with this girl inbetween the moment that he died and the fifteen minutes before we had to leave for his funeral. “It’s important,” a cold voice says behind me making me jump to the side, startled. Fucking Ninja Assassin. Daisy looks to Ichiro and steps to the side, hiding her luscious body behind the door. She lowers her eyes to the marble tiles that we’re standing on and opens the door for us without saying another word. The flirtatious Daisy is gone, replaced by a scared little girl. Ichiro has that effect on women. Another one of our many differences. I glance back over my shoulder as we walk in and grab a peek of her sculpted ass through her sheer sarong. I gulp as I picture my hands on those curves, spreading her cheeks apart before I dive in with my eager

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tongue. She seems to be reading my mind and gives me a wink and a sly smile before scampering off to squander her afternoon away by the pool. I snatch an apple off the granite counter as we pass the kitchen and take a few bites as we walk through the house and up the stairs to the boss’ office. I chuck the half eaten apple into a plant in the hallway before stepping in. Carmen is sitting behind his Tyrannosaurus Rex desk with his hand on his sweaty forehead as he listens on the phone. His other hand is squeezing a stress ball so tightly that his knuckles are as white as freshly cut blow. He’s almost bald, more from pulling out his hair than from his genes. He’s a thick, beefy old man who was known as the Arm and Hammer as he rose up the ranks of the underworld. Carmen was famous for breaking a guy’s arm in two places, letting him

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stew in agony for a bit and then breaking the bone one last time for a hat trick. He glances up at us and turns to the side. “Right,” he says into the phone, his voice tight. “I gotta go. The Ninja and the Headache are here.” The Headache? That must be me. I make a mental note to get a cool nickname too. Carmen hangs up the phone and pops three antacids as he looks us up and down. “Tell me it’s done.” Ichiro nods. “Thank God,” Carmen says, leaning back in his chair. He releases the squished stress ball onto his desk and it doesn’t rebound back to it’s normal shape as it’s supposed to. Even stress balls have their limitations. And Carmen is all about pushing limitations. “I have another job,” he says, motioning for me to close the door.

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I close it and we walk up to his desk. His white collar is stained yellow. I wonder why he buys thousand dollar shirts just to ruin them with his sweaty anxiety. But that’s a question for another day. He doesn’t look in the mood. He turns to Ichiro. “I got something important for you. I got word that the Russians are planning on going after my daughter.” He takes a deep breath and hisses it back out. “She’s studying law at Yale University. I need you to bring her back here.” Ichiro nods, his face as expressionless as a Samurai sword. “She’s not going to come willingly,” Carmen explains. “But I need her here. Yesterday. Understand me?” Ichiro nods. My heart starts pumping hard. There’s definitely a rivalry between the two of us for the number one hitman spot. It appears that

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Ichiro is currently in the lead and I’m a close second. Fuck that. “Send me boss,” I say, butting in. “I’ll bring her back safely.” “It’s not her safety that I’m worried about with you,” he answers, looking at me with narrow eyes. “What?” I ask showing my palms. “I want her hymen intact too,” he snaps, grabbing the crumpled stress ball off his desk and going to town on it. I swear I can hear it crying under his fingers. “Boss,” I say, not taking no for an answer. “She’s going to be terrified of this robot over here. I’ll bring her back safe and sound.” “Like the Bosco job?” he asks with his eyebrows raised. “And that time I asked you to straighten out that Mackenzie kid?” Some people just can’t let go of the past. “I completed both those jobs,” I say defensively.

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“The mayor is still on my ass for that Bosco fiasco,” he yells, his neck getting redder. “I still did the job,” I say. Carmen stands up and I close my eyes and wince, waiting for a punch. I open my right eye when it doesn’t come. He is hunched over with his fists on his desk like a gorilla, breathing heavily through his flared nostrils. “I’m sick of cleaning up your messes,” Carmen says, his voice tight and serious. “I don’t have time for this.” He shakes his head and turns back to Ichiro. “This is no time to fuck around. This is my little girl at stake here. The Russian Bratva is going to come after me where it hurts after what we did to them. I want her back here where I can see her.” He hands Ichiro an envelope with the details. Her address and picture are probably

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inside. Ichiro bows and leaves without saying a word. Fucking brown noser. “Boss,” I say, taking it as a personal slight. I can’t let the Ninja Ass win that easily. “That guy is a nut job. I’ll get her back for you and won’t traumatize her in the process.” Carmen collapses back in his chair, breathing a little easier now that Ichiro is on his way. “Do you have any idea how bad it would make me look if they took my daughter?” he asks. “I have to send my best guy. If I could send you both I would but you two would probably kill each other before you got on the highway.” “Only one of us would get killed,” I say, looking back through the open door. He tosses a yellow envelope on the desk with a thud and picks up the phone. “The mayor’s bonus is due. Go bring it to him.”

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“Send Reacher,” I say, ignoring all the warning signs to drop the subject. “Just give me a picture of your daughter and I’ll find her. You got the best hitman in the country that you can protect your daughter with and you’re sending me on errands? This is bull-“ “Get the fuck out of here!” Carmen screams. “-shit,” I whisper. “Now!” I snatch the envelope off the desk and head for the door. I can feel a stack of cash inside. “And get that fucking blood off your pants,” he yells as I turn the corner. My pulse is racing as I storm out of the house. I walk back to the car with my muscles tense and heat flushing through my body. I’ll go to my MMA gym after I’m done being a messenger boy for the mayor and fuck some young guys up. I need to hit something. I need to break someone.

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Ichiro flashes me a smirk before getting into his car and driving off. I crunch the envelope in my hand and clench my jaw as I watch his piece of shit car shrink down the road. Fuck that. He’s not winning. Not today anyways. I march over to where Sal is still sitting on the hood of his car, his eyes transfixed on his phone. He’s playing Candy Crush and getting increasingly pissed off with it. “This fucking game,” he says, squeezing his phone so hard that I expect it to explode into pieces any second. “I’m not paying another fucking dollar to pass the level,” he says, running his hand through his long greasy hair. “They make these impossible levels and then make you pay to pass them. They’re fucking crooks.” This coming from a guy who stole his own mother’s television to pay for coke.

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“Boss wants you to do a job,” I say handing him the envelope. “Give this to the mayor.” Sal slips the phone into his pocket and looks back at the mansion. “He didn’t say anything about this to me.” “He’s busy,” I say, shoving the envelope in his hand. He looks hesitant. Time to drive it home. “It sounds like you’re calling me a liar.” I step toward him and puff out my chest. He leans back, his eyes wide. “No Colt,” he says, trying to sound calm despite the level of his voice going up an octave. “Not at all.” I stare him down as he gets off the hood, climbs in his car and drives away like a good little messenger boy. My face breaks into a wide grin as I Google Yale University on my phone. Three hours away with traffic.

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It’s not the smartest thing to cross the most powerful man in town but I’m not going to sit in Carmen’s chair one day by playing it safe. It’s time to prove to Carmen once and for all who the number one man is. It’s time to get that girl.

two Sara “You didn’t have to pay for my lunch,” I say as I sit down at the table in the school cafeteria. I place my heavy backpack full of thick, boring textbooks on the empty chair next to me. “It’s my pleasure Sara,” Dave says, his cheeks flushing as he sits down in front of me. I poke at my quinoa and black bean salad with a plastic fork as I pull up the front of my shirt. I don’t want Dave getting the wrong idea about us, even though I’m a few weeks too late. “Are you ready for the exam?” he asks as he digs into his veggie stir-fry. A piece of rice doesn’t make it to his thin lips and lands

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on his flat chin, sticking to it like a dead bug on a car bumper. “I think so,” I say, pulling a fat textbook out of my bag: Advanced Environmental Law. The reading is as dry as my salad. “Well I know you’re going to do just great,” he says, smiling at me and holding my eyes to the point where it’s uncomfortable. “I hope so,” I say shifting in my seat. I look to the side at the energetic students talking and laughing all around me. This place is a boiling pot full of enthusiasm and excitement. These same idealistic, positive kids will be unrecognizable in a few years after the real world beats the passion and spirit out of them. I wish I had even an ounce of their spirit. But they want to be here in law school. I don’t. “Are you going to the party tonight?” Dave asks with a nervous swallow. His

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Adam’s apple bounces up and down in his throat like a fishing bobber. I get a slight shiver, knowing what’s coming next. I’ve been friends with Dave for the past year. He’s good to have around for help with homework and to study with but nothing more than that. We get along and share the same desire to help the poor and save the environment but there is no passion; no spark. At least not with me anyways. He drank too much gluten free beer at the Greenpeace rally last month and told me that he was in love with me. I played it off the next day like I was so drunk that I didn’t remember a thing. He left it at that but I knew he would try again. The renegade piece of rice falls from his chin back onto his plate as he leans forward, waiting for my answer. “Yeah I’m going with Rachel and her boyfriend,” I say nonchalantly. Time to change the subject before he suggests a

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double date. “Can you believe Mr. Vickers is only giving us a week to finish that assignment?” He exhales in defeat. “Yeah,” he says, moving his fork around his plate. The weird thing is that Dave would be perfect for me. He’s a nice, sweet guy who would treat me like a princess. He would never hurt me or raise his voice. We have all the same interests and I should be attracted to him. But I’m just not. We used to have so much fun together but it just got weird since he started laying on the weird, flirting vibe. Now it’s just awkward. I tell myself all of the time that looks don’t matter but I just can’t get past his skinny arms, flat chest, glasses, and ugly haircut. My body is drawn to muscles and tattoos even if my mind hates the type of guys that come attached with those characteristics. I’m attracted to a man that takes

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charge and doesn’t take any shit even though I hate aggression and don’t believe in violence. You see my problem? That’s why I haven’t had a boyfriend in years. We chat about homework while I quickly shovel down my food wanting to escape this awkwardness and get a bit more cramming done before my exam. I look away as Dave blows his nose into his napkin and drops it on his finished plate. His chair squeaks along the floor as he gets up. He anxiously grabs my empty tray, knocking over my bottle of Green Tea and spilling it on the table. “Oops,” he says as he throws some napkins on it, including the one that he just blew his nose with. “Sorry about that.” “That’s okay,” I say, looking down and trying to hide my red cheeks as eyes turn to us from all over the cafeteria. “I wasn’t going to finish that anyways.”

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We get the mess cleaned up and he insists on walking me to my exam. “So about that party tonight,” he says, not letting me off the hook. The classroom door is open and there are students already inside taking the fifteen minutes before class starts to do some last minute studying. “I’ll see you there,” I say slipping inside the classroom before he can ask me out. “Thanks for lunch.” I pray that he doesn’t follow me in and take a breath of relief when I turn and he isn’t there. I grab a seat next to my roommate Rachel whose bloodshot eyes are glazed over. I’d think she was high if I hadn’t been up all night with her studying for this thing. “Are you okay over there?” I ask. “If I look at another word my eyeballs will explode.” I understand her completely. “Dave was trying to ask me out again,” I say.

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“And?” I tell her about our lunch, leaving out the piece of rice stuck to his chin. “I don’t understand why you don’t just go out with him,” she says as she chews on her nails. “He’s a nice guy. He’ll treat you right.” The girl in front of us turns around and flashes us a nasty look. “It’s not a library,” Rachel says to her, rolling her eyes. “I’m just not attracted to him,” I say, leaning in and whispering. Rachel doesn’t get it. She has a nice boyfriend named Greg who is super thoughtful, intelligent and kind. He would do anything for her. I keep telling myself that Dave could be like that for me but I’m just not attracted to that kind of guy. “Why not?” she asks. “I wasn’t surrounded by those kind of guys growing up,” I answer.

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She raises an eyebrow, wanting more details. “I had a weird childhood,” I admit. “My dad wasn’t a soccer coach or the minivan driving type.” “What was he?” I hold my breath and hear my father’s stern voice in my head warning me: ‘Don’t trust anyone but family.’ “He was an accountant,” I say turning back to my desk. My purse buzzes and I look down to see who’s calling. Speak of the devil. Why does my dad always call me when I’m in class? What does he think I’m doing during the day? I shut off my phone and toss it back in my purse as the teacher walks in the room. Talking to my father always gets me in a bad mood. I am so against my dad and everything that he stands for, including his new wife, the one who was a grade older than

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me at my high school. Why can’t he just leave me alone? I was so happy to leave his house for University and finally live on my own. It was a nightmare living with him since my mom died in a car crash when I was twelve. I’m thinking of cutting him out of my life completely once I get my diploma. I just can’t go back to living my life under his dictatorship. The teacher rubs his hands together and grins like a villain in a Batman movie. “Who’s ready for a test?”

three Colton The last time I was on a University campus I killed a guy. My target was a janitor who liked to bet on sports with funds that he didn’t have. When I confronted him he bet that I was only bluffing. All that betting and all he won was a bullet in the head. I look up at the tall building in front of me. It looks like a medieval castle. There are kids everywhere. Their backpacks hang off their backs and shoulders like they’re filled with rocks. I look from building to building. From face to face. I don’t know where to start. I only have a name. No picture. No nothing.

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I grab the arm of an Indian kid walking past me. He jerks back and looks at me in shock through his thick glasses. “Do you know Sara Price?” I ask him. He shakes his head so hard that his glasses slide down his nose. I roll my eyes and let him scurry away. I grab the arm of the guy behind him. Probably a football player from the size and hardness of his thick arm. He’s the only one out here besides me who doesn’t have any books with him. “Do you know Sara Price?” I ask. The jock turns his cinder block head and looks down at my hand gripping his bicep with cold eyes. The corner of his lip curls up. He’s taller than me by about half a foot, which is saying a lot because I’m 6’2. He’s got at least fifty pounds on me and I’d bet the two thousand dollars in my wallet that he

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isn’t used to having anyone grab his arm like I just did. He rips his arm out of my grasp and steps up to me, giving me a look that would make any other guy on the campus wet his pants. He’s lucky that I have a job to do because I could drop him before he had a chance to take the steroid syringe out of his ass and raise his meaty fists. “Do you know Sara Price?” I ask again, getting pissed that I have to repeat myself. “No but I know your mother,” he grunts out in an ogre voice. Ugh. Jock humor. I walk away shaking my hands out and letting him off the hook. The guy has probably had more concussions than I’ve had pieces of ass, which is a lot. I’m feeling generous so I decide to not give him one more. Kids are studying everywhere. I thought college was about partying and getting laid. Everyone here is just reading books that look

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bigger than them. I’ve never understood studying. If you want something then just take it. Three hotties lying under a tree catch my eye. They whisper and giggle as they watch me walk over. They’re laying on their stomachs but they’re studying my arms more than the words in the open textbooks in front of them. The brunette in the middle licks her lips as I crouch down in front of them. She thinks I can’t see her eyes through her dark sunglasses but I can see them moving all over my body. “Hi ladies,” I say in my sexiest voice. Two just stare. One answers with a gulp. “Do any of you know a Sara Price?” I ask. “I can’t find her anywhere.” The middle one taps a pencil to her mouth and traces it across her bottom lip. If she’s subconsciously trying to make me

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picture my cock in place of the eraser than it’s working. “No, sorry,” she says shaking her head. She arches her back up and squeezes her elbows together, amplifying her cleavage for me. “Is she your girlfriend?” I appreciate the show and take a long, slow look at her tits. She’s smiling when my eyes finally come back up for air. “No,” I answer with a grin. “My little sister. I wanted to surprise her.” “Ahhh,” the three of them moan as if I just pulled out a puppy. The middle one tilts her head to the side and flings her brown hair back. “That’s so sweet.” I’m tempted to abandon the mission altogether and spend the rest of the late afternoon and evening sticking my dick in these three girls, alternating between their nine holes, but I have to find the boss’ daughter. I

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didn’t drive three hours all the way up here for a fuck. “Do you ladies know how I can find her?” “You can try Admissions,” the one on the right with the red hair and tight ass says. “And where’s that?” I ask, flashing her a smile. She giggles and turns as red as her hair before pointing at a blue door off the main building. The girl in the middle takes my hand and rubs my fingers. “You can always sleep over at my place if you don’t find her.” My cock hardens a bit as I picture her hand doing the same thing on my shaft. This girl is definitely down to fuck but I can’t get distracted now. I can’t let Ichiro win again. Not this time. I thank them and leave before I change my mind. Giggles erupt behind me and I hear one of them whisper, “I can’t believe

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that you did that Stacy!” and a “he must be gay.” It’s probably the first and last time that she’ll ever be turned down for sex. It pains me to do it but I’ll go get laid after the job is completed. Getting laid has never been a problem for me before. I walk into the blue door of the Admissions office and the auburn haired girl behind the counter perks up in her seat when she sees me. I jerk my head back and swallow hard when I see her image on the girl’s face. She has the same color hair. The color of autumn. A flash of a suppressed memory comes floating back into my mind. Olivia and I walking through an apple orchard. I was holding her hand and sipping on a hot apple cider while she rubbed her belly and whined that it had been months since she’d had a drink. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, forcing the memory back down out of my

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mind where it belongs. I’ve gotten good at quelling the memories of her but when they do creep back up it feels like a kick in the stomach. “Can I help you?” the girl asks. I smile as I walk over. I take a breath of relief when I reach the counter. The girl really doesn’t look anything like her. She’s missing the soft blue eyes and the cute, light freckles that dusted Olivia’s upper cheeks. Her hair is similar in color though. Similar enough to bring her memory crashing back. “I’m looking for a friend of mine,” I say, leaning on the counter towards her. “I’m her neighbor back home and I came to surprise her.” A slow smile builds on the girl’s face. “That’s so sweet,” she says stroking her throat. She shifts in her chair, arching her back so that her chest is thrust out, presenting her little tits to me.

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“Can you help me find her?” I ask, rubbing my fingers over the trimmed stubble on my jaw. “Yes,” she says, sounding like she’s getting fucked. She swallows hard as she turns to her computer and stares at the screen with glossed over eyes. “Do you have her room number?” I shake my head. “Student ID number?” I shrug. “I came to surprise her.” “I’m not supposed to give out any student information,” she says with a pained look on her face. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” I whisper. “Please. I drove so far to see her.” She looks conflicted as her eyes dart from me to the computer and back again. “Oh okay,” she says with a sigh. Fuck yeah. She begins to type into the computer when an older man with a lumpy gut and a cheap clip-on tie comes storming over.

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“She has a class in room 605 tomorrow morning at eight thirty,” she says. “And I’ll find where she lives-” “What’s going on Karen?” the guy interrupts, leaning on her desk a bit too close for her comfort. She leans away from him and holds her breath. “I’m looking for a friend of mine,” I say, staring into his pale eyes. “We don’t give out student information,” he says abruptly. “It’s just she’s a friend of min-” “Under any circumstances,” he rudely interrupts. I grind my teeth and try to keep myself from leaping over the table and squeezing his neck so hard that his beady eyes pop out of his head. I try one more time. “It’s her birthday and I wanted to sur-”

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“We. Don’t. Give. Out. Student. Information,” he says pausing between each word. “Is there anything else?” I glance at the girl who is apologizing to me with her eyes. “Good,” he barks. “Have a nice afternoon.” He follows me to the door and locks it behind me. He turns the Open sign over to Closed and gives me a dirty look before turning back into the office, probably to go sexually harass poor Karen at the front desk. The sun is starting to drop and the buildings seem to be closing one by one. I glance at my watch. Six o’clock. Students are leaving the campus in waves. I glance back at the tree to see if the three girls are still there and up for a foursome but there’s nothing there but a crushed soda can and a forgotten flip flop.

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Shit. I’m not going to find her tonight. I’ll wait outside her class tomorrow, room 605, at eight thirty and get her to follow me. Until then… A guy walks by and thrusts a paper into my hand. He’s got a stack of them and is giving one to everyone that he passes. I look at the crumpled pink paper in my hand. Party Tonight at The Sloppy Wench Bar. Beers $3. Girls drink for free. I fold the paper and put it in my pocket. This night hasn’t gone perfectly but it’s starting to get better. Drunken college girls usually have that effect on a night. At least I’ll get laid.

four Sara “What about that guy?” Rachel asks, pointing at a decent looking guy by the bar. They’re trying to find out what my type of guy is. My nose scrunches up when I see him. His watch has a Velcro strap. “Too nerdy,” I answer over the blaring music. Rachel and her boyfriend Greg scan the packed bar from the table that we’re sitting at. They’re looking for a new target. Greg points to a group of guys standing by the wall. “What about Mr. Date Rape over there?” he asks. The guy is good looking enough. Short cropped blond hair and muscular with a nice smile. He’s wearing a black polo and beige

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slacks. He looks like he comes from a nice family who likes to spend their summers at the family cottage in Maine. I can picture him throwing a stick into the water for his golden retriever to fetch. I place myself in the scenario, my arm wrapped around his as we walk down the beach. My nose scrunches up again when I see him take a sip of his grapefruit wine cooler. Ugh. “Too preppy,” I say. “The DJ?” Rachel asks, with a shrug. I take a look and shake my head. “His afro is too big. I can’t date a guy with an afro.” Rachel and Greg both laugh. “Then what is your type?” Greg asks in frustration. I sigh. I’m too embarrassed to say. “Him,” Rachel says with her jaw hanging open. She grabs my chin and thrusts it into the direction of the new target.

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My eyes lock on the man walking through the crowd. He’s a head taller than everyone else and I’m eternally grateful for that so I can see his flawless face. He doesn’t bump into people and get tripped up in the sea of bodies like I would. He swims through it as easily as a shark swimming through a school of fish. People part before him, their conversations ceasing as they turn to stare at his impressive physique. The guys look him up and down all wanting what he has. The girls look him up and down all wanting what he has to be thrust inside them. His lucky black t-shirt looks spray painted on his thickly sculpted arms and muscular chest. His powerful forearms are covered in tattoos that crawl up under the sleeve of his shirt. He wraps his lips around a rock glass and sips the red liquid inside. My eyes follow him, no longer under my control, as he stops on the edge of the dance

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floor, scanning the swaying bodies before him. The slutty drunk girls shake their asses harder as they catch a glimpse of him watching. He looks like an apex predator standing calmly beside a herd of animals, picking out his next prey. I laugh to myself when I imagine what my father would do if I came home with a guy like that. What would he do if I came home with any guy? “Looks like we found a winner,” Greg says with a chuckle. It breaks me out of my trance. I swallow hard and shake my head, trying unsuccessfully to clear it. “If you don’t take him, then I will,” Rachel says, still staring. His back is turned to us. I get a glimpse of his nice ass in his fitted jeans and shift in my seat. “Hey!” Greg says, swatting Rachel’s arm playfully. “I’m sitting right here.”

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I turn back to my beer trying to ignore the pull that his body is having on my eyes. “I want someone who does something more productive than hanging out in a gym all day.” “You’re crazy,” Rachel says, looking at me with a confused look on her face. “We’ll find you somebody,” Greg says, looking eager to take the attention off the Adonis that his girlfriend is drooling at. “What about Mr. Hipster?” he says pointing to a guy in a group near the bathroom. He has a trimmed beard and perfectly styled hair, combed to the side. I shake my head at the scarf wrapped around his neck. My eyes, under my body’s control, dart back to the dance floor. My stomach clenches in disappointment when he’s no longer there. “Incoming,” Rachel whispers as she kicks my foot under the table. I look back as

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a drunk Dave bumps into our table spilling the shots that he’s holding in his hands. “Did someone order shots?” he asks in a mess of bad breath and slurred words. He places the two half empty shot glasses on the table and licks the alcohol off his hands while Rachel throws a napkin on the pool of whiskey on our table. Crap. Now I have to deal with this guy. “No dude,” Greg says. “Nobody ordered shots.” Dave squeals a laugh as if it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. He slides a shot glass in front of me. “It’s for you.” “Alright,” I say as my body gets tight and rigid. I don’t really want it but it’s only half full anyway. Dave grips the table for support and picks up the shot with his shaking hand. His body is swaying from side to side and it looks like the table is the only thing keeping him from falling onto the floor.

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“Cheers,” he says, slamming the shot glass into mine a little too hard. I drink it down and grimace. He slams his empty shot glass onto the table and it falls over, rolling to the side. Rachel catches it as it tumbles off the table. I lean back as he leans in. His eyes are bloodshot and his mouth smells like roadkill. “Can I talk to you?” he asks in a husky voice. My stomach turns. I hate drunk people. “Um okay,” I say, reluctantly getting up. He steadies himself and takes a step towards the dance floor. I glance at Rachel and Greg and shrug. “Good luck,” Rachel mouths. Greg just laughs. I follow the drunken Dave as he manages to bump into every person that he passes. He leaves a trail of annoyed looks and spilled drinks behind him. He heads to the wall beside the dance floor, turns and collapses onto it, using it to

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hold up his weight. I catch a glimpse of the tattooed God, standing nearby looking me up and down. We make eye contact and I suddenly have a strong awareness of my own heartbeat. Probably because it’s pumping like I just sprinted a marathon. His brown eyes are electric and cause every tiny hair on the back of my neck to rise in full alert. He raises his chin and smiles, and I have to look away. He’s too hot and he’s way too intimidating. “You’re so hot,” Dave says with his shoulder and head leaning against the wall. I’m too distracted to answer. I can feel the mysterious stranger’s presence moving towards me. I wipe my moist hands on my jeans. “I’m in love with you,” Dave says. I’m not paying attention to him so I fail to dodge out of the way when he leans in for a kiss. He’s way too drunk and lands his wet,

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slopping tongue on my cheek. It feels like a squirming fish on my skin and I shudder, yanking my head back. “Ew,” I say to myself as I wipe the unwanted saliva off my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt. “Do you love me too?” Dave asks with glazed over eyes. How much did he drink? This is the conversation that I’ve been dreading. He’s a nice guy when he’s sober so I don’t want to be too hard on his feelings. “You’re drunk,” I say, backing away. “I’m going to go back to my friends.” The hot guy is close by watching with an amused look on his gorgeous face. A flash of annoyance strikes me. He looks so cocky. So full of himself. I flash him a dirty look. Dave steps towards me. He’s relentless and is not taking any hints. “I want to date you,” he says. I say the first excuse that comes to mind. “I have a boyfriend.”

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He recoils as if he was just shot in the belly. “Who?” he asks. “Me,” the hot guy says stepping in out of nowhere like a knight in shining Armani. He grabs my wrist and pulls me up to his hard body. “Hi babe,” he says giving me a soft kiss on the lips. He pulls away leaving my head swimming. I grab his hard forearm to keep myself from landing on the sticky floor. “That’s your boyfriend?” Dave asks, looking crushed as the man pulls me away into the gyrating crowd. I’m ready to go anywhere with him as long as he’s holding me like this. “Mmmhmm,” I say licking his taste from my lips. The heat from his body penetrates me and makes my skin flush red. His grip on my wrist is firm. He grins as he looks down my shirt. I can tell he’s used to getting what he wants. I can tell this because I’m about to give him whatever he wants.

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He leans down and I get a whiff of his rugged, masculine scent. “Come, babe,” he says in my ear with a scratchy voice. “Let’s go dance.” I look up into his dark brown eyes and all I can do is nod. He lets go of my wrist and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I glance over my shoulder at Dave as my new friend is pulling me into the swell of sweaty bodies. I mouth a ‘sorry,’ to him. He looks so sad and broken. I didn’t want him to get hurt but I needed to get out of that situation before he tried something else, like licking my forehead. The dance floor is packed with perky tits, spilled beer and grabby hands; the staple of any college party dance floor. My new friend raises his elbows and carves out a spot for us in the crowd. Hot bodies enclose around us and my body is pushed into his. His hand slides up my

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ribcage, the inside of his forearm grazing the side of my breast. My nipples harden immediately under my bra. I glance down at his inked skin and see a skull looking back at me. My fingers trace the tattoo as his hands slide forward, cupping the side of my breasts. I catch myself, jerking out of the trance that he has me in. I wrap my fingers around his forearm and squeeze, digging my nails into his skin. I yank his hands down and they fall back down to my waist. Who the fuck is this guy? And why the fuck does he think he can put his hands all over me? It was like he had my body hypnotized but I’m fully awake now. I hate guys like him, I have to remind myself. I glance back at Dave as he walks away with his defeated head hanging down. That probably ruined our friendship, whatever awkward part of it was left.

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And it’s all this guy’s fault. “I was going to let him off easily,” I say, suddenly angry at his bold cockiness. “Fuck that guy,” he says with a derisive chuckle. “He’s got to get used to failure.” I grab the back of his strong hands and yank them off me. “He’s a nice guy.” “He’s a weak bitch,” he says. “And he’s going to get eaten alive in the real world. You and I both know that.” He’s right but I’m not about to admit it. I clench my jaw as my chest tightens. I’m pissed off. It’s not so much what he did or said, I’m angry at the fact that I’m reacting in such a strong way to such a cocky asshole. I hate that my body is attracted to guys like him. Because my mind hates guys like him. Dave is sitting on a barstool with his shoulders slumped over, sobbing into his beer. He will get eaten alive in the real

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world. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t let this bastard win. “No, he won’t,” I say, trying to ignore his sexy smile. His perfect white teeth show through his delicious lips, mocking me. “He’s a gentleman.” “He looked like a perfect gentleman the way he was groping you and licking your cheek,” he says with an I-just-fucking-won grin pasted on his face. My lips pinch shut as my body goes rigid. I want to slap that cockiness off his face but ladies don’t hit. They backstab, manipulate and can ruin your life, but they don’t hit. “I’m going to get back to my friends,” I say glancing over my shoulder at Rachel and Greg. Rachel gives me a thumbs up while Greg gives me a slow clap. “It looks like your friends want you to stay here,” he says with a triumphant grin on his face. Fucking traitors.

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He gently touches my wrists and pulls me back towards him. My body moves forward despite the fact that I hate this guy. The angry thoughts fade away when I catch a whiff of his smooth, masculine scent. He smells like money and sex. My breath freezes in my chest as he leans in and gently kisses my neck on the sensitive skin just under my ear. My body erupts in warm shivers and I exhale, my body relaxing and falling closer to his. He places his lips to my ear and my pussy clenches when I feel his breath on my skin. “I’m only here for the night,” he whispers. “One day exchange student from Asshole University?” I ask, still not making an effort to move. “Something like that,” he says, with a raspy voice. He steps in closer, sliding his big hands over my lower back and jerking me into him. I gasp as my breasts press into his

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muscular chest. My nipples are painfully hard. “Sorry but you’re not my type,” I lie as I wrap my arm around his shoulder and lightly rake my nails up the back of his neck. He grins. “The ones who say that are the ones who suck my dick the hardest when they inevitably drop to their knees.” I can believe that. “Wow,” I say, pulling back to look in his face, but not too far that I have to stop touching him. “You really know how to talk to a lady.” He bites his bottom lip as he looks down at me with heat in his eyes. “I know how to talk to a girl to get her on her knees with my cock in her mouth.” He looks down at my lips. “Or in your mouth I should say.” I can’t believe he just said that. I stare at him with my jaw hanging open. He cups my chin and lowers my jaw even more, opening my mouth with his

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thumb. “A little bigger my love,” he says. “You’ll have to open up wide if I’m going to fit in there.” I can see how that would work on most women. I’m already picturing his cock sliding between my lips. I can tell that this man takes what he wants and that is sexy as all hell. No one has ever been so direct with me and I find it shocking. And arousing at the same time. But I can’t give into that arrogance. No matter how much I want to. His warm hands drop off me as I step backward. I suddenly feel cold and alone. I resist every urge in my body to step back towards him and let his hands warm up my skin; to let his dirty words warm up the area between my legs. I know what is going to happen if I give in. I’ll lose all control of myself around him and I’ll be his slave until he kicks me out

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onto the sidewalk as soon as a hotter girl walks by. It won’t be just one night with me. I’ll get attached. And I promised myself that I’ll never get attached to a bad boy asshole again. “Have a good night,” I say, turning away. I can feel my panties sticking to my wetness. “I’m here when you change your mind,” he says as if he knows that my return is inevitable. I shake my head and walk back to the table. I’m stronger than the desire flowing through my veins that’s making my heart pound in my chest and my panties wet. I hope. Rachel looks like I just suffocated her new kitten. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asks, outraged. I slip into my seat and take a sip of my beer. It washes his taste off my lips for good and I’m secretly disappointed.

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“Why are you not over there grinding against his hard cock?” Rachel asks, still unable to close her appalled mouth. I exhale and peel back the corner of the wet coaster under my drink. “Not interested in assholes.” “Who cares when they look like that?” Rachel asks. “You only have two years of college left. The window to have one night stands with hot, muscular guys is closing every day. Take advantage of it. Live the real college experience. Have you had sex one time since you’ve been here?” I rip off the corner of the coaster and roll it into a ball between my finger and thumb. She knows that I haven’t. Rachel exhales in frustration. “You owe it to yourself to experience college properly and bang a ton of guys.” “Wait a minute,” Greg says, turning to his girlfriend. “Have you ‘experienced college properly’?” he asks using air quotes.

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“No,” Rachel says, smiling her best smile at him. “Just you baby.” She kisses him on his lips and he turns back to his beer with a relieved look on his face. Rachel looks at me and grimaces. Guilty bitch. “Looks like some other lucky lady is going to get the real college experience,” Greg says motioning to the dance floor with his head. I look over my shoulder and a heaviness sets into my body. I smile bitterly as a drunk blond girl with her shirt tied into a knot over her flat stomach grinds on the mysterious stranger. The strong hands that were heating my body are now groping her ass as she shakes her chest to the shitty music. I grit my teeth, feeling envious. Maybe Rachel is right. Maybe this is what college is all about. Will I be looking back at this moment when I’m married twenty years from now, and having sex with the same overweight accountant every night, and regret

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not taking advantage of the opportunity that presented itself? Will I be wishing that I took him up on his invitation every time my husband lazily sticks it in me while the evening news plays in the background? I can handle him. I’m a woman now. I only became obsessed last time because I was a teenager. This time, I can handle my shit. I wave over the big tittied shot girl who is walking around dressed as a sexy referee with a whistle in her mouth. She blows on the whistle as she squirms through the crowd and holds out her tray full of fluorescent blue shots. I hand one to Rachel, one to Greg and place four in front of me. She nods as I toss a few bills onto her tray and she blows her whistle as she struts away to a group of guys. I down two shots back to back and wipe the alcohol from my lips as I look over my shoulder at my target. He’s still on the dance

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floor with the girl wrapped around him. She’s using him as a stripper pole. She’s trashy and too drunk. Like sloppy, sleeping with your arms wrapped around a toilet, drunk. She’s no competition. I can tell by the way he keeps glancing back at me. He wants me. I down another shot. And I want him. “Bottoms up,” I whisper to myself as I down the last shot and slam it on the table. It’s time to live the real college experience.

five Colton I’m feeling up my consolation prize when she comes storming back on the dance floor with fire in her eyes. Her gorgeous skin is a heated red and her expression means business. I push the drunk blond off me and she stumbles into the crowd of dancers. She lands on another guy and she immediately starts grinding on him without missing a beat of this horrible song. She would’ve been just fine but this girl returning to me with her hands clenched into fists is going to be spectacular. Her body is ripe, her mouth fierce and she seems to hate me. I love a challenge.

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Nobody fucks harder than a girl that hates you. It’s a ferocious, angry fuck that is so primal. And so hot. She’s back, which means I’ve already won. Time to turn up the heat. “I told you you’d be back,” I say with a smirk. She storms right up to me and I wince, unsure if she’s about to punch me in the face. She certainly looks like it. “Shut up,” she says as she comes in close, steps on her toes and kisses me on the lips. I slide my hands over her lower back and pull her into me as I return her kiss. Her eager berry flavored tongue wrestles with mine and I get an excited shiver as I think what that silky tongue will feel like sliding up and down my hard shaft. I swallow a series of her moans and grind my erection into her pelvis. It hasn’t softened since the first time that I touched her.

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She pulls away and swallows hard as she looks at me with the sexiest fuck me eyes that I’ve ever seen. I tuck a loose strand of her wavy brown hair behind her ear and kiss her lips softly. I’m wondering what caused the sudden change of heart when I see her mouth hang open and her tongue is stained a bright blue. Gotta love alcohol. “What’s your name?” she asks. The sight of her lips moving makes my dick so hard that it burns. “Colton,” I say, giving my real name this time. I want to hear her scream it later. “And you?” “You can call me…Candy,” she says, clearly giving me a fake name. That’s fine with me. It means that she’s only up for a one night fling. I would fuck her either way but it’s much less messy when the girl knows that they’ll be no number exchanging or breakfast ordering in the morning.

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I lean in and bite her earlobe softly. “You ready to suck my cock Candy?” I whisper in her ear. She pulls away, grabs my hand and stares me in the eyes. Candy nods.

Her hands claw at my belt buckle like she’s been poisoned and the antidote is in my dick. I grab her wrists and pull them away. “Lie on the bed,” I order. She stumbles across her dorm room and lies on the bed next to the wall on the right. It’s a tiny room barely lit up by the small light on her desk. I glance at the second bed wondering when the roommate is going to come home. Maybe this will turn into a threesome.

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But the way that this girl is staring at me and writhing on the bed I kinda want her all to myself. I grab the bottom of my shirt with crossed arms and slip it over my head in one fluid motion, making sure to flex my abs as I pull it off. Her eyes are on me, studying me like one of her textbooks. She lingers on my arms, trying to see my tattoos in the dark room. I toss my shirt on the clothes and notebook littered floor and slip off my shoes and socks. She can barely contain herself as she watches. She slides her hand into her pants and starts doing my job for me. Can’t have that. “Take your hand out of your pants or I’m going to tie you up,” I warn. “That pussy is mine. Nobody is allowed to touch it. Even you.”

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She pulls her hand out and slides them both under the pillow behind her head. Her back is arched and her tits are sticking up in the air teasing me, taunting me as they heave up and down with her short, heavy breaths. “You’re the boss?” she asks, licking her lips after. “That’s right I am,” I say as I slide my belt out of my pants. I make a show of bending the leather together like a whip. “If you wanted rose petals and Michael Bubble then you would have gone home with the cheek licker.” I snap the belt and it cracks like a whip, making her jump. “But you went home with me.” I place the belt on the night table beside her bed where it is within reach if I need it. “So be a good little girl,” I say, “and listen to your daddy or I’m going to slap that ass raw.” “Yes daddy,” she nods, and I fucking have her. She’ll do whatever I want. And right now I want my cock sucked.

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I unzip my jeans and let them drop down my muscular legs. My dick is raging behind my boxer briefs and the tip is popping out of the waistband like it’s trying to look over a fence at the treat that I have for him tonight. Candy, or whatever the fuck her name is, is still fully dressed. I want to see her smooth milky skin, those perky nipples that have been teasing me all night and the sweet nectar between her legs. “On your knees,” I order her. She jumps to her knees on the bed and waits for further instruction. I walk up to her and plunge my tongue into her mouth kissing her hard and deep. She tastes so good. It’s time to taste the rest of her. She raises her arms over her head as I lift her shirt off of her. Her white lacy bra hugs her big tits and shoves them up for me in a spectacular sight. I kiss her again as I

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reach behind her back to unclasp her bra and set these babies free. I pull away just in time to see her bra tumble away and her gorgeous, full tits bounce free. My dick pulses as I take a nipple in my mouth and roll my tongue over it, making it hard. I leave a trail of kisses from one breast to the other and by the time I reach her second nipple she’s moaning hard and running her fingers through my hair as she arches her back, pressing her tits into my face. The scent of her arousal is stirring something primal in me. My blowjob can wait. I want to taste her first. “Lie down,” I order. “You’re so bossy,” she says as she does exactly what she’s told. Her spectacular breasts are undulating up and down as she spreads her legs and waits for me. I can tell by her designer clothes that this girl is from a rich upper middle-class

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family. She’s been treated with nothing but respect her whole life and she’s not used to having someone order her around. Well, that’s what I’m here for. That’s what the hot guy in the bar who brings you home and fucks your brains out is for. He orders you around, makes you feel like a dirty slut for the night and every other time you’re making love to your sweet, caring boyfriend you can think of my fat cock plunging into your mouth and get off. I climb on the bed, placing my knees between her spread legs and lean over her body, placing my face inches from hers. “You have a big mouth,” I whisper. “If only I had something to stuff in there and shut it up with.” I dig my erection onto her pussy and she jerks her back up and whines. She writhes her hips under me as she closes her eyes and pants. The seam of her jeans is digging into my shaft but if feels good.

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I grab a fistful of her hair, as I grind between her legs, and squeeze, just enough so she feels some stinging on her scalp. She opens her mouth and gasps. I plunge my tongue into her mouth and she kisses me back with a ferocity that surprises me. She’s good to go now. I pull my mouth away, leaving her groaning, and kiss a trail down her salty skin. I lick my way between her breasts and down her flat stomach. I lick my lips as I unzip her jeans and slide them down her smooth legs. I take my time, both to build her anticipation and to admire her long, toned legs. I unhook her feet from her jeans and toss them over my shoulder and onto the floor where they belong. Her white panties are soaked through. The wet heat and sweet scent between her legs awakens the animal in me and I tear her

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underwear to pieces to get to the juiciness underneath. “Look how wet your tight little pussy is,” I say as I trace my finger around her opening. “Are you ready for my cock now?” She moans a yes as her head lolls to the side of the pillow. I push the tip of my index finger in deeper, feeling the silkiness of her tunnel. “You’re so tight,” I say, my voice getting deeper and throatier. “Look how wet and ready you are. You’ve been ready since the first time that you saw me. Since the first time you grinded on my cock on the dance floor.” “Stick it in me,” she moans in between labored breaths. She’s squirming around in aroused anticipation. I can tell by the way her body is moving that her mind is consumed with lust. “I give the orders,” pulling my finger away. She whines as she massages her tits.

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“I’m sorry,” she says with desperation in her voice. I slide my finger back in her, sliding it all the way up to my knuckle. I can tell by her tightness that she’s not the slutty type. She’s as tight as a virgin. “I’m going to stretch this pussy out with my huge cock,” I say, rotating my finger inside her. “Every guy you fuck after me is going to ask you what happened.” She’s biting her lip as she listens. I have to be careful or she’s going to come on my fingers. And she’s not getting off that easily. “What are you going to tell them?” She breaths in heavily. “That you fucked me.” Her voice comes out in hisses. “Who fucked you?” “That Colton fucked me,” she screams. “You tell them your tight pussy got ruined the day you fucked a real man.” She’s about to answer when I plunge my tongue into her wet hole. Her words turn

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into gasps, which turn into moans as I explore her folds with my tongue. She gives herself over to me, submitting to me as I eat her out. Her legs are spread open as far as her legs will allow and her hands are grabbing the back of my head, pulling me into her. She tastes as good as she smells and I could do this all night. I slip another finger in as I flick her clit with my tongue. She whines and calls out my name again. Hearing ‘Colton’ slide past her sweet lips makes my dick ache. I press it against the mattress for some relief. This chick is writhing against my mouth real hard. She’s still sopping wet no matter how much of her pussy juices I drink up. It won’t be long before she comes. But first… I smile at her frantic and angry whine as I pull my mouth away from her. She is looking at me with desperation in her eyes. It’s time to get my dick wet.

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I step off the bed and slide my boxer briefs down. My dick is throbbing. She is on her knees in front of me before I have a chance to order her down. She’s staring up at my cock like it’s magical, which I’ve been told by multiple women that it is. I grab a fistful of her thick brown hair and squeeze it just enough so that she knows I mean business. She arches her head back and opens her mouth, staring into my eyes as her hand falls down between her legs. She’s knuckle deep in her pussy as I trace the tip of my hard cock around her wet, open lips. Her tongue reaches up and licks the sensitive part under the head of my dick and my body erupts in warm shivers. She has pure lust in her eyes and I know that I can make her do anything I desire. I pull her head forward and she takes me in her mouth, not hesitating for a second. She engulfs my cock in her warm mouth and

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presses her head forward until she is almost gagging. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the wall and look down at the brown head of hair bobbing up and down on my cock. I grab the back of her head with two hands and force her head forward, pushing myself into her throat. I can tell that she likes it by the way her fingers are grinding faster on her clit. I let out a groan as her swift hungry tongue massages my shaft. This is better than I expected from a rich college girl. I can tell that this one night stand is out of her comfort zone but she has definitely risen to the challenge. I grunt as she adds her hand to the mix and all I’m thinking about is the feel of her soft lips wrapped around my cock and her hand cupping my balls. She yanks it out of her mouth and takes violent breaths of air as she jacks me off and licks my sack.

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I’m going to paint her tonsils with my cum if I’m not careful. She’s got me too close with her greedy little tongue. And I’m not ready for this night to be over. Not without fulfilling my promise to stretch out her tight little pussy. I grab my cock and step back from her. She looks at me with a sexy pout, like I just took away her new toy. “Lean over the bed sweetheart,” I say as I stroke my cock, using her saliva as lubricant. She jumps to it, pressing her tits on the bed and thrusting her ass in the air. She looks back over her shoulder as she grabs the far end of the mattress. Her eyes are glazed over with lust as she looks at me impatiently. “Spread your legs wider,” I order as I approach. Her legs part and I can see her sticky wetness on the inside of her thigh. She’s so wet.

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I spread her cheeks with my hand and slap my cock onto her pink asshole. “You want me to fuck your ass?” I ask. She gasps as she rips the sheets off the corner of the mattress in her balled fist. “Fuck me anywhere you want,” she answers as she arches her ass towards me. I slide the tip of my cock up her soaked pussy ready to slide it in. “Fuck,” I curse under my breath. I forgot my Magnums in the car. I rip open the drawer of her night table and finger through makeup, paintbrushes and other junk looking for a rubber. “What is it?” she asks in a groan. “Condom.” She swallows hard and then points to her roommate’s night table. “In there. Hurry up.” I slap her ass with my hand and she lets out a whine. “I tell you what to do,” I say, picking up my belt and tracing it up the curve of her ass. The cold leather leaves

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goosebumps on her skin. “Forget that again and I’ll have to really show you who’s boss.” I toss the belt back onto the nightstand and open up her roommate’s drawer. I pull out an accordion of blue foil and curse. “Shit.” They’re only mediums. Small dick motherfucker. “What’s wrong?” she asks, writhing in frustration. She’s got two fingers buried in her cunt and she’s grinding on her palm. “Hey!” I say, tearing the top off of the blue foil. “Get your hand out of my pussy.” Her hand vanishes under her and reappears as she grabs the other side of the bed. I roll the condom on the tip of my cock and force the tiny thing down. It’s way too fucking small. “Well fuck me!” she begs, grabbing her tit and squeezing it roughly. “What did I say?” I ask, picking up my belt once again. This time I let her have it. It

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cracks over her ass cheeks and she lets out a pathetic wail. She bites her bottom lip and looks at me over her shoulder with a challenge in her sex crazed eyes. She likes it. “Want another one?” I ask. She nods and I give her what she wants. I put my wrist into it and she screams out harder this time. I toss the belt onto the floor and spread her red ass cheeks as she’s begging me for more. I sink my hard cock into her tight pussy with one swift stroke. She groans into the bed as I drop my head back and open my mouth, surprised at how tight she feels. I slowly pull back out of her and she arches her ass back, not wanting to let me go. I slam back into her, my legs hitting her ass with a smack. I grab a ball of her sexy brown hair and fuck her hard.

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The bed squeaks across the floor and slams into the wall with every violent thrust. She’s grabbing the mattress so hard that her knuckles turn white and she’s digging her forehead into the bed. Her screams and moans are coming out muffled. I glance at my jacked reflection in the mirror as I fuck this rich girl, doggy style. I flex my triceps and pump harder, feeling like a porn star. But I’m better than a porn star. I’m the real thing. She’s going to be thinking of this moment every time she fucks her nice, thoughtful, future boyfriends. She’s going to be thinking of me: the stud who she went home with that one erotic night in college who fucked her properly. The one who stretched out her pussy and left her covered in jizz. Her body goes rigid and her back arches up. Her screams and moans disappear as she holds her breath and twists her face in an

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expression that can only mean that she’s dying in agony or about to come. But the way that her legs are shaking and her pussy is lathering my cock up with juices, I’m guessing it’s the latter. Her face turns from red to blue and then her body erupts in violent convulsions. Her pussy tightens even more around my cock and I squeeze her ass cheeks as I fuck her through her orgasm. She screams out in incoherent words and noises as she yanks the blankets towards her showing the stained mattress underneath. She’s whimpering as the orgasm rips through her and I don’t let up. No mercy. I fuck her even harder now that she’s the most sensitive. She quivers under my hands as she tries to catch her breath. She’s a trooper, I’ll give her that much. She’s still pushing back on me, meeting my thrusts halfway.

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Her pussy is too tight and I can’t take it anymore. I grimace and grit my teeth as I blow my load deep inside her. I’m suddenly out of breath as well and my heart is pounding like a jackhammer on steroids. She gasps as I pull out of her. My legs aren’t as stable as they were a few seconds ago. I collapse onto her bed and she straightens out beside me, giving me room to lie down. “Fuck!” I hiss as I look down at the condom. It’s shredded. I should have gone to my car to get my Magnums. I turn to the girl. “You’re on the pill right?” She shakes her head no. “Fuck.” I stare up at the watermarks on the ceiling as reality comes flooding back to me. I shouldn’t be here. I’m here for a job. A job that can get me killed if I fuck it up.

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I should be looking for her: Sara Price. Ichiro is probably looking for her. Ichiro isn’t fucking some rich girl wannabe slut. ‘That’s why you’re number two and he’s number one,’ a little, annoying voice in my head says. “You’re welcome to stay over,” she says, as she climbs under the blankets. I close my eyes tight. Why can’t I just do a job? Pussy is always getting in my way. I decide to rest my eyes for ten minutes and then go find the girl. Sara Price. Her name is on the edge of my lips as I drift off into a deep sleep.

six Sara I examine the skull tattooed on his bicep and follow the lines of black ink down his forearm. His muscular pecs are rising and falling slowly. He’s asleep. I take my chances. I carefully lean up on my elbow and the blanket tumbles down my chest exposing my naked breasts. I gasp as I yank the blanket back up, covering myself in case this stranger wakes up. He’s seen that and a lot more already. I crane my head and tilt forward, trying to get a good look at his package in the morning sunlight. The deep ridges of his abs look flexed even though his body is relaxed in sleep.

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I want to see if his thing was as big as I remember. If it was real or just the alcohol in my system playing tricks on me. But from the soreness of my lower body, it seems to have been as real as the pounding in my head. The blanket is draped over his waist, just below the tempting V carved into his pelvis. The tip of his trimmed pubic hair is peeking out at me. I lie back down in the tiny space that he’s so generously left me jammed into the wall. My stomach starts to turn and my mouth goes dry. More from nerves than the line of shots that I did last night. What is going to happen when he wakes up? Are we supposed to kiss? Or have sex again? Is he just going to leave? Will he expect to use my toothbrush? I’ve never done this before and the drunken sexpot who was here last night with him has gone with the darkness. I reach for

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my phone to google ‘how to act in the morning after a one-night stand,’ when I wake him up. “Huh?” he says, rubbing his eyes. Oh, crap. Suddenly I feel very naked. I hold the blankets up to my neck and pretend like I’m sleeping. He sits up and I sneak a peek at his toned back. He’s so hot. “Hey,” he grunts, looking at me over his shoulder. “Do you have a class list or something?” “What?” I ask. Is he talking in his sleep because he’s not making any sense? “I’m looking for someone,” he says. “My cousin. I wanted to surprise her yesterday but I couldn’t find her.” “What’s her name?” I ask, wondering how long he’s going to stay. Am I going to have to get out of the bed naked? Because there’s a lot of light in the room.

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He runs his hands through his dark messed up hair. “Sara Price.” My body goes cold and rigid as my breath catches in my throat. I pull the sheets up higher and tuck my hands into them so he won’t see them shaking. My heart is racing faster than it did last night. Why did he just say my name? I’m trapped beside the wall. He’s between me and the door. Not like my trembling legs would work right now anyways, but still. “Never heard of her,” I say with a gulp. “Can I get you something before you leave?” “Hit it and quit it eh?” He chuckles. “You’re already a pro at this.” “Well, I am a fast learner.” He stands up, letting the blankets fall away from his athletic body. My stomach feels rock hard as I watch his nice ass walk across my dorm room while he gathers his clothes. What could he possibly want with

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me? He’s definitely no cousin of mine. I’d go to way more family events if he was. I remember all of the missed calls from my father that I ignored and feel a tinge of panic. Maybe this has something to do with them. He turns as he steps into his underwear and despite all of the warning signs and danger ringing in my head, I stop to admire his cock. It hangs down low on the inside of his thigh and it boggles my mind that it fit inside me. He slips on his jeans and retrieves his belt from my nightstand. My face reddens when I remember what he did with it last night. I can still feel the leather against my ass. “I’m going to take off,” he says, his delicious arms flexing as he snakes his belt through the loops of his jeans. “I’ll let you get to your class.” He picks up a notebook off my night table and reads, “Advanced Legal

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Writing for American Practice.” He scrunches up his nose like he just smelled a moist hockey bag. “Yuck.” I shrug. My insides are screaming at him to leave. He grins as he opens the notebook with two hands. “What’s your real name Candy?” I lunge for the notebook, not caring that it exposes my breasts. I’m too late. The notebook slips out of his open fingers and lands on the floor with a thud. He’s staring at me with unbelieving eyes. “No,” he mutters as he races towards my purse on the chair. He rips out my wallet and I jump out of bed and get dressed in last night’s clothes as quickly as I can while he leafs through my ID cards. He turns around showing me my driver’s license. “No class for you today Miss Price.” I throw my notebook at him, missing him by two miles, and sprint to the door. He

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catches me in his strong arms and spins me around, positioning himself between me and the door. Even with my life in danger, I still take note of his biceps touching my bra-less breasts. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers in my ear. Being held like this is both scary and strangely arousing. I’m strongly aware of his bare chest touching my body. “I work for your dad. I’m here to help you.” I relax my body so he puts me down and steps back, keeping his large frame in front of the door. One thing that my dad did teach me was that a good defense was a strong offense. I strike him with my fist and it lands with a smack on his nose. He crumples back in shock and I release a flurry of fists and kicks at his hard body. Two years of Tae Bo bitch!

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I picture his face as the punching bag at the gym and let loose in a combination that would make Billy Blanks proud. I step in for an uppercut when he grabs my fist and squeezes. I drop to my knees screaming in agony. My hand feels like it’s trapped in a vice. “Fuck,” he hisses as he touches his nostril. His finger comes away with dark red blood smeared on the tip. “What the fuck was that?” He lets go of my hand and I cradle it to my belly, both shocked and horrified that someone can have that much power and strength. “I told you that I work for your dad,” he says, looking up his nose in the small mirror over the key hook. “I’m trying to bring you home.” I push up to my feet, shaking out my crushed hand and rush back to my purse. I grab my cell. “Let me call him.”

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His eyes go wide. “No,” he says, shaking his head. I take a step back towards the window. I’m four floors up but I’ll jump out if I have to. “I’ll bring you to him,” he says with his voice wavering. Somethings up. This guy isn’t giving me the whole story and I’m not up to hearing his bullshit version. “I’ll just call him,” I say casually as I quickly dial the number. “Sara,” he warns, looking at me sternly. I raise my thumb from the screen but the call goes through. We can both hear the phone ringing on the other line. He lunges for my cell and I land a kick right between his legs. He drops to his knees and I rush past him and rip the door open. I scream as I bump into the chest of a Japanese man standing in the door frame. He grabs my wrist as tight as a bear trap and looks from my face to the picture in his hand

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of me at my high school graduation. “Sara Price?” he asks in a thick Japanese accent. “Ichiro.” A scratchy voice says from behind me. It’s Colton. He’s staring at the man holding me with murder in his dark brown eyes. “Let her go. She’s coming with me.” The Japanese man lets go of my wrist, reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun made of gold. I thrust my knee into his groin and he stumbles into my dorm room as I escape down the hallway. I’m running down the cold tile barefoot as I put the phone to my ear. “Dad!” I yell. “Sara,” his deep voice answers. “What was that noise? Who are you with?” “What the fuck is going on?” I scream. I’m the one asking the fucking questions. “Who were those guys?” “Sara,” he says, trying to speak calmly. “There are some bad people after you. I sent

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a guy named Ichiro to protect you. He’s Japanese. Go with him.” I explode out the door into the stairwell. I jump down the steps three at a time as I scream at my dad. “That’s the guy who you sent to protect me? He has a gun! He’s killing my friend!” “What?” he yells back. “What the fuck happened?” “Two guys broke into my apartment, both claiming to work for you and started fighting.” I burst out the emergency exit door and into the street. The sun is shining and the pavement is warm under my bare feet. I run down the sidewalk towards the University where there will be crowds of people that I can get lost in. “What were their names?” he asks. “Ichiro and Colton.” My dad breathes in hard. I lean on a tree, taking a second to catch my breath

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when I hear something break on my dad’s end. I can tell that he’s taken the phone away from his ear but I can still hear the screaming. “Fucking cocksucking piece of shit! I’m going to fucking kill that traitorous Colton fuck!” I take a deep breath and push forward, racing across the grass courtyard of the University. Students are watching me curiously as they head to their morning classes. I just keep running onto the sidewalk and off the campus. The safest thing for me now is to get lost in the crowd of morning commuters. “Sara,” he says coming back on the line. I stop and lean on a parking meter to catch my breath and to check my heel. I stepped on something that cut my foot. “Do not, I repeat, do not go with Colton. Go with Ichiro. He’ll bring you back to me.” “I don’t want to go back to-”

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Someone rips the phone from my ear. “You,” I whisper, finishing my sentence as I turn around. There are six men looking at me with villainous intentions. “Sara Price,” the beefy bald man in front says. He reaches forward and I spot a shitty prison tattoo of two crossed hammers on his forearm. The logo of the Russian Crime Syndicate: The Bratva or Russian Brotherhood. My dad’s enemies. Crap. A man to my side wraps a black bag over my head in a flash and my feet are yanked off the sidewalk. And today was going to be such a good day…

seven Colton I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. It was inevitable. There has been so much tension between me and Ichiro over the years that it was bound to finish in an old fashioned duel. I want to relish the moment and take my time but Sara is on the loose and I have to go find her before she disappears for good. Unfortunately, I have to make this quick. Ichiro pushes up to his feet, cupping his sore balls with his hand. He glances down at the golden gun lying in the gray desert of carpet between us.

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“I’ll let you go now,” Ichiro says, straightening his faded blue baseball cap. “You go to the boss and say sorry.” I’m not about to fall for that. I’ll get a bullet through my occipital lobe as I walk through the door. I’ve worked with him before. I know his style. “How stupid do you think I am?” I ask, rolling my shoulders forward and shaking out my hands. “Very stupid,” he answers. “So stupid.” “I didn’t mean literally,” I say with a grimace. “Why don’t you go shoot up another daycare you psycho? I’m completing this job.” He glances at the broken condom on the floor. “I wonder what the boss will say when I tell him that you boinked his daughter.” “Boinked?” I ask with a chuckle. “Did you just say bo-”

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He lunges at me as quick as a snake’s strike and I barely have time to react. He crashes into me like a skinny linebacker sending my body flying into the wall with a thud. Fucking Ninja Assassin. Ichiro turns and dives on the gun. I grab his heel and yank him back. His fingertips graze the handle as I pull him back out of reach. He spins on the floor and attacks, landing a kick to my jaw that jerks my head back and leaves white sparks in my vision like it’s the fourth of July. I leap forward with a flying roundhouse and land it with a crack on his cheek. I’m not sure what hit harder: my fist or the back of his head slamming into the floor afterward. It’s on. We both forget the gun and attack each other so fiercely that it would make Bruce Lee shit his pants.

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I use my brute force and American street fighting skills to attack his traditional Kung Fu. I take more shots than him but I can hit harder. Ichiro lands a side kick to my chest with a grunt and the air is forced out of my lungs. It doesn’t stop me. I grab the little man in a bear hug, pick him up and slam him into the roommate’s desk. The cheap Ikea table shatters into shards of fake wood as Ichiro’s body rips through it like we’re in a WWE wrestling match. He grabs a piece of broken wood as I jump on him. He smashes it against my temple as my fingers close around his throat. I squeeze. Hard. “What’s the matter?” I ask through grunts. His mouth is wide open looking for air that it doesn’t get. His face is turning an icy blue.

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“Forgot your Samurai sword? Ninja Ass.” Nope. He didn’t. A searing pain cuts into my ribcage. “Fuck!” I scream as my hands release his neck and instinctively go to the pain. I tumble off him backward feeling the wet spot on my side. My hand is covered in blood. My blood. Not good. Ichiro gets up holding a bloody pocketknife. It’s the first time that I’ve seen him smile. Ever. It’s not pretty. He looks like a lizard. He points the dripping red knife at me and glares. “You are no hitman,” he says, his voice coming out like an angry hiss. “You lack discipline, integrity, and honor.” “I lack integrity and honor?” I say, chuckling despite the burning pain from my stab wound. “You kill kids for a living.”

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He shakes his head. “I remove targets,” he says coldly. “Men, women, children. It makes no difference. They are not people. They are targets. That is the way a hitman must think.” “That is the way a psychopath thinks.” I keep my eyes on him but scan the room through my peripheries. I’m in a bad spot. Injured, bleeding and on my ass while he is standing over me with a knife in his hand. “A hitman must have no morals,” he explains. “You must be willing to kill anything, anytime.” The corner of his lips curl up into a smile. “Even pregnant women carrying the child of your coworker.” A sudden coldness grips my core. No. “I have to admit she put up more of a fight than you,” he says, stepping towards me with the knife by his side.

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My fingers close around a flimsy piece of wood from the desk and the tops of my fingers brush against steel cold underneath. I toss the wood to the side and grab the handle of Ichiro’s gun. I point it at his forehead. He freezes. “You killed Olivia?” I ask the words coming out in shaky stammers and stutters. He glares down at me and shakes his head. “I removed a target. My employer wanted the target eliminated. I eliminated it.” “It?” I ask squeezing the gun so hard that my knuckles burn. “Your target was going to be my wife. She had my baby growing inside her belly.” Adrenaline is pumping into my veins like a fire hose. There aren’t enough bullets to put through this dead man’s brain. “Which one of the Russians gave the order?” I ask. Ichiro was working for the

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Russian Bratva at the time. I have so many questions for him but by the way my index finger keeps stroking the trigger of the gun pointed at his face I don’t think he’ll be alive long enough to give me all the answers. “I never reveal my employer’s names,” he says through a tight jaw. “Well there’s a first for everything,” I say, lowering the gun to his leg. I pull the trigger and the gun recoils in my hand with a deafening pop. I hear a scream from the hallway over the ringing in my ears. The bullet tears through Ichiro’s thigh and he stumbles backward, gripping the wall for support. He grimaces in pain as blood pours down his cheap beige slacks. “You see that’s the first time that I put a bullet through your body,” I say, rising to my feet. I keep the gun aimed at his head. “And unless you want another one you’re going to tell me who gave you the order to kill my fiancee and my kid!”

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The door opens and a chubby security guard looks at us. He runs away with a look of terror on his fleshy face. I shouldn’t have turned. Ichiro throws the knife that was still in his hand and it sinks into my bicep. He leaps forward and slams his two palms into my chest and I fall over cracking the back of my head on the nightstand. I aim the gun forward, seeing nothing but darkness, and fire three times. I hear the window shatter and when my vision returns the room is empty. I run to the broken window and see Ichiro limping down the road four floors down. He shoves a guy off his bicycle, gets on it and escapes, leaving spatters of blood on the pavement. Fucking Ninja Assassin. I wince as I touch the handle of his pocket knife sticking out of my bicep like an enemy flag on conquered territory. I take a

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deep breath, hold it and yank out the blade. Blood pours out of the fresh wound, cut across the forehead of my skull tattoo. God damn Ichiro. He fucked up my tattoo. I open a drawer of Sara’s dresser and grab the first piece of clothing that I can. I wrap the yellow tank top around my arm and tie it tight using my teeth and other hand. I have to leave. Fast. There’s a pounding in my ears from what Ichiro just admitted. He killed Olivia. I’m going to rip his heart out of his chest for that but it’s going to have to come later. That security guard will be back with some more firepower. And I have to find that girl if I expect to survive another meeting with Carmen. I tuck Ichiro’s golden gun into the waistband of my pants, slip on my t-shirt from last night and head for the door when a

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phone rings. My stomach hardens as my body goes cold. I know that ringtone. I take a deep breath and slowly walk to the pile of broken desk. Ichiro’s cell phone is buzzing on the wood. My breath catches in my throat when I see the name on the bloodspattered screen. Carmen Price. I pick up the phone and slide my finger across the screen, smearing a drop of blood while I answer it. “Hello,” I say, trying to give my best Japanese accent. It needs some work. “Ichiro,” the unmistakable voice of Carmen barks. “Have you found my daughter?” “Not yet,” I say, flinching at my bad accent. He exhales hard into the phone. “Find her Ichiro. Soon. The Bratva are closing in.” There’s a long pause before Carmen speaks again. “Ichiro,” he says, his voice

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sounding tight and strained. “You have a new target after you find her.” “Who?” I ask. He sighs. “Colton Matthews.” I almost drop the phone out of my sweaty hands. I press my fist to the side of my head, trying to come up with something to say but I’m unable to think. My pulse is racing and my breath catches in my throat. “Say again.” Maybe I heard wrong. “I need you to take out Colton,” he repeats. Shit. “He’s after Sara as well. He seems to have defected to the Russians.” I gulp. “I don’t think that’s accurate boss,” I say, my voice coming out in a much higher pitch than Ichiro’s does. “Now that’s not for you to question now is it?!?” Carmen screams into the other end of the line. I can feel the spit flying through the phone. I thought he only yelled at me like that. “Get my daughter and eliminate your target!”

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I jerk the phone away from my ear as crashes and bangs ring through the ear piece. Carmen is probably slamming his phone onto his desk. He goes through iPhones like an ape goes through bananas. It’s at least his fifth one this month. Cell phones are great but there’s something so satisfying about slamming down an old rotary phone that I’m sure the boss misses. I slip Ichiro’s phone into my pocket and head to the door, stopping at the small mirror over the key hook. My right eye is black and my left cheek bone is swollen. I wipe the dried blood from under my nose and run my fingers through my hair. I’ve looked better but I just fought one of the top assassins on the planet. I’m lucky to be alive. I glance uneasily around the room at all of the chaos that I’m leaving behind. Broken furniture, blood stains, bullet shells and not to mention the used condom. There’s way too much of my DNA linking me back to this

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room. But I have to leave. I have to find Sara before Ichiro or the Russians do. If I lose her I’m truly a dead man. I fear Carmen more than the police. Cops are like teddy bears compared to the killers that Carmen has on his payroll. I know because I’m one of them. I run down the hallway and burst into the stairwell where I made out and fingered Sara last night on the way up. I fly down the steps, only stopping for a second to adjust the back of my shoe. I crash through the doors and curse when I end up outside. People are walking on the sidewalks with their heads down on the way to school or on their morning commutes. I don’t know which way she went. I sprint across the street and head towards the University. That’s where I would go if I were her. She knows the area and there must be a ton of people at this hour. A ton of places to hide.

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I bump into students as I rush through the main gates of the University. I sprint onto the grass of the courtyard and stop in the middle. “Fuck!” I look around from building to building and shake my head. She’s gone. I just lost the only thing that can reverse the death sentence that Carmen has on my head. At least she’s not with Ichiro. At least she got away. I hear a scream and some commotion and I take off in that direction, pumping my legs until they burn like acid. I pop out on the street and look up the sidewalk. A navy blue SUV with a few Russians hanging around it are a few yards away. One of them is smashing the cell phone of a terrified teenager. They all have the same faded tattoo of two crossed hammers on their forearms.

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I pull the gun out of the waistband of my jeans and sprint forward. A lady screams and dives out of my way. I hate doing this in public, really. I try to be a professional but these sort of messy situations just always fall into my lap. Ichiro says that it’s my fault. I just think that the universe hates me. I aim Ichiro’s gun between the eyes of the closest Russian thug in front of me, the one with the red track suit on, and pull the trigger. He crumples to the sidewalk before I hear the ringing in my ear from the shot. Three more flicks of my finger and three more dead Bratva Russian mobsters fall to the cement. Their bloated bodies will leave grease stains on the pavement to commemorate their shitty existence and even shittier deaths. A mobster walk of shame. The passenger door of the van slams shut and the engine starts. I aim for the tires and click. Nothing happens. I slap the gun

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and try again. Just a click that I know is there but can’t hear over the ringing in my ears. Fucking Ninja Assassin. What kind of hitman only keeps four bullets in his gun? “A good one,” Ichiro would say. “A true hitman only needs one bullet.” I slip the gun back in my pants and haul ass to the departing SUV as the hot steel barrel gives me that sweet burn on my lower back. Sara must be in the vehicle. There’s no other reason why six Russian mobsters would be outside a University in the early morning. Unless they’re stealing lunch money but if I had to bet I would say that the sweet piece of ass I had last night is tied and blindfolded in the back of the truck. Silly Russians. Don’t they know that tying and blindfolding her is my job?

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The tires squeak as the big blue beast kicks away from the curb. I sprint after it down the sidewalk. Even I can’t outrun an eight cylinder piston engine but they’re bound to stop sooner or later in the chaos that is the downtown morning commute. I grit my teeth and run like I’m a lion chasing down a gazelle. My throat is burning after the third block, my head is dizzy after the fifth and I’m good to go with a second wind as I pass the sixth. Construction up ahead. I see the SUV stuck in a mess of honking cars. They’re trying to get into the oncoming lane to speed around it but the office monkeys in their penguin suits are even more aggressive than them, honking and throwing up middle fingers out their windows as they pass. I hop onto the road and dart to the SUV, heading for the passenger’s door. This would be much easier with more bullets. Fucking Ichiro.

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I open the door and take the Russian sitting in the passenger’s seat by surprise. He screams like a little girl when he sees me. I punch him in the throat and lean into the car. He opens the glove compartment and tries to reach for the gun inside but I slam it closed and punch him in his round stomach. He grabs me and pulls me into the truck, smothering me in his fleshy, hairy arms. He’s a smaller, beefier guy but strong. Whereas my body looks like it’s carved out of granite his looks like it’s molded out of PlayDoh. So his bear-like strength takes me by surprise. His arm snakes around my neck and he squeezes. I punch his ribs with both fists until my knuckles get sore and my vision starts to cloud. He’s squeezing my neck hard, cutting off the circulation of blood to my brain. I haven’t taken a breath in a while. A little too long actually.

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He never lets up on his choke hold and I’m going to go unconscious if I don’t do something soon. My punches are becoming weaker and weaker until I’m doing more tickling than hurting with them. My hands drop down and I can literally hear Ichiro laughing in my head. He would have killed them all and been on his way to get a frozen yogurt by now if he was in my shoes. My hand falls in the plastic console between the seats and the tip of my finger touches something round. A wooden pencil. I grab it and use my last whisper of a breath to sink it into his gut. He screams and releases his hold on my neck. I take the most glorious breath of my life while I yank the pencil out and sink it into the jugular vein in his neck. His eyes go as wide as hamburgers and he clutches his wound. He spits up blood as his neck turns into a bloody geyser.

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The driver sees that and runs out of the parked truck. I open the glove compartment, grab the gun, lean out the driver’s window and drop him in the street with a head shot. “What a fucking morning,” I mutter to myself as I kick the dead fucker out of the passenger seat and onto the street. “I haven’t even had a morning piss yet, let alone a coffee.” I close both doors and climb over the blood splattered console into the driver’s seat, buckling my seatbelt, because well, safety first. “You back there Candy?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at the curvy body that I fucked the shit out of last night. She says something but it comes out muffled with the black nylon bag over her head. My ears are still ringing from the gun anyways and I have a splitting headache now that every threat in my immediate vicinity is now dead.

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I throw the SUV into drive, wave at the horrified drivers watching me on their way to their cubicles and do a U-turn. I squeeze the steering wheel and grind my teeth as I drive. I just had a shootout in the middle of a downtown street in broad daylight with the Russian mob. Carmen and the Bratva Russians are both going to be salivating for my head, the police are going to want to have a little chat and I’m stuck with this spoiled rich girl that I can’t stop thinking about. Not to mention I have a Ninja Assassin hunting me down. And today was going to be such a good day…

eight Colton I’m finally out of the city driving down the highway in the opposite way of the morning traffic. I rummage through the glove compartment and middle console looking for weapons, food, anything. My hand wraps around a pack of cigarettes and I let out a sigh. I quit years ago but I need one badly now. I open the pack, put it to my dry lips and slide a cigarette out. I feel light and giddy like someone waiting to see an old friend. I look around for a lighter as I smile in anticipation of the glorious smoke about to stuff my lungs. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

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No lighter. I toss the cigarettes out the window in a fit of rage and punch the steering wheel. “Fuck!” Sara starts stirring in the back. She’s been so quiet that I almost forgot about her. She’s lying on the floor of the car with her hands and feet tied up with duct tape. I lean back and pull off the black, nylon hood covering her face. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are bulging. “What happened?” she asks with a gasp. “I rescued you,” I say sitting up straight in my seat. “You’re welcome,” I finally say after waiting for a ‘thank you’ that doesn’t come. “Where are my manners?” she asks, rolling her eyes. “Thank you so much for kidnapping me and almost getting me killed.” “I’m trying to bring you back to your father,” I explain. “Exactly. Kidnapping.”

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“What do you think is going to happen if I let you go?” I ask. “Those Russians that tied you up are going to come back and do it again. Do you have any idea what they would do to the daughter of their enemy?” “I’ll go to the police,” she says. I let out a laugh. “The Bratva pay the police off sweetheart. This is the real world, not some Ivy League school. They’ll hand you right over to them.” She doesn’t have anything to say to that. “I’m taking you back to your father.” “I’m not going back there,” she says with a finality in her voice that makes me wish that I found a lighter for that cigarette. “Well, then I guess you’re going to stay tied up for the rest of the drive.” “If you take me back there I’ll tell my dad that you kidnapped and raped me,” she warns.

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I sigh in exasperation. “He’s not going to believe that.” I hope. “He will when I take a rape kit and they find your semen in me.” This fucking girl. I should have fucked that drunk blond instead. I tap the gas pedal with my foot as I curse myself for taking the nylon bag off her head. “That’s if we don’t get stopped by the police first,” she goes on. “What do you think the cops will do if they find a tied up girl in this blood-soaked, stolen vehicle, again, with your semen in me?” I squeeze the steering wheel and seriously consider just parking on the side of the highway and walking back to New York and leaving this mess behind me. How do I always get myself into these messes? As badly as I want this shit over with, I have to lay low for a few days. I’ll hole up in a motel in a small, secluded town, call Carmen

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and explain the situation to him and hope that he can calm down enough to call off the hit on my head. I’ll have to bring the princess with me. There’s no other option. “You’re so fucked,” she gloats, seeming to relish my perilous situation. “Who do you think is going to catch you first? My father, the Russians or the police? Which one would you prefer? I know it’s hard. It’s like choosing to get eaten by a shark, a lion or a bear.” “Don’t forget the dragon,” I mumble, remembering how Ichiro got away on the bicycle. He never stops until his job is done. “You got me into this mess,” she says, her voice rising. “I’m going to love watching my father handle you. You’ll never-” She shuts up when I pull over, grab the black nylon bag and stuff it back over her head. I lean back in my seat and exhale slowly. Ahhhh fucking silence.

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nine Sara My arms are as numb as a zombie’s when the car finally comes to a stop. The Russian goons had yanked my wrists behind my back in an awkward position and tied them together painfully tight. Colton thankfully removed the mask an hour ago if I promised not to say, and I quote, ‘one fucking word.’ He turns around and I grunt in frustration at finding him so sexy. Textbook Stockholm Syndrome, but instead of wanting to just please my captor I want to fuck his brains out. The behavioral psychologists at Yale would have a field day with me. “Stay here,” Colton says. “I’m checking into a motel. If you’re good I’ll untie you.” He

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smirks. “And if you’re really good I’ll tie you to the headboard when we get inside.” “I’d rather stay in the trunk,” I respond trying to ignore the heat swelling between my legs at the image. “But seriously,” he says glancing out the windshield and looking around, “I’ll get you something to eat. You can have a shower.” And wash away his kisses from last night that still linger on my skin? I feel strangely sad at the thought. On one hand I want this guy out of my life but on the other hand, he fucked me harder than I thought possible. He’s sexy as hell and he killed, numerous men, for me. Now that’s fucking sexy as much as I hate to admit it. He opens the door, pauses and turns back to where I’m lying on the floor of the truck.

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“Remember Candy…” he places his finger to his delicious lips and makes a soft shhh sound. He shuts the door and I try to get up to see out the window but I collapse back to the floor on my numb limbs. They tied me up too tight. I think of screaming but decide against it. That shower and food sound too good right now. Not to mention sharing a bed with my sexy captor. I try to go over the morning events in my head again but the events of last night keep creeping back in. I can still feel Colton’s cock tracing my lips before it slid into my mouth. I can still feel his dick as it shuddered deep inside me, filling me with his hot warmth. Just thinking about him is getting me wet. I have a hungry urge to feel him between my thighs again. “Smarten up,” I whisper to myself when my fantasies start to take over. “This guy has you kidnapped for fuck’s sake.”

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I still have no clue what’s going on. My father told me to go with that Japanese guy who tried to kill me, Russian mobsters are after me for some unknown reason and then there’s Colton. I’m still wondering how he fits into all of this. He says that he wants to bring me back to my dad but my dad said not to go with him. He rescued me only to keep me kidnapped. It doesn’t make any sense. My head aches in confusion as Colton returns. He’s holding a greasy brown bag and the smell is enough to make my stomach groan like a hungry beast. “I hope you like burgers and fries,” he says about to throw the bag on the bloody passenger’s seat. “Eww,” he says, yanking it back. “That’s not ketchup.” He starts the car and drives a short distance. I see tall trees and one phone tower whiz by the window before we stop. “Look, Sara,” he says, looking down at me. “In all seriousness, I want to help you.

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There’s a lot of bad guys after you and all I want is to clear things up with your father and bring you back to him. Where he can protect you.” I hiss out a frustrated breath. “What the fuck is going on?” He sighs. “Let’s go eat. I’ll tell you all about it.” Colton unties my wrists and it is excruciatingly painful to move my arms. “Ow,” I whine as he unties my feet. I promise him that I won’t try to run away or make a scene. “I’m not running away from those French fries,” I joke. “I’m starving.” I stretch out when I hit the pavement. “Where are we?” I ask. I can hear the highway in the distance but there’s nothing else around besides the shitty motel across the parking lot from of us. Every window has faded blue curtains drawn closed by the scumbag tenants inside, hiding whatever undesirable thing they’re doing.

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Colton opens the trunk and pulls out an old woolen blanket. He throws it over the bloody passenger seat and wipes down the dashboard with a crumpled newspaper that he found in the back. “Looks brand new,” I say, shaking my head. He grunts in response. I follow Colton across the parking lot to an orange door with peeling paint. He slides the key into the lock. “Ladies first,” he says, opening the door and waiting for me to enter. I walk inside and get hit with a damp, musty smell. The room is small with a queen size bed placed in the middle with a painting of a naked lady on the wall over the headboard. The woman’s left breast looks more square than round and if you squint she kinda looks like an orc from Lord of the Rings. I was a better painter than that before I hit puberty. It’s been two years since I’ve

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had the exhilarating feeling of running a paintbrush over an empty canvas. I wonder if I’m still as good. I dip my head into the little bathroom tucked away in the far corner with a running toilet that seems to be leaking. The rest of the motel room is in equally bad condition. “Classy,” I say as I turn the old, dusty antique lamp on that’s sitting on the mini bar beside the ancient black and white TV. I turn to Colton as he walks in. “Wow, you really know how to treat a woman.” “I showed you last night how I treat a woman,” he says with a sexy grin. His eyes dart to the bed and mine follow. “I can show you again if you’ve forgotten.” I lick my lips and strut towards him, giving him a seductive look. The corner of his lips curls up into a smile as he watches me. I part my lips and stand on my toes, bringing my face closer to his. He’s already breathing heavier.

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I snatch the brown paper bag in his hands and give him a sour look. “In your dreams,” I say as I yank the bag out of his hands. I stuff a French fry into my mouth and pull out the four burgers. “Is there a veggie burger in here? I’m a vegetarian.” Colton takes a burger from my hands. “Carnivores only.” He sits on the bed and stuffs his frustrating mouth with the dead cow’s flesh. My stomach is growling as I stare down at the mouthwatering burger. I love burgers. I only gave up meat because I felt bad for the animals not because I didn’t like the taste. “So good,” he teases as he bites into the juicy burger. A trickle of grease tumbles down his chin and my resolve breaks. “They’re already dead,” I say, making excuses for myself. My hunger weakens my resolve. I sit down on the other side of the squeaky bed and take a bite.

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It’s murderously good. It’s been four years since I took a bite of meat and all of the tofu in the world can’t compete with an old fashioned greasy burger. I sneak a peek at Colton’s ass as he walks over to turn on the TV. There’s a snow storm of wavy lines and static on the screen. He slaps the side of the television and the flimsy table that it’s bolted onto nearly topples over. “Yeah slap the shit out of it,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That’s sure to fix the intricate wiring inside.” He slaps it again and the picture clears up. I look down at my burger and shake my head as he turns around with a shit eating grin on his gorgeous face. Colton changes the channel as I reach for the iced tea that he bought for me. I gasp when I see my face staring back at me from the TV screen. It’s my passport photo.

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I look terrible. “Witnesses on the way to school said that a bag was thrown over her head,” the news reporter says, “and she was forced into the back of a navy blue SUV by a group of men.” “Congrats,” Colton says as he sits back on the bed while opening his second burger. “You’re famous.” His face pops up next. “So are you,” I fire back. He drops his hands. “Fuck.” Colton even looks sexy on his passport photo. “How did they ID me so fast?” he asks. “Fucking Carmen.” The news reporter asks the viewers to report in if they have any information on my kidnapping or the dead bodies found a few blocks away. I glance at the phone beside the bed. The cord is ripped out of the wall and the copper wires inside are splayed out like

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veins. They won’t be getting any information from me. I finish both burgers embarrassingly fast and grab three-quarters of the fries. I should split them evenly but hey, he kidnapped me. And if that doesn’t warrant me an extra handful of French fries than I don’t know what does. Colton turns the TV off when they jump to a story about a man upset that the city cut down a maple tree in his front yard. He stares down at the black screen and takes a deep breath. “This is so fucked up,” he says with his hands on his waist. “Does it usually go well when you kidnap an innocent girl?” I ask, rubbing the fry salt from my fingers into his wound. “It’s my first time,” he says turning towards me. He crosses his arms over his muscular chest and rubs the stubble on his chin.

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I give him a dirty look despite a part of me wanting to go over there and console him with a hug. “Well, there’s bound to be a learning curve.” He’s lost in thought. “What the fuck is going on?” I ask again. He still hasn’t told me anything. Colton sighs. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He walks over and sits on the bed and my fingers start to tingle with the need to touch him. I fold them in my lap instead. He winces as he lifts up his arm and looks under the bloody yellow bandage wrapped around his bicep. “Is that my tank top?” “I’ll give it back,” he says with a grin. “I saw a first aid kit in the truck. Go take a shower while I clean this up. You’ll feel better.” I’m about to argue for the sake of making his life difficult but a hot shower does

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seem nice. I agree and head into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. And for some twisted, perverted reason I don’t lock the door.

I glance in the steamy mirror and comb my fingers through my wet brown hair. That shower felt heavenly even with the cheap soap and shampoo that the motel provided. “Fuck,” I whisper to my reflection. But I’m not swearing over being kidnapped. I’m swearing because I’m stuck in this little motel room with my sexy captor and I have no makeup and no clean clothes. I can’t compete with his looks without a little cosmetic assistance. I wrap the towel around my chest and open the door just a crack.

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Colton is sitting on the bed with his brow furrowed as he sews stitches into his arm. A bead of sweat is dripping down his temple but his hand is steady despite the tremendous amount of pain he must be in. Mesmerized, I walk out of the bathroom and stand beside him to watch. He looks me up slowly from my bare feet on the carpet, past the towel wrapped around my body and up to my wet hair. “Out so soon?” he asks. “I thought you were going to wait for me.” I was, I almost say. “There wasn’t much hot water,” I answer instead. “Is that why your nipples are so hard?” he asks motioning to my breasts with his head. My hands dart to the towel over my chest and cover my breasts with a second layer. “Relax,” he says with a laugh. “I’m only kidding.”

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He hisses in pain as he pulls the needle through his tattooed arm. He wipes the blood leaking out of the wound with a cloth. “Where did you learn that?” I ask. I take advantage of his averted eyes and get an eyeful of his hard arms, big chest, skillful hands and swift fingers. I’m glad that I have a towel wrapped around me because I’m getting wetter by the second. “My mom was a nurse,” he says between grunts. I study his concentrated face as he works. His eyes are focused and narrow, his jawline cut like a diamond. He’s literally the hottest guy that I’ve ever seen. And I slept with him. And I want more. “So how did you become a killer when raised by a healer?” I ask, smiling at the irony that is his life. He looks at me with sadness in his eyes. The emotions behind them stun me.

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“I’m sorry,” I say, taking a step back. “No,” he says, shaking his head and turning back to the stitches. “It’s a valid question.” He dumps a splash of vodka onto the wound from a tiny bottle. I glance at the open mini bar beside the TV. “My mom was a single mother,” he says as he wipes down his cut and continues with the needle. “She worked long hours at the hospital when I was a teenager. We lived in a shitty part of town and she would take in patients on her days off.” “Take in patients?” I ask confused. “She wasn’t a doctor but she was as smart as any doctor in that place. She learned from watching them. She would help the people in our neighborhood who couldn’t go to the hospital.” I sit down on the bed beside him and inch closer. “Why couldn’t they go to the hospital?”

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He looks at me and shakes his head. “Not everyone grows up rich with access to private doctors,” he says. “Some had no money but most couldn’t go to the hospital for legal reasons. Cops tend to ask a lot of questions when you show up with bullet and knife wounds on your body.” “She would perform surgery? At home?” He laughs. “On our kitchen table where I ate my Lucky Charms cereal.” “That’s so…unsanitary.” He shrugged. “For the patients it was either that, die in the streets or spend hours in an ER waiting room only to go to jail afterward. We saved a lot of lives.” “You helped?” He grimaced as he pulled the needle and string up through his inflamed skin. “I was her assistant.” “So how does you becoming a hitman for the mob work into this?” I ask.

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“Well one day we took in a brother from a nearby gang who had been shot,” he says, jabbing the needle in with more force as he tells the story. “Two bullets. One in his abdomen and one in his thigh. I had to hold him down while Mom pulled them out.” “That’s horrible.” “Nah,” he says. “It was just a regular Sunday afternoon. We got him all stitched up and good to go when I went to the garbage chute to throw out the bloody rags. When I was walking back I saw four gang bangers rush out of my apartment and flee into the elevator. They had purple handkerchiefs wrapped around their arms. I ran back to my apartment and the guy who we just healed had a fresh bullet wound in his forehead. They had come back to finish him off.” “And your mom?” I ask, fidgeting with the bedspread. He shakes his head as his mouth pinches closed. “They killed her too.”

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“I’m sorry,” I whisper. My hand gets away from me and I rub my palm over his stout shoulders. He doesn’t seem to mind so I keep doing it. “After that I got a couple of guns,” he says, cutting the string with a pair of scissors. He ties the end into a knot. “And a week later every guy in the city who was wearing a purple handkerchief was dead.” I gulp as I picture him lurking through the dark city like a crazed vigilante taking his vengeance on the soulless men who killed his mother. “When you’re as proficient at killing as I am,” he explains, slipping his shirt off over his head, which makes me sit up straight. “The bad guys come to you with jobs. Years later your dad approached me to work in his organization.” Of course he did.

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Colton winces as he checks out the knife wound between his ribs. It looks nasty. He gasps as he touches it. “Are you going to be okay?” I ask. My hands are shaking as I look at his wound. He nods as he winces in pain. “Can you grab me the little bottle of Jack Daniels in there?” I rush over to the open mini bar and search through the army of little bottles. I grab the bottle of Jack and almost throw up my burgers when I see him already stitching up the wound. I hand him the bottle so he can sterilize the needle. He opens it and chugs the whiskey instead. That will work too. I watch him with hungry eyes as his skilled fingers move swiftly on his naked skin. He works quietly and quickly with an intense focus.

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I place my hand on my chest. I have a strong awareness of my heartbeat as it increases in speed. Surely he can hear it too. This man risked his life and saved me from the Russians. He got those injuries for me. The pain that he is going through now was all for me. He winces as he nears the end of the knife wound. He stops, takes a few deep breaths and presses on. I am fully aware that I’d be getting gang raped by a whole crew of Bratva mobsters right now if he didn’t risk his life to save mine. I’d much rather be here with him than, well, anywhere else. “I better get dressed,” I say as he ties off the stitches and cuts the excess string. I swallow hard and head into the bathroom before I drop my towel and assist him by sucking on his magical cock.

ten Colton I can’t stop picturing it. Olivia’s dead body on the ground, her heart still. The tiny heart in her belly stopped before it even had a chance to live. And Ichiro standing over her with a hot, smoking gun in his cool hand. I lower my head and let the scolding hot water of the shower pour down my neck, burning my skin on the way down. It’s been over five years since it all went down. Five years of pain. Five years of working with the killer and not even knowing it. Five years of wondering what could have been.

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I lift my face to the shower head and grimace as the water burns my skin. It took five years to find Olivia’s killer. I can wait a few more days to get my revenge. I have to put it aside and focus on Sara. I have to get her back to her father alive if I ever want to set foot in New York again. I shut off the water and bury the image of Olivia’s smiling face down deep where she’s lived for the past few years. It’s best not to think of her. It’s too painful. It stirs up too many emotions. And a hitman is not supposed to have any emotions. The bathroom is steamy as I step out of the shower onto the moist bathmat. I wipe the mirror with my hand and take a deep breath as I stare back at my bloodshot eyes. I’m in deep. I’ve been in over my head before but never with three different organizations out for my blood at the same time.

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The police I can handle. They’re the easy ones. I have four passports with four different names in the trunk of my car parked back near the University. All four passports have my picture in them. I can leave town, dye my hair, change my identity and no one would ever know. The Russian Bratva, or Brotherhood, are a little harder. But I am more than willing to put up a fight now that I know they were behind Olivia’s death, even if I don’t know the reason why they killed her in the first place. Carmen and Ichiro are the most problematic. I can probably smooth things over with Carmen if I show up with his daughter in mint condition. Ichiro on the other hand. He’s the one who should be worrying about me. A jolt of burning pain travels through my torso as I check the knife wound on my

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ribcage. The stitches look good. I just need some time to heal. And this is a good place to lay low and heal up for a few days before bringing Sara back to Carmen. This is an ask-no-questions kind of motel and I’m sure I’m not the first customer to come into this room bleeding from a knife wound. We have to spend at least a week here. That would give us enough time for the Russians to cool down and for the police to lower the manpower that they have looking for us. I’ll steal a car, drive her back to Carmen and try to talk my way out of eating a bullet. But I’ll be eating a lead buffet if he finds out that I fucked his little girl. And I have to admit, it would still have been worth it. I’ve never had a girl like Sara before. Ever since I took that sweet pussy I haven’t been able to take my mind off it. She was so

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tight. Her body so supple. Her tongue so eager. Maybe this week won’t be so bad after all. And if her father is already going to be upset that I fucked her once then it won’t make a huge difference if I fuck her for the rest of the week. Boner logic. Gotta love it. Just thinking of her has got my cock rock hard. I wrap the white towel around my waist and open the door, flexing my chest as I walk out. Sara is on the bed watching some crap on TV. She’s still in her towel. That’s a good sign. I walk in front of her, watching through my peripheries. She glances at the bulge of my hard cock pushing against the towel and she swallows hard. “I thought you were changing,” I say with a smirk. She doesn’t take her wide eyes off the television. “There’s some dead guy’s blood on

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my clothes and I don’t feel like putting them on. Plus you ripped up my underwear last night so thanks for that.” “Hey,” I say, standing in front of the TV. “You want to fuck a bad boy you get your panties shredded.” She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. “You should see what I have planned for that towel,” I say with a grin. She rolls her eyes again and looks down at my bulge. “I can see what you have planned.” “We’re going to be locked in here for a few days,” I say. I grab the power cord of the television and yank it out of the wall. “And we’re not going to be spending it watching TV.” She looks at me with a look of disgust but I can see the desire behind those beautiful eyes. I can see her taking quick glimpses at my abs, my chest and, of course, the huge

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rod pressing up against the cheap towel around my waist. “What are we going to be doing?” she asks, crossing her arms over the towel that’s hiding her gorgeous tits. “Let me guess, Monopoly?” “I have another game planned for you.” I hook my thumb into my towel and she stops breathing. “No,” she says shaking her head. “I don’t make love to killers.” I step towards the bed, never taking my eyes off hers. “You fucked a killer last night.” She glances at the door and then back to me. “That was before I knew you worked for my father. Before I knew you were a hitman.” I slide the towel down an inch or two, showing my toned pelvis that looks carved out of marble. Her chest is rising and falling quicker as she tries not to look. “It’s the same

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hard cock that made your toes curl last night.” “I faked it.” She looks sexy when she lies. Her face is serious but her eyes can’t fool me. I walk beside the bed, right up to her and look down at the cleavage poking out of her towel. I’m picturing what her tits would look like with my cock gliding through them. I’m so hard that my dick feels like it’s going to explode. “I was drunk last night,” she says, her voice raspier than it was before. “And you took advantage of me.” A deep laugh bursts from my throat. “I took advantage of you?” I ask. “You’re the one who came crawling back on the dance floor, begging for my cock.” She turns away. “It won’t happen again. I don’t go for guys like you.” “Who do you go for?” I ask tracing my finger up her leg. She makes a sour face but I

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can see the little hairs on her arms raising to attention. “The cheek licker?” My finger travels over her knee and down the inside of her thigh. She shifts her weight and starts breathing heavier as my finger gets closer to the towel. I sit beside her on the bed and lean into her ear. “We both know you want me to fuck you,” I whisper. “Why the charade?” She licks her lips as she stares straight ahead at the dead TV. She swallows before talking. “I saw you kill people today. You kidnapped me.” I trace a circle on the inside of her thigh and she parts her legs slightly. “That’s enough to turn most girls on.” “Not me,” she says as her chest rises and falls in heavy breaths. Her skin is flushed and she looks tense. Her mouth is saying one story but her body is saying another. She’s trying to fight the desire flowing through her veins but it’s

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starting to overpower her. Time to push it over the edge. I lean in and kiss her neck and she makes no effort to move. “Then why are you still in your towel?” I ask between kisses. She’s about to answer when I slide my hand between her legs and under the towel. Her words come out in a gasp as I feel her wetness. I use her juices as lubricant to slide my finger in circles over her clit. “Why fight it?” I ask as I kiss her neck, sending shivers down her back. “You want me to touch you. You want my hard cock in you.” “No,” she says, shaking her head despite pulling my hand towards her pussy. “I hate guys like you.” She opens her legs wider for me and grabs a fistful of sheets. Her tits look so tempting rising and falling against that towel.

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I trace her wet opening with my finger gently before plunging it inside her. She lets out a series of small moans as I stroke her slowly from the inside. Her eyes close and her body relaxes, melting on my fingers. “You can hate me all you want,” I whisper in her ear. “But this is my pussy and you’re going to come when I tell you to come.” She bites her bottom lip as her breaths become heavier. She gasps and whines as I slide another finger in and press my palm firmly against her clit. She grinds on my hand as I curl my fingers inside her and stroke her tunnel. “Tell me it’s mine,” I whisper in her ear. She has her eyes closed. The back of her head is pressed against the headboard. Her legs are spread apart. “No,” she grunts as she shakes her head. “No?” I whisper. “Colton I don’t want a-”

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She interrupts herself with a whine as I pull out of her. Her face is twisted in what looks like pain. She’s holding the back of my hand, pulling me back to the heat between her legs. I rub her clit with my finger and her body relaxes again. “Tell me you want to come,” I whisper. “Tell me you want to get fucked.” I plunge my fingers back into her pussy and she is dripping wet. “I want to…fuck me…please…I want to come,” she finally says in moans and grunts. My dick gets harder at the way she mixes up her words in her throaty voice. “Whose pussy is this?” I ask as I stroke her, drawing moans from deep inside her. “Yours,” she says, submitting to me. “It’s all yours.” Those are the words I wanted to hear. I rip the towel open around her chest and it falls to her sides, exposing her big, heaving

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tits. I’m on them in a second, engulfing her hard nipple and rolling my tongue over it. She grabs the back of my head as I switch to her other delicious tit. Her mischievous hand creeps under my towel and finds my cock. I moan on her nipple as she starts to stroke me. The towel falls on the floor where it belongs and I stand back up. She’s not just a passive observer like a lot of the boring lays I’ve had. Her body language says she’s up for anything no matter what the bullshit words coming out of her mouth say. Her hips are squirming on the bed in excitement. She looks like she’s ready to burn some energy. It’s time to see what she’s capable of. “Off the bed,” I command, and she jumps off before I can finish the sentence. Her round, full tits bounce up and down as she breathes heavily, awaiting my next order.

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I take a second to admire her naked body. Her tits are spectacular and look giant on her small frame. I’m ready to see them in HD. “You want my cock?” I ask as I sit on the bed with my back against the cold, wooden headboard. Her head nods up and down in an eager frenzy. “Alright cowgirl,” I say, gripping the base of my dick and holding it straight up. “Let’s see what you got.” A smile breaks across her face and she climbs on the bed. I grab a Magnum from the plastic bag beside the bed. Luckily they had a box at the front desk. I rip open the foil with my teeth and roll it down my rod. Sara straddles my legs and my dick burns waiting for her to engulf it in her warmth. Her pussy is spread open above my cock with the perfect little landing strip on her pelvis leading down to it, her tits are in

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my face with her hard nipples just waiting to be sucked on and she’s biting her bottom lip in anticipation. I’m about to enter heaven. She grips my shoulders with her cold hands and sinks her hips down. I guide my cock into her wet hole and let her do the rest. I’m expecting her to go slow and hesitant, like most girls do at first. I’ve got a big dick and in this position the girls are always a little reluctant to take it all in on one shot. But not her. She slides down me until I’m balls deep in her cunt. She grinds her clit on my pelvis and moans as she digs her nails into my shoulder. “Fuck yeah,” I groan as she slides back up for another go. This girl is tight. Like airfucking-tight. No wonder I’ve been thinking of her all morning. The walls of her pussy squeeze my dick and hug it like it never wants to let it go. Well, that would be just fucking fine with me.

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Her tits bounce up and down in front of my face with every drive of her hips. I want to feel them but that would ruin the magnificent view. My hands quickly win the battle with my eyes and I grab more than a handful. “God your tits,” I say, sweeping over them with my tongue as they pass my mouth. “They’re fucking flawless.” She moans as I suck on them and swirl my tongue around her firm nipple. Sara moves her hands from my shoulders to the wooden headboard behind me. Her arms are flexed and the fire in her eyes flare like I just poured gasoline on them. “Come on cowgirl,” I say gripping her hips and spurring her on. “You can do better than that.” I want to see what she’s really capable of. The bed shakes under her grip and she looks at me with a furious determination in

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her eyes. I grab her smooth ass cheeks and hold on for the ride. She increases the pace with each thrust of her hips until her ass is hitting my legs with loud, fleshy smacks. She looks down at me with an angry face and I half expect her to slap me for some reason. “That a girl,” I say as her tits bounce in front of my face and her nipples brush across my lips. I arch my hips and meet her thrusts halfway and it’s not long before we’re both grunting, groaning and screaming loud enough to wake up any late sleepers in this shitty motel. She’s fucking me hard. She’s getting it all out; releasing all her frustration and hostility on my dick. Being an asshole sure has its benefits. I love getting women all wound up. It’s so much fun when all that pent up sexual tension comes crashing down. On my cock.

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Her thrusts become almost violent and the bed bangs into the wall with every assault of her pussy. Another few minutes and we’re going to explode through the drywall into the neighbor’s room. The shitty painting tumbles off the wall and lands behind the bed with a crack. I turn to see if it’s broken when she snarls like a lioness and slams my shoulders back against the headboard and continues. Wow. She’s a keeper. Her hair is wild, her face untamed. She looks like a feral animal over me. And it’s so fucking sexy. “I’m going to come,” she growls. I grip her ass and spread her cheeks, rocking her up and down even faster. Her fingernails feel like claws as she buries them in my skin so deep that I’m sure they’ll be blood. It all pushes me closer to the edge until I’m about to fly over into the abyss with her.

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Her body tightens and she howls as her orgasm rocks through her. Her pussy clamps down around my cock and I can’t hold it any longer. I thrust my hips up and come deep inside her, filling the condom with cum. It’s blindingly intense and I clench my teeth as it rips through my body. The girl who was so quick to say no a few minutes ago is screaming in my ear and yelling “yes!” so loud that I’m sure the front desk will hear. Her nails rake down my back as the aftershocks of her orgasm pass through her body. “Fucking shit,” she groans, out of breath and wincing. She took the words right out of my mouth. My heartbeat feels like a sledgehammer against the inside of my chest. “Nice job cowgirl,” I say, smacking her ass as she climbs off me and reaches for her towel. “Fuck you,” she says.

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“I’d rather fuck you again,” I say, taking one last look at her juicy tits before she wraps her cruel towel around them. “Well that’s not going to happen.” “We’ll see,” I say with a grin. She flashes me a dirty look as she storms into the bathroom and slams the door shut. I love this cat and mouse game. But doesn’t she know that the mouse wins in the end and the pussy always gets fucked?

eleven Sara I grab a second slice of pizza and glance at Colton as he takes a sip of his beer. I touch the knot of my towel to make sure that it’s still holding tight. Colton doesn’t seem as worried. “You can put your towel back on,” I say, glancing at it hung over the back of the wooden chair like a deflated ghost. “You have to get used to my cock,” he says before taking a sip of beer. “You’re going to be seeing it a lot this week.” I roll my eyes but feel a flood of excitement flow through me. I keep catching myself stealing glances at it. Even when it’s soft it’s big and intimidating.

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I hate that I love it. That I want to whisk the pizza box off the bed and spread my legs for him again. I hate that I want to feel him push deep inside me and hear him grunt primal sounds in my ear as he claims me. I’m an intelligent, educated woman with a sharp mind and good values. I want to be with a mature, gentleman who uses his words rather than his fists. A man who would use violence as a last resort rather than the first. A quiet, humble man who respects and loves women instead of just using them as a cum dumpster. My mind wants that but all my body wants is to see how far my legs can bend behind my head as he shoves his thick cock into my willing pussy. This guy, this hitman, has seemed to have flipped a switch in me. I’ve never been the type to put sex first and now all I want to do is stay on my knees pleasuring him until

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the cheap carpet tears my knees up and leaves them a bloody mess. This place doesn’t help. This cheap motel. It feels like we’re sneaking around like we’re having an illicit affair. It feels dirty and naughty and it’s making it even hotter. He looks at me as he chews and my heart palpitates. There’s something about being locked in a room with an alpha predator that is both thrilling and strangely arousing. “What was it like growing up in the household of a crime lord?” he asks, reaching for another beer. He offers me one but I shake my head. I’m still working on the one I have now. “It was…different,” I say, taking a sip of the warm beer. “The kids at school couldn’t relate.” “I’ve seen Carmen turn the toughest thugs and enforcers into cowering mice before a roaring lion.” He looks at me with

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what can only be respect. “I can’t imagine what it was like growing up with him as a father.” I stare at my blurry reflection on the black TV screen as a searing memory comes to mind. “Once I was swimming in the pool behind our house when I was twelve. I remember I was playing on a pool noodle pretending that I was a mermaid looking for her prince. My father was sitting at the patio table with a guy. I didn’t know who he was but I remember being scared of him. He just threw off a creeper vibe.” Colton puts down his beer and gives me his full attention. “Anyways,” I continue. “I was playing by myself when my dad lunged on the guy and flipped his chair over backwards. Carmen landed on top of him and slammed his head into the concrete over and over. It made a muted slapping sound, like a baseball hitting a glove. I froze and watched as my

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dad, the guy who was supposed to carry me on his shoulders at the zoo and drive me to figure skating lessons, dragged the guy to the pool that I was swimming in and shoved his head underwater. The man was on his back so his wide eyes were staring at me through the water as the bubbles escaped his mouth.” I scratch my fingernail into the beer label as I remember the gory scene. “My father had a look in his eye as he held the man under water that I’d never seen before on him. I’ll never forget it.” The look still sends chills down my back. “I knew then that the man that I thought was my dad was an impostor. This man, the one who was holding the man’s head under the water that I was swimming in, was the real Carmen Price. My father got up but the man didn’t. He laid there and stared at me through the water with dead eyes.”

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“Sounds like Carmen,” Colton says with a sympathetic laugh. He stares at his beer and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t ever want my kids growing up in an environment like that.” My eyes dart to his. My heart feels like it’s shrinking in my tightened chest. “You have kids?” I ask, trying to sound like I don’t care. He stares at his beer bottle with narrow eyes. He swallows as his breathing becomes more rigid, more stressed. “Not really,” he says. He takes a deep breath, never taking his eyes off his thumb rubbing the beer label. “It’s a long story.” “We have time,” I say with a slight shrug. And I’m deathly curious of everything about him. I want to know it all. He finishes his beer with a long swig, even though he has about two-thirds of it left. “So what were you studying?” he asks, changing the subject.

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I want to know about his past but he doesn’t seem like a guy who likes to be pressed. There’ll be time later. We’re going to be locked in here for a while. And we can’t have sex the entire time. Or maybe we can. “Law,” I say, feeling the nausea that usually comes with talking about my schooling. My father had insisted on a law degree. I had other ideas but they weren’t considered. My future wasn’t up for debate. I mean why should I have a say in how I’m going to spend my life anyways? Colton scrunches up his face. He even looks sexy when he looks disgusted. “Of all the things you could do,” he says, shaking his head. “And you chose that?” “It’s better than killing people for a living,” I fire back. He takes it in stride. “Not really,” he says, grabbing another beer from the open box on the floor. “I put people out of their

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misery. You’ll be putting people into misery. Just shoot them in the head. It would be easier on everyone involved. Including them.” He twists his strong hand and the beer opens with a hiss. He smiles as he puts the smoking bottle to his devilishly sexy lips. “That’s your answer,” I ask, crossing my legs. “Just kill everybody without a trial. How would we know who’s guilty and who’s not.” “I’d know,” he says. “A man’s eyes will tell you everything when he has a gun to his head. I know if he’s guilty or innocent in the second before I pull the trigger.” “And if he’s innocent?” I ask. “You’ll still pull it?” He looks at me with a grin. “You don’t come across any innocent people in my line of work.” I think of my father and all of his friends; the numerous ‘uncles’ that I had

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growing up and all the shady shit they were into. “I guess you have a point there.” “So what was your first choice?” he asks, running his hand through his towel dried, brown hair. His wavy hair is tumbling over his forehead and making his bright eyes pop even more. He looked good with his hair slicked to the side last night but I like this look even better. There’s something about a man with no product in his hair that I find just irresistible. I hesitate to answer. I don’t share this part of my life with hardly anyone. “Let me guess,” he says, tapping his chin with his finger. “A teacher?” I shake my head. “I could picture you as a sexy teacher,” he says. “Want to role play? You can be my private tutor for sex ed.” “Well you definitely have a few things to learn,” I say with a grin.

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“That’s not what you were screaming an hour ago,” he says, getting that ferocity in his eyes back. “Anyone in this motel complex can attest to that.” I roll my eyes and concede. I was screaming pretty loud. “So what did you want to study?” he asks again. Why does he even care? I thought I was just another of his bimbo girls. Like the drunk blond girl at the bar who was grinding all over him. “It’s…stupid,” I say. “It’s just a bullshit childhood dream that is totally unrealistic.” My father’s exact words coming out of my mouth. I shudder as I recognize them. “A princess?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. “Not that unrealistic,” I say with a laugh. “I wanted to be an artist. A painter.”

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“Hm,” he grunts with a nod. “That sounds nice. A bit boring for my tastes. But nice.” My chest and back are tense as I wait for him to make fun of me but it never comes. He glances up at the horrid painting of the naked lady above the bed. “Can you paint better than that?” I turn and look up at it. If you squint her acrylic face looks like Voldemort. “I used to be pretty good,” I answer. “But it’s been a while since I’ve done anything.” “That’s too bad,” he says. He stands up and closes the pizza box. I watch him as he moves around the room as naked as a porn star. It was a simple response but his words echo in my head: ‘That’s too bad.’ And it is too bad. I’ve never been as happy as I was with a blank canvas, a peaceful setting before me and a paintbrush between my colorful fingers. The tart smell of the acrylic paint,

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the fresh air tickling my bare feet and the long afternoons swallowed up in creativity are all things that I miss. My father made me feel stupid for enjoying painting. ‘That will never make you rich,’ he would always say as if that was the only thing that mattered. As if I cared about money. He straight up got angry when I suggested art school over law. He had the butler throw out all of my art supplies as punishment. I hadn’t painted a piece since. I watch Colton’s toned, muscular body as he walks across the room like a panther. His strides are long and light, as if he walks on the balls of his feet ready to pounce at any moment. His chest and arms are built like a bodybuilder with round, powerful shoulders to square off his impressive frame. His tattoos snake down his arms, adding a badness to him that gets me going. He walks to the window and opens the curtains a crack while

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he surveys the parking lot. His ass is perfect. It belongs on a billboard in Time Square selling cologne. I would love to paint him. He is both an artist’s dream and an artist’s nightmare. A dream because you won’t find a hotter model but also a nightmare because he is already a masterpiece and no painter in the world, not even the greats, can do his sexy looks justice. You can capture the essence of someone in a painting but you can’t capture the way his eyes shine with intensity, the way his lips curl up in a smirk and the sexy way he moves. This Colton is one of a kind. As much as I hate to admit it. He shuts the curtains and turns back to me with a mischievous look on his face. I’ve only known him for a few hours but I already know that look. My body reacts with a swell of heat between my legs. I’m already wet before he arrives in front of me with his dick hardening.

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I reach out and stroke his shaft to help him along. I let out a moan as he hardens completely in my hand. “That’s a good little girl,” he says, brushing my hair back behind my ear as I take him in my mouth. It drives me nuts that I react this way. He walks over to get his dick sucked and I just comply as easily as a whore. I jump on his cock without so much as a please uttered my way. But I absolutely love it. I roll my tongue along the tip of his cock, moaning as I taste the salty sweetness of his pre-come. I grip the base and take him in further, opening my throat for his wide dick. I suck his cock harder than I ever have before, drawing gasps and hisses of breath from his throat. I rake my hand down his cut abs as I leave no part of his cock untouched by my tongue.

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I gasp for air as I pull him out of my mouth and give him a slow, long lick up the underside of his cock. He shudders and whispers my name, asking for more. Colton belongs to my father’s world. The world I hate and the world I tried to leave behind. But being with him feels so natural. It feels so good. But I’m not sure if it’s Colton that makes me feel this way or his magical cock. But right now I don’t really give a fuck either way. I take him back in my mouth and he wraps his big hands around the back of my head. He pushes his cock into me with a little force that I’m not used to. A sharp whine escapes my chest as my throat burns from his impressive size. My pussy clenches at the roughness and I open my throat the best I can and let him continue.

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He fucks my face as I grab his ass. My towel is on the floor and I’m fully exposed. I don’t even know when that came off. “On your knees sweetheart,” he says between grunts. “And open up.” I jump off the bed and land on my knees. The rough carpet scratches but I don’t care. I look up at him and open my mouth as wide as I can as I rub my clit in anticipation of his hot seed. He stands over me sliding his hand over his long cock, using my saliva as lubricant. The tip of his cock taps the bottom of my lip as he jerks off over my open mouth. The sight of him over me with his big dick in my face about to burst is so erotic. It’s so hot that I’m about to come on my fingers. Colton’s grunts and breaths come out louder as his arms flex and tighten. He hisses a breath as long streams of warm cum shoot onto my tongue and open mouth.

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“Fuck,” he moans as he shakes the last drops of his seed onto my eager tongue. I wait for him to finish, I don’t want to miss one drop, before I close my mouth and swallow his warmth. The feeling of his seed traveling down my throat is enough to set me off. It’s sudden and unexpected and so fucking good. I close my eyes as the first wave of pleasure hits me. I hold in a burning scream as a heated bliss overtakes every sensation in my body. It’s blinding and deafening as it overwhelms me. I open my eyes slowly as it subsides and I come back from this insane high. My legs are shaking on the scratchy, cigarette-burned carpet and my heart is pounding. I let out a long breath and shake my head, trying to clear the last hazy remnants of my orgasm. I pick up the towel and wrap it around my body even though Colton has already seen every inch of me.

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I sit on the bed and try to slow down my breathing as Colton walks into the bathroom and takes a piss. I should be thinking of a way to escape this motel room. I should be thinking of all the danger that I’m in. I should be thinking of how my life has been ruined, my perfect attendance at University now destroyed. I should be thinking of all of these things. But I’m not. All I can think about is how long until we can do that again.

twelve Sara Four days pass in a haze of foreplay and fucking. We order takeout for every meal and I’m so sick of French fries that I get nauseous whenever I open up the brown bag. Colton slips the cash under the door and tells the delivery man to leave it on the pavement. “Was that a hundred dollar bill?” I ask as I hear the guy peel away before we can go out and ask for change back. Colton just shrugs as he joins me on the bed. I hand him a souvlaki pita and I take out the veggie pita for myself. I open the salad that I ordered and turn my nose up. “Why do takeout places think that a salad is comprised of iceberg lettuce and one slice of a yellow tomato?” It’s only lettuce but it’s

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making my stomach turn. I almost jump up to run to the bathroom but it passes quickly. Colton turns on the TV and searches for a news station. We’ve been following the drama of my disappearance all week. Apparently someone saw me get dragged into the trunk of a car in Washington and the police have focused their search up there. What people will make up for fifteen seconds of fame. The whole news segment only takes about thirty seconds, which is a good sign. People are already sick of hearing about my disappearance and are moving onto other stories. I’m secretly filled with sadness that it’s going to come to an end soon. I’ve loved the time I’ve spent here with Colton. There I said it. I’m finally willing to admit it. I kinda like the guy.

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It’s more than just sex but of course there’s that too. I’ve been fucked on every piece of furniture in here, in every possible position. My pussy curves to the shape of Colton’s magical cock. He’s arrogant and frustrating but he looks at me differently than he did when we first walked through the door. There’s a softness in his eyes when he looks at me between our rough bouts of sex. It may sound crazy but I think that he kinda likes me too. Really, we could have left days ago but I think Colton is dragging it out. He knows as well as I do that as soon as he turns me over to my father we’ll never see each other again. And neither of us seem to want that. “What’s the matter?” he asks, when he sees that I haven’t touched my wrap. “My stomach again,” I say, covering my mouth with my fist to hide a burp. All of this stress has gotten my stomach in knots. But it’s funny because I don’t feel stressed.

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“Want me to order you something else?” he asks. He sits beside me on the bed and rubs my bare back. Our towels are hung up side by side in the bathroom. I don’t even notice our nakedness anymore. I shake my head. “I can’t eat anything,” I say, wrapping up my pita for later. “It’s almost over,” he says, trying to reassure me. “You’ll be home soon.” But that’s the problem. I don’t want it to be over as much as I hate to admit it. And this cramped motel room feels more like home than my dad’s place ever will. “And what about you?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer. I want to stay absorbed in my fantasy as long as I can. “I have some unfinished business,” he says, turning towards the window. I take a deep breath. “Does it have to do with your kids?” I ask, bringing up something that has been burning my

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curiosity since he shut me down at the beginning of the week. He looks at me in shock and then his face softens. He takes a deep breath and turns off the TV. “I don’t have any kids,” he says. I exhale in relief but feel horrible when I see the sadness in his brown eyes. I can tell that he’s hiding something behind them. Something painful. “Want to talk about it?” I whisper. He shakes his lowered head and pinches the bridge of his nose between his eyes. “I was going to have a kid,” he says after a moment of silence. “My fiancee was six months pregnant with my child. A little boy.” I get chills from the tension in his voice. Something tells me that this isn’t going to have a happy ending. “I was working for your father and starting to question what I was doing now

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that I had a family on the way.” He runs his hand through his hair and I glance at the two sets of initials tattooed on his forearm. I wonder if that’s all that’s left of them. “Olivia didn’t think that a child should be raised in that kind of environment. She didn’t want her son’s father to be a hitman.” The room is deafly quiet as I hang on his every word. Only the sloshing of the constantly running toilet breaks the silence. He takes a deep breath and continues. “I had promised Carmen two more jobs and then I was out. I had enough money for a four-bedroom house in the suburbs and a minivan. Fuck, I thought I could be that guy. Hang out with the other dorky dads. I was even excited,” he says with a chuckle. “I was just really excited to have a son. To have a child.” His eyes gloss over as he stares at the wall, not really seeing the peeling wallpaper

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in front of him but the sad memories of his past. “What happened?” I ask in a whisper. He squeezes his hand into a fist beside him. “She was shot in the stomach and in the head. A bullet for each of them.” A sudden coldness hits my core. His words are chilling. “I killed a lot of men after that day,” he says, staring into nothingness. “Carmen told me that it was the Russian Bratva. I put a bullet in the head of every member that I thought it could have been. But I missed one.” “Who?” I ask, leaning towards him. “The Ninja Assassin,” he whispers. “Ichiro. The guy who showed up at your dorm room.” “He killed her?” Colton nods. “He was stupid enough to tell me. He thought he had me stopped dead and was trying to rub it in before rubbing my

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life out.” His breaths come out in angry spurts. “I thought he worked for my dad?” I ask confused. “He was working for the Russians at the time and defected to come work for Carmen shortly after. Carmen had promised that Ichiro had nothing to do with it. He told me that he was in Okinawa at the time visiting family.” He shakes his head in anger. “And I believed him.” “Do you think that my father had something to do with it?” A quiver shoots through my stomach. I want to believe that he didn’t but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. “That’s what I would like to ask him,” he says. I snuggle up to him and he wraps his warm muscular arms around me. “I’m sorry,” I say kissing the inside of his bicep. “That’s a horrible story.”

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He kisses the top of my head. “Let’s hope the good guy wins in the end.”

I wake up the next morning to the sounds of thuds and hisses of breath. I sit up in a panic when I feel the other side of the bed empty. “Good morning,” Colton grunts from out of sight. I look over the bed and smile as I see him doing push-ups. His back is flexed and his bare ass is looking perfect as usual. I should be working out too. I glance down at my stomach. It’s not as flat as it was last week. All of this fast food is starting to catch up with me, even with the sex marathons to work it off.

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He counts three more until he gets to a hundred and then stands up. His arms and chest are jacked. I lick my dry lips as I take my time admiring the view in front of me. It’s been seven hours since we last fucked and I’m already itching for some more. “We need some supplies,” he says. “We’re running short.” I glance to the open box of Magnums on the night table. Crap. Don’t tell me we’re out. I was really hoping for a morning screw. “What do we need?” I ask. “Soap, toothpaste and,” he walks to the table and turns over the empty box, “condoms.” I drop my head and sigh. “They sell some at the front desk,” he says. “I can go but-” he glances at his clothes. “But your clothes look like they’re out of a scene from Dexter,” I say, finishing his sentence for him. They’re covered in dried blood. Mine aren’t nearly as bad. “I’ll go.”

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He crosses his arms and looks at me with narrow eyes. “If you let me,” I say with a gulp. “How can I be sure you’ll come back?” he asks. “I don’t know,” I say with a mischievous smile. “I might find a bigger cock out there and shack up with him instead.” He smiles his devilish smile. “Good luck finding that.” As much as I hate to admit it, Colton is right. I could spend the next year searching through porn sets for a bigger cock and show up empty handed. He looks down at me lying on the bed. “You’ll be back,” he says with so much assurance that it irks me. “But just in case…” He walks to the end of the bed and crawls under the bed sheet. “What are you doing?” I ask with a laugh. His stubble is tickling my legs. “Colton we haven’t even eaten brea-”

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My words vanish in my throat as he spreads my legs wide and runs his tongue along my sex in one long, blissful sweep. “Colton,” I whisper as he licks me again. His thumb finds my clit and he rubs it in small controlled circles, turning my legs to Play-Doh. I feel a tinge of nervousness. It’s not the first time this week that his tongue has been on me but I still feel self-conscious. But as he groans on my folds and stretches my legs apart the feeling dissipates. I give over to the sensation. Nobody I’ve ever been with uses their tongue like Colton does. He’s a natural at this. A real master. I told him that he should write an instructional manual. He runs his tongue lightly over my opening and I let out a shuddery breath. He’s an expert at getting me into a sex crazed frenzy and I feel it coming on fast.

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Moans escape my mouth and I can’t seem to find any words anymore. I can barely swallow. All I can focus on is the electrifying touch of his firm tongue, his hot breath on my inner thigh, his nose grazing my clit. My legs are already trembling when he plunges his tongue deep inside me making my back arch up like a bridge. “You’re so wet,” he says as he slides a finger into my tunnel. I can’t help it. He always gets me so wet. He yanks the blankets off of us and looks up at me with his lips and chin covered in my juices. “Fuck your pussy tastes like heaven. I could lap it up all day.” A flood of heat rushes through my body at his lewd words. He’s back on me at once, covering my pussy with his mouth, eating me out in a passionate frenzy. I grab a fistful of sheets as I ride his face, writhing on his mouth. The strokes of

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his tongue are quick and controlled, slow and forceful. Every time he flicks it over my clit, my breath seizes, my heart pounds and my lips part for words that don’t come. He grabs my ass cheeks with his strong hands and pulls me hard against his mouth. His tongue presses deep inside me and a scream escapes my dry lips. My hand is on my breast, squeezing and kneading it as my hips grind on his mouth. He’s bringing me closer and closer, higher and higher. He brushes his finger over my asshole making me gasp while he devours me. His tongue traces my folds, flicks my clit, teases my hole and thrusts inside me. It’s everywhere. And it feels so fucking good. Colton has his tongue deep in my pussy as one finger massages my clit and another is pressed firm against my asshole. I’m ready for his cock. I’m ready to come.

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It comes on fast; sudden and unexpected. I brace myself for the waves of pleasure about to rack my body when he lifts his head up. “What?” I ask in a panic. My head is hazy. I’m focused on my throbbing pussy and impending orgasm that never came. My sex feels empty now, void of his soft tongue. My legs are shaking as I look up at him in frustration. He grins as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. He’s sitting on the bed. His dick is hard. “What the fuck?” I ask again with a tightness in my chest. I close my legs, suddenly feeling very exposed spread open in front of him in the broad daylight. “You come back and I’ll finish you off,” he says. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say, slamming the back of my head onto the pillow. I was so close. It feels like torture to

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be on the brink of orgasm and then cruelly yanked back to reality. He shakes his head as he stands up and walks to his wallet. He pulls out a bill and throws it on the bed. “The faster you move that sweet little ass of yours the faster my tongue will be buried in it once again.” “You’re an asshole,” I say as I climb out of bed on my shaky legs. I scoop up my clothes as he looks out the window and laughs. I slip my jeans on as my head is still swirling. It feels weird to have clothes on. I’ve been naked for days. My shirt feels like it’s choking me even though it’s a V-neck. I snatch the money off the bed and give Colton a dirty look as I head to the door, smiling as soon as I have my back to him. “My tongue and my cock will be waiting for you,” he says with a grin. “Hurry back.”

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“You’re not getting anything when I come back,” I say as I open the door. We both know it’s an empty threat. We’ll be fucking all day. The bright sun is painful on my eyes. We’ve been holed up in our sex room for so long with the curtains closed that my eyes have become adjusted to the darkness. I walk to the front desk with my hand shielding my face like a vampire. I have to give Colton some credit. He definitely knows how to get what he wants. There’s no way that I would try to escape with my pussy aching like it is right now. I would go back even if it meant never seeing daylight again. A bell rings as I open the door to the front desk and shop. I hunch my shoulders up, letting my hair fall over my face. I really don’t want anyone to recognize me, as insane as that sounds. I’m actually enjoying my stay with my sexy captor.

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The guy behind the counter glances at me for half a second and mutters a greeting before turning back to the small TV beside the cash register. I turn and head to the back of the store keeping my head low and my eyes on the dusty cans of food. The store smells like a window hasn’t been opened in over a decade. I head for the small selection of body care products and grab some shampoo, body wash, toothpaste and two boxes of Magnum condoms. “Crap,” I mumble to myself as I pass the tampons. I take a box. My period is going to be coming soon to ruin our fun. Actually, I’m already supposed to have it. Thank God that I’m late. This week wouldn’t nearly have been as fun if it was shark week. I stand on my tippy toes and peek over the shelves at the guy sitting beside the cash. He looks absorbed in his TV. He has a nose ring, a mullet and a My Little Pony t-shirt

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on. I can’t tell if he’s wearing it sarcastically or not. I comb my hair into my face with my fingers, take a deep breath and head over. Hopefully, he won’t recognize me as the poor, innocent girl who was abducted from Yale University by a group of mobsters. I’d hate for my kidnapping to be over so soon. He glances up as I approach the counter and drop the items in front of him. He looks at the two boxes of Magnums and raises an eyebrow. “It’s my husbands birthday and you didn’t have any balloons so,” I say, rubbing my arm nervously. “Mmm hmm,” he says, as he scans them and makes them disappear in a plastic bag. The TV behind him goes to commercial and I freeze as my face appears on the screen looking back at me like a ghost. Crap!

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“It’s been five days since Yale University student, Sara Price, was seen being thrown into a navy blue SUV,” the voice from the TV says. “Is there any hiking around here?” I ask in a panic, trying to talk over the voice. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Hiking?” he asks with his pierced nose turned up. “Just along the highway. It’s pretty industrial around here.” I try to think of something else to say in a hurry but I’m too slow. He turns to the TV and does a double take when he sees my picture looking back at him on the screen. He slowly turns back to me and looks at me with squinted eyes. “She looks like you,” he says. His jaw hangs open showing off the large gap between his two front teeth. I shrug and push the shampoo closer to him. “A lot of people look like me,” I say.

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He turns back towards the TV. “Yeah but that looks a lot like you.” He eyes me suspiciously. I glance at the exit. The guy stands up from his chair and looks out the window, across the parking lot to Colton’s new SUV parked in the distance. He turns back to me with wide eyes. “So I’ll just pay cash,” I say dropping the crisp one hundred dollar bill onto the counter. “You can keep the change.” He never takes his eyes off me. Even when I slide the bill towards him and urge him to take it. He glances at the phone and I bite my bottom lip. I’m not thinking clearly. I should want to get out of this fucked up situation but I don’t. I want to stay with Colton in that room forever. Well, maybe not forever but for at least the near future. He leans forward and narrows his eyes. “Are you okay?” he whispers even though we’re the only two people in the empty shop.

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I nod. “Just want to buy some shampoo is all,” I say, picking up the items and putting them in the bag myself. “What’s your name?” he asks. “Candy,” I answer. Crap. That sounds way to made up. “Last name,” he asks quickly. “Uhh…Land,” I answer, and nearly slap my forehead. I’ve never been very good at lying on the spot. “Your name is Candy Land?” he asks. I yank the bag off the counter and give him a dirty look. “That’s Misses Candy Land to you.” I storm out of the shop leaving the untouched hundred dollar bill on the counter. The bell rings as I open the door, making me nearly jump out of my skin. I turn the corner, wait seven seconds and then slowly peek around the corner into the window. The guy is on the phone talking fast with animated hands.

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Crap! I run back to our room and try the handle. It’s locked. I bang my fist on the door and Colton doesn’t answer. “Colton!” I yell. This is no time for one of his fucking games. I knock on the window and try to look in but the curtains are drawn shut. “Fuck Colton open up,” I scream, assaulting the orange door with my fists and feet. The police are going to be here any minute. Pain shoots through my belly and I fall to my knees, clutching my stomach in pain. The bag falls to the pavement and my box of tampons roll out. I’ve had period cramps before but nothing like this. “What the fuck,” I mumble through gritted teeth as another wave of pain comes rolling through. I’m breathing heavily and have to hold my breath to hear the sound in the distance: Police sirens. And they’re getting louder.

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Crap. I force myself up to my feet despite the severe cramps in my stomach and bang on the door again. “Open up Colton! We have to go! Now!” He never answers. He just leaves me there as the sirens become deafening and the red and blue lights appear, their reflections chasing each other across the brick exterior of the motel. He left me. Without so much as a goodbye. I thought it was more than just sex. I’m so stupid. I fall to the floor with another round of cramps. Tears swell up in my eyes as I hear a car door open and an officer call out. My lungs start to constrict, making it hard to breathe. I try to take deep breaths but I feel broken inside. Why would he leave?

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The pain in my stomach is bad. But it’s nothing at all compared to the pain of my heart breaking.

thirteen Colton My dick is still rock hard as I watch Sara’s jeans hug her tight ass as she walks away. That girl is spectacular. I can still taste her sweetness on my lips. I lift my fingers to my nose and smell the arousing scent of her pussy. It was torture to let her go just as we were both getting worked up but I had to prove a point. That pussy is mine. I’m in control. She disappears from my view and I can only hope that she’s getting the stuff and going to come right back. I bite my fingernails, something I haven’t done in years, as an empty feeling enters the pit of my stomach. I’m actually

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nervous. Me. A hitman. Nervous over some girl. “You’re going soft Colt,” I whisper to myself as I strain my neck to try and see her again. I curse and drop the curtain when I can’t. It feels weird not having her here. The room feels lacking without her joyful presence. “Fuck,” I say, dropping my hands as I come to a realization. I actually miss her. Not good. I haven’t had a girlfriend, or been with a woman for longer than two hours at a time, since Olivia. I have to admit. It’s kinda nice. I don’t even want to think about how this complicates the situation that I’ve been avoiding for the past five days. I can’t stay holed up in here forever. There are lots of angry people that have to be dealt with. But another day or two with Sara won’t change much.

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I spring up from the bed and peek out the window to see if she’s returning when a movement catches my eye near the SUV that I should have abandoned in the forest days ago. Shit. There’s a man looking under the car. I can’t see his face but my blood chills when I recognize his swift movements. Only one guy on the planet moves like that. He stands up and I see his lizard face. Fucking Ninja Assassin. I grab my jeans that are stained red with Russian blood and pull on my shirt. I open the drawer of the nightstand and pull out Ichiro’s golden gun. I really should have gotten some bullets and abandoned the truck. This girl has really thrown me off my game. I slip the gun into the waistband of my jeans, pull on my shoes and open the door quietly.

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He’s snooping behind the SUV and I take the opportunity to sprint from car to car, making sure to keep hidden from his line of sight. My palms are sweaty as my pulse jacks up at seeing the dead man who killed my fiancee and unborn child. I try to control my breath and keep my muscles from quivering. I have to remember who I’m dealing with. As much as I want to charge over there and see what the inside of his skull looks like I have to take it slow. I need a plan or I’ll be the one with the split skull. I lean against the car and peer up through the window. Ichiro is eying the shop at the front desk with narrow eyes. I follow his line of vision and see Sara speaking with the guy behind the counter. Something in me snaps and I leap out of my hiding spot with a war cry so loud that it surprises me just as much as him.

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Ichiro jerks his head towards me as I rush at him with every cell in my body on fire. I want to make him feel more pain than anyone has ever felt before. I want him begging for me to murder him. I want to feel his life leaving his body under my hands. He pulls out a switchblade and pops the knife out just as I collide into his body with my shoulder. I played two years of high school football and I use what I learned to shove my body into his, knocking the wind out of him and launching him into the air. I bring my full weight down on him and more and he lets out a grunt of air as his back slams into the concrete parking lot. The knife clangs on the ground and slides out of reach. My hands close around his neck and I squeeze. Hard. I squeeze his neck until my forearms are burning and my breath comes out in spurts. I squeeze as I picture Olivia’s face and the life he took away from me. I squeeze for my unborn child and

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the seed that he stomped out before it could ever show its beautiful colors. And I squeeze for Sara. I squeeze because I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want him to take her away from me. Ichiro’s eyes are wide and his skin is turning a brilliant shade of blue. He opens his mouth like a fish out of water as he seeks the air that my grip is holding back from him. In a desperate fit he goes for my eyes. He claws at them and I’m forced to let go and cover up if I ever want to see Sara’s beautiful tits and tight ass again. An elbow comes out of nowhere and lands on the knife wound on my ribs. The inflamed wound was healing fine before but that fucking hurt. The pain shoots straight to my head and I fall off of him, clutching my ribs as my butt hits the ground. Ichiro climbs to his feet but he’s slow as he tries to catch up on the air that I denied

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him. He takes deep, heavy breaths like a drowning man who was just yanked out of the water. I pull out his golden gun from my pants and point it at his open mouth. His eyes thin as he waits for my next move. The gun’s chamber is empty but even an empty gun is a weapon. I bring the butt of the handle down on his nose and his skin splits open with a crunch. Blood spatters out and sprays on the pavement. You’d swear that I hit him with a feather the way he remained so expressionless. “Who ordered the hit Ichiro?” I ask, pointing the gun at his bloody mess of a face. He turns to the side and spits a glob of blood onto the ground. “You know me better than that,” he says with a smug look. “And you know me better than that,” I answer, squeezing the handle of the gun so hard that my knuckles turn white. “You

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know that I’m getting the answer one way or the other.” “You talk a big game for a man with no more bullets,” he says with a smile. I toss the useless weapon behind me and charge him again. This time he’s ready and he dodges out of the way and lands a hard kick in my stomach. I eat the kick and grab onto his ankle, locking onto it like a crocodile, and turn, bringing him back down to the ground. Ichiro is fast and ruthless and attacks from every angle. He didn’t get his deadly reputation from being a pushover. But neither did I. I unleash a fury of fists on him only stopping once in a while to throw vicious elbows to his face. I straddle his torso and squeeze his ribs with my legs like a boa constrictor. He tries to break free but he’s pinned to the ground.

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I don’t let up, landing one crushing blow after the other. The back of his head smacks into the pavement with every punch and soon his hands go limp and he stops attacking altogether. I’m breathing hard as I lean back and look at his pulverized face. I have him. He’s helpless. It’s time to wipe him off the planet and finally get my revenge. The switchblade is back by the truck, the sharp steel of the blade shining in the sunlight. I push off his chest and stand up on shaky legs. I wipe the blood off my chin with the back of my hand and stumble over to the knife. Ichiro is barely moving. I pick up the switchblade and feel a jolt of energy at being so close to avenging Olivia’s death. To avenging my child’s death.

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I graze my finger along the blade relishing in the sharpness of it when I hear sirens. Police sirens. And they’re coming in fast. “Shit.” Two cop cars are flying up the highway. I hold my breath as they approach the motel’s exit, hoping that they’re going to fly by it. “Fuck.” They both turn in. I turn back to Ichiro who’s now slowly stumbling to his car on wobbly legs. I can finish him off easily. But Sara pops into my mind freezing my feet to the ground. She’s my priority now as much as I hate to admit it. My revenge has to take a back seat to her. And it’s not because of Carmen. I can’t let her get hurt. If she gets picked up by dirty cops she’s as good as dead.

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I take one last look at Ichiro as he crashes onto his Oldsmobile and struggles to put the key in the car door. Our shit is going to have to wait. I have to save my girl. The wheels of the cop cars squeal as they swerve into the parking lot and head for the motel. I’m at the opposite end of the large parking lot when I see her. She’s kneeling down with tears streaming down her cheeks. A jolt of pain shoots through my chest as my heart nearly breaks seeing her like that. She thinks that I left her. The cops park their cars and jump out with their guns drawn. Three of them in total. Three of them with guns against me with only a switchblade. I’d take my chances at night but in the middle of the day in a wide open parking lot, I’m a sitting duck. I crouch behind the closest car and watch as they surround her and guide her

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into the police cruiser. She sits in the backseat and sees me. Her tears stop and a sad smile crosses her lips. I want to tell her that I’ll find her. I want to tell her how I feel. But I just sit there and stare as the car drives her away out of my life.

fourteen Sara The police car pulls away from the motel and turns, taking my view of Colton with it. I wipe my eyes and take one last look at the shitty motel before the officer drives the car onto the highway. It’s over now at least. As painful as it is. I’m finally free but all I can think about is if I’ll ever see Colton again. I push the thought out of my head because the answer will make me start crying again in front of these cops. I bite my fingernail as we whiz by cars on the highway. You had a little fun but what did you expect? Really.

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Colton is a hitman. There are no happy endings for girlfriends or wives of hitmen. Just ask Olivia. Still, I thought it could have ended different, as unrealistic of a notion that it is. I had chemistry with Colton that I’ve never felt before. He made me feel things and brought my body to a place that I’m afraid I’ll never return to. I just want to see him again. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” the police officer in the passenger’s seat says as he turns around. I can see my puffy eyes reflected in his dark sunglasses. He has a thick, bushy mustache with wisps of gray speckled in. “Looks like you didn’t want to be found.” My eyes fall down to my fidgeting hands in my lap. “Where are you taking me?” I ask. The driver lets out a low chuckle.

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“Are you taking me to the police station?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer. The driver looks at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes are bloodshot with dark rings under them. “Something like that,” he says in a deep voice. I look out the window and realize for the first time how fast we’re going. He’s sailing down the highway. “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice more high-pitched than normal. An ugly smile curls up under the cop’s mustache. “You talk a lot.” My stomach turns as he opens the glove compartment and pulls something out. “This is what we do to talkers.” He holds up a roll of duct tape and rips off a strip. “No,” I gasp as I try to open the door. It’s locked from the outside. He lunges at me, covering my mouth with the tape. My hands are shaking as I see

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his shirt slide up his forearm and the tattoo underneath: Two crossed hammers. They’re taking me to the Russian Bratva.

fifteen Colton I pull up to the curb and park the stolen car behind my Porsche. I managed to leave the parking lot and escape into the forest after seeing the cops drive off with Sara. I came out onto a road, walked a bit until I got to a warehouse parking lot and hot wired the first car that I reached. I step out onto the street and pop the trunk of my car. I have everything that I need in here to disappear: a bag full of clothes, hair dye, loaded guns, a bag of cash and a handful of fake passports. Everything I need to start over somewhere else. Everything I need but her. I pick up a Holland passport and flip it open to the ID page. My face is staring back

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at me with Willem Janssen stenciled in block letters beside my head. I can move to Amsterdam and start over. I flip through a Canadian passport and see myself with blond hair and a bored expression. Michael Rivers. I should pick one. There’s way too much heat on me here. I have to deal with the Russian Brotherhood, the cops, Carmen, and Ichiro, who I just let crawl away with his wretched life. “You’re a survivor,” I remind myself. I have enough money in the black bag in the back corner of the trunk to start a new life. Clean, dirty, whatever I want. A survivor would leave. A survivor would never come back. But deep down I know that I’m not going anywhere. Not without her anyway. When Olivia was killed I thought my heart had died with her. I thought that love was out of my life forever. I filled it with

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cheap sex and loose women. And now after Sara, I know that I can never go back. It hurts even more because I know that I can never have Sara. She’s too good to end up with someone like me. We had some fun, but a smart, pretty, law abiding citizen with a bright future will never end up with a low life murderer like me. But still, I can’t let her die. The gray duffel bag is heavy with clunking metal as I pull it out of the trunk. I take a look inside. There are enough guns and bullets to cause the local graveyard to overflow. And that’s good, because I’ll need them all. An image of Sara tied up as the Russians draw straws to see who gets to violate her first puts a spring in my step. I grab my bag with a folded-up suit in it, change on the street, shut the trunk and jump in the driver’s seat. I know where the Russian Bratva headquarters is located.

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I know where they’re taking her. But most importantly, I know that she is the one. And I’m going to get her back.

sixteen Sara I’m tied up again with a blindfold over my head. At least this time I can breathe. The cops, or whatever they are, blindfolded me after they covered my mouth with duct tape. I have no idea where I am. I’m sitting on a chair in darkness trying to understand the Russian words coming out of their mouths. I only understand nyet, which doesn’t really help my case. “Sara,” a soft voice says as fingers dig into the knot on the back of my blindfold. The cloth falls away from my eyes and I find myself in the back corner of a warehouse of some sort. There are boxes of cigarette cartons piled up to the high ceiling.

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“I’m sorry for this inconvenience,” the soft voice says as the large man behind it walks around to my front. He’s dressed nicer than everyone else in a three piece suit complete with the pocket watch clipped to his vest with the thin gold chain leading into the inside pocket of his jacket. He’s wearing a purple tie and sunglasses, even though it’s already pretty dark in the place. He doesn’t look at me when he talks. “Can I get you anything?” he asks gently. The driver of the cop car leans into the man’s ear and whispers something that makes him frown. “Are you trying to suffocate her?” he asks, pushing the cop away and shaking his head. He brushes his sandpaper fingertips over my face and stops when he feels the duct tape over my mouth. “So rude,” he mumbles. “Please excuse me. This may sting.”

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I stifle a scream as he rips the tape off my face. I glance at the tape in his hand to see if my lips are still on it. Fuck that hurt. “Any damage?” he asks. The cop with the bloodshot eyes leans down and examines my mouth. His coffee breath makes my stomach turn. I have an urge to spit on him but think that wouldn’t be wise. The man with the soft voice who appears to be blind seems to be nice at least. “She’s fine boss,” the cop says pulling away. “Good,” he says, nodding. “I have plans for those lips later.” Maybe not. My stomach curls and I realize how vulnerable I really am right now. I’ve always been surrounded by killers and thugs my whole life. I’ve been around the toughest of the tough but I’ve never been afraid. My father was the boss of them all and I knew none of them would touch me. I saw, that

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day in the pool, what happens to the people who cross my dad. His savage brutality kept me safe. But that is no help here. For the first time in my life, I’m on my own. “I’m Fedor,” the man says as he reaches out. I hold my breath and close my eyes as his rough, calloused hands brush down my face. His fingers linger on my lips and I feel revulsion at the taste of metal on them. “You’re beautiful Sara,” he says, running his fingers through my hair like slithering snakes. He leans in and smells a handful of my curls. I close my eyes and think of Colton. I try to ignore Fedor’s harsh cigar breath assaulting my nose, his unwelcome hands groping my hair. I focus on the tiny lines on the side of Colton’s mouth when he laughs, the soft way that he would look at me with smiling eyes and the peaceful look on his gorgeous face when he slept.

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Fedor releases me and I open my eyes, keeping them low on his shiny shoes. The cop with the mustache places a folding chair behind him and guides him down. I don’t want to be here. My head is pounding and my mouth is dry. I’m nauseous and this man’s presence in front of me is making it worse. “Look at me child,” he says as he takes his sunglasses off and tucks them into the little pocket on the front of his jacket. I slowly lift my head and jerk my head back in surprise when I see what was hiding under his glasses. Long, vicious scars are seared across his eyes. His eyelids are sealed shut, fused together forever by the acid that must have burned them. Fedor smiles. “Do you like your father’s handiwork?” he asks. My shoulders drop. I knew my father murdered people and ruined lives but I never

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thought that he’d be capable of this. Capable of torture. “It’s been over ten years since I had my last view of this world,” he says. “I wish I could say that it was of a naked lady but it was of your dad. He was holding up a pot of boiling battery acid.” I try to claw at the rope tying my hands together but it’s too tight. I’m not going anywhere. “I’ve been waiting a decade to get back at my old friend Carmen.” He reaches up and strokes his finger over my eyelids and a shiver slithers down my back. “I wonder what I can do?” I yank my head away from his vile fingers. I wish my dad had finished off the job with this guy. Maybe I’m more like him than I thought. “My dad is going to kill you if you touch me,” I yell, trying to sound braver than I feel. “You guys are the worst.”

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He shakes his head. “We’re no different than your dad. Most would say that he is worse.” I remember Colton’s story. How this man gave the order to kill his pregnant fiancee. “You guys kill kids,” I say. “Of our enemies, sure,” he says like it’s no big deal. “Your dad kills the wife and children of the men under his command.” I open my mouth to answer but nothing comes out. “Oh you didn’t know?” he asks with a chuckle. “About five years ago Carmen had a hitman under his employment. He was one of the best, if not the best, killer in the state. Maybe even the whole country. I hated that guy. He took out some of my best men.” My stomach turns at what I hope isn’t coming next. “This hitman,” he continues, “fell in love with a girl and knocked her up. He

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started to get sloppy. He was spending all of his time with her and he started to get…less motivated. And the boss didn’t like it. That’s when your daddy poached my best hitman, the famous Ninja Assassin, and brought him over to his organization. His first job was to kill the pregnant wife of the hitman under his employ.” My heartbeat slows as he says the words that I know are true. The hitman was Colton. And my dad killed the only person he loved. I have no reason to believe this psychopath holding me hostage but I do. Deep down I know that he’s telling the truth. As much as I don’t want to believe it, I know that my father is capable of this. I wouldn’t put anything past him. He was always such a piece of shit. If I ever see him again I’ll put a bullet in his chest myself.

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“That’s enough story hour,” Fedor says, standing up. The cop hands him his cane. “I’ll see you again after dinner.” He walks past me to the door, leaving me tied up to the chair. “Nobody touches her,” he says to the two cops who brought me in. I sigh in relief. “I’m going to be the first one,” he says. “I’m going to have princess for desert.”

seventeen Colton My hand is steady as the phone rings through my ear piece. That’s one thing about me. My hand is always steady. With all the messes that I get myself into I should be a nervous wreck but my hand never shakes. The ringing of the phone cuts short and raspy breathing scratches my ear. “I’ve never been called by a dead man before,” Carmen says after a moment of silence. “The police took Sara,” I say, cutting straight to the point. I have to get her back. Even if that means working with the man who’s put a hit on my head. “That means the Bratva have her.” “Fuck!” he yells, away from the receiver as he smashes something loud. “Did you call

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to gloat?” He sounds out of breath. Carmen always sounds out of breath. I squeeze the phone as I pull my car to the side of the road and kill the engine. “I’m going to save her.” “Ichiro is on it,” Carmen barks. “Come back here now and we’ll work something out.” Yeah like a bullet in the back of my head. How stupid does he think I am? “I’m going,” I say. “I don’t care if you want me dead after but I’m going.” I can hear his teeth grinding on the other line. “Are you in love with her?” he asks in a hiss. “I’m going Carmen and that’s final.” I don’t know what these feelings are. I never thought that I could love another woman after Olivia died but Sara has definitely gotten under my skin. I know that she’s

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better off without me, and I’m willing to let her go, but first I have to see her safe. “Listen to me you cocksucker,” Carmen screams. I yank my cell a good twelve inches away from my ear so my ear drum doesn’t burst. “I’d rather her be dead than end up with a man like you. She’s a Price! She’s going to grow up respected and admired. And I’ll die before I let her image be tainted by a killer for hire like you.” “As you wish Carmen.” “Is that a threat?” he asks. He smashes something else into pieces. “I’ll bring her home,” I promise. “Just stay the fuck out of my way.” “You don’t give me orders you coc-” I hang up, imagining what he’s smashing now. I toss the phone in my glove compartment and pull out my key from the ignition. The Bratva headquarters is a couple of blocks away. I’ll go the rest of the way on foot.

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As much as I hate for Carmen to succeed, he’ll get his wish. Sara is too good for me. She deserves better than a hitman. Better than a killer. I don’t want to ruin her life like I did Olivia’s. I’ll bring her home and then I’ll disappear. Forever.

The warehouse is crawling with security. I rub my thumb over the tiny bumps on the handle of my gun and count. At least seven outside and by the number of luxury cars in the parking lot there must be at least two more dozen inside. Thirty against one. It’s not a fair fight. They don’t stand a chance. I walk through the back alley to hook around and climb through a hole I spotted in

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the fence of the parking lot. I have no shortage of guns: A Beretta with a silencer screwed into the barrel in each hand, a Glock tucked into my pants behind my back and a Ruger strapped to my thigh. My adrenaline spikes as I turn the corner and head to the fence. My senses heighten as I approach the warehouse. The feel of cold metal on my lower back, the sound of four guards laughing at the punchline of a joke, the smell of cigarettes and exhaust, all get my pulse racing. A wide grin spreads across my face at being so close to a kill. I’ve never had so many targets in one night. It’s the ultimate test for the ultimate prize. And I’m definitely up for the challenge. I duck through the hole in the fence and sprint from car to car, careful to keep out of sight of the guards who are fucking around and not paying attention. Carmen would

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pistol whip his men himself if they acted as undisciplined as these clowns. The skinny one starts a new joke and the others turn in to listen. I run on the balls of my feet to the building, hitting the wall around the corner from them. I pause and listen for a break in conversation. He keeps telling the joke. They didn’t hear me. “So the girl shows her tits and he says…” the guy says, way too loud. I could do this with my eyes closed. I check the two Berettas in my hand one last time as I wait for the punchline. When it comes I’m turning the corner and shooting. I hope it’s a funny one. “And then the bartender says…” He pauses to build anticipation for the punchline. “We only have Boobwiser.” Nothing but crickets. Oh well. I turn the corner with my guns pointed forward.

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“Come on guys,” the skinny one says to the confused faces. “Boobwiser.” Their lives have been nothing but a joke. And I have the punchline right here. I pull the triggers and bullets rip past the silencers on the end of my Glocks and fly through bone, blood and muscle and out the other side, taking the criminal’s pathetic lives with them. The four bodies drop like stones. I don’t even bother to check their pulses. When I’m in the zone like this I don’t miss. Four shots. Four kills. I spin and turn back around the corner, duck and aim my gun at the end of the wall on the opposite side. A guard walks around the building and I shoot him right in the chest. He crumples in on himself and collapses to the pavement. I aim the gun at his head in case there’s a sliver of him still alive that wants to make a sound. There isn’t.

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That’s five. Two more outside and who knows how many inside… I hurry towards the dead body, keeping a two feet distance from the wall. Movie stars always hug the wall when they’re walking through a hot zone but the real deals walk in the middle of a hallway. Stray bullets can ricochet off walls turning even missed bullets deadly. I find the last two guards sharing a joint by the front door. I’m high on the thrill of a fresh kill and my pulse jacks at the sight of two new targets. I crouch down behind the corner of the wall and aim for the heads poking out of the big cloud of thick smoke. Click, click, drop, drop. My adrenaline spikes and I head for the door. It’s time to get my girl.

eighteen Sara The lingerie is too small and digs into my skin like claws. I turn to the mirror and when I see my reflection I have to place my palm on the wall to keep myself up. My stomach heaves and I taste a bitter tang in my mouth. This can’t be happening. “Let’s go,” a muffled voice says from outside the bathroom. He bangs on the door and I nearly have a panic attack. They’re going to parade me through the building in a baby doll lingerie outfit and force me to spend the night with my father’s enemy. “Let’s go!” the voice outside yells louder this time.

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I have pink panties on that barely cover my ass and a short, see-through nightgown that begins with a clasp at my bust and floats away from my exposed body. The lace bra barely covers my nipples. I have never felt so exposed in my life. The door opens and a man with a tattoo of a tear on his cheek yanks me out. “I said five minutes,” he says with a snarl. His disgusting face curls up into a smile as his vile eyes trespass over my body. “The boss is going to like you.” It feels like I have tiny insects crawling all over my skin. I flinch and cringe away from him but he grabs my arm and yanks me forward. I hold back a whine as his steel grip digs into my soft flesh. He drags me through the building and I close my eyes as we pass men who look me up and down with lust in their hard eyes. I hum softly to myself, trying to block out their jeers and lewd comments. I think of Colton

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and the night when I fell asleep with his strong arms wrapped around me. My escort, or captor, comes to a stop in front of an office. He knocks on the door and leans in to listen. “Boss your dessert is here,” he says. “Send her in,” a muffled voice answers back from the other room. My throat is burning and my first thought is to run but this guy is holding me tight and I’m wearing stilettos even if he wasn’t. There’s no escape. I have to do whatever they want me to do. He opens the door and a cloud of cigar smoke floats out. “Good luck,” he says as he pushes me into the office. I wave the smoke out of my face and cough as the door shuts behind me. Fedor is sitting behind the desk with a wet stub of a cigar between his clenched, yellow teeth. His sunglasses are on the table and his scarred, broken eyes are facing the wall.

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“Come here child,” he says in a soft voice. “I see with my hands. And I want to get a load of you.” He grins. “Or put a load inside you is more like it.” My stomach turns as he chuckles at his own disgusting joke. At least I hope it’s a joke. He turns towards me and my skin tightens as I feel his eyes on me even though I know he can’t see. “I’m not a man who likes to ask twice, child,” he says, his soft voice now with a hint of anger to it. He grinds his cigar stub into a huge crystal ashtray and lifts up his hands. “Come.” I glance back at the closed door and take a deep breath. As much as I want to run I know that I won’t get anywhere before they catch me and drag me back by my hair. My best bet, my only bet, is to get this over with as quickly as possible. He can take my body but he won’t take my mind. I’ll be thinking of Colton while he paws me with his foul hands.

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My hands snake together and fidget while I walk behind Fedor’s monstrous desk. He’s breathing heavier as I approach and he loosens his purple tie and unbuttons the top couple buttons of his shirt, showing off his thick, graying chest hair. He shifts in his chair and my eyes fall down to his lap. His erection is pressed against his pants and my skin tightens at the sight. I can’t do this. My foot steps back on its own accord and I turn toward the door when strong, steel fingers wrap around my tiny wrist. Fedor yanks me onto his lap and my thigh brushes against his erection, making him groan. I swallow uncomfortably as I try to shift my weight away from his nauseating package but he holds me in place with his rough hands.

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“I’ve had thousands of girls,” he says, sliding his rough hands under my nightgown and onto my swirling stomach. I cringe away from him but he holds me in place. I’ve never felt so dirty in my life and I feel a compulsion to flee. I close my eyes and try to picture Colton’s smile but it disappears from my mind every time Fedor’s hands discover somewhere new on my body. He brushes his hand up my stomach and rubs the bottom curves of my breast through my lingerie as his other hand tucks in-between my inner thighs. “I’ve had girls of all sizes, of all colors,” he continues. “But there’s nothing quite as sweet as having the daughter of my enemy.” He kisses my neck with leather lips and I almost scream out. My stomach is burning with cramps and I’m so nauseous that I may throw up on him. I wonder if he has this effect on all the women he’s about to rape.

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He grins as his hand slides up my thigh, forcing my legs apart as he heads for my privates. Someone yells in the hallway and his hand freezes in place on my leg as he listens to hear the commotion outside. Gunshots ring out and a man screams in pain. “Chto za huy,” he spits out like a curse. The hand that was groping the bottom of my breast wraps around my midsection like a rope. He pulls me into his body and holds me in place. His other hand leaves my leg and opens a drawer. He pulls out a handgun and points it at the closed door that I came in through. There’s more commotion outside as gunshots and screams ring out like it’s d-day in the hall. I hold my breath and stare at the door, hoping to see a familiar face walk through it. I glance around the desk, looking for a

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weapon if I might need one but there’s nothing but stacks of paper and a couple of expensive looking pens. My fight or flight response has kicked in and I’m definitely in flight mode. There are only two exits from the office: through the door or through the window to the left behind us. But unless I learn how to become bulletproof or learn how to fly in the next thirty seconds I’m stuck here. Several long seconds stretch out like an ocean as we wait for someone to open the door. Fedor taps the trigger with his finger as he listens. I spot a letter opener on the desk beside a stack of paper and bite my bottom lip. He’s blind and if I’m very careful I might be able to grab it. I lean forward and reach out as careful as I can. His hand tightens around my ribs and he yanks me back into him, holding me tighter than before. “Don’t try a thing you little

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blyadischa,” he warns. “I might not have any vision but I can see better than most men.” My hands fall to my sides as the door handle turns. I pray that it’s Colton. It has to be him. Fedor brushes his jittery finger over the trigger as the door creeps open. My heart is pounding. The door swings open and Colton is standing in the entrance with blood splattered all over his fitted, black suit. His white shirt underneath is stained a wet red. Everything that’s going on and the first thing that pops into my head is how hot he looks in a suit. A look of relief flashes across his face as he sees me but it quickly turns to a look of rage as his eyes trawl down my body and he sees what they have me wearing. Fedor shifts me in front of him and hides behind my body, using it as a shield.

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He raises his hand and digs the muzzle of the gun into my temple. “Don’t move,” Fedor says to Colton in a calm voice. “Drop the gun.” Colton has a gun in each hand. There’s a holster strapped to his leg but it’s empty. He looks from Fedor to me and back again. He looks like he’s trying to gauge whether or not he can make the shot. Fedor yanks me closer to him. His foul breath contaminates my neck. Colton sighs and drops one gun on the floor. It lands on the hardwood floor with a clank. “The other one too,” Fedor says as if he has psychic ability. A flash of panic crosses Colton’s eyes and he shakes his head slowly. He takes a deep breath and drops the second gun. “Let her go and I’ll kill anyone you want,” Colton says. “I’ll kill the fucking President if you release her unharmed.”

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Fedor shakes his head. “You expect me to trust you after you just mowed down a building full of my men?” Colton nods. “If it means her safety. Yes.” I feel my heartbeat thumping in my chest. I was worried that Colton thought of me as a one week fling but that intense look in his eyes is telling me different. He seems to have genuine feelings for me. He killed for me and the way that he’s standing there, unarmed with the barrel of a gun pointing at him, he looks like he’s willing to die for me too. My fingers ache with the need to touch him. I wasn’t sure, until this moment, that he cared. “You’ve killed so many of my brothers over the years,” Fedor says, squeezing the gun so hard that his hand is shaking. “You killed my nephew Sergio a few years back. I’ve been looking for you.”

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Colton’s eyes narrow as he glances over my shoulder. “And now I have you,” Fedor continues. He grabs my breast and Colton turns back to us and takes a step forward with flexed arms and flaring nostrils. “Is this your girlfriend?” he asks. “Maybe I’ll fuck her over your dead body.” He slides his hand to my other breast and my stomach turns. “Would you like that you little whore?” Colton is breathing noisily as he keeps glancing behind us. “Tell her you love her,” Fedor says. “Give her something nice to think about as I slide my fat cock up her tight ass. You have five seconds before it’s lights out.” Colton turns to me and his eyes soften. “I love you,” he mouths, only for me to see. My stomach sinks as Fedor raises the gun an inch.

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“Oh well,” he says, holding me tight on his lap. “I guess you were just a whore to him like you’ll be to me.” I can’t watch. I close my eyes and the gun goes off. My ears ring as I’m thrown off balance and we tumble to the ground. Something wet splatters on my cheek. I fall onto Fedor and roll off him onto the hardwood floor. I open my eyes, confused as all hell, and see Fedor lying on the floor. His scarred, burnt eyes are filling with blood leaking out of the fresh hole in his temple. It drips down his face and pools on the floor under him. “What the fuck?” I whisper as I push myself up to my knees. My ears are still ringing and I can’t hear a thing. Ichiro, the Ninja Assassin, is standing behind the desk, next to the open window. He’s pointing a smoking gun at Colton. His mouth is moving but all I hear is ringing.

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I rub my ears and eventually the ringing subsides. Ichiro turns to me. His gun is still pointed at the man I love. “You’re safe now,” he says. “I’m taking you back to your father.” “What about Colton?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer. Ichiro grins. “He’s not going to be able to make it.” “He tried to save me,” I say in a panic. “My father is going to want him alive.” “Actually,” Ichiro says turning back to Colton, “I’m getting paid fifty grand to extradite him. By your dad.” “I’ll pay you a hundred grand,” I scream. My hands are shaking as I plead with him not to pull the trigger. Ichiro looks amused. “You can offer me a million,” he says. “I’d rather have the exhilarating feeling of putting a bullet in his brash, cocky mouth.”

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Colton doesn’t plead for his life, he doesn’t try to run away, he just stands there glaring back at the man who is holding a gun aimed at his head. “On your knees Colton,” Ichiro says pointing to the ground with his gun. “You lived your life with no humility. The least I can do is give you some before you die.” “Fuck you Ninja Ass,” Colton says and spits on the floor between them. The joy on Ichiro’s cold face is unmistakable and I know he’s about to pull the trigger. I move on the floor, unsure of my next action but sure that I have to do something or Colton will be shot, when my hand grazes cold steel. The gun is still in Fedor’s stiff, dead hand. I unpeel his cold fingers from the handle as Ichiro steps forward saying something about how this settles that he is the number one assassin between them.

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My fingers wrap around the handle and I get a rush of adrenaline with the hard metal in my hand. I’ve never fired a gun before but I’m so close to my target that there’s no way I can miss the hitman in front of me. I point the barrel at his back. “Say hello to your dead wife and kid,” Ichiro says and I fire. A flame bursts out of the gun barrel as it jerks in my hand. The shot is loud and my ears start ringing again as Ichiro falls to the floor and disappears from my view on the other side of the desk. Colton lunges forward. By the time I stand up he has his arms wrapped around Ichiro’s neck, choking the life out of him. Ichiro’s face pales as the blood drains from his cheeks and out of the bullet hole in his body. I watch in horrid fascination as Colton squeezes. His fitted suit hugs his jacked muscles and his face is twisted in exertion as he does what he does best.

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“That was for Olivia and my baby,” he whispers into the dead Japanese man’s ear. My stomach is hit with cramps like I’ve never felt before. I drop to my knees, clutching my stomach and howling in pain. Colton is by my side at once, rubbing my back and asking me what’s wrong. I shake my head and I grit my teeth as another wave of cramps pass. I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve never had pain like this before. And then it dawns on me. I’m pregnant. I’m late for my period and I’m never late for my period. I’ve had constant cramps and nausea the past few days. The gained weight. And now there is something new. I can feel a presence in my stomach like I’ve never felt before. There’s a baby in there. Call it intuition or a mother’s sixth sense but I know that there’s a baby growing in my belly. Colton’s baby.

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His hand covers mine as he rubs my back and comforts me. He kisses my head with a gentleness that I didn’t realize was there when I first met him. It’s a welcome surprise. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soothing voice. I nod and relax now that the pain in my stomach is subsiding. I want to tell him. But now is not the time. Not while we’re surrounded by dead people. He helps me to my feet and guides me to the door. “You might want to close your eyes,” he says. “There’s a lot of dead bodies out here.” And they’re all for me. He came back, risked his life and killed for me. I hold my stomach with one hand and his with the other. I’m going to make this work, whatever ‘this’ is between us. We’ll be a family.

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We’ll be together. There’s just one obstacle left to deal with.

nineteen Colton This is going to be the hard part. I have to let Sara go. I’m not good for her and being around me is just plain dangerous. She deserves much more than a killer for hire. She’s going to go on to become a great lawyer, marry a CEO of a respectful company and squeeze out two or three pups and have a life that others will look up to and envy. “I’m dropping you off at your father’s place,” I say as I change lanes on the highway. “Why?” she asks, whipping her head around. She pulls her hand off mine, recoiling like she just touched a hot stove. “I want to stay with you.”

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I keep my eyes on the dark road as I exhale slowly. I can’t look at the hurt in her eyes. It will make what I have to do that much harder. It’s better this way than her ending up like my mother or Olivia. People tend to go cold when they’re around me. “You know why,” I say, glancing up at the big, highway lights that we’re passing by. “I really don’t,” she answers. Why does she have to make this harder than it is? She rubs the back of my hand. “I want to stay with you.” I look at her, dressed in my jogging pants and t-shirt, and sigh. “You don’t want to stay with me. You can lead a normal life. A safe life.” “As my father’s prisoner?” she asks. “Why are you doing this?” “Because I fucking love you,” I say. The words just come out on their own but it’s the truth. I love her.

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I can feel her staring at me. “You love me?” she asks. “For real?” I swallow hard and nod. “I wouldn’t lie about that.” She strokes my hand with her thumb as she kisses my shoulder. “I love you too,” she whispers. A tightness grips my chest at her words. It’s been so long since someone has told me they loved me. Too long. But that’s why I have to let her go. “You deserve better than me,” I tell her. “You deserve to be safe.” “It doesn’t matter what I deserve,” she says, leaning closer to me. “I want you. As arrogant, cocky and flawed as you are.” “You forgot brash,” I say with a grin. “And reckless,” she adds. “And sexy,” I say. She nods and smiles. “You’re definitely sexy.”

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The car fills up with silence and tension. Sara telling me that she loves me doesn’t change anything. It only makes it harder. “I have something to tell you,” she says. “Sara,” I say in exasperation. “Please don’t make this har-” “I’m pregnant.” She blurts it out and I jerk my head to the side so fast that I almost run us off the road. Someone honks and I yank the car back into our lane. A lightness hits my chest and I shake my head. It was a mistake. She didn’t just say that. “Excuse me?” I ask. “Don’t be mad,” she says, pulling her hand off mine. “But I’m pregnant.” I reach over and swallow her hand in mine. “Mad?” I ask in shock. “How could I be mad?” “I know we didn’t plan this,” she says, sounding nervous.

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My pulse is racing, in a good way, and a grin spreads across my mouth. I’m going to be a father. And Sara is the mother. I’ve never felt so blessed in all of my life. I never thought this would happen for me again. “Please say something,” she says, looking down in her lap. An insatiable urge to have her right now invades every cell in my body. She’s carrying my baby inside her. I fly across two lanes to get to the quickly approaching exit. The cars behind me lay on the horn but I don’t care. Sara is the most beautiful thing in the world. My seed is growing inside her and I have to have her. Now. “What are you doing?” she asks as she grips onto the handle of the door. “Colton?” I speed up and my Porsche flies off the highway and onto a back road. It’s mostly unlit country roads around here lined with

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dense forest. I take a sharp turn off the main road onto a secluded dirt road hidden by tall, green trees. “Where are you going?” she asks, looking out the window with a tinge of panic in her voice. It just drives me further. I pull over next to a large maple and throw the car into park. “Look I’m sorry,” she says speaking rapidly. “I didn’t mean to get pregnant. It was an accident. Please don’t leave me here.” “Leave you here?” I ask, pulling back in shock. “You’re the mother of my child.” She’s looking at her fidgeting hands in her lap. I gently take her chin and guide her eyes up to mine. I can’t let her go now. Not with my baby in her. I’ve been given a second chance and I’m not going to lose it. “I thought you-” I interrupt her with a kiss. A passionate, body melting kiss that tells her how I feel.

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I’ve never kissed her like that before and the soft moan that escapes from her mouth tells me that she likes it. When I finally pull away her eyes are glassy with a drunken haze over them. Her mouth is still hanging open like she wants more so I kiss her again. Her hands move from mine to my thighs. She brushes her open palm up my leg as her thumb grazes my cock. “Still going to dump me off at my dad’s?” she asks between gasps of breath. My cock starts to harden under her touch. She slides her hand up and over my dick and it hardens instantly as if she has control over it and I don’t. “No,” I say, my head dipping backward as she strokes my shaft over my pants. “You’re staying with me. Forever.” Sara unclicks her seatbelt and sits sideways. Her nipples are hard under her shirt and my hard-on burns at the sight. Her wavy

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brown hair falls in layers, framing her angelic face. Her skin and shimmering eyes reflect the soft blue light from the lit up dashboard. She’s the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen and from this day forward she will be mine. I don’t deserve her? Fuck that. Then I will become the kind of man that she deserves. I will become whatever I need to so that we can be together. Just the two of us and our child. “You’re not mad?” she asks, as she unzips my pants and pulls out my cock. How can I be mad with my dick in her hand? “No,” I say swallowing hard. “We can leave. Start a new life.” I take her wrist and remove her hand. I can’t concentrate with her fingers stroking me like that. And I want to make sure that I do this right. “I know a guy that can make passports,” I say. I only realize how crazy these words

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sound after they’ve already passed my lips. “We can start fresh in a new country with a new identity.” She’s staring at me with blank eyes. Not good. “I have money,” I say. “We can go anywhere you want. We can start over and do things right. No more killing for me. No more law school for you. You can be the painter that you always wanted to be.” She’s listening but her expression is frozen. I don’t ever want to stop talking because when I do the dreadful ‘no’ will come. “We can raise our child together in a real home. A home overflowing with love. She’ll never have to know our pasts.” A ripple of a smile swirls across her face. “She?” she asks. “Or he,” I say, even though I know it’s a girl. “Please Sara. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my entire life. I want a family with you. I know I’m not the kind of package you

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expected but I’ll make it work. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.” Now it’s her turn to answer me with a kiss. My body melts in relief as her silky tongue brushes against mine. She leans back on her seat, pulling me down with her. We attack each other’s buttons and clothes in a frenzy until her pants are on the dashboard and her shirt is hanging from the steering wheel. Her spread pussy is dripping wet before me and I hesitate before sliding my cock in. “Just stick it in,” she says, groaning and shifting around in frustration. “I don’t want…” “What?!?” she asks, biting her lip with her eyes closed. “I don’t want to poke her in the forehead or anything,” I say. She opens her eyes and laughs. “She’s the size of a lentil you dolt. Just fuck me.” How can I deny her?

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I thrust into her with one fast pump. She gasps loud as she buries her nails in my tricep. I’m glad that the road we’re on seems to be really secluded because I’m about to make her scream. Her mouth is wide open as small whines escape from her throat. I cover her lips with my mouth and swallow them. I fuck her with hard thrusts, each one faster and deeper than the last. I grab her tits as she slams her hips back into mine, meeting me with every pump. Her pussy is so tight and it tightens even more as I go. This is the only pussy I’ll have for the rest of my life. And I’m totally fucking fine with that. Knowing that turns me on even more. “Fuck Colton,” she moans as I pull away from her mouth. “You’re going to make me come.” Her words spur me on. I grab the back of her neck with my hand and fuck her

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harder. She screams louder with every thrust until she’s bent forward, screaming into my shoulder. “I’m comi-” Her face twists and tightens as her orgasm rips her voice away. Her luscious body bucks and convulses under me. Her pussy constricts around my dick and she’s so tight that I feel my own orgasm following. “Fuck,” I grunt as I bury myself deep in her, filling her with my cum. A wave of pleasure washes through my body and I’m drowning in the bliss. I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of Sara’s hair, enjoying the moment while it lasts. The waves become weaker and weaker and I start to come down from the crazy high that her sweet pussy launched me up to. “I’ll go with you,” Sara whispers and I perk up. “You will?” I ask, like a dog who just got told that he’s going on a walk.

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“I’ll go anywhere with you,” she says, stroking her hand over my cheek. “I want you, me and our baby to be a family.” I have no words so I just kiss her. I kiss her like she just made all my dreams come true. Because she did. “Where do you want to go?” I ask when I’m back in my seat, pulling up my pants. “Italy, New Zealand, Argentina?” She looks upset and my heart drops. Was she just saying all of that in the heat of the moment? Has she changed her mind? “Sara,” I ask in barely a whisper. “Is everything okay?” Her brown eyes start to water as she looks at me. My stomach tightens. “Fedor told me something when he had me captured,” she says with her lip shaking. She pauses for a moment while she collects herself. She exhales hard and looks up at me. “My father was the one who gave the order to kill Olivia.”

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A coldness hits my core. It doesn’t make sense but deep down I know she is right even if I don’t know why. “Ichiro was working for Fedor at the time right?” she asks. I nod. My mouth is so dry. “My father approached him and got him to switch sides.” She’s fidgeting with her safety belt as she talks. “His first job was to kill her.” “But why?” I ask. What did Olivia have to do with anything? She wasn’t in the business at all. “Carmen thought that you were becoming soft because of her,” she explains. “You were his top hitman and he didn’t want to lose you. So he had Ichiro kill your wife and child, and blamed it on the Russian Brotherhood.” I sit back in my seat and close my eyes. I want to call her a liar but I can’t. I know

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that she’s telling the truth. I just can’t believe I didn’t figure it out before. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought that you should know.” I rub my brow trying to ward off an oncoming headache. This changes everything. Or does it? I already lost Olivia. I can’t lose Sara as well. We can forgive and forget, get Sara a passport and head to the ends of the earth, living our days out in paradise together. But a hitman never forgets. I can’t forget Olivia’s beautiful pregnant body turned an icy shade of blue. I can’t forget the blood and the sadness, the pain and the brilliant life he took away. And the life that didn’t have a chance to begin, snuffed out. My happiness with Sara doesn’t change the fact that her father has to pay. Carmen has to answer for his sins. With his life.

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Sara is watching me when I finally open my eyes. How do I tell the girl that I love that I’m going to kill her dad? How do I murder my child’s grandfather? I don’t have the answers but that doesn’t mean Carmen is going to get a pass. His last view will be down the barrel of my gun. “I know what you’re going to do,” she says, with sadness in her eyes. “And I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t okay with it.” My heart races under her gaze. “Carmen is a…horrible man,” Sara says, staring down at her empty hands. “He deserves whatever is coming to him.” “He does,” I admit. “But he’s also your father.” She shakes his head. “Just because he knocked up my mother does not make him my father. It takes more than that in my

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opinion. Love, respect, tenderness. That’s what a father is supposed to be about.” She clutches her arms to her chest and I want to reach out for her but my hands are frozen in my lap. “If we leave without doing this,” she says with a pained expression on her face, “he’ll find us and he won’t show us the mercy that he doesn’t deserve.” She rubs her stomach and I picture the tiny baby inside. “We’ll never be safe or allowed to start over with him alive. He’ll find us.” I just start the car and nod. I know what I have to do to keep my family safe. “Then let’s go pay him a visit.”

twenty Sara “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Colton asks as the lock clicks open. I push past him and charge through the side door. How is that for an answer? Colton slides the tools that he picked the lock with back into his pocket and slowly closes the door behind him. We’re in the dark garage of my father’s mansion in the middle of the night. Colton disabled the security system outside in less than a minute. He holds up his lit up phone and an army of expensive cars take shape in the soft blue light. He glances back at the closed door and I walk the other way shaking my head. He

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doesn’t want me here. He said it isn’t a good idea, that he works alone, that it is too dangerous for me. I told him, ‘Fuck all that. I’m going.’ He jogs to catch up to me and grabs my hand. “You should let me go first.” I’m about to answer when I see the gun in his gloved hands. It reminds me how serious all of this is. I nod and let him walk ahead. I glance down at my own hands with the blue latex gloves stretched over them and I wonder if they’ll be this clean at the end of the night. Colton listens at the door for a moment and when he’s satisfied that there’s no one on the other side he quickly picks the lock and opens it. The light is on in the kitchen but the dishwasher is going. That means the maids have gone for the night, which means that

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my father is either in bed or out on the town whoring around. Colton points to the ceiling and then places his index finger to his lips. I nod. No talking from here on out. We creep down the hallway on the marble floor and head for the large staircase by the entryway. Daisy is passed out on the living room couch. There’s a margarita glass, half full with white liquid and melted ice, on the floor beside her. Fucking skank. She fucked half the football team in high school and I had to pretend to smile while Carmen married her. After tonight I’ll never have to see her again. I give her the finger as I follow Colton up the stairs. My dad’s room is to the right. His bedroom is more of a wing than a room. It has an enormous bathroom with a walk-in shower that can fit a dozen or so people, and rumor has it that’s he’s had over a dozen women in there at the same time. There’s an

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office with a bar, and then there’s his massive bedroom with a ski resort sized fireplace. I try to be as quiet as I can as I follow Colton up the stairs. He hasn’t made a sound since we stepped into the garage. My hands start shaking on the top step. Is this really happening? Colton doesn’t hesitate. He’s a true professional and looks as calm as if he’s walking into a library on a Sunday afternoon. The door to Carmen’s room is not locked and Colton slides inside without a noise. He moves as quickly and silently as a shadow. Water is running in the bathroom and I take a deep, quiet breath as I follow Colton through the door. We pass the open closet with my father’s long line of shiny shoes and stuffed rack of expensive suits. I was never allowed in here as a kid. I remember hiding in his closet

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when I was nine. I was playing hide and go seek with my favorite maid and I came out holding a Ziploc bag of white powder. Carmen locked me in my room for the weekend and fired the maid. I won’t miss this place. With a father like Carmen it’s hard to have warm childhood memories. Colton stops at the entrance to the bathroom and turns to me as the sound of a toothbrush scratching on teeth hit my ears from the other room. “Ready?” he mouths. I take a deep breath and give him the slightest of nods. He peeks around the corner and then walks in, holding the gun up. My legs stop working and my hands start shaking again. Or did they ever stop? My dad screams out in terror and I rush into the room.

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“What the fuck Colton?” he yells, clutching his chest. His eyes widen when he sees me. “Sara!” He looks like a normal dad in his pajama pants and old, frayed t-shirt but the look doesn’t fool me. He is anything but a normal dad. “You found her,” Carmen says, ignoring the gun that Colton is pointing at him. He steps towards me with his arms open for a hug. It’s all an act. He hasn’t hugged me, ever. “That’s far enough Carmen,” Colton warns. Carmen turns to him with a smile so unnatural on his normally angry face that it looks almost comical. “I have to give it to you Colton,” he says, pretending not to notice the gloves on the hitman’s hands. “You said you were going to bring her back and you did. I owe you a debt of gratitude. How does one hundred thousand dollars sound?”

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Colton doesn’t flinch. “There’s only one thing that you can give me to settle your debt,” he says, his voice cold and steady. “What’s that?” Carmen asks, still holding his toothbrush in his hands. The water is still running into the sink behind him. “Your life.” My dad turns to me with a look of confusion on his face. “What is going on Sara?” I cross my arms and glare at him. He’s getting no help from me. “He knows.” He darts his head back and forth between Colton and me. “Knows what?” “You sent the Ninja Assassin to kill my girlfriend and unborn child?” Colton asks. “So I’d be a better soldier?” Carmen drops the smile. “It was the Russian Bratva,” he says, shaking his head. “They killed her. How much do you want for bringing my baby girl home? One million dollars?”

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“Ichiro said otherwise,” I say, not letting him off the hook. “We know it was you. Admit it and you get to live.” Colton flashes me a look. “Alright,” Carmen says, lowering his head. “I’ll admit what I know. It was Ichiro who killed your girlfriend. He was working for the Russian Brotherhood at the time but I only found out years later.” “It doesn’t matter what you say,” Colton says, squeezing the handle of the gun. “I know it was you.” I know it’s coming soon and there’s an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I glance back over my shoulder at the door that we walked in through. I’m having second thoughts about the whole thing. Do I really want to see my father die? No matter how much he deserves it? Colton lowers the gun and I take a breath of relief.

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“I’m not going to murder you in front of your daughter,” he says. “I’m better than that. I’m better than you. But I will tell you one thing.” He steps towards my dad. Carmen steps back and bumps into the counter. “Your daughter is leaving,” he says. “With me. You are done with the both of us. If we ever catch wind of you sniffing around us I’ll come back here and…” Colton looks down at his gun and shrugs. “I don’t have to explain it to you do I?” Carmen shakes his head violently from side to side. “You won’t hear from me again.” He turns to me and I drop my eyes down to the heated tile. Why do I feel bad? He’s had this coming for a long time. “You disappoint me, Sara,” he says, trying to play on my emotions. “What kind of daughter leaves their father and embarrasses him in the worst way?” “That’s what you’re worried about?” I ask. “How it will make you look? You don’t

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care about me. You never did.” I turn to leave. I’m done with this pathetic excuse for a man. “Fine then leave,” he says with a sneer. “Just like your mother. I guess the whores don’t fall far from the whore tree.” His eyes are full of hate. He’s just a sad old man trying to hurt me one last time. I won’t let him. His words roll off me like water on a raincoat. “That’s why I had to kill her,” he says, staring into my eyes. My shoulders and jaw drop as a sharp pain shoots through my heart. I was twelve when my mother died in a car accident, or so I thought. “Wha…” My mind is jumbled with incoherent thoughts. Did I just understand that right? Colton walks forward and slams the butt of the gun on the bridge of Carmen’s nose. He falls to his knees, screaming in pain, as blood gushes from the impact.

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“I said I’m not going to murder you in front of Sara,” he says, as he kicks him in the balls. “But I can rough you up a bit. She’ll be happy to see that.” I wince as Colton grabs the top of Carmen’s head and knees him in the face. He collapses to the floor and Colton turns his back on him. “Come, babe,” he says. He breaks me out of a trance when he touches my arm. “This guy is not worth another moment of your life.” I know he’s right. But I have to get the last word in. “You killed my mom?” He’s holding a towel to his gushing nose. There’s blood everywhere. “She tried to leave me.” “So?” I scream. “You hated her!” He shrugs. “She was going to embarrass me and I can’t afford to be embarrassed. It’d

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be best for you to remember that before you leave.” Colton walks back and kicks him in the chest. Carmen’s head flies back into the counter with a thunk. “What did I say about threats?” Colton asks calmly. He crouches down and sticks the gun in-between Carmen’s eyes. “We’re leaving now. And if we ever see you again this will be the last thing you ever see. My gun sticking in your face.” Carmen is breathing heavily, glaring over the gun at Colton. His face is red and angry. I know that look. This isn’t going to be the last time we see him. Carmen always has the last word. He always gets his way. Colton stands up and walks towards me. “Come,” he whispers. I hesitate, not wanting to leave a loose end. He’s a ticking time bomb and we’ll never be at peace if we know that he’s around

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looking for us. Not only will we be in danger but so will our child. And that I can’t have. Colton seems to read my mind. He lowers his head and gazes into my eyes. “It’s going to be okay Sara,” he says. “He won’t hurt us anymore.” And I believe him. My father has hurt both of us for more than a lifetime. But we have each other now and together we’re unstoppable. Colton takes my hand in his and pulls me to leave the bathroom. A movement catches the corner of my eye and I see my dad reaching into the bottom drawer of the cabinet. A cold feeling hits me just as he pulls out a handgun. “Colton!” I scream at the top of my lungs. Colton pushes me and spins on his heels. I fall to the ground as his gun goes off three times.

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My dad is dead before I hit the heated tiles. His gun falls out of his limp fingers and he falls to the floor with two fresh bullet wounds in his chest and one in his forehead. “I’m sorry,” Colton says rushing down to help me up. I look past him at my dad’s dead body and feel nothing. He deserved everything he got and I’m thankful to Colton for giving it to him. He guides me out through the house and I puke in the bushes when we finally get outside. I don’t think it’s from the baby this time. Colton rubs my back as he looks around. “Are you okay?” he asks. “I’m so sorry for everything.” “It’s not your fault,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You gave him a chance. A chance that he didn’t even deserve.” I wrap my arms around Colton’s hard body and it feels more like home than this

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house behind me ever did. It’s time to get it out of my life for good. I lay my cheek on his chest and smile. “Let’s go get that passport,” I say. He pulls back and looks at me with pure happiness on his face. “Really?” “Of course,” I say. “All I want is you.” We walk out through the gate and head to Colton’s parked car a few houses down. “Where do we go?” he asks. It doesn’t matter. As long as I’m with Colton than I’ll be happy. I’ll go anywhere with him. But if I have a say in it… I smile. “Somewhere hot. And with a beach!” Colton grins that sexy grin that makes me melt. “You got it, sweetheart.”

epilogue Colton I raise my face to the setting sun and close my eyes. I inhale long and slow through my nose, breathing in the salty ocean air. A slap on the back of my head jerks me out of my contented daze. “Go horsie go,” Anabella says in her squeaky voice. My hands are wrapped around her tiny legs and I give them a gentle squeeze. “Neigggghhh,” I say trying to sound like a horse. Anabella squeals in delight and pats my head like a drum. I gallop along the beach, kicking up warm sand with my bare feet, as my three-year-old daughter sits on my shoulders and laughs. I’ve come a long way.

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“Talk horsie talk,” she demands. I shake my head and neigh like a stallion. Yup. I’ve definitely come a long way. I stop and take a peaceful moment to turn and watch the setting sun over the turquoise water. We live in Greece on a tiny island called Makra. The pace crawls as slow as a turtle around here and I’m still surprised that it suits me just fine. Anabella grips my forehead with her sandy hands and watches the spectacular pink and purples hues of the setting sun dance across the gentle waves. I take a breath and count my blessings. I have more than I can ever want over here. I have more than I deserve. I wave to a small fishing boat heading towards the beach. Tadeas lowers his paddle and waves back to me, flashing his white teeth that contrast heavily with his sundarkened skin.

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“Go build Daddy a sandcastle,” I say to Anabella as I put her down in the sand. She runs after a seagull instead. “You listen as well as your mommy,” I say with a smile. She just ignores me as she runs in playful circles on the deserted beach. She’s a miniature version of Sara. Complete with the long, wavy brown hair and cute, button nose. And looking at her tugs on my heart just like it does with her mother. “Busy day at the office?” I ask Tadeas as I pull his wooden rowboat onto the beach. He holds up a line with half a dozen fish hanging down. “The fishies were hungry today.” He unhooks the biggest sea bass, the size of Anabella, off the line. “For dinner,” he says, handing it to me. I wave him off. “No, no, I can’t possibly,” I say. He shoves it in my arms, insisting. “Yes, you take. I give you a fish a day forever.”

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I reluctantly take the fish and give him a hug. “You don’t have to do this,” I say, glancing over my shoulder to check on Anabella. She’s practicing, but failing miserably, at doing a handstand. She’s been wanting to do one since Sara showed her how last week. “I want to,” Tadeas says firmly. “You saved my Kaden. It’s my honor. You’re a miracle man.” There’s no hospital or clinic on the small island of Makra and I just kind of fell into the role of being the island doctor. We have a spare room in our house and I’ve collected medical supplies over the years and now I’m the island healer. And I’m actually pretty good at it. Tadeas had brought his seven-year-old son, Kaden, to me two weeks ago with a nasty cut on his foot. He was climbing up the rock cliffs with the older boys of the island and sliced his heel on a razor sharp rock. It was infected and oozing green when he came

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to me and I managed to clean it out with some antiseptic and sew up the gash. I kept him in our house for two days while I treated his fever with penicillin. If I wasn’t there it could have gotten ugly for the boy. Ironically, healing gives me an adrenaline rush as high as killing ever did. I don’t miss the old life at all. I hold up the fish in my hands and nod. This is going to be amazing over the barbecue. “Bring Kaden and your beautiful wife over for dinner and I’ll cook this sucker up. I have to take out his stitches anyways and I have a new batch of wine that’s ready to be cracked open. I can’t possibly drink it by myself.” Tadeas licks his dry lips and grins. Sara and I bought a little house on the island when we arrived in Greece after leaving the US after that whole mess with her father. We found a quiet hillside with a couple of acres of property overlooking the

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ocean. I paid for it in cash, with the money I had stashed away. The previous owners grew grapes on the property and I kept at it. I enjoy spending the days with my hands in the dirt and the sun on my back. The sound of the crashing waves are soothing and drown out the memories and all the pain that haunted me for so long. I began making wine when I had way too many grapes to eat, and after two years of failed batches of wine that tasted like grape juice mixed with rubbing alcohol, I finally got a batch that was almost drinkable. But last year I tweaked the recipe and the whole island came knocking on the door with fried octopus, fresh baklava, flowers and anything else you could imagine in exchange for a bottle. I wave ‘so long’ to Tadeas and scoop up Anabella in my arm. “Time to see Mommy,” I say, tickling her ribs and making her laugh

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and squirm. Her laugh is a junior replica of Sara’s. It makes my heart hurt in a good way every time I hear it. I hoist her back on my shoulders and we continue along the beach until the soft white sand turns to tiny pebbles. “Bye beach,” Anabella says, waving to the gentle waves lapping the shore. “Can we come back tomorrow Daddy?” “Of course my love,” I say, wondering how I got so lucky. There’s a dirt path ahead that snakes through the waist high grass. It’s a tenminute walk up a slow incline to the highest point on the island. There’s a rock cliff that is a blast to dive off of and it gives the best view on the planet of the setting sun over the ocean. The colors of the sunset are spectacular but they’re nothing compared to the angel sitting on the edge of the cliff dabbing a paintbrush onto her canvas. Sara’s brown

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hair is waving in the gentle breeze. Her sparkling eyes are narrowed in concentration as she slides her brush gently across her current masterpiece. She looks at peace. Happy. If my heart gets any lighter it’s going to float away. Sara never went to art school like she wanted to but I don’t think it would have made a difference. If anything, it would have held her back. She’s an incredibly talented painter. She tours the island during the day with nothing but a bag of oil paints and a blank canvas tucked under her arm. There’s no shortage of beauty on this small, secluded Greek island. On the weekends in the evening, the three of us stroll down to the small town center where the tourists come in off the large cruise ships and private yachts to swarm our quiet island. Sara sets up a table where she sells her paintings that she painted during the week to chatty and friendly tourists

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passing by. They love her work and she usually sells out just as Anabella falls asleep in my arms, tuckered out after a long day of playing. We smile at each other as the tourists walk away, admiring the painting they just bought. They’ll bring them home to their small, cramped city apartments, a small reminder of the relaxing time they spent in Greece. After Sara is sold out we usually walk to a tiny restaurant that serves skewers of spicy lamb and the sweetest tomatoes and cucumbers that I’ve ever tasted. Anabella sleeps, curled up on my lap, as Sara and I eat. We drink a bottle and a half of wine and enjoy each other’s company. Sara is always a little tipsy as we walk back home and leans her head on my shoulder as we watch the tourists on break from their stressed out lives. My only regret is that we didn’t move here sooner.

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We always stop in front of our favorite place: the old, tiny chapel overlooking the water. It’s slowly being overtaken by climbing vines with the biggest, most stunning flowers in the world. We smile as we look at the crumbling cement walls and remember the beautiful day we got married here. It was the happiest day of my life. That’s usually when I wrap my arm around her waist, careful not to wake the sleeping girl in my arms, and Sara looks up at me and blushes. I kiss her long and slow and say a prayer of thanks to being even happier with her now than the day we got married. I’m so happy that I have her. And the little, wet, sandy munchkin on my shoulders. “Daddy, look, Mommy,” Anabella says, pulling my ear. She points to Sara sitting in front of her canvas. She finally sees us on the path. She smiles and waves.

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She starts putting away her art supplies as we approach. Her painting is striking as always and I’ve seen enough of them to know that it will be the first one sold on Friday evening. “Don’t mind us,” I say as I lower Anabella to her feet. She hugs her mom and then runs into the grass looking for toads. “You can keep painting. You know I love watching you paint.” She smiles as her cheeks flush red. “I’m all done.” I walk up behind her and slide my hand under her thick hair. The skin is warm on the back of her neck. Her hair smells like the ocean and I just have to lay my lips on it. I kiss her on the head and she turns to me with a look that I know so well in her eyes. “Early bedtime for Anabella tonight,” I joke.

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She nods as she bites her bottom lip and traces her hand along my abs up under my shirt. Sara grabs my loose shirt in a ball and pulls me down. She strains her chin up with puckered lips. My mouth closes on hers and I open my eyes as I kiss her. Not because I don’t feel the passion between us, but because I still can’t believe that I’m kissing her. I can’t believe that I was lucky enough to wind up with her. I’m the happiest man on the planet. And I vowed on our wedding day to make her the happiest woman on earth. She pulls away from my kiss and licks her moist lips. She smiles peacefully as her eyes are swimming in desire. Well, if I’m not there yet, I’m pretty damn close.

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the end Thanks for reading! WANT MORE COLTON AND SARA FOR FREE?? Join my Mailing List to hear about new releases, specials and to get an Exclusive Bonus Chapter only available to my newsletter subscribers! Subscribe to the Kimberly Fox’s Newsletter

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Bonus Chapter 21: You’re a guest at Colton and Sara’s wedding! Read about the lover’s romantic, Greek wedding. Send me the free Bonus Chapter!

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Bonus Book!

Bare Knuckle Bear By Kim Fox Paranormal Romance HEA No Cliffhanger 18+

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Bare Knuckle Bear Ultimate Shifter Championship Series Book One By KIM FOX Sign up to Kim Fox’s exclusive newsletter to hear about new releases and to get exclusive content! Sign Up Here Connect on Facebook: Kim Fox on FB

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Connect on Twitter: @AuthorKimFox All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Please respect the author’s hard work and purchase a copy. Thanks! This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Contains explicit love scenes and adult language. 18+

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www.AuthorKimFox.com Copyright © 2015 by Kim Fox

Ultimate Shifting Championship Series Bare Knuckle Bear Grayson and Dakota Bare Knuckle Grizzly Hunter and Brooke Bare Knuckle Black Bear Jack and Skyler

one Dakota hoisted the heavy tray of beers off the bar and stepped right into a puddle of blood. “Shit,” she cursed, slipping and almost dropping everything. The beer bottles clinked together as if clapping over her acrobatic recovery. “Will someone clean this up?” she yelled out in frustration. Luke looked up from the glass that he was drying behind the bar. Ugh. When was the last time that towel was washed? No wonder the glasses had a nice coating of…something on them. “Not in my contract,” Luke said raising an eyebrow. Dakota wiped the blood off her foot on the hardwood floors. There were so many

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cigarette and cigar burns from people carelessly tossing their butts on the floor over the years that it looked like the surface of the moon with all of the tiny, gray craters. “Please Lukey,” she said, puckering her lips and giving her coworker her best, baby girl voice. “For me?” “Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes as he placed the glass on the shelf, dirtier than it was before. “But you’re cleaning up the next one.” She gave him a smile as she walked away with the beer, glancing down for any more puddles of blood. You couldn’t be afraid of blood working at the Bar Knuckle. There was a lot of it. Dakota forced a smile as she approached Walter Cash’s table. She hated serving these guys. “Good evening Mr. Cash,” she said, placing four beers down, one for each of the shifters at the table.

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Walter nodded at her, not making eye contact. Dakota eyed him quickly. He was an enormous man with hard eyes, a long nose and a thick head. His forearms were the size of cinder blocks and his fingers the size of fat sausages. He was the biggest rhino shifter that she had ever seen. Actually he was the only rhino shifter that she had ever seen. “No hi for me?” Brad asked, shifting in his seat, turning his nauseating body towards her. He had a mullet under his red trucker hat and the face of a weasel that recently got run over by a truck. Dakota forced out a smile as Brad touched her forearm with his cold hands, sending stomach-turning shivers through her body. She pictured smashing all three remaining beer bottles over his head. “I was going to get to you hun,” she said with a fake smile. Any other guy in this bar would be on his ass right now with stars in their eyes for touching her but the son of

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Walter Cash always got away with more than the regular shifter. “I’m going to fight in the cage tonight,” Brad said, posturing up and flexing his arms. “Are you going to root for me?” Yeah root for you to get your skull caved in. “Of course,” she said, turning away from his repulsive presence. “I love to watch you fight.” Dakota glanced at the huge, fighting cage in the back of the bar. The lights were off now. The owner of the bar, Leo, liked to take breaks between fights to let the boys drink. She dropped the smile as soon as she turned around from Walter’s table. Brad would never lose a fight. He was hardly one of the better fighters but no one was going to win against the son of the logging company boss and the most powerful man in town.

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Every fighter Brad faced dropped faster than a plate of spaghetti in a toddler’s arms. Dakota walked around the wooden tables to drop off the rest of the beers. There was shitty music playing through scratchy speakers. She had tried to play a good song once but the owner, Leo, almost bit her finger off when she touched the radio. The air was thick with smoke and sweat in the crowded bar. It was Sunday night and the loggers liked to come in for one night of hard drinking and even harder fighting before the long, back breaking week in the field. She swerved around the old, wooden tables packed with big, tough shifters. Eyes turned to her everywhere she walked. Dakota smiled, feeling sexy as hell. Back home in Kansas she was just average in the looks department, maybe even a bit lower. But out here she was a goddess. The shifters loved her big curves and thick body. They didn’t get many women up here so

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when the blond waitress walked by in her white cowboy hat, low cut top and tight jeans; they all looked. “Hey boys,” she said as she approached the dimly lit table in the back. She liked these three guys and her smile was genuine this time. “Hi Dakota,” Wyatt said. His chin and knuckles were covered in dried blood. “Did you see me fight?” “Is that what you were doing up there?” she asked. “It looked like you were taking a beating.” “Ha!” Hunter said, punching his arm. “And she’s paid to be nice to you! That’s how bad you did.” “Are you the one who bled all over the floor?” she asked with a hand on her curvy hip. “That was him,” Jack said, stroking his long red beard while chuckling.

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“Sorry about that,” Wyatt said. He lifted up his shirt and showed three long, parallel, pink scars running across his ribs. They looked fresh. “That fucker’s nails are sharp.” “Well yeah he’s a lion,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Next time mop up your blood. I almost fell and dropped your warm beers.” “Sorry Dakota,” he said, throwing a crumpled up twenty onto her tray. “You can keep the change.” “Thanks hun but it’s Luke that you have to apologize to.” She turned and gestured to the small, stocky bartender mopping up the blood. Wyatt’s eyes went wide and he had a look of pure panic on his face. He slunk down in his seat as his two friends laughed at him. Everyone in town was petrified of Luke. Well everybody except Dakota. He was smaller than most but scrappy and tough as hell. Badger shifters always were.

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“Don’t worry I won’t tell on you,” she said with a wink. Wyatt exhaled in relief. “Doesn’t mean I won’t tell,” Jack teased. She left the three boys, teasing and arguing with each other. Leo was in the cage fiddling with the microphone. Another fight was about to start. Dakota took an order at a table of cougar shifters and headed back to the bar to get the beers. “Thanks Lukey,” she said to the bartender. The bloody mop was in the corner. They were going to need it again soon. “Eight beers please.” She glanced around, smiling at the men drinking their beers at the bar. A new face at the end caught her eye. Hello stranger. He had dark eyes that were scanning the bar with a newby look on his handsome face. He wasn’t from around here; Dakota could tell that right away. He didn’t have that

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hardened look that came with working twelve hours a day in the logging field. These shifters worked through the winter. And in Northern Alberta, in the cold Canadian climate, that would put lines on even the hardest shifter’s face. He had stubble coating his slim cheeks and cut jawline. Dakota’s cheeks tingled, imaging how it would feel against her skin. The stranger caught her eye. She froze, unable to breath under his heated gaze. The corner of his lip curled up into a smile and she felt her panties pool with wetness. Luke we’re going to need that mop again. He ran his hand over his shaved head and smiled before turning back to his beer. She sniffed the air subtly trying to smell his animal. She preferred bear shifters like her. They were always so good to their women and Dakota didn’t date assholes. Actually she didn’t date anyone. She had been in this small town, working at this crater in the wall

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bar for two years and hadn’t been on one date. It wasn’t from a lack of invitations, she just wasn’t feeling any of them. But this guy on the other hand… “Whatcha looking at?” Luke asked with a smirk. He leaned on the bar and looked at the stranger on the end. “Nothing,” Dakota answered, placing her hands on the bar. She pulled them back when she felt the sticky wood. Ew. “He looks like he could use a refill,” Luke said. He reached in the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. She gripped the warm bottle and twisted off the non-twist off cap with her bare hands. “I’ll go,” she said, giving him a stern face. “Only because if he waits for you he’ll be waiting all night.” “Sure,” Luke said, smirking. Dakota walked down the bar past the guys in their plaid, flannel jackets and trucker hats sitting on the stools. She turned the

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corner and reached over the stranger slapping the beer bottle on the bar with a thud. She inhaled as she leaned over him. Bear. Nice. He turned around with a surprised look on his face. His eyes were a fierce dark brown but they had a gentleness to them. He was wearing a tight gray t-shirt that showed off his hard, jacked body underneath. A tattoo peeked out from under his sleeve, tempting her to roll it up and look at the rest. “Is this for me?” he asked, turning his body around on the stool. He was facing her with his feet on the stool rung and his legs open. Dakota planted her feet on the floor, resisting the urge to slide in between them and get closer. “You looked like you needed a refill,” she said, locking her eyes on his. “I’ve never had a girl buy me a beer before,” he said. She highly doubted that.

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“Well your streak is about to continue,” she said with a smirk. “Four fifty.” He pulled out some bills and flipped through them, looking at the numbers. “I’m still not used to this Canadian money.” He handed her a ten and waved for her to keep the change. “Where you from?” she asked, genuinely curious and not just making the usual waitress small talk. “Michigan. And you?” he asked, quickly looking down her body before meeting her eyes again. “Are you from here?” “Nobody is from here,” she chuckled. “Except for maybe Leo and Walter.” “Who?” he asked. “Never mind. You’ll find out soon enough.” A table in the distance was trying to get her attention for another round. They had a forest of empty beer bottles pushed together in the middle of the table. She could see them out of her peripheral vision but

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acted like she couldn’t; a skill that every server on the planet learned quickly on in their job. She turned, giving her back to the table, wanting to spend a few more minutes with this bear shifter who was getting her heart racing. “What brings you up to lovely Laughlin City?” she asked, not wanting any awkward silence to make her move on. She knew why he was here. There was only one reason to be all the way up here in the armpit of the world. She laughed the first time that she arrived in the ‘City.’ There were three shops, a post office and this crappy bar. “I got a job with Cash Logging,” he said. He took a swig of his beer. She swallowed as she watched his Adam’s apple dip on his powerful neck. “First day tomorrow.” “Cool,” she said, nodding. She was at a loss for words with this one and Dakota was never at a loss for words. He was throwing her off her game.

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“What about you?” he asked, eying her. “This doesn’t seem like the place that has hot women flocking to it.” Wait did he just call me hot? “The flights to Italy were all booked,” she joked. “So I came here instead.” He looked around and frowned. “No offense but I think you made the wrong decision. Italy is gorgeous and this is…well the opposite.” “You’ve been to Italy?” she asked. “I’ve always wanted to go.” Dakota had always dreamed of going ever since she was a kid. There was just something about it that seemed magical. “I’ll bring you there one day,” he said. “I promise.” I hope he’s one who keeps his promises. “What’s with the cage?” he asked, gesturing to the metal monster in the back of the bar.

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“That there is the night’s entertainment,” she said, glancing at his flexed bicep as he took another sip. “We call it the Ultimate Shifting Championship.” His brown eyes were sparkling. Dakota recognized that look. She’d see him up there soon enough. “It’s a fighting cage?” he asked with a grin on his delicious lips. She nodded. “First round is human form, bare knuckles,” she explained. “Second round, animal form. Third round, if it makes it to the third round, is human form, with baseball bats. First one to tap out or go limp loses.” His face was lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. “You might want to take it easy on your first night,” she said, placing a hand on his hard, muscular shoulder. She couldn’t resist. “These guys go pretty hard and you don’t

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want to be too banged up for your first day tomorrow.” He nodded but had his eyes locked on the cage. “Dakota!” a guy at the table behind her called out, frustrated at her slacking off. “What?” she yelled back. “We’re thirsty,” the big one whined. “There’s a sink in the bathroom,” she shot back. She gave him a look that made his head slink down and his eyes sink to the carved up table. “I should get back to work,” she said softly to the new guy. “Are you going to need that back?” he asked, looking with a smirk at her hand still on his shoulder. “Right,” she said, taking her tingling hand back. “If you need another beer I’m-” “Dakota,” he said, finishing her sentence. “Beautiful name.”

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Heat rushed to her cheeks and she glanced down at the bruised floors to hide their redness. “I’m Grayson,” he said. She smiled at him as her body suddenly flooded with warmth. Her inner bear purred inside her, content with the new man’s presence. Seems like she wasn’t the only one interested in the new man in town. “Dakota!” the guy behind her yelled out again in frustration. “What?!?” She spun around with fire in her eyes. She marched to the table with her hands on her hips. The big bear shifter slunk down looking like a scared mouse as Dakota stood over him. “Yell at me again like that Cliff and I’ll drag you into that cage and embarrass you in front of all of Laughlin City.” The guys around them slapped the tables and cheered. Dakota was tough as

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nails and they all knew it. Nobody talked to her like that. The lights in the bar dimmed as the florescent lights over the metal cage lit up. The guys perked up in their chairs, turning their heads to the back of the bar. The show was about to start.

two Grayson had heard about this sort of thing: shifter cage fighting. He had always wanted to try it. He wasn’t the largest shifter but his grizzly bear loved to scrap and so did he. Grayson had spent his youth fighting in the streets of Detroit. His single mother was always at work and he spent the days roaming the streets, fighting the other kids who threw beer bottles at him and called him a freak. He learned how to use his fists pretty quickly and as he grew older, stronger and more muscular the kids started avoiding him like the bogeyman. He fought less and less but he had missed the thrill of hand to hand combat. The sexy waitress, Dakota, who he was talking to was giving the bar a show as she

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chewed out that big bear shifter who had yelled at her. It was a nice warm up to the real fight about to happen. Grayson watched the hot waitress with a grin as she held her own and made the man, twice her size, cower like a little kitten. She was feisty. And just his type. Maybe Laughlin City won’t be so bad after all. Grayson’s bear had been too agitated living in the city and to make matters worse his bear had begun pining for a mate. Grayson had seen an ad in the newspaper about this logging company that was hiring. ‘Cut down trees like a true animal! We pay cash at Cash Logging.’ It couldn’t have been more clear than that. The company was looking for shifters. He decided to give it a try. To let his bear live in the woods for once where he belonged. To live among his species like a real shifter. It

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was a good idea in theory until he saw the completely unimpressive Laughlin City. But now it didn’t seem to be that bad after all. They had shifter cage fighting and that curvy waitress was giving him the eyes. The beer was warm as shit but despite that he was liking this place so far. The lights dimmed as the blinding, fluorescent lights over the metal cage clicked on. Grayson squeezed his beer bottle in excitement as a short man in a top hat tapped on a microphone in the middle of the cage. He had a long, black mustache that curled up at the ends. The stocky bartender hit the stereo behind the bar, shutting off the music. All ears were on the announcer. “Alright you shit heads,” the announcer bellowed over the scratchy speakers. “Who’s ready to bleed?” The men looked around at each other trying to see who was going to volunteer

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next. Grayson’s adrenaline kicked in and his pulse started to race. He wanted to go up there. Bad. He bit his lip and looked around. Fuck it. “I’ll volunteer,” he said, standing up and lifting his hand in the air. “Alright the new kid on the block,” the announcer said. “Who’s going to give him a proper welcome to Laughlin City?” Grayson could see the other men sizing him up. Nobody was stepping forward. The waitress was staring at him with a look of shock on her pretty face. “I’ll fight him,” a guy with a mullet and a red trucker hat said, standing up. Grayson locked eyes with him. That guy had been glaring at him from across the room when the waitress, Dakota, was flirting with him. “Go Brad!” a guy at his table cheered. It was eerily quiet. The men in the bar kept looking at Grayson with nervous

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glances. Even the announcer was watching him, swallowing hard. “Well come on up,” the announcer finally said. Brad sprinted to the cage, yanking his shirt off over his head before he even got there. His body was made up of hard muscles and covered with tiny scars. Grayson walked forward trying to get a whiff of his challenger’s animal. Bear? Lion? He couldn’t tell. There were so many shifters in here that it smelled like a fucking city zoo in a July heat wave. It didn’t matter how good Grayson’s sense of smell was there was no way one shifter’s scent would make it through the stench. The waitress made her way through the crowd trying to cut Grayson off on his way to the cage. He smiled at her as she walked in front of him. She coughed and mumbled something that sounded like “lose.”

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Yeah right. She must have inhaled way too much cigar smoke if she thought that Grayson was going to throw a fight. Especially to that little fucker who had been staring him down all night. He walked up the steps of the cage and pulled off his shirt. Brad was in the cage bouncing around throwing his arms in the air and shadow boxing. Grayson could tell by the way that he kept his fists low and moved his body, telegraphing his punches that he was no real fighter. This would probably be over in the first minute.

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Dakota bit her nails as she watched Grayson enter the fighting cage. She tried to warn him to throw the fight as subtly as she could but she didn’t think that it worked. He flashed her a look that said ‘are you crazy?’ Nobody was allowed to beat Walter Cash’s son and all of Laughlin City, except for Brad himself, knew that. He was probably the worst fighter in here but he was undefeated. “Does your new friend know to roll over and show his belly like a good little bear?” Luke asked, gently pulling her hand down from her mouth. He was always trying to get Dakota to stop biting her nails. “No,” she said nervously. Grayson pulled his shirt off in one swift movement. His body was jacked and rippling with hard muscles. His stomach had a perfect six pack that looked like it was carved out of granite. Dakota swallowed as he

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tossed his shirt on an empty stool beside the cage. Her heart was pounding. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Luke chuckled beside her. He was laughing at how transfixed she was by this guy. She didn’t care. Hiding her attraction meant taking her eyes off him and there was no way that she was going to be doing that. Grayson’s biceps flexed as he slid his jeans down his strong thighs. She caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his arm when he turned. It was the head of a roaring bear. Modeled after himself? He entered the metal cage and stood in place, staring at Brad who was bouncing around with his fists in the air. Leo, the announcer, watched Grayson with an uneasy look on his face. This was going to go bad if he won. And by the look of his hard, muscular body and calm demeanor, he was.

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“Fighters approach,” Leo bellowed into the mic. The crowd cheered and looked on in excitement. This might be a better show than normal. They were all waiting for Brad to get his due. Dakota bit her fingernails nervously as Walter whispered to the gorilla shifter next to him. The rhino shifter and logging company boss never took his intense eyes off of Grayson. “First round,” Leo continued. The two fighters approached the mic, staring at each other. Brad was bouncing around and taunting Grayson, who was standing as still as a tree. “Human forms only.” “He doesn’t look like he’s going to play nice,” Luke said, beside Dakota. “No he certainly doesn’t,” she said, biting her nails again. “The rules,” Leo hollered through the crappy speakers. “A fighter taps out you stop.

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A fighter goes limp you stop. That’s it. You got all that new kid?” Grayson nodded, never taking his eyes off his opponent. “Touch paws and make it official,” Leo said. Grayson put his fists out to touch. Brad laughed and stuck his middle finger in Grayson’s face. They backed up to opposite sides of the cage as Leo rushed through the cage door. He locked it with a padlock and then rang the large bell as he climbed down the stairs. The bar cheered and the men rushed around the cage, elbowing and pushing to get a better look. Dakota climbed onto the bar and stood up, watching over everybody’s heads. Grayson strolled forward with his fists in the air as Brad rushed to meet him with his hands held too low. Dakota bit her nails as she watched. Nobody ever really hit Brad

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so he never had to defend himself. He didn’t cover his chin up with his arms and was leaving himself wide open. Dakota had seen enough of these fights to know how this was going to go. She glanced at Brad’s father, Walter. He was watching with an intense stare. She gulped. “Lose, lose,” she whispered to herself as the two fighters circled. Brad was a showboat. He was doing karate kicks in the air like Bruce Lee and trying to impress the crowd with acrobatic moves. He didn’t realize that the whole bar hated him. Grayson was watching unimpressed, his face stoic and stern. Brad rushed him, throwing a wild overhand right that would have landed on anyone else, because they would’ve let it, but Grayson ducked easily out of the way. Grayson launched a knee into Brad’s ribs and Dakota could feel the impact and

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hear the crack of his ribs from all the way at the bar. Brad dropped to his hands and knees. His eyes were wide and panicky. He had never been hit that hard before. Grayson circled him, letting him catch his breath and stand back up. There were no rules and he could’ve stomped him out right there but he let him back up. Brad pushed back up to his feet, clutching a rib. He rushed him again with a wild punch. Grayson countered with a jab to his jaw. The crack sounded like a baseball player hitting a home run. This time Grayson didn’t let up. He pounced on him with a flurry of fists hitting Brad four or five more times as he fell to the canvas. “He’s limp,” Leo yelled, jumping up. “Fight is over.” All eyes were on the rhino shifter Walter. He was sitting calmly but breathing

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heavily as he stared at the new guy who just knocked out his son. Grayson climbed out of the cage as the two goons from Walter’s table rushed into the cage and dragged out Brad. He was waking up, mumbling something incoherent as he rolled his head from side to side. Grayson pulled his jeans on and slipped his shirt over his head. Ah damn. People were staring at him in awe as he strolled through the tables back to his bar stool. Leo turned the lights off. He kept giving quick, nervous glances to Walter. Dakota knew what he was thinking. He didn’t want his bar getting fucked up in another brawl. The two goons placed Brad on his seat and he was finally able to hold his head up, but his eyes were still rolling around and looking dazed. “Are you going to stand up there all night?” Luke asked. “The fight is over.”

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“Right,” Dakota said, climbing down from the bar. Grayson was waving her over. She swallowed hard and then went to meet him. “Impressive,” she said, leaning over the bar that was cruelly between them, keeping them apart. “You didn’t hear my little warning?” “I knew I could take him,” he said, taking the last sip of his beer. “I could take him,” she hissed. “That’s the son of the town boss. There’s an unwritten rule here. You don’t beat Brad Cash.” “I was never one to follow rules,” he said. “Oh please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Spare me the after school special, tough guy speech. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He ran his hand over his shaved head. “Can you send him over a beer?” he asked, gently. “And one for me too please?”

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“Yes for him,” Dakota said, “No for you. You should leave before they get any drunker.” She pushed off the bar, pissed off. She grabbed a beer out of the fridge and slammed it closed. Why are guys so stupid? she asked herself as she ripped the bottle cap off the beer. And why are they so hot? Dakota walked over to Walter’s table and placed the beer bottle in front of Brad. He was fully alert, sitting with his shoulders slumped and sulking. “You looked good up there,” she said, trying to help the situation. “This is from your opponent.” Brad grabbed the beer as he stared at the table. He stretched his arm out and tilted the bottle, pouring the entire beer on the floor. “Now clean it up,” he said, never taking his eyes off the table.

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Dakota’s heart was pounding. Her bear surged forward at the insult and she was only just barely able to hold her back. She had to resist every urge to drag this fucker by his hair back into the cage for round two. “I’ll get Luke to clean it up,” she said through a clenched jaw. Brad’s eyes went wide as they shot up to the stocky bartender making his way over. Even Brad was scared of Luke. “I’m going to turn you upside down and use your hair as a fucking mop,” Luke hissed, glaring at him. The goons at the table jumped up, ready to go. Leo rushed over. “Get back behind the bar,” he yelled at Luke. Luke wasn’t moving. “Sorry about this Walter,” Luke said. “Let me bring a round on the house.” Walter pushed his chair back and stood up, the chair taking a breath of relief to have the huge shifter off of it.

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“We’re leaving,” he said. He tossed a thick wad of money onto the table and snapped his fingers. The two goons and his son Brad followed him like little fish following a killer whale. The entire bar was watching as they passed Grayson. Dakota was biting her nails. Walter stopped and turned to the sexy bear shifter that just knocked out his son. “Nice fight,” he grunted. Grayson nodded his head. Walter straightened the jacket on his enormous suit and continued to the door. The goons followed with Brad in the rear. “You cheated,” he hissed at Grayson as he passed. Grayson winked at him. Brad nearly lunged at him but held himself back and left with his Daddy instead. Probably didn’t want to get knocked unconscious again. Luke hit the music back on and the whole bar breathed a sigh of relief. They all

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turned back to their tables to discuss what just happened. “Can I get that beer now?” Grayson asked as Dakota strutted over. She smiled. Things could have gone much worse. The only casualty was the beer that Brad had poured out on the floor. Dakota grabbed a beer from the back of the fridge where they were slightly cool, opened it and slapped it in front of him. “This one’s on me,” she said. “So you’re not mad at me?” he asked with a smirk. “I wish you didn’t do that but I’m so glad that you did. I’ve been wanting to see that twerp get slapped for years.” “Well then cheers to that,” he said, raising the bottle before taking a sip. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” she asked, admiring his chest as he took a drink.

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“They don’t like shifters where I come from,” he said. “They don’t like shifters anywhere,” she said. “Can I take you out one night?” he asked. She smiled shyly, feeling her neck flush red. “Where are you going to take me?” she asked. “You have to take a Cessna to the closest restaurant.” “I’ll figure it out,” he said. “All I need from you is a yes.” She glanced over her shoulder at Luke. He was drying a glass, pretending not to listen. Why not? It had been so long since she had been on a date. “Alright,” she said. “You can take me on a date. But it better be good.” “It will be the best,” he said, grinning. “It will be so good that it will be our

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grandkids’ favorite story and they’ll love to hear you tell it.” “Easy there Muhammad Ali,” she said, raising a hand but smiling. “Let’s see if you can pick me up on time first.” They set the date for her night off in two days.

Grayson walked out into the cool autumn night. The breeze was brisk and it chilled his hot skin. He walked to his old pickup truck with a smile on his face. That was a good night. He won a fight, drank some beer and got a date with the hot

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cowgirl behind the bar. Laughlin City was turning out pretty good. He froze in the parking lot as he felt vibrations in the ground. He spun on his heels. Brad was walking towards him holding a baseball bat. And that wasn’t the worst part. There was a gorilla and a polar bear standing behind him. Oh shit. Grayson was a good fighter but even he couldn’t match up to three shifters. He slipped his keys into his pocket and stepped one foot back into his fighting stance. “One beating wasn’t enough for you?” Grayson asked. “You cheated,” Brad said, tapping the baseball bat in his hand. “And you embarrassed me.” “You embarrassed yourself,” Grayson said, glancing around, sizing up his options. He wasn’t one to run from a fight but he

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wasn’t one to race into a situation that he couldn’t handle either. “Maybe you should try another activity like table tennis or origami.” His grizzly bear grumbled inside him, ready to go. Stay close buddy I might need you. Grayson glanced at the gorilla. He was huge. He bared his teeth flashing his long, yellow fangs. Grayson gulped. He had never fought a gorilla before. They were fast, vicious and way more agile than bears. He had seen gorillas fight before and he wasn’t about to try fighting one while also dealing with a polar bear and a shifter with a baseball bat. Brad stepped forward with a smirk on his face that made Grayson ignore every survival instinct in him begging him to run. He had to stay and wipe that smirk off Brad’s face.

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The whole parking lot rumbled and shook. Two car alarms went off as Grayson glanced down at the cement. Earthquake. But he was wrong. He saw a gray flash over his shoulder as a force hit him and thrust him off his feet. It felt like a Mack truck slammed into his back. A Mack truck with a spear on its grill. “Gahh,” Grayson grunted as a white ivory horn speared through his body. The horn as thick as a watermelon sliced through his back and ripped out the front of his stomach turning his six pack into a three pack. His teeth clenched so hard that they almost cracked. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hide the image of the white horn covered in his blood, tearing through his stomach. He took quick, raspy breaths as the rhino shook his head, sending him flying from side to side and ripping the massive wound open.

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Grayson held onto the horn and tried to pull himself up but his arms had no energy. He was lightheaded and fading fast. This was it. This is how you’re going to die. In a parking lot of a shitty bar. It was fitting. Dakota flashed in his mind and he felt regret. Regret that he would miss their date. The rhino jerked his head to the side with one sharp yank and Grayson flew off the horn and landed on the pavement fifteen yards away. He could fit his fist through the hole in his stomach. He healed fast with his shifter healing but this was asking for too much. He already lost way too much blood. The world was fading around him and the last thing he saw was Brad walking toward him dragging the baseball bat on the pavement. The sound of the wood on cement was horrible. It sounded like death.

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Brad lifted the baseball bat over his shoulder but Grayson was already unconscious as it connected with his skull.

three Dakota rushed out into the parking lot with the sound of her heartbeat thrashing in her ears. Her pulse was working overtime. Cliff had returned after leaving and told them what he had seen when he was walking to his car: the new guy dead in a lake of blood. Dakota ran to the still body. His cheek was on the pavement, lying in the thick red blood. It cast a perfect reflection of his calm, beautiful face. She dropped to her knees and checked for a pulse. It was as weak as a pulse could be without being dead. She pushed his arm over and looked at the wound. Fucking Walter. Only a rhino horn could leave a wound like that. A rhino horn or a flagpole. I’ll kill Walter myself if he dies.

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The edges of the wound had been healing but it looked like it had stopped. He was dying. The nearest hospital was a four hour plane ride. Shifters usually didn’t need hospitals. Dakota scooped him up in her arms and lifted him out of the puddle of blood. His head rolled back on her arms and his jaw fell open, his mouth slack. His eyes, which had been a mesmerizing dark brown, were cloudy and vacant. If he was going to die it wasn’t going to be on the pavement of a cold parking lot. “What are you doing D?” Luke whispered behind her. She hadn’t heard him creep up. “He’s not going to make it.” She glanced back over her shoulder. The drunks were pouring out to see the show. Dakota was determined not to let his last moments be a drunken spectacle. He would die in peace. In a bed.

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“Just close up the bar will you?” she asked, a tremble snaking through her chin. Luke looked at her with soft eyes. He nodded. Dakota carried him around the building to the steep wooden steps that led up to the small loft over the bar. She rented it out from Leo for one hundred and fifty dollars a month. She carried him up the stairs, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. “Everyone back inside,” Luke hollered to the crowd below her. Dakota opened the door and placed him on her bed. The blood would soak through the sheets and ruin the mattress but she didn’t care. She would sleep on the floor from now on. He was going to die in a bed. That’s the least that she could do. Grayson’s eyes were closed. Little beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and his body shook with feverish shivers.

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Dakota sat beside him, stroking his shaved head and watching his sleeping face. He looked so angelic. She wiped the tears from her wet eyes, leaned down and kissed his still lips. They were still warm. When she sat back up and looked at him a force hit her like a stun gun. She couldn’t move her eyes. They were locked on him. Her bedroom began to fade away, turning black as night. She felt a pull to the dying shifter who was in full, vivid color against the black backdrop that used to be her room. Her bear was bonding to him. This Grayson was her mate. Her head jerked back as the force released her. Her vision cleared and the floral bedspread stained with blood and the light blue walls came back into focus. Dakota began to weep. Why? She hissed to her bear. Why would you bond to a dying man?

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She peeled the soaking red t-shirt up his stomach. The wound was closing. Her trembling hand flew to her mouth and she began laughing of all things. Her shoulders shook as tears poured down her laughing cheeks. His breathing was getting stronger and more steady. The bleeding had more or less stopped. He looked like he was going to be okay. Her mate was going to be okay.

Grayson opened his eyes and groaned. His mouth was dry and his head was

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pounding like a jackhammer. His vision was blurry as he looked around. “Shhh,” a girl’s voice said as she stroked his forehead, guiding his head back to the pillow. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut and winced as he sat up. His whole torso was on fire. “Where am I?” he asked, opening his eyes. The girl with the cowboy hat from the bar, Dakota, was at his side. “You’re in my bed,” she whispered. “I thought I’d have to buy you dinner first,” he said, clutching his ribs and grimacing as he chuckled. “Normally it takes a few dates,” she said, “but the gaping hole in your stomach let you have a pass.” He glanced down and winced. Every movement hurt. There was a pink circle on his stomach fucking up his nice abs. “What

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the fuck happened? Did I get shot with a cannonball?” “You got speared by a rhino,” she said, trying to get him to lie back down. He resisted the temptation to lie back down on the comfy pillow. Incomplete flashes of getting jerked around in the air like a piñata ran through his mind. That fucker had came from behind. Cowards. Grayson swung his leg off the bed. His legs were weak. He wasn’t sure if he could stand up yet. “What are you doing?” she asked in panic. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had never felt so weak before. “I have to start work in…” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Four hours.” Shit. “You can’t go to work like this,” Dakota said, looking worried. “I can’t miss my first day,” he answered. “They’ll fire me. And this is all I have.”

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She was about to say something but she held her tongue. He swung his other leg over the bed and breathed heavily, the energy of just doing that drained him. “You know that your boss is the one that did this to you, right?” she asked. “Well hopefully he got all of his frustration out and we can start over,” he said. He tried to push up but his arms weren’t cooperating. She jumped in front of him. Her voluptuous breasts and tempting cleavage was at his eye level. His blood had stained her shirt and jeans. This was not what he had in mind when he pictured himself being in her bed. “You can’t leave like this,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders, bringing her perfect breasts closer to his face. His inner bear grumbled. Haven’t you been through enough tonight?

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“If you stay I’ll let you sleep with me,” she said. His cock stiffened just from hearing the words. He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to do all of the work,” he said. “I don’t think I can hold myself up.” “Not sex you maniac,” she said, pushing off his shoulders. He winced. The pain was starting to subside but was still there in force. “You nearly died,” she said. “I’ll sleep next to you.” He glanced at the blood soaked bed. It looked like the scene of a horror movie. “I have a pullout couch,” she said. She walked to the closet and grabbed a white towel. “Go shower that blood off and then you can rest.” He groaned. A hot shower did sound nice. She helped him up and he stumbled to the shower. She walked with him, holding

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his side. Her breasts brushed against his ribs. He was in pain and he was exhausted but he was still getting hard at the feel of her voluptuous chest. He held in a chuckle. His body was half dead but it still decided to send what little energy he had into an erection. They walked across the tiny loft. Dakota had a twin bed, an old sofa, an even older TV, a small kitchenette with yellow appliances but the place was cute. She took care and pride in it, decorating it with nice curtains, freshly cut flowers everywhere and nice pictures on the wall. They entered the small bathroom and Dakota turned to leave. “I can’t take my shirt off,” Grayson lied. He was a bit more mobile than he was letting on. Dakota helped him slide the wet shirt off his body. She tossed it in the garbage can.

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“I don’t think you’ll be wearing that one again.” She swallowed as she turned back to his shirtless body. “Can you help with my pants?” he asked. She looked at him with a skeptical face. “Was all of this just a plan to get me to take off your clothes?” Grayson nodded. “Those guys are actually my best friends.” “Well I’m honored that you would get mangled for me,” she said. She unbuckled his jeans. Her arms pressed her breasts together as she worked, amplifying her cleavage and making him harder. She slid her hands into his jeans and ran her palms down the area that could be debated whether it was his ass or thigh. His jeans tumbled down to his ankles and she sank down, helping to guide his feet out of them.

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“Oh my,” she said, when she looked up. The long shape of his erection could be seen in perfect view. It was at her eye level. She bit her lip and looked up, not moving her face from the closeness of it. “Looks like you’re all better,” she said with a grin. “No,” he lied, clutching his ribs. “It still really hurts.” “I should have left you in that parking lot,” she said with a smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “I got it.” He leaned down, reached for his underwear and cried out in fake pain. He clutched his ribs. And the Academy Award goes to… “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. She hooked her fingers into his underwear and pulled them down his legs. His hard cock sprang out, so close to her face. Dakota licked her lips as she glanced quickly at it. “There you go,” she said, standing up and looking at the sink. Her neck and cheeks

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were flushed red. She was breathing heavily. “Just watch the water. It goes from ice to lava in the blink of an eye.” She rushed out of the bathroom and closed the door before he could say ‘thank you.’ Or before he could invite her in.

Dakota stared at her light green eyes in the bathroom mirror. It took every ounce of self control that she had not to shove that cock in her mouth. Her bear had wanted it. She had wanted it. So why didn’t she? Let him take you out for dinner first.

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She turned around and hopped in the shower. She had set Grayson up in the other room on the pullout bed. All of his clothes were ruined and he was naked under the sheets. Dakota let the water run over her face and moaned as she pictured him lying there. Naked. That was her mate. She could do whatever she wanted with her mate. Couldn’t she? She finished her shower and towel dried her hair. She slipped her robe on and opened the door. Grayson was lying in the bed on his side, sleeping. Dakota flicked the lamp off turning the loft into darkness. She walked up to the empty side of the pullout bed and slipped off her robe. She crawled in between the sheets as naked as him. She knew that she would regret it in the morning and be scrambling to cover up but

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right now she just wanted to lie beside her mate with nothing between them. His presence beside her felt nice. Dakota hated sleeping alone. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you,” she whispered back, “for not dying.” He turned around and faced her. They both laid on their pillows gazing at each other in the darkness. Grayson’s body convulsed and the white part of his eyes began to cloud over as she watched in horror with her night vision. What the? Oh. She smiled warmly. He was bonding back to her. A warm shiver shot through her body as she watched him. He was transfixed on her. His head jerked back and the blackness in his eyes floated away like clouds being blown away by the wind. He stared at her with a new look in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking

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because she had been thinking the same thing. “That…I…You…” he said, not making any sense. She stroked his cheek, leaned in and kissed his lips. Their tongues brushed against each other in a slow, tender kiss. It was soft and deep. It was the most intimate kiss that Dakota ever had. “Did your bear?” he asked after they finally pulled away. She nodded. His eyes, which were lifeless only an hour ago were bright and sparkling. “We’re mates.” “That’s awesome,” he said, his face lighting up in a smile. She kissed him again in a full bodied kiss full of passion and heat. Their hands slid over each other’s bodies as they inched closer. Her nipples hardened as they brushed against his chest.

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His cock was hard and ready. It poked her thigh, drawing a moan from her. Their hands explored each other’s bodies as their mouths molded together. Dakota’s insides were on fire. She wanted him more than she could handle. Her pussy was wet and throbbing, her breathing fast and fierce. She raised her knee over his leg and he arched his hips up, guiding his cock up to her pussy with his hand. He shifted his hips and drove into her with one long, quick stroke. She pulled her mouth away from his and moaned as he filled her. Fuck that feels good. There was no shame. No thoughts of this is too soon. He was her mate and this was the most natural thing in the world. She tightened her leg around his thigh as he found a quick, steady pace. Their chests vibrated and purred as their bears spoke to each other.

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Grayson grabbed her ass and tilted her hips up to drive in further. Every thrust hit the right spots as if their bodies were perfectly designed for each other. His body was so hard, his muscles jacked. Male bear shifters were carved out of rock where the females were made softer. Her heart was thumping and her toes curled as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm. She rocked her hips into him, slamming her aching clit into his hard pelvis. She wanted to come. It was all she could think about. She didn’t have to wait long. She screamed out as a pulsing orgasm slashed through her. Grayson released at the same time as her, filling her with his hot seed. The flood of heat consumed her; body and soul. She dropped her head letting the high take her. When it finally subsided they held each other, totally spent and barely able to keep

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their eyes open. They had been through a lot and were utterly exhausted. They fell asleep in each other’s arms with the alarm clock on poor Grayson’s phone about to go off in thirty six minutes.

four Grayson hurried out of Dakota’s place and ran to his company issued trailer that was a ten minute walk away. It was still dark in the early morning. He had slept about half an hour but it was worth it. It was always worth trading in sleep for sex. Especially with a smoking hot cowgirl slash mate. He jerked his arm, trying to stretch out the snug shirt. Dakota had run down to the bar and found some clothes in the employee break room that belonged to the bartender. They were a little tight on Grayson but hey, bleeders can’t be choosers. He ran down the line of trailers as the loggers began to come out of their tiny homes. They watched him run by like they were watching a ghost; with wide eyes and

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open mouths. One guy even spilled his coffee on his pants. Grayson didn’t have time to explain. He ran into his trailer, which wasn’t more than a tiny propane stove, cot, bathroom and seating area for one and changed. He had to be at the bus stop on time. He threw on a pair of faded jeans that went past his ankles unlike the bartender’s pants, grabbed an old Ramones t-shirt and slipped on his flannel jacket. He grabbed a handful of beef jerky that he bought on the drive up and away he went. He merged into the wave of men making their daily commute to the bus stop. It sure was different than the bumper to bumper, morning traffic in Detroit. I can get used to this. “Do you have a twin?” someone behind him asked. He looked over his shoulder at a guy walking behind him. He had long brown hair

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tied back in a ponytail and looked harmless enough. Grayson sniffed the air. Grizzly bear. “No,” Grayson grunted. “I’ve never seen anyone survive something like that,” the guy said, catching up to him and walking beside him. “I’m Wyatt,” he said holding out his hand. Grayson looked at Wyatt’s open hand. So far everyone he had met up here with the exception of Dakota had wanted to kill him. He reluctantly shook his hand. “Grayson.” “You look like you need some coffee,” he said. “Hunter. Pour this guy a cup.” Two more guys came up on Grayson’s other side. “I’m Hunter,” one of them said pouring a cup of coffee from his large Thermos and handing it to him. His arms were covered in tribal tattoos. “Sorry we don’t have milk or sugar.” “The grocery store in town only gets a milk shipment once a week and they go fast,”

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the third guy said. “I’m Jack by the way.” Jack had a long beard with a reddish tint to it. Grayson nodded at him. He sipped the warm, bitter coffee. He hated it black but this was much needed this morning. It warmed his insides on the way down. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” Wyatt asked. “Wyatt needs some pointers,” Jack said, laughing. “He got his ass handed to him by a lion last night before you arrived.” “Shut up Jack,” he barked back. “At least I had the guts to go up there.” “I have the guts,” Jack said, trying to put a band-aid on his wounded ego. “I just…had better things to do.” “Like what?” Wyatt asked. “Drink?” “Exactly,” Jack said with a smile. “There’s nothing more important than that.” The wave of men came to a stop as they bottlenecked on the way into the bus. Large,

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faded, blue chips of paint were curling off the old bus, showing the coating of rust below. There were bars on the windows and it said Reekham Correctional Facility in barely visible block letters along the side. “Does this remind you of something?” Jack asked, nudging Hunter’s tattooed arm with his elbow. “Every morning?” Hunter asked, opening his arms. “You’re going to make this joke every morning?” “Only until it stops being funny,” Jack said. “It stopped being funny four months ago,” Hunter said. “Actually it was never funny.” Wyatt leaned in close to Grayson. “Hunter was in the big house.” “The big house?” Grayson asked. These guys seemed like they fit into a frat house more than a prison.

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“Oh yeah,” Wyatt said, raising his voice. “Hunter was one of America’s most wanted.” “Shut up,” Hunter said shaking his head. Jack was laughing. “What did you do?” Grayson asked. They were getting closer to the bus. Jack was the first on. “Robbery,” Hunter said, stepping on the bus. Grayson followed him up the three stairs. Maybe these guys weren’t the boy scouts that they seemed to be. “Tell him what you were robbing,” Wyatt said, getting on last. The four of them sat on two benches one behind the other. Wyatt sat beside Grayson. Hunter rolled his eyes. “I was nineteen and trying to steal back a radio that someone on my street stole from me.” “Tell him how you escaped,” Jack said, laughing.

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Hunter glared at him before shaking his head and continuing. “I escaped up the chimney.” “And?” Jack said. “And I got stuck. For eleven hours.” Jack and Wyatt burst out laughing. Grayson couldn’t help but join in. “They had to break the chimney,” Hunter said, releasing a chuckle himself. “We call him Santa Claws,” Wyatt explained. “How long did you go to jail for?” Grayson asked, laughing along with the three guys. “One year,” Hunter said. “For robbery?” Grayson asked. “You must’ve had the worst lawyer.” “I represented myself,” he answered. “Of course you did,” Jack said, stroking his long beard. The bus started and bumped along as Grayson’s new friends took turns insulting

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and teasing each other. He tried to listen and join in but it was hard. He kept thinking of Dakota. He had found his mate. In this shit town of all places. The sex had been incredible. Unlike anything that he had ever experienced before. It was so intimate. It felt so right. They were making love rather than just fucking. He swallowed hard, wondering when he’d get to do it again. “We’re here,” Hunter said, looking out the window. They stepped off the bus and Grayson looked around. They were in a loading zone in the middle of the forest. There were fallen trees strewn about everywhere with shifters dragging new ones to the growing pile. “Where is all of the heavy machinery?” Grayson asked, looking around and seeing nothing.

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“Right here,” Jack said, slapping Grayson’s arm. “Why do you think there’s only shifters up here?” “Later boys,” Hunter said taking off. “Bye Santa Claws,” both Jack and Wyatt said together. “Where’s he going?” Grayson asked. “To the river,” Wyatt answered. “He’s a log driver.” “Like those old time videos of the guys walking on logs as they fly down the river?” Grayson asked. “Welcome to the nineteen twenties,” Wyatt said, walking with him. “We do things the old school way up here.” A dozen men at the tree line burst into enormous gorillas. They ran into the forest, jumping onto the trees and crying out. “HOO HOO HOO,” they bellowed as they disappeared into the thick forest. The treetops were shaking as they moved.

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“Wow,” Grayson whispered. It was like shifter heaven here. Wyatt pointed to the crooked mobile trailer that was resting on muddy cinder blocks. “That’s the bosses’ trailer.” He glanced down at Grayson’s stomach. “You’ve met him before.” “Thanks guys,” Grayson said. It was always nice to know someone on your first day of work. “Good luck buddy,” Jack said, slapping him on the back and walking off. Grayson took a deep breath and walked up to the trailer. It was leaning heavily to one side, the other side stuck in the air like a sinking ship. The window was open and cigar smoke was snaking out. He knocked on the door. “What?” a deep voice yelled out. “It’s my first day,” Grayson said. “I don’t know where to go.”

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The door opened and Brad stood in the entrance looking down at him with a grin that was just begging to be smacked off his weaselly face. “Who is it?” the voice barked from inside the trailer. “You’re gonna love this Daddy,” Brad said. He stepped to the side. “Please come in.” Grayson gritted his teeth together as he walked in. The huge rhino shifter who sucker speared him last night was sitting behind a tiny desk smoking a fat cigar between his even fatter fingers. Grayson brought his bear close. Be ready buddy. He wasn’t about to face the rhino again in his human form. It didn’t turn out to great for him the last time. “So you’re the new bear,” Walter, the rhino, grunted. He bit down on the cigar in his mouth as he smiled the ugliest smile

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Grayson had ever seen. A big piece of ash fell off the tip of the cigar and exploded into gray powder on his protruding stomach. “I got hired last week,” Grayson said. His contract was on the desk in front of Walter. “Should I just go?” “No, no,” Walter said, scanning the paper. “You’re on contract. This is work. Let’s not let a little after work shenanigans get in the way of our business agreements.” ‘After work shenanigans’ was an interesting way to describe attempted murder. “Where should we put this guy?” Walter asked Brad. Brad smiled mischievously. This wasn’t going to be good. “Put him in the pit,” Brad said. “I’ll take care of him.” Walter nodded as he placed the contract in a desk drawer. “Welcome to Cash Logging. You’ve met my son Brad. He’s the pit supervisor and your new boss.”

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Brad had his arms crossed and his chin in the air, trying to hide his smirk. Grayson exhaled, trying to release the slight tenseness in his muscles. Normally he would get the fuck out this town rather than work for two psychos who wanted him dead but that was no longer an option. His mate was up here. And he wasn’t going anywhere as long as Dakota was here. Even if it meant risking his life.

“Watch yourself cheater,” Brad warned as they walked to the pit. “I don’t know what

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you did to make me lose last night but I won’t forget it anytime soon.” Grayson bit his lip. Brad was his boss now. He had to hold his tongue. “And Dakota is mine,” Brad said. Grayson’s bear growled at the threat to his mate. This he couldn’t let slide. “Listen to me close,” Grayson said, stepping into Brad’s personal space. He kept his voice low and controlled. “I don’t care who your father is or who you think you are. If you go anywhere near Dakota again…I will end your life.” Brad gulped as he stared at him, trying hard to keep the tough guy persona on his scared face. “I don’t want that bitch anyways,” he said, trying to save face. He pointed into the forest. “The pit is in there.” Grayson looked into the dense forest and Brad hurried away back to his Daddy’s office.

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Grayson walked through the forest, looking up in awe at the tall trees. These have to be over one hundred years old. He ran his hand over a tall fir tree that the area was famous for. The bark was smooth and a gorgeous ash-gray color. This was going to be good for his bear. Long days in the forest. Working with his hands. He was determined to make the best of it. His new bosses wouldn’t be able to break his spirit. Cracks like gun shots and cannons ripped through the forest. The trees were swaying up ahead. Grayson sprinted forward, his heart pounding in excitement. What was all that noise? He emerged in a clearing. There were fallen trees everywhere. Shifters were stripping the branches with their bare hands while others were pushing down more trees. Grayson recognized two guys laughing as they toppled over a tree. He hurried over

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to them. “Hey guys,” he said to Wyatt and Jack. “You survived,” Jack said, looking surprised. Wyatt grunted as he slammed his shoulder into the tree. It creaked and then cracked loudly as it toppled over and crashed into the ground, taking a smaller tree down with it. “So you’re in the pit,” Wyatt said. “They must want you dead.” The pit was very dangerous they explained. There were monstrous trees falling down all over the place and many of the guys worked in their animal forms. The bears and gorillas didn’t always think to avoid the other men and they rarely called out a warning when a falling tree was about to land on someone’s head. Added to that were vicious fights between the dominant males of all species and you were working in a war zone. But if you didn’t die; it was fun as hell.

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“What are they doing?” Grayson asked, watching the gorillas fly through the trees. They were high up on the tall trees breaking the tops off and tossing them down into the forest below. One gorilla broke off the top of a tree and threw it down on a man walking below. “What the fuck?” the man screamed throwing the tree, the size of a normal tree, off him. He picked up a rock the size of a softball and launched it at the gorilla, hitting him right in the ass. “Hoo Hoo Ahh Aaaa,” the gorilla cried out as he jumped off the tree and landed on the man. The man exploded into a grizzly bear under him as they wrestled. “Be careful of the apes,” Wyatt warned. “They seem to aim for us.” “Why are they breaking the trees up there?” Grayson asked. “They’re high leading,” Jack explained. “They break the crown off and put a harness

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on top of the stump, which is called the high lead rigging. Then the ox shifters pull them down.” He pointed to five thick, stocky men. Their noses were flat and their square heads were enormous. One of them slung a rope over his shoulder and started walking. He didn’t even have shoes on. As he walked forward the rope that led to the top of a tree with the harness attached to it tightened. His feet dug into the mud as he pulled. The tree wobbled and then cracked as it fell down, landing behind his feet, only missing him by a yard or two. The ox shifters didn’t even react. These guys weren’t at the bar last night. Grayson definitely would have noticed them. “They don’t talk much,” Jack explained as he noticed Grayson staring at them. “They’re very tough, simple men. They keep to themselves. And they’re strong as shit. Best to stay away from them. They’re usually really calm but they can lose their temper in

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the snap of a bone. And you don’t want to be fighting one of them because you’ll be fighting all of them. They fight in packs.” The ox shifter who pulled down the tree bent down and hoisted it on his shoulder, his face calm and still, without giving so much as a grimace. Wow. That’s power. The gorilla jumped back into the tree leaving the bear that he was fighting with roaring on the ground. “Are you going to stand there all day?” Wyatt asked as he dug his shoulder into a tree trunk the size of a hot tub “We have to clear this whole area by lunch time.” Grayson smiled as he rushed forward and slammed into the trunk, helping Wyatt push it over. The top swayed as the base cracked. He pushed again, every muscle in his body flexing as the hundred year old tree toppled over, to be turned into pool tables, golf tees, Popsicle sticks or whatever.

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He got a quick shot of adrenaline as it collapsed into the forest and crashed. Grayson smiled. I can get used to this.

five “Where are my clothes?” Luke asked walking out of the employee room of the bar. Dakota kept her head down. She wiped the sticky bar with a wet rag, trying to hide a smile. “Maybe you brought them home and forgot about it.” He walked right up to her. She kept her eyes on the carved up wooden bar. “Does it have anything to do with that unconscious bear shifter that you carried into your place last night?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, opening the dishwasher. A cloud of hot steam rose up, covering her smirk. “Mmmhmm,” he said, walking away. Dakota placed the hot glasses on the shelf. She had a permanent smile on her face since

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she had woken up. Last night had been incredible. She never thought that she would meet a mate in here. The Bar Knuckle wasn’t exactly full of the mating material type. The first customers started pouring in for happy hour. They tracked their muddy boots onto the floor that she just mopped. Fucking loggers. She began serving them, her eyes darting to the door every time it opened. A little wave of disappointment hit her every time she looked up and it wasn’t Grayson. Did he survive his day? She was starting to get nervous. Maybe Walter finished off the job that he started last night. She exhaled in relief when the door opened and Grayson walked in with Wyatt, Jack and Hunter. He smiled at her and her heart started pounding in her chest. “Dakota,” the shifter at the table said waving his hand in front of her face. “Are you even listening?”

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She closed her eyes and nodded. “Of course I am Jeff. Could you just remind me though?” “Six beers, six whiskey shots,” the huge bear shifter said. “On my tab.” “Treating everyone Jeff?” she asked, glancing up at her man taking a seat with his new friends. “What’s the occasion?” “No. That’s just for me,” he grunted, crossing his arms. “He had a bad day,” another guy at the table said. “He got in a fight with a gorilla.” Dakota was hardly listening. How could she with a beautiful specimen of a man like Grayson in her presence? “That’s too bad,” she said half heartedly. She took the rest of the order and rushed over to their table. “Hey, the bar is that way,” someone called out behind her.

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“How was your first day?” she asked, trying not to sound too enthusiastic but coming off as totally enthusiastic. “I got hit with a tree,” Grayson said. “It was awesome.” “Yeah sorry again about that,” Jack said. “Your first beer is on me.” “No,” Dakota said. “The first round is on me.” “Wow,” Hunter said slapping the table and looking at Grayson. “This guy is a lucky charm.” “I’m just happy to see you guys,” she said, but keeping her eyes on her mate. “We’re happy to see you too,” Jack said with a big goofy grin. “I’ll be right back.” She walked through the tables swaying her hips a bit more than usual, just in case Grayson was watching her ass, which he probably was. “Dakota,” a table called out.

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“Be there in a minute hun,” she said, putting her hand up. She climbed under the bar and ducked down in front of the beer fridge. She began pulling out bottles looking for some cold ones in the back. “You must be in love,” Luke said, leaning over her. “Shut up,” she said, waving him off. “I’ve never seen you look for cold beer,” he said, not laying off. “Sometimes I think you choose the hottest beers on purpose.” She grabbed four bottles that were as cold as they were going to get from the barely alive fridge and stood back up. “Maybe I’m going for employee of the month.” She placed the cold beers on the edge of the tray and filled the rest of it with warm bottles. “Well there’s only three of us who work here,” Luke said, watching her line up thirteen shots on the bar. “And Leo has given

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himself employee of the month for the past forty eight months straight.” “Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asked, pouring the whiskey into the shot glasses. Luke glanced at the empty stools at his bar. “No. I really don’t.” She pushed him away and walked out with the tray full of drinks. She stopped at Jeff’s table and unloaded their order before continuing over to Grayson. She dropped four cold beers and four shots down, leaving one on the tray for her. They held up their shots. “May our sons have rich fathers and hot mothers,” Wyatt said. “I’ll drink to that,” Grayson said, smiling that sexy smile of his. The five of them slammed back their shots. Dakota held out her tray, as the liquid burned her chest, and the boys slapped the empty shot glasses on it.

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She returned to work, always keeping Grayson in her peripheral vision. She was always aware of his presence, always aware of where he was, what he was doing. She was mixing some drinks behind the bar when he walked to the bathroom signaling her with his eyes. Dakota dropped the bottle and yanked off her apron. “Luke can you finish these?” she asked as she rushed out of the bar. “I don’t even know what you’re making,” he yelled as she hurried down the hallway. “Dakota!” She just ignored him. Grayson was leaning against the wall at the end of the hall with his arms crossed. She leapt onto him and kissed his lips. “Mmmm,” she moaned tasting his beer flavored tongue. “I missed you,” he said, between kisses. She pushed him into the women’s bathroom, well her bathroom actually. She was

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the only woman who had been in the bar for the past four months. They kissed passionately and full of longing. The day had been one of the longest of her life. His hands slid up her ribs and cupped her breasts. She wanted to let him continue, to go wild but this was a bar bathroom and she was a lady after all. She slid her hands over his, letting him touch her a little while longer. “Save it for after our date tomorrow,” she moaned as he kissed her neck. Shivers shot through her as his lips worked the sensitive skin under the back of her jaw. His hands found her ass. “You do have something planned right?” she asked. “Mmm hmm,” he said as his lips made their way down her chest to her cleavage. She felt herself moistening between the legs. She had to stop this before things got out of hand.

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She put her hands on his stubbly cheeks and lifted his head up. His brown eyes were brilliant. “You promised,” she said teasing. “I quote, ‘it will be so good that it will be our grandkids’ favorite story and they’ll love to hear you tell it.’ That’s what you said.” She let out a smirk. “Don’t disappoint our future grandkids.” “Now how could I do that?” he asked, a hint of concern on his face. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” “I’ll be waiting,” she said. She fixed her shirt, checked her face in the mirror for any smudged lipstick and left the bathroom, leaving Grayson standing there trying to tame and bring down his hard-on. She walked back into the bar with a smile that wouldn’t leave. Until she saw Brad. He was sitting at a table by himself in the back corner of the bar glaring at her. She

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smiled and nodded but he just continued his icy stare. Dakota had a bad feeling about him. She turned away and hid behind the bar next to Lucas. “Cleaning the bathroom?” he asked with his eyebrow in the air. “Shut up,” she mumbled as she tried to look busy. She could still feel Brad’s cruel eyes on her. That look had felt like a threat. When she finally turned around Brad was gone.

six Grayson placed his palms on the rough bark of the tree, picturing it as Brad’s face. He shoved his shoulder into the thick pine and pushed it over. A crack like a gunshot erupted through the forest as the tree tumbled over. Brad had been on his case all day. Shit. And by the way Brad was walking over it looked like Grayson was about to get some more. “What the hell is this?” Brad shouted pointing at the tree trunk. Three ox shifters silently shuffled over to the tall tree. “What’s the problem?” Grayson asked, trying to calm his racing pulse. “That trunk is too high,” Brad said, taking a knee in front of the fallen tree. He pulled out a tape measure and ran it along

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the stump. “Three inches too high,” he complained. Grayson glanced over his shoulder at the long tree. The three ox shifters hoisted it up on their shoulders without so much as a grunt and left for the loading zone. Three inches is he fucking kidding me? “It’s got to be at least sixty meters long and you’re worried about an insignificant three inches?” Grayson asked. “Three inches is not insignificant,” he snapped. “Is that what you tell the ladies?” Grayson asked with a grin. It was a bad idea but he couldn’t resist. Brad bit his lip as his face turned a bright red. “I’m deducting that from your paycheck,” Brad hissed, pointing at the stump. “What does that work out to be?” Grayson asked. “Thirty cents?”

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“Try thirty percent.” Brad gave him one last glare as he stormed away. Grayson took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had a date with Dakota tonight. He couldn’t show up pissed off. And this spoiled brat, Brad, was not worth ruining his date over. “What was that about?” Wyatt asked, walking over. They were watching Brad chew out a mountain lion shifter. “His small dick,” Grayson said. Literally. Wyatt shrugged. “So what are you going to do for your date tonight?” Grayson ran his hand over his shaved head. That was the gazillion dollar question. Where do you take a girl when there’s no restaurant in town and your mobile home seats one and is surrounded by two hundred other men?

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He looked at Wyatt and raised his eyebrow. “I think I might need your help with that.”

Dakota’s breath caught in her throat when there was a knock on her front door. She ran to the mirror for one last check. Makeup and hair was good. She had decided, after an afternoon of internal debates, on a tight black dress. There wasn’t much to do around here and Grayson was probably going to take her to the bar but still, she loved getting dressed up and Dakota wasn’t about to look bad on her first date with her mate.

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Dakota checked her teeth in the mirror. All good. She blew herself a kiss and ran to the door. She opened it and gasped. Grayson was standing in the entrance in a fitted suit. The gray suit hugged his big shoulders and was barely big enough to fit his massive biceps. He looked good. She hadn’t seen a man in a suit in at least three years and this sexy sight in front of her was making her body stir. “For you,” he said, handing her a large bouquet of flowers. She hadn’t even noticed that he was holding it. He looked that good. She smiled as she took them. The soothing flower scents filled her nose as she hid her blushing cheeks with the petals. The closest flower store was a four hour plane ride away. There wasn’t a big demand for flowers in a logging site full of men. “Where did you get these?” she asked, walking into the kitchen to find a vase.

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“It took some time,” he said with a chuckle. They were wildflowers. He must’ve hiked for hours to find them. “You look spectacular,” he said, his eyes trawling up and down her body. She got shivers with his dark eyes on her. “This old thing?” she asked, waving him away playfully. “That’s no way to speak to the luckiest dress in the world,” he said. “Wow you came to play didn’t you?” Dakota asked with a smirk. “I always do,” he answered. “Don’t forget about the flowers when you tell our grandkids about the date okay?” She smiled as she looked him over in his suit. She pictured being old and wrinkly with a batch of fresh and energetic kids at her feet listening to her every word. How could she describe how handsome he looked

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right now? She couldn’t. That part would be just for her. “So where are you taking me?” she asked, placing the flowers in a glass water pitcher. She had never needed a vase before now. “There’s not a lot of options,” he said with a laugh. “So the bar it is.” She smiled but her stomach dropped on the inside. She was at the bar every night and it was the last place that she wanted to go on her night off. But it wouldn’t be so bad with Grayson. “No bar,” he said. He held out his hand for her. “Remember you said that you had wanted to visit Italy?” She nodded slowly. Where was he going with this? She walked over and placed her hand in his ready to follow him anywhere. “We’re going to Italy.”

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Dakota burst out laughing. Grayson had led her into the woods to a private table of two set up under the stars. It looked perilously romantic. Where did he find a white table cloth? What made her laugh was their waiter. Wyatt was standing as straight as a pencil with one hand behind his back and the other folded in front of him with a white towel draped over his forearm. He had a black suit jacket that was about three sizes too small on over a white t-shirt. He had tied a black ribbon into a makeshift bow tie and he had a

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mustache that curled up on the sides drawn over his lip in black marker. “Buona sera my friends,” Wyatt said in a pathetically bad Italian accent. “Wyatt please tell me that you didn’t use a Sharpie to put on that mustache,” Dakota said. Wyatt’s eyes bulged out as panic flashed over his face. He almost broke character. He glanced at Grayson and then went into his, apparent, prepared speech. “Bellisima, welcome to Naples Italy,” Wyatt said, rushing over and guiding her to the table of two. They were in a clearing in the woods. The night sky was coming out, the final light of the day fading along with any doubt of the epicness of their first date. There were two plates with two wine glasses and shined cutlery on the table. Wyatt gestured to the chair with his open hand. He leaned in close to her as she sat down.

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“Are Sharpies washable?” he whispered. “With steel wool,” she whispered back. He brushed his finger and thumb over the permanent mustache and gulped. Jack stepped out of the darkness strumming a guitar. He had a large sombrero on his head. “An Italian Mexican?” she asked Grayson with a smirk. “It’s all that we could find,” he answered. Jack sang softly in a jumbled, gibberish of Italian sounding words as he played the guitar. Grayson was watching her nervously. He had no need to worry. This was the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for her. “I couldn’t take you to Italy yet so I thought I’d bring Italy to you.” She took his hand over the table. “I love it.”

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Wyatt approached the table, holding two menus. Dakota took one and smiled. It was a piece of cardboard that Grayson had colored into a menu. It was adorable. She was going to keep this for the rest of her life. “Arts and crafts this afternoon?” she asked with a smile. He looked away in embarrassment. “It was a stupid idea.” “No,” she said, squeezing his hand. “This is amazing.” Wyatt, their Italian waiter for the night, cleared his throat. “I’ll be your vaiter for zis evening,” he said in a thick accent that Dakota guessed was supposed to be Italian. “Here in Napoli ve eat pizza and pasta ezery night.” “Sounds delicious,” Dakota said. “Si,” Wyatt said. “Tonight iz pasta made by the famous chef Grayson.” Dakota smiled. “I can’t wait to try it.”

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Wyatt picked the wine bottle up off the table. He presented it to Dakota and then Grayson. “Italian?” she asked in shock. The only wine up here came in boxes and tasted slightly better than grape juice mixed with rubbing alcohol. “Where did you get that?” Grayson grinned. “We’re in Italy remember?” Wyatt poured the wine as Jack finished his song. Dakota clapped and cheered. “Do you know any Radiohead?” Jack frowned. “No speaka inglese.” He started a new song, singing in gibberish again, but it sounded nice. Dakota admired the hot shifter in front of her as he tasted the wine. He smelled it and then held the glass to his lips for a taste. His face was twisted in concentration. She licked her lips as he drank the wine, his Adam’s apple dipping in his powerful neck. He looked up at Wyatt and nodded.

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Dakota thanked him as he filled her glass. He took the menus back, there was only one dish written on it anyways, and left them alone, with Jack playing softly in the distance. “Cheers,” Dakota said, lifting up her wine glass. “Cheers,” he said back. “To the start of a long, long, long life together.” They clinked glasses and Dakota moaned as she took a sip of the delicious wine. She hadn’t had a bottle like this in years. “Do you really believe that?” she asked. He looked shocked. “Don’t you?” She did. But it felt weird to hear it out loud. That they would be together forever. Dakota looked around at all of the effort he put into their date. “I do now.” “I’m sorry. I know it’s corny,” he said, looking embarrassed again. “I just wanted it to be special.”

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She cupped her hand over his. “This is perfect.” He sighed in relief. “What brought you to Laughlin City?” he asked. “A restless bear,” she answered. She had spent a summer traveling around, mostly by foot, sometimes hitchhiking, and ended up in southern Alberta in the beginning of the fall. She had seen an ad for a waitressing job up in Laughlin City and headed north. They chatted until their not-so-Italian waiter interrupted. He placed a plate in front of each of them. “Spaghetti bolognese,” Wyatt said. “Buon appetito.” Dakota and Grayson cheersed again as their waiter left. Jack was giving them some privacy and singing by the trees. “Did you make this?” Dakota asked, swirling the noodles on her fork. “I did,” he said. “It would’ve been better with some fresh herbs though.”

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“I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her knife. “I have to cut it.” He let out a laugh. “Thank God,” he said, picking up his knife and cutting his pasta too. “I could never get that spinning on the spoon trick down.” The pasta and wine was amazing but it paled in comparison to the company. Grayson had a silent, calming presence to him. He smiled easily and made her laugh quite often. He was sweet and sexy at the same time. Wyatt cleared the plates and brought a tiramisu for desert. “My favorite,” she squealed as she dug a spoon into it. Grayson poured out the last drops of wine into Dakota’s glass. He smiled as he watched her eat the desert. It was so good that Dakota felt sad when it was finished. Or was it because their date was finishing?

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Wyatt cleared the plates and thanked them for eating at his Italian restaurant. Grayson stood up and Dakota followed. “Thanks for a wonderful date,” she said. He jerked his head back. “We’re in Italy,” he said. “You want to leave so soon? You haven’t seen Venice yet.” Her heart raced. He had more planned? He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Grayson led Dakota through the woods down to the river. So far the date was going well. He had rushed like a maniac after his

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shift to get everything prepared. Wyatt, Jack and Hunter had been life savers. They had helped him set up everything. And it only cost a month of making their lunches for them. Hunter had really come through when he found the bottle of Italian wine. Marcus, a foreman on the site, had been stashing it for a special occasion. He let Grayson have it for only half of his paycheck. But it had been worth it. The rosy glow on Dakota’s smiling cheeks was worth every penny. The canoe was parked on the riverbank up ahead. Hunter was sleeping inside it. Damn him. He’s not getting the crusts cut off his sandwiches. Grayson kicked the side of the canoe and Hunter sprang up in a panic. “Buona sera,” he said, trying to remember his lines. “Welcome to Venice Italy. I takea you ona gondola ride.”

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Dakota squeezed Grayson’s arm as she looked around at the dark forest and smooth flowing river. “Just like in the postcards,” she said with a smile. “It takes a little imagination,” Grayson said, “but it’s the best I could do.” “It’s perfect,” she said. She stepped on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. He stood there, his head spinning, as Hunter helped her into the canoe. He got in behind her and wrapped her in a big blanket that he had stored under the seat. Hunter stood in the front of the canoe and pushed off the bank with a long stick. Dakota moaned in content as she snuggled up to Grayson. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the coconut scent of her hair as the easy current took them down the river. Hunter hummed as he guided the canoe around the curves with the long pole.

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“This is better than Italy,” she whispered. “Thank you.” “One day I’ll bring you to the real place.” “Okay,” she said. “But I’ll be telling our grandkids about this one. It’s much more special.” Grayson hugged her and kissed the top of her head. This was going better than he had hoped. But of course it was. They were mates and were meant to be together. They drifted down the river, admiring the stars above and just enjoying the moment when the menacing sound of a motorboat came ripping up the river ahead. A spotlight was blinding them. Hunter squeezed the branch in his hands as the boat got closer. It was heading straight for them. Hunter tried to maneuver out of the way but he couldn’t move fast enough. The boat clipped the side of the canoe, flipping it over.

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The three of them tumbled into the icy cold river. The boat circled back as they popped out of the water, the date ruined. The men on the boat cut the light and lowered the engine to an idle. Brad was driving with the two goon shifters sitting in the back. He looked down at them treading in the cold water and smirked. “Sorry about that,” Brad said with a grin. “I didn’t mean to ruin your date like that.” Grayson glared at him as Hunter struggled to flip over the canoe, not an easy task in the deep water. There was a pounding in Grayson’s ears. He wanted blood. “Watch yourself,” Brad warned, staring at Grayson. “There’s much bigger fish than you out here.”

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The engine roared back to life and they sped off leaving Grayson’s epic first date in shambles.

seven Dakota woke up to a light tapping on her door. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock. The whole town was on site at the logging company. Must be Luke. She rolled her eyes and slapped the mattress. Did I not clean something to his satisfaction again? She got up, threw her robe over her pajamas and answered the door. Leo was standing in the doorway with his body slumped and his eyes low. He was fidgeting with an envelope in his hands. “Good morning Leo,” she said, taking a deep breath. Leo never came to her place. Ever. And by the look of him this wasn’t going to be a fun, social call. “I tried to talk to him,” he mumbled, still not meeting her eyes. “I tried to convince him. We haven’t been the best of

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friends but I’ve known him for over forty years. There was nothing I could do.” “Come in,” she said, touching his arm and guiding him in. Leo nodded and walked in. He was a small lion shifter who was way past his prime. The hair on his arms were long and thin. They were a very, light gray that matched the long hair on his head. He always wore the same black, top hat and black trench coat and the tips of his black mustache were always curled up with wax. Dakota had always seen Leo as a powerful figure, an old timer who managed the fights, hyping the patrons up with his deep voice. But seeing him shuffle into her home with his crooked fingers trembling, he was really showing his age. Whatever that was. “What are you talking about Leo?” Dakota asked. They sat down at her little kitchen table.

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He was looking around. “It’s so nice in here,” he said. “I can’t believe this is the same place.” Dakota rested her hand on his forearm and leaned in. “You tried to convince who?” Leo took a deep breath. “Walter wants me to fire you.” Dakota jerked her head back. “Shit.” Walter was the head of the logging company but he basically ran the town. His word was the law. She had expected some blow back from her relationship with Grayson but she wasn’t expecting this. “I tried to reason with him,” Leo explained. “But he wouldn’t listen. You know how stubborn rhino shifters are right? He wants you gone.” She started to chew on her thumbnail. She had nowhere to go. “I told him no,” Leo said. “But he said that he would prevent all of his employees

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from coming to the bar. And that’s all of my customers.” Dakota was speechless. She liked her life up here. And it had only gotten better since Grayson got in town. “When does he want me gone by?” “There’s a plane leaving the town in two days,” he said. “Walt wants you on it.” She exhaled slowly. Two days? Only two more nights with Grayson. Will he come with me? “Do you have family that you can go to?” Leo asked. “Yes,” Dakota lied. “I have a big family. They’ll be thrilled to have me home again.” The truth was she hadn’t spoken to her Dad in over a decade, her mother had died six years ago and her brother was somewhere in Brazil. He had left to travel after their mother passed and never came back. He had bonded to a girl down there and Dakota hadn’t seen him since.

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Leo swallowed and slid a thick envelope across the table. “I have some money that I can give you.” “No,” Dakota said, shaking her head. She placed her hand on his and pushed the envelope back to him. “You’ve done so much for me Leo. Please keep it.” Leo’s chin shook. He composed himself and stood up, leaving the envelope on the table. I’ll put it in his office before I leave. Leo rubbed his eye. Dakota felt a pang in her heart. She never realized that she meant so much to the old shifter. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. “You’ve been a great boss Leo,” she said. “And an even better friend.” “I just wish I-” “It’s okay Leo,” she said interrupting. Walter Cash ran this town and there was nothing that they could do about it. “I’ll be fine. I’ll head somewhere warm for the

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winter. Maybe a beach in the Caribbean. While you’re freezing your nuts off I’ll be sipping Pina Coladas with my toes in the hot sand.” “Thanks Dakota,” he said, as she opened the door. “Please come and visit.” “I will Leo,” she said, giving him one last hug before closing the door. She stumbled across the room and collapsed on the couch like she was drunk. She picked up a pillow and hugged it. Will he come with me?

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Grayson knocked on Dakota’s door when he didn’t see her at work. He had asked Luke where she was and he just shook his head. “Better go up and see her,” was all that he had said. She opened the door and his face dropped. There were boxes in her loft. Lots of boxes. Her face matched how he felt. “You’re leaving?” he asked. Her chin trembled and it nearly broke Grayson’s heart to see his mate cry. “Mr. Cash is forcing me to go.” Grayson’s stomach hardened. She was being forced out because of him. He had to fix it. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. She shook her head as the tears started coming. Grayson stepped in and hugged her. Her short breaths became long sobs in his arms.

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“I’ll talk to him,” he said again. “If I can’t get your job back than I’ll quit. I’m not letting you leave without me.” Her sobs stopped at his words. Her muscles relaxed against his body. Grayson would leave if he had too. He would choose Dakota over everything. But there was an uneasiness in his tight chest. Somehow he felt like Walter Cash had something planned for that too.

eight Grayson walked up to the boss’ trailer as soon as he got to work the next morning. He took a deep breath trying to calm his angry bear. His grizzly wasn’t too happy at someone trying to separate him from his mate. “Come in,” the deep voice commanded, echoing inside the trailer. Grayson hadn’t even knocked. Grayson shook out his hands and walked in the trailer. The enormous rhino shifter was sitting behind the desk with a smirk wrapped around the short cigar clenched in his teeth. His jacket was off, the suspenders holding up his pants were digging into his round shoulders. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth, ashing it on the ground, and grinned.

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“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice raspy and deep. Grayson clenched and unclenched his hands trying to stay calm. He was going to try to settle this with his words rather than his fists. “Dakota is my girl,” Grayson said. “And no one plays games with my girl.” Grayson wanted to see blood. He wanted to unleash his bear and dominate this dead man. “This town is mine,” Walter responded. “And no one lays a finger on my son.” So that’s what this was about. “You embarrassed him in front of everyone and now I’m going to embarrass you.” Grayson took a deep breath. “So fire me. Leave Dakota out of it.” He sneered as he shook his thick head. “Oh no,” he said chuckling. “That would be too easy. You’re my new play thing and I

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want to watch you suffer. You know there’s not much to do up here. I have to make my own entertainment.” Grayson stepped up to the desk and stuck his middle finger in his boss’ face. “Fuck you. I quit.” He turned, storming off towards the door when Walter cleared his throat. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers,” he said. Grayson stopped and turned. “For what? Giving you the finger?” The rhino shifter held up a stack of papers. “You signed a contract for one year. I’ll sue you for everything you have.” Grayson laughed at the threat. “Go ahead. I have nothing.” He shook his head in mock sympathy. “Then I’ll have to go after your mom.” Grayson’s face dropped. He wouldn’t. Of course he would. “Maggy Stevenson,” he said, reading the paper. “Eight months from retirement. Such

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a shame. The legal bills will keep her working as a nurse until she dies. Imagine the poor woman,” he said, shaking his head. “She’ll be taking care of patients in better shape than her.” Grayson’s ears were pounding as adrenaline rushed through his body. His mom had done so much for him. He couldn’t let this happen. “And then there’s your friends,” Walter continued. “Wyatt, Hunter and Jack. I’ll have to fire them. Either that or feed them to the wood chipper. Think their healing can heal from that?” Grayson’s muscles and veins strained against his skin. He wanted to make this arrogant shifter in front of him bleed. “No. You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his huge body rippling as he laughed a throaty laugh. “We’re going to have some fun you and me.”

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Grayson glanced at the gold belt hanging on the wall over Walter’s head. It was written Ultimate Shifting Champion on it in gold, block letters. “I’ll fight you for it,” Grayson said. “Ha!” the rhino shifter laughed. He cracked his sledgehammer sized knuckles. “Be careful what you wish for boy. You just might get it.” “If I win she gets to keep her job and stay,” Grayson said. “If I lose she’ll leave and I’ll stay. I’ll work in a dress if you want. You can torture me everyday.” He was staring at Grayson with a light in his dark eyes. He pointed to the belt behind his head. “You see that boy? One hundred and eighty nine fights. And I finished every single one of them. No one even came close. Let alone a pathetic teddy bear.” “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Grayson said. “And this time you

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won’t have to stick me in the back like a coward.” Walter pulled his lips back, baring his teeth. “In two days,” he grunted. “Saturday night Championship fight like we used to do back in the day. The plane will be ready and waiting outside. If you lose she goes on it and you stay with me.” “And if you lose we both stay.” Walter smiled as he pulled the stubby cigar out of his teeth and ground it into the ashtray. “Deal.”

nine “No,” Dakota said, biting her nails. “He almost killed you.” “Because I wasn’t ready,” Grayson said defensively. “I can take him.” “How do you think it would be for me to see you die?” “Probably better than it would be for me,” he said, flashing a cocky smile. Dakota got up from her couch and walked to the kitchen. She stared out the window at the dry fall leaves about to part from the trees. “I’m doing this,” Grayson said, from her couch. “I’ll be fine.” Why did everything have to be so complicated? All Dakota wanted was a simple life with a mate whom she loved. She had finally

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found it and it lasted about twenty four hours. “He’s the best fighter that Laughlin City has ever seen,” she said. Leo had told her all of the stories. Many of the shifters that they had dragged out of the cage after facing Walter over the years never woke up again. “Rhino skin is pretty much bullet proof,” she said. “I’m not bringing a gun,” Grayson said with a smile. “A rhino horn can slice through cement.” “Well then I won’t get hit with it.” His sexy smile was infuriating. “It’s already set,” he said. “It’s happening.” She took a deep breath, trying to soothe her sensitive stomach. “Leo always closes the bar early on Thursdays,” she said, picking up the phone. If Grayson was insisting on fighting the least

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she could do was make sure that he was as ready as possible. “Who are you calling?” he asked. “Your training partners.”

Dakota hit the fluorescent lights on over the metal, fighting cage. It was midnight and the bar was closed. The bottles of booze stood silently on the shelves like tiny glass guards. Dakota swallowed hard as Grayson slipped off his shirt. He began shadow boxing around the cage, grunting and flexing as he fought imaginary demons. She watched

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his body twist and his arms flex with each punch. He was spectacular. “Hey rhinocerass kicker,” Wyatt said as he burst through the front door. Jack and Hunter came in behind him. “My punching bags are here,” Grayson said, smiling. “As long as we’re not your bear’s chew toy,” Jack said. “Go easy on us killer.” Dakota gave them each a hug. “Thanks for coming guys.” “Anything for you Dakota,” Hunter said. “And we have to initiate this guy into our little Crew anyways.” The three of them stripped down to their shorts and stepped into the cage. They shook out their arms and stretched their heads from side to side. So many hard muscles and me without my camera.

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Grayson stood on the opposite side of the cage with his hands up in a fighting position. “Who’s first?” “Oh no,” Wyatt said. “Walter Cash is not going to play fair and neither are we.” Jack was nodding. “You’re going to fight all three of us.” “Pass me that knife,” Hunter said to Dakota. She picked up the butter knife off the table and handed it to him through the links in the cage. He held it on his forehead, like a ghetto rhino horn. He bent over and ran at Grayson as they all laughed. Grayson pivoted to the side and Hunter ran by him. Hunter stood up, still holding the knife to his forehead. “Ooohhh this guy is good.” “Alright enough fucking around,” Dakota said, taking the knife back. She slammed it onto the bell. “Fight!”

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“Thanks guys,” Grayson said, waving to his new friends as they walked back to their mobile homes. I hope I wasn’t too hard on them. It was always hard to hold back the force of his punches once he got going. Jack was clutching his ribs as he limped away into the night. They had fought for over two hours, first in their human forms and then as bears. Grayson felt as ready for the fight as he would ever be. Dakota was still inside the bar closing up. She had set that up for him. She was definitely worth fighting for.

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“Thank you,” Grayson said, walking back in and closing the door behind him. “I needed that.” “You looked good.” She was standing in the cage, mopping up the blood. “There’s a shower in the employee room,” she said. Grayson went in the back and sat on the wooden bench. There were a few lockers and a shower in the back. He groaned as he pulled off his shirt. A bit of dangerous doubt crept into his mind as he saw the enormous pink scar on his abdomen. He cringed at the feeling of having that thick horn through his body. He had been fortunate the last time, his shifter healing was just barely able to bring him back from the brink of death. On Saturday he might not be so lucky. Dakota walked in the room and stood behind him. She ran her fingers up his back and began massaging his tight shoulders. He groaned as her firm hands rubbed out any

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stress, any worries. His head drooped forward as her hands worked his muscles. Her fingers slid down his chest, massaging his pecs. Grayson caressed the back of her hand, held her wrist and kissed her arm. He pulled her down and looked back over his shoulder, kissing her on the lips. He plunged his tongue into her hot mouth. Her hand kept traveling down and his cock hardened as her fingers brushed over it. “A fighter is not supposed to have sex in the week before their fight,” she said on his lips. “Then it looks like I’m going to lose,” he said. He kissed her deeply, pulling her over his shoulder and cradling her in his arms. Their tongues tangled together as he brushed his hand up the inside of her thighs, feeling the roughness of her jeans but imagining the softness underneath. She moaned into his mouth as he found the apex of her legs, pushing the seam of her

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jeans into her clit. Fuck she’s hot. He wanted her clothes off. He needed to see her luscious body again. To taste every inch of her. His bear purred as she climbed off his legs and stood in front of him. She stripped slowly, starting with her shirt. Her tits were huge in her bra. Grayson licked his lips as she unclasped her bra and dropped it to the ground. He pulled out his cock and stroked it as he watched her unbuttoned her pants. Her eyes were fixated on his cock. She hooked her fingers into her panties and pulled them down with her jeans. She stepped out of them, opening her legs just enough to give Grayson a peek of what was between them. He groaned as she dropped to his knees. He wasn’t about to let her suck him off before he had a shower no matter how much he wanted to feel those soft lips around his shaft.

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Grayson stepped around her, sunk to his knees and gently pushed her down over the bench until her ass was sticking up in the air. He spread her legs further apart and positioned himself between them. Her pussy was spread open in front of him, her pink asshole in full view. Grayson gripped his cock with one hand and her ass with the other as he pressed forward. Her long blond hair was draped over her back, the white cowboy hat still on her head. Grayson slowly rubbed the tip of his cock up her moist, pink lips, drawing a moan from her and making her drop her head forward. He licked his lips as he guided the tip of his dick into her hole. She was so soft, so silky, so smooth. Her tight lips wrapped around his shaft as he slowly pressed forward. Her pussy swallowed his cock, hugging and squeezing every inch as it glided in her.

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Dakota moaned as their thighs connected and he was balls deep in her. He grabbed her ass with both hands as he slowly slid back out. His thumb brushed against her starfish and her body shook in a shiver. She was so tight. So hot. He knew he wasn’t going to last long. But fuck it. He could go two rounds with her. He picked up the pace, fucking her harder with every pump. She gripped the bench, moaning and gasping with every hard thrust. Her body was so full and curvy. He couldn’t contain it any longer. He pulled his cock out of her and stroked it, using her slick pussy juices as lubrication. He grunted as he came on her, pumping long streams of come on her back. She looked over her shoulder and moaned as she watched him handle himself. “I guess we’re showering together,” she said with a grin.

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He stood up on trembling legs and guided her to the shower stall. She turned the water on scalding hot and they went in together, kissing as the stream of water washed away his seed from her back. Grayson squeezed some shower gel into his palm and rubbed his hands together, getting them nice and soapy. He rubbed the suds over Dakota’s breasts as he kissed her. “I think they’re clean champ,” she said after a few minutes of him rubbing her breasts. “When you shower with me,” he said, “you’ll have some really clean breasts.” He squeezed some more shower gel into his hand, ready to touch the rest of her. He moved his hands over shoulders, working his way down her stomach and over her pussy. She moaned and bit her lip as he slid a finger inside her. She still felt tight. Grayson’s cock was hardening again. He was already ready for a second go.

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Her hand snuck down and she stroked him, getting him rock hard under her touch. He bent down and grabbed her legs behind her knees and hoisted her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he spread her legs apart and leaned her onto the tiled wall. His dick was pointing straight up. He guided her open pussy onto his tip and fucked her, half driving into her with his hips and half slamming her body onto him with his arms. She screamed his name as the hot water burned his back in a good way. It didn’t take long. It took less than a dozen thrusts before she was clamping down on his neck and screaming that she was coming. Her pussy tightened around his cock as she released and that was enough to make him follow her. He came deep inside her as she was gasping for air and kissing his neck wildly.

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All of his energy was leaving with his fading orgasm. He lowered her back onto her feet. She clutched onto his arm, her shaking legs barely able to keep her up. They both sat down on the floor, letting the water wash over them. The tile was cold against Grayson’s back but it felt nice. “We should train everyday,” he said with a smile. His breath was so heavy. She nodded and lowered her head on his shoulder. “If you fight as well as you fuck you’ll have no problems on Saturday.” Grayson leaned his head back against the tile, hoping that was the case.

ten “Hey it’s the fish shifter,” Brad said, laughing as he walked up to the bus stop at the end of the day. Grayson was waiting in line with Wyatt. “Sorry about cock blocking your date the other night. I hope the river wasn’t too cold.” Grayson just stared back. He was going to shut that family up for good. “I hear that you’re going to fight my father,” Brad said, trying to hold in a laugh. “I guess you didn’t have enough fun the first time.” Grayson squeezed his hands into fists trying to release some energy. His inner bear was growling inside, wanting to break free and maul this chump.

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“This time I won’t be standing with my back to him,” Grayson said through gritted teeth. “That’s right,” Brad said with a big smile. “You can watch as he spears his horn through your gut, killing you properly this time.” “Don’t bet all your money on Daddy,” Grayson warned. “You may wind up a broke man.” “You’re going to be the only broke man at the end of the fight.” Brad smirked at him and turned away, chuckling to himself as he walked. Wyatt gave the middle finger to Brad’s back. “I hate that guy,” Wyatt said in frustration. “How did it feel to punch him in the face?” Grayson exhaled as he thought about it. “Pretty damn good.”

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A tiger shifter walked by. “Good luck tomorrow,” he whispered as he passed. That had been happening all day. It seemed that Grayson wasn’t the only one that wanted the Cash family shut up for good. Grayson looked around. A lion shifter made a fist and nodded subtly at him. He took a deep breath. Win or lose, he was going to give these guys a show.

eleven “Holy shit!” Grayson said when he walked into the bar. It was packed. No. Packed was an understatement. It was overflowing with shifters. “Everyone in Laughlin City showed up,” Wyatt said. “Even the ox shifters are here,” Jack said, pointing to six huge men, squeezed shoulder to shoulder around a table. The bar quieted one table at a time as the shifters realized who was there. Dakota came squirming through the crowd, looking fine in her tight jeans, low cut red shirt and white cowboy hat. “I saved you guys a table up front,” she said, bringing them through the bar. Every shifter that Grayson met eyes with gave him a subtle nod, a look of respect,

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a hidden thumbs up. It appeared that all of Walter Cash’s employees liked him as little as he did. Dakota led them to a ringside table. There wasn’t a better view than here. Well besides the view that Grayson would have: inside the cage. Walter stood up from his usual table. His arms were the size of barrels, his chest the size of a small car and his chin the size of a cinder block. Man it was going to feel good pounding his fist into it. “Leo,” Walter hollered. “Let’s get started. I’m not the type of shifter that likes to wait around.” Leo nodded his black, top hat and flicked on the lights over the cage. Luke shut off the music as Leo jumped into the cage with the microphone. “Are you ready?” Dakota asked him, looking nervous.

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Grayson shrugged. “Please have a cold beer waiting for me after I kick this guy’s ass.” “I will.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck and please be careful.” Wyatt, Jack and Hunter wished him luck as they took turns slapping his back. “Tonight we have a special treat for you shit heads,” Leo yelled into the mic, hyping the crowd up. “Out of retirement…the best fighter that Bar Knuckle has ever seen. The undefeated, unconquered, unbeaten Ultimate Shifting Champion for twenty six years straight; The Deathblow Rhino.” Walter strutted into the cage to the sound of everyone, except Grayson’s table, cheering. He had brown dress pants on that went up over his belly button and were held up by black suspenders over his white undershirt. Walter raised his thick fists in the air and Brad jumped up and cheered.

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“And the opponent,” Leo continued. “With a one and O record in the cage, about to be one and one; The Bare Knuckle Bear.” The bar was silent except for the clapping and cheering of Grayson’s three friends and his girl. The crowd was afraid to show their support. He walked to the cage, slid off his shirt and shoes and stepped into the cage, wearing only his jeans. The canvas was hard under his feet. Dakota had told him that it was just slabs of thin plywood over a big concrete block. It used to be made of wood but the shifters kept slamming each other through it so Leo paved it with cement when he got tired of repairing the boards. The heat of the lights warmed Grayson’s bare shoulders as he backed into his corner, staring down the huge opponent across from him. Walter had anvil sized shoulders and a thick head to match. Gray stubble speckled his wide, buttoned chin. His

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wild black and gray eyebrows snaked over his hard eyes, just barely out of each other’s reach. Walter cracked his large knuckles. He had several large, gold rings on his fat fingers. That was illegal, no weapons in the first round, but nobody was going to tell him that. Just don’t get hit with them and you’ll be fine. But that was easier said than done. “This is a three round fight,” Leo said, standing between them. “First round, human form.” He looked towards the bar. “Luke three minutes on the stopwatch.” “Make it five minutes,” the rhino grumbled in his deep, throaty voice. “I want to take my time with this guy.” Leo looked at Grayson nervously and then turned back towards the bar. “Five minutes a round, Luke.” “Good luck,” Leo whispered to Grayson as he walked behind him out the door of the cage.

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The bar was silent as the two fighters stared each other down, waiting for the bell. “Kick his ass Daddy,” Brad yelled. “Shut up Brad,” Walter grunted back. Brad sat back down at the table with his head down. Leo reached up and rang the bell. Walter lunged forward, catching Grayson by surprise. He wasn’t expecting him to move that fast. A meaty fist flew at his face. Grayson moved his chin at the last split second missing his chin but the knuckles still connected with his cheek. He grunted as he stumbled backwards into the cage. White spots were filling his vision as the rhino shifter rushed forward again. Grayson got his hands up just in time. Walter grunted as he smashed his fist into Grayson’s forearm, nearly shattering the bone.

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More fists came crashing down on him like sledgehammers. He was caught against the fence and Walter was teeing off on him. “Move,” Dakota yelled. “Get out of there.” Grayson pushed off the cage and sprung out, ducking under an incoming roundhouse. He popped out in the middle of the cage and raised his fists. The cage was blurry. He had taken a few shots. He shook his head, clearing his vision and waited for the next onslaught. The rhino rushed forward, straight on. Grayson pivoted to the side and tripped him, letting his opponent’s massive weight bring him down. Walter flew off his feet and crashed into the concrete canvas. Grayson sprinted forward, letting his fists fly. Every punch that he landed on Walter’s face felt like he was punching a brick wall.

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“Like that,” Dakota yelled, giving him guidance. She had seen enough of these fights to know what she was talking about. She was worth listening to that was for sure. “Move your feet.” He was too late. Walter snatched his ankle and yanked him off his feet. Grayson hit the ground and Walter jumped on him, smothering him with his enormous weight. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. And then the fists came. As a rhino shifter Walter could overpower anyone but what made it worse was that Walter also knew how to fight. Grayson felt his bones crack and his skin split open as Walter showed the bar why he was the Ultimate Shifting Champion.

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Dakota prayed for the bell to ring. Walter was on top of her mate killing him. She glanced over at Luke and mouthed a “please.” He nodded subtly. “Time,” he yelled. Leo immediately hit the bell. Walter took two more free punches and then climbed off Grayson leaving his body a collapsed mess of broken bones and blood. Dakota ran to the cage and begged Grayson to get up. “Come on Grayson,” she said. “Come to my voice.” He raised his head like he was drunk. There was a cut on his forehead that was pouring blood into his swollen shut eyes. His

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soft lips that she had been kissing earlier were split and bloody. It broke her heart to see him like that. And it was all because of her. “Come over here,” she said to him. He managed to sit up. He was breathing so heavily. Dakota turned to Leo. “Open the cage,” she ordered. “Get him out.” Leo looked at her sadly. Once the lock was closed the fight couldn’t be stopped. Grayson had to quit on his own. Grayson shook his head. His shifter healing was kicking in and the cut on his forehead was closing. His eyes were beginning to open as well. Dakota glanced at Luke. The minute between rounds was almost up. She knew that he would let the timer go an extra few seconds to give Grayson a bit more time to heal. But it still wouldn’t be enough.

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Grayson took a deep breath and stood up, wobbling to the cage on shaky legs. “Give up,” she begged. “Tell them you quit.” He laughed and then clutched his ribs and winced at the pain that it caused. “I’m not giving you up.” “You’re no good to me dead either,” she said. “Please just give up. We can still see each other a few times a year. We can make it work.” Grayson unbuckled his jeans and slid them off. Walter was standing in the opposite corner in polka dot boxer shorts. The second round was in their animal form. Dakota was hoping that Grayson would’ve beat him with his fists. It was his best chance to win. Because a bear against a rhino was never a good match up for her kind. “I’ll be fine,” he said, blowing her a kiss. “I already feel better.”

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Leo glanced at her with worried eyes before he flicked the microphone on. “Round two,” he hollered into the mic. “Animal forms. Fighters phase now.” Grayson’s back jerked and convulsed. His body swelled up as his muscles blew up like balloons. Long, brown hairs sprouted out of his skin as he fell on all fours. Dakota glanced at Walter. He was grimacing in pain as a long, sharp horn grew out of his forehead. His body was growing to four times its normal size. She turned back to Grayson just in time to see a grizzly bear explode from his body. Her inner bear grumbled. This was the first time that she had seen him in his bear form and he was as spectacular as he was in his human form. The bear stood up on its hind legs and roared at the thick, stocky rhino across the cage from him.

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Dakota bit her nails. Bears were powerful and tough as nails but they weren’t very fast or agile. And Grayson needed to be fast to be able to dodge that huge spear sticking out of his opponent’s head. Dakota backed away from the cage and watched with an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach as Leo hit the bell. Why did you let him do this? What were you thinking? It was too late now. The rhino was charging forward.

twelve Dakota bit her nails as she watched the grizzly bear in the cage. The bright lights from above were sending shimmering waves of light over his fur as he moved. It was in stark contrast to the plain, almost matte finish, of the rhino charging at him. The crowd erupted in cheers. Most of them had heard the old stories of Walter Cash in his glory but were too young to had seen it live. It wasn’t many shifters that had the opportunity to see a rhino shifter fight and the crowd was almost giddy with anticipation. The ground shook as the rhino charged. Dakota could feel the vibrations in her feet. The beer bottles were rattling on the tables. She held her breath. She was terrified for her mate. The last time those two met

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Grayson had almost ended up as a stain on her mattress. Grayson’s grizzly stood on his hind legs and roared at the charging rhino. Walter kept his head down low, which kept his menacing horn pointed up. At least it was his only weapon. A bear had four paws full of claws and a mouth that could bring the fiercest predator to its knees. A rhino only had its horn, powerful though it was. If Grayson could avoid it he would be okay. But that was a big if. The way that Walter was charging forward it didn’t seem like he missed a lot. Walter swung his head up, aiming the horn at the bear’s exposed belly. Dakota closed her eyes and gasped. When she opened them a second later the two animals were circling each other, both unharmed. Grayson’s bear swiped his paw and it scraped against the top of the rhino’s back

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leg. It left four dripping red lines where his claws connected. Yes. Dakota took a breath. First blood went to her mate. The rhino lowered his head and huffed out an angry puff of air. He lunged forward and swung his horn up, catching Grayson’s hind leg. The horn sunk deep into the leg, slicing through tendon and muscle. The bear roared in anger and pain. He dropped his front paws down, landing on the rhino’s back. Grayson flashed his long, white fangs as he opened his mouth and tried to bite down on the back of the rhino’s neck. The rhino’s skin was too tough and he couldn’t sink his teeth into it. It was like trying to bite into a bullet proof tank. Walter thrashed his head from side to side, tearing open the inside of Grayson’s leg. The bear was roaring in pain. Blood was pooling around his foot.

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The horn slipped free and the rhino backed away, his horn dripping with dark blood. Dakota bit her nails, feeling like she was going to throw up. Grayson’s bear was injured. He kept trying to stand up on his back leg but it kept collapsing under him, unable to hold up his tremendous weight. It wouldn’t be long before the rhino charged again. Her inner bear kept trying to rush forward. She was desperate to be released to save her mate. Dakota held her back. There was nothing that her bear could do to help. Grayson’s bear slipped in a puddle of his own blood and his hind legs gave out under him. The rhino, sensing weakness, attacked, rushing forward with his head low and horn pointing up. Walter released an uppercut with his horn as he arrived at the bear. Grayson tried to claw the rhino’s face but the rhino was

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quicker. The horn pierced the bear’s right paw. Dakota winced as the red horn poked out the back of her mate’s paw. The bear cried out with such a high pitched whine that it almost broke Dakota’s heart. His left paw shot out and connected with the rhino’s face. He scratched and swatted over and over until the right side of the rhino’s face was all cut up and dripping with blood. Dakota glanced at her hands. Her fingertips were burning as her bear tried to phase. She took a deep breath trying to keep her in control. It was painful to watch her mate go through this on his own. Dakota glanced over at Brad. He was standing up and cheering. He was loving this. The two animals broke apart and backed away from each other. The bear was holding his wounded paw close to his chest.

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The rhino’s face was covered in blood, half from Grayson’s paw and half from the claw wounds on his face. His right eye was shut. The two shifters circled each other in the ring. They were both bleeding, which was creating red concentric circles on the canvas. Dakota glanced at Luke. He nodded subtly. She knew what he was saying: if Grayson got in trouble he’d stop the round early. But it couldn’t be too early. People were scared to death of the honey badger Luke, but if the round was noticeably shorter even his tough as shit reputation wouldn’t save him from the outrage of the crowd. Grayson went on the offensive, lunging forward from the rhino’s blind side. He dodged the horn and slammed his shoulder into the rhino’s ribs. The giant animal toppled over and landed on his side with an attacking grizzly bear on top of him. Walter flipped onto his back, helpless as Grayson positioned himself over his belly.

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He chomped down on the inside of the rhino’s neck, sinking his teeth into the loose flesh of his throat. Dakota cheered as the rest of the bar gasped. “Slide out,” Brad yelled at his father, who was trapped under the large apex predator. The rhino wasn’t moving. Grayson had him pinned. Blood was oozing out of his throat and Walter’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. He’s killing him. Brad jumped up, his chair crashing to the ground, and sprinted over to where Leo was sitting beside the bell. He grabbed the back of Leo’s neck and whispered something in his ear. Leo nodded, picked up a knife and hit the bell. “Round over,” he yelled as Brad strutted back to his table.

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“That wasn’t five minutes,” Dakota screamed in outrage even though she was willing to cheat in the same way. “Phase back or you’ll be disqualified,” Leo hollered. The bear released his grip on the rhino’s neck and stumbled back to his corner. The rhino took longer to get up. Dakota ran to the cage as they both phased back into their human forms. Grayson was sliding on his jeans with his left hand. His right hand was curled up into a ball against his stomach. “Are you okay?” she asked. He winked at her. “All part of the plan. I’m just trying to lure him into a false sense of confidence and then I’ll hit him.” “Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “How is your hand?” He opened his fingers and the hole in his palm was closing. He flexed his fingers in and out and shook out his hand.

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“It’s a bit stiff but it will work.” Leo walked up to the cage holding two wooden baseball bats. “Round three,” he yelled. “Human form with clubs.” Dakota backed away from the cage with her hands trembling. This was the round that she could never watch. She always went outside for some fresh air or went into the employee room for a snack. It was way too barbaric for her. This was the round that most shifters got dragged out of the cage. And some of those shifters never got back up.

thirteen Grayson gripped the baseball bat in his left hand. His right hand was still stiff and burning like crazy. His enhanced shifter healing worked fast but it still took time to reconnect all of the torn tendons and muscles under his skin. Walter was glaring at him on the other side of the cage. His throat had a nice, new pink scar courtesy of Grayson’s grizzly. This was harder than he thought it would be. The old man was tough. And faster than he expected. Grayson thought that he would have a speed advantage but that wasn’t the case. At all. Walter was surprisingly fast and his fighting instincts were on point. He was a natural fighter. But so am I.

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The bell rang and Walter snorted out a breath as he stumbled forward dragging the bat behind him on the concrete. The wooden floor boards were torn up and broken from the weight of the two animals. The cement base was showing in patches. Time to knock this fucker out. Grayson rushed forward, ignoring the pain in his wounded leg. He raised the bat and swung it down at the shifter trying to separate him from his mate. But Walter was faster than he looked. The rhino shifter dodged out of the way of the incoming bat and pivoted. He used his weight to swing the bat and slam it into Grayson’s stomach. Grayson’s breath exploded out of him with a grunt as he fell backwards onto his ass. His head was spinning from the blow and he looked up in confusion as Walter swung the bat again.

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Grayson jerked his head back and he felt the wind graze his chin as the bat flew past him, missing by less than an inch. Walter was off balance with the follow through of the swing. Grayson took advantage and hit him in the leg with his bat. The old man fell to one knee as his leg gave out under him. Grayson punched him in the face with a left jab, connecting directly on his thick chin. Man that felt good. He tossed his bat behind him and got to his feet, clenching his hands into fists. This was personal. He was going to make him pay. Grayson dodged a lazy swing of Walter’s bat and then came crashing down on the rhino shifter with well timed and perfectly placed punches. He let go in a fury of knuckles, teeing off on his opponent’s face and body.

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Dakota cheered from somewhere behind him. It drove Grayson on, adding more power to his punches and more speed to his onslaught. Grayson was a fighter. This was his art. His fists were his paintbrushes and Walter’s face was his masterpiece. Walter was covering his face up with his arms and trying to get up on wobbly legs. “Wait,” he whispered so low that only Grayson could hear him. “I tap out.” Grayson lowered his fists. He had won. He had made the best fighter that Laughlin City had ever seen tap out. He glanced over his shoulder at Dakota and smiled. They were going to be together. She had a look of horror on her face and she was pointing to something behind him. Grayson turned back just in time for Walter’s swinging baseball bat to crack against his jaw. His vision turned black as his body flew backwards, limp as a wet

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noodle. The back of his head slammed into the concrete canvas. His mouth was wide open, his head spinning. A little bit of his vision returned in blurred patches and hazy lights. He could hear his mate screaming but he couldn’t make out the words over the thumping in his ears. The bright light over his head turned black, as a massive figure stepped over him. “Get up, get up,” Dakota screamed, her voice making it through the pounding in his head. He tried to but Walter stomped his big foot onto Grayson’s chest, pinning him to the ground. His vision started to clear. Walter was smirking manically as he raised the baseball bat over his head to finish the job. “On your right,” Dakota yelled. Grayson’s right arm shot out. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the baseball bat.

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He yanked it in front of him as Walter brought his weapon down. Grayson held the bat across him with two hands, protecting his body. The two bats collided, cracking Grayson’s bat and sending rough vibrations through his hands. The impact cracked the bat but he had blocked the blow. Grayson rolled to the side and got to his feet. No more fucking around. He had to beat this guy for Dakota. It was all for Dakota. He dropped the broken bat and stalked forward with a new resolve. His face was fierce and tight. His fists felt like they could punch through cement. Walter swung the bat at Grayson as he stepped back. The bear shifter dodged it easily and pressed forward. Walter swung his bat again. Grayson’s hand shot out like a snake’s strike and

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caught the bat. He yanked it out of his opponent’s hands and tossed it behind him. No more weapons. They were going to settle this with fists. Walter struck out with a right hook, like a wounded and cornered animal. Grayson stepped in, avoiding the punch, and cracked him in the jaw with a left hook. He followed it up with an overhand right, which sent Walter stumbling backwards. This time Grayson didn’t let up. He pressed forward landing punch after punch on his boss. Every punch sounded like the crack of an ax slamming into a tree. Every punch felt like a car crash. Dakota cheered as the rhino collapsed to the ground. He fell backwards with a thud. His eyes went hazy as his hands dropped to his sides. The bat was lying on the broken floorboards within reach of Grayson. He could pick up the weapon and end the threat to

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himself and his mate for good. One more hit to the head would finish him off and kill the old rhino shifter. He exhaled and kicked the bat away. It clanked as it bounced across the cage. Walter was still lying there, breathing heavily and dazed. He was groaning and unable to get up. The bell rang. “Fight is over,” Leo yelled as he unlocked the cage. He swung the door open and raced in, grabbing Grayson’s wrist and raising his bloody hand over his head. “The winner!” The bar erupted in cheers as the winner was announced. Dakota rushed into the cage and kissed Grayson’s cheek. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. Luke stepped into the cage, holding the championship belt as Brad screamed at the

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cheering crowd. “You’ll all be fired!” he threatened. The lumberjacks didn’t quiet down. Grayson had knocked out some of the fear of the Cash family. They weren’t so impenetrable after all. “Presenting the new undefeated Ultimate Shifting Champion,” Leo hollered as Luke wrapped the belt around Grayson’s waist. Walter had pulled himself up to a sitting position and was staring at his former belt around the bear shifter’s waist. He had a sad look of longing on his face. Grayson had done it. His friends and him still had jobs and more importantly, Dakota would get to stay. His sexy cowgirl mate kissed him on the lips, pressing her big breasts into his chest. “My hero,” she whispered as the crowd went nuts.

fourteen Grayson woke up with Dakota’s arm wrapped over his stomach and her face resting on his ribs. Her mouth was open and she was drooling on his skin. “I love you,” he whispered to her even though she was deep in La La Land. He looked down at all of his new scars on his body. That was a fight that he would remember forever. He had the mementos all over his skin to remind him in case he forgot. He had a large pink scar on his right palm that matched the one on his stomach and his leg. He flexed his fingers open and closed, his hand as good as new. It had been painful but it had all been worth it. He would get to wake up every morning with this angel in his arms. He leaned over and kissed the blond hair on top

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of her head. She moaned as she stretched and woke up. She looked up at him with tired eyes. “Are you okay?” He smiled. He felt great. Grayson had always healed fast. Even for a shifter. Grayson leaned in to kiss her. She pulled her mouth away. “What is it?” he asked in panic. Did he do something wrong? She scrunched her face up. “I have morning breath.” He smiled. “I don’t care.” “You say that now,” she said, slipping out of the bed and running to the bathroom to brush her teeth. He followed her in and grabbed his toothbrush. “Hurry up,” she said, squeezing toothpaste onto his brush for him. “Why?” he asked. “We have nothing to do today.”

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“You have something to do,” she said, with a smirk. “What?” She smiled. “Me.” They brushed their teeth in record time and ran back to the bed, slipping under the covers and enjoying their sexy Sunday together. She was definitely worth fighting for.

epilogue Three months later… Dakota walked through Bar Knuckle feeling like she was walking on a cloud after the news this morning. Her eyes darted to the door. Every time it opened she looked over, waiting for him to enter. She sighed as three gorilla shifters walked in, muddy from work. Dakota glanced at the clock on the wall behind the bar. Should be any minute now. “Dakota, three beers!” a mountain lion shifter yelled from a couple tables over. “What’s the magic words?” she asked. “Please.” “Wrong,” she answered shaking her head. “Big tip.”

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Luke had the beers ready on the bar as she approached. “I better be the Godfather,” he said with an eyebrow raised. Dakota ran her hand over her stomach. It didn’t feel any bigger. “Keep your voice down,” she whispered. “I’d like the Dad to know before all of Laughlin City.” The squeaky hinges on the door creaked and her head whipped over to the sound. There he was. Grayson walked in with Wyatt, Jack and Hunter close on his heels. His dark eyes found her immediately and his handsome face broke out into a delicious smile. He winked at her, making her cheeks blush, and they headed to their usual table against the wall. Dakota glanced at Walter’s table. The old rhino shifter nodded to Grayson. A deep respect had formed between the two men after their vicious fight. Mr Cash had held up his side of the deal. Dakota had gotten her

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job back and Grayson had kept his position. He had even got promoted two weeks ago, to the horror of Brad. Grayson was one of the fastest lumberjacks that Cash Loggings had ever seen. Brad was still bitter. He stared at his beer with hatred in his eyes. He hated the fact that this Grayson came into town, got the girl that he was after, beat him up, beat up his father and was now working at the logging site as his equal. Grayson had bested him in every way possible. Dakota dropped off the three beers at the mountain lion’s table and had to keep herself from running into the arms of her mate. She loved seeing him after a long day’s work. His shoulders were still coated with flakes from the falling snow outside. She walked up behind him, brushed them off and hugged his neck.

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She couldn’t wait to tell him. He was going to be the father of her child. If he was half as good at being a father as he was at being a mate than she had one lucky kid cooking in her belly. “Meet me in the bathroom,” she whispered in his ear. “Ohhh lucky guy!” Jack said. Apparently she hadn’t whispered low enough. “Oh shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I need him to fix the toilet.” “Sure, sure,” the three guys joked. “I’ll go get your drinks,” she said like a school teacher, “and when I get back make sure your minds are out of the gutter.” She winked at Grayson who had his head turned to watch her walk away. She added some extra sway in her walk for his viewing pleasure. She ducked under the bar and sank down to her knees to reach four cold beers in the back of the fridge.

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“Did you tell him?” Luke asked, sliding up beside her. She shook her head. She glanced back at the table when she stood back up with the beers. Grayson’s chair was empty. She shoved the beer bottles into Luke’s chest. “Bring these to his table.” She was gone before he could protest. She ducked under the bar and ran down the hallway to the women’s bathroom. She burst through the door and Grayson was leaning against the sink waiting for her with a sexy smile. She jumped into his arms and laid a big, fat, juicy kiss on his lips. “I’m pregnant.” He squeezed her biceps and held her out at arms distance while he studied her face to see if this was some kind of a cruel prank. “You’re pregnant?” he whispered. A slow smile was breaking out across his face. Dakota nodded. “We’re pregnant.”

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“Yes!” he cheered as he pulled her into his arms and squeezed her so hard that she let out a grunt. “Sorry,” he said in a panic, releasing her at once. His eyes dropped down to her stomach. “Did I hurt the baby?” She chuckled as she rubbed her stomach. “Don’t worry. I’m sure that he or she is a tough one.” He kissed her lips again and hugged her gently. Dakota felt weightless in his arms. She was truly happy. Just her, her mate and the little cub cooking in the oven.

the end

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***Keep flipping for the first chapter of the next book in the series: Bare Knuckle Grizzly Leaving reviews is sexy! If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review, even if it’s only a line or two; it would be a huge help and would be super awesome. I’ll even send a sexy werebear your way! Reviews can be left here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/ B017RUBGOY Thanks a ton!

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Get it on Amazon (in Kindle Unlimited) No Cliffhanger. HEA.

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Grizzly bear shifter, Hunter Stevens, has just bonded to the newest waitress at the Bar Knuckle. She is curvy and beautiful and the younger sister of one of his best friends. But when his friend Jack says that his sister is off limits he might be in for some trouble. BBW and bear shifter, Brooke Jones, is on the run from her abusive ex. She’s hiding out in the secluded Laughlin City with her over protective brother and his buddies. She’s enjoying herself and becomes more than just friends with Hunter when she’s awaken from her dream and her worst nightmare comes true. Brooke’s life is thrown into chaos when her past catches up to her and threatens the safety of everyone she loves. Hunter and his Grizzly bear will have to step in the metal cage and fight for a mate who he is forbidden to be with. So get a glass of wine and a quiet spot! This one includes fighting and graphic sex. 18+

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Get it on Amazon (in Kindle Unlimited) Book Three. No Cliffhanger. HEA.

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Skyler Cash is back in Laughlin City, the place that she swore she would never return to, and she has her hands full. She is a female human in a town full of male shifters, her brother is trying to steal the family logging company from her and a hot rugged werebear has inexplicably bonded to her. The smart move would be to return to her comfortable life in New York City but she feels that she owes it to someone to stay. Jack Jones is in love. His black bear has bonded with the sexy new human in town, which makes him, and his friends, targets from her multiple enemies. But what is a bear shifter do? Walk away from his mate? Well that ain’t going to happen. When the new town boss, and Skyler’s brother, Brad decides that he wants Skyler out of Laughlin City there is only one shifter who can step in and help her out. But Jack may lose everything for his mate, his friends and for himself when he has to step in the cage

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and face an opponent who will fight dirty and do whatever it takes to win the company and send Skyler away for good.

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Get it on Amazon (Kindle Unlimited) Standalone Paranormal book (HEA. No cliffhanger)

Romance

Mason is an action star on the tail end of his career and the good roles are getting as scarce as his disappearing paychecks. His agent wants him to date his hot coworker Gisella to boost his image but his bear has other plans when he bonds with Joni, the new intern on the set of his latest blockbuster movie. Joni is a self proclaimed dork. Well actually, everyone else proclaims it. She is thrilled when she gets a job on the set of a movie featuring Mason Maloney; her lifelong crush with the perfect abs that she's drooled over since puberty. But will she be able to handle it when the hot bear shifter unexpectedly turns his attention on her?

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But not just the movie and their hearts are on the line. Something very important to Mason is relying on the success of this film. Will he be willing to give up his newly found mate or will everything he’s worked for come crumbling down?

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Get it on Amazon (Free in Kindle Unlimited) Books 1-5 of Kim Fox's Smokejumper series. The hot, werebear, shifter series with over 200 five star reviews! Includes: Part 1: Ellis and Alexi Part 2: Beckett and Amanda Part 3: Finch and Jessica Part 4: Matteo and Lani Part 5: Keene and Chloe Full of comedy, action, suspense and lots of hot sex! 18+

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Get it on Amazon (Free in Kindle Unlimited) Books 1-4 of Kim Fox's Completed Werebears of New Hampshire Series. The hot, werebear, shifter series with over 200 five star reviews! Includes:

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Part 1: Bearly Breathing Part 2: Bearly In Control (Edwin and Grace) Part 3: Bearly Interested (Sidney and Angie) Part 4: Bearly In Time (Connor and Rebecca) Full of comedy, action, suspense and lots of hot sex!

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Once Upon a Shifter A Collection of 10 Paranormal Romance Novellas and Novels Featuring Shifters $0.99 or Free in Kindle Unlimited

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Once Upon a Shifter contains ten sexy, steamy and fun romance shifter novellas (and one full length novel) by some of your favorite, and some new, PNR authors. The perfect way to spend a quiet day now that the little kiddies have gone back to school! Get your pulse racing and your Kindle smoking with these tough and romantic shifters. Includes: 1. Bought by the Billionbear by Zoe Chant 2. Bearly Breathing by Kim Fox 3. Shiftr: Swipe Left for Love (Dina) by Ariana Hawkes 4. Wounds to Bear by Terra Wolf and Lily Marie 5. Midnight Moonrising by K.S. Haigwood and Anne Conley (full length novel!) 6. Bear Bride by Shelley Shifter 7. The Right Bear’s Arms by Nora Eli

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8. An Heir for the Billionaire Werebears by Alyse Zaftig 9. Claimed by the Werebear Billionaire by Mackenzie Black 10. Shifters With Secrets (MMF) by Roxie Noir 11. Plus a secret Bonus Bear Shifter Novella! 18+ Contains lots and lots of dirty talk (oh yeah!) Get it here for $0.99 or Free with Kindle Unlimited

Chapter One of Bare Knuckle Grizzly:

one

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Brooke traced her fingertip over the gash carved into the wooden bar as the pretty waitress with the white cowboy hat and pregnant belly walked towards her. “What can I get you hun?” she asked, with her hand on her hip. Brooke folded her hands in her lap. “Something fruity,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “Fruity?” she asked with a chuckle. “You’re in the wrong bar. We have beer, whiskey, scotch or more beer. If you want fruity I can add a maraschino cherry. But I’m warning you now they may be expired.” “I’ll take a beer,” Brooke said with a shrug. “Hold the cherries.” She didn’t like beer but it didn’t matter. She was here to meet someone. Not to drink. The curvy waitress opened the beer and placed it in front of Brooke. “What brings you up to Laughlin City?” she asked, eying her funny.

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By the looks of the bar it didn’t seem like they got a flood of women traveling up here. The almost empty bar was the ultimate man cave. From the fighting memorabilia on the walls, the shitty rock music playing over the scratchy speakers and of course, the huge metal fighting cage in the back. “I came to visit my brother,” Brooke said, picking at the corner label of her beer. She wasn’t going to tell a stranger the whole reason behind her sudden visit. “Who’s your brother?” the stocky bartender asked, coming out of nowhere. He was shorter than his coworker in the cowboy hat. He had a wiry smile that lit up his handsome face. “Jack,” she said, “Jack Jones.” Brooke was excited to see her brother. She hadn’t seen him in two years. She just wished it wasn’t under these circumstances. The waitress’ face lit up in a smile. “Why didn’t you say so?” she asked, yanking

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Brooke’s beer off the bar. She tossed it into the sink and bent down in front of the fridge. “A sister of Jack’s gets cold beer,” she said reaching into the back of the fridge for another bottle. The old man at the end of the bar leaned over. “I’m Jack’s father,” he said. “Nice try,” the bartender said to him as she opened the cold beer and placed it on the coaster in front of Brooke. The frost was sliding down the brown bottle like tiny icebergs. “I’m Dakota,” she said, offering her hand. “I should have known by your red hair.” “Brooke,” she said, taking Dakota’s cold hand in hers. “That’s Luke,” Dakota said, pointing to the stocky bartender who was trying to work the TV over the bar. “What about me?” the old man at the bar asked.

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“What about you?” Dakota asked. She picked up a peanut out of the dish on the bar and threw it at him. It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder. “That’s Marv. He is the owner of the only grocery store in town. And he’s not going to get another drink until he orders some fucking vegetables for once.” Marv shook his head. “This town is full of carnivores. Carnivores don’t eat salad.” Dakota threw another peanut at him. “Jack didn’t mention that his sister was going to be in town,” Dakota said, leaning on the bar. She was rubbing the bump in her belly. “I wanted to surprise him,” Brooke said, taking a sip of beer and then grimacing at the bitter taste. Dakota was eying her as she nodded. “They’ll be off work soon,” she said. “Stay near me or Luke until Jacky is here, okay?” Brooke picked at the beer label with her finger. “Okay.”

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The bell over the door rang and a bunch of huge shifters walked in, their heads and shoulders covered in snow. Brooke shivered as the cold air hit her. She zipped up her sweater and turned away when the big guy in front pointed her out to the other guys. Chairs squeaked across the floor as the men sat at a table. Mountain lions. Brooke could smell them. “First customers of the day,” Dakota said, straightening her white cowboy hat. “What do you call me?” Marv asked. “I’ll call you a customer when you pay your tab,” she said. “It’s quickly approaching five figures.” “Fair enough,” Marv said. “But what about her?” he asked, pointing to Brooke. Dakota clipped her apron on. “Her drink is on me.” She left before Brooke could say thank you. She walked over to the table of shifters and busted their balls before taking their

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orders. Brooke wondered what her relationship to her brother was. Another group entered the bar and then another and pretty soon the bar was almost full. Brooke stared at her full bottle of beer sitting in front of her as the bar filled up. She watched Dakota and Luke open beers, pour shots and laugh with the customers. This looks like fun. But Brooke wasn’t feisty like Dakota. She wondered if she could handle waitressing for these rugged shifters. The large mountain lion shifter who had pointed her out before walked up to her. He leaned onto the bar beside her. “Hello sexy,” he said, his onion breath assaulting her nose. She smiled tightly and turned back to her beer as he looked her up and down. “Nice legs; what time do they open?” he said with a nauseating smirk on his greasy face.

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“Reece!” Dakota snapped marching over, looking like she was doing a Terminator impression. “Get away from her.” Brooke’s sordid suitor stepped back with his hands in the air. Dakota marched right up to him, her cowboy hat barely coming up to his thick chin. “How would you like to get beaten up by a pregnant woman?” she asked with her finger in his face. “I’ll have Leo fire up the cage.” Reece still had his hands in the air as she scolded him. “I was just saying hi,” he said. “Well you said hi. Now go sit down or I’ll have Luke escort you to your seat.” The huge man glanced over at the much smaller, stocky bartender. Luke waved. Reece lowered his eyes. “Sorry Dakota,” he said. He turned toward Brooke and dipped his head. “Sorry ma’am. Enjoy your drink.”

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“That’s better,” Dakota said, as he slunk back to his seat. She walked over to Brooke and leaned in close. “Anyone else bugs you, just call me over.” Brooke was about to thank her when the bell over the door rang and a familiar smell entered the bar. She turned around on the stool. Dakota rushed across the bar and jumped into the arms of a hot, muscular man with a shaved head. Three men entered behind him but Brooke’s eyes only found one of them. The man with the long, red beard. Her big brother Jack. His mouth dropped and his eyes lit up when he saw her. He ran over and wrapped his arms around his little sister, squeezing her so hard that she was turning blue. “How come he gets to hug her and I can’t even talk to her?” Reece asked Dakota as she walked by him, back to the bar.

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She slapped the back of his massive head. “He’s her brother you dolt.” “Jack?” Reece whispered, looking confused. “What are you doing here?” Jack asked, squeezing Brooke’s arms. She missed that smile which was barely visible under his bushy, reddish beard. Brooke had always loved her big brother. He was the best. “Surprise,” she said. She had come here for a reason but she didn’t want to tell him what that was with half of the bar eavesdropping on them. He kept touching her head and looking at her funny as if she was about to disappear. “Come sit,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to my friends.” “Bye Marv,” she said, as she picked her coat up off the stool. Marv nodded and stood up. “I have to go open the shop,” he said. “Luke put it on my tab.”

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Luke stared at him, shaking his head. Every head in the bar turned as Brooke walked through the tables to the one against the wall. There were three guys sitting at the bar: Dakota’s boyfriend and the two others that she hadn’t noticed before. One had kind eyes with a brown ponytail and the other one was staring at her, looking like he was in shock. His sleeves were rolled up and his muscular arms were covered in tattoos. His eyes were a calm, beachy blue and his mouth was wide open. “Guys,” Jack said. “This is my baby sister Brooke.” He introduced the three guys. Dakota’s boyfriend was Grayson, and the two others were Wyatt and Hunter. Hunter, the one with the tattoos, was still staring at her like a shell shocked soldier as she sat down. Hunter ran his hand through his messy, wavy brown hair and finally composed himself. “What are you doing all the way up

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here?” he asked. “It can’t be to see this guy.” He slapped Jack’s shoulder. Hunter smiled and Brooke looked away shyly. He was hot. Lean and muscular with a nice smile. She could definitely picture curling up to him in front of a fire on a cold winter night. But she wasn’t here for that. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready for a relationship yet after all that she had been through. Was still going through. She was still dealing with her last one. It was the reason why she was here. “I missed my big brother,” she said, hugging Jack again. That was true too. It had been too long. She hugged his muscular arm and rested her cheek on his bicep for a second, smelling the fresh, pine scent of the forest. “Jack you never told me you had a sister,” Grayson said. Brooke noticed a large scar on his hand as he played with the coaster on the table. There was a huge circular

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scar on the back of his hand that was a brighter shade of pink than the rest of his skin. That’s a hell of a paper cut. “That’s because I didn’t want you animals corrupting her,” Jack said. “She’s off limits.” Brooke glanced at Hunter. He dropped his eyes to the table and moved his lips. Did he just curse? “Who’s thirsty?” Dakota asked, popping up at the table with a tray full of beers. The boys all cheered. “Ladies first,” she said, dropping another beer beside Brooke’s first, still full, beer. “Mates second,” she said dropping one in front of Grayson. “And you suckers last.” Dakota placed the rest of the beers in the middle of the table. The boys jumped on them like puppies jumping on their bowls at dinnertime. The door rang open and the whole bar quieted down as four men walked into the

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bar. Brooke gasped at one of the widest men that she’d ever seen. He was an older man with a cigar hanging from his fat lips, a long, crooked nose and suspenders stretched over his massive body. The whole bar went silent, besides the shitty music and the occasional cough, as he walked past the tables. He looked down at Brooke’s table and she felt her blood go cold. Her brother and his friends straightened up as he looked down at them with hard, unflinching eyes. “Grayson,” he said with a deep, scratchy voice. He nodded slightly. “Mr. Cash,” Grayson said, nodding back. “Put this round on my tab Dakota,” this Mr. Cash said. Brooke could smell his animal but she didn’t know what it was. She had never smelled anything like it before. “No problem Mr. Cash,” Dakota replied. “I’ll bring over the usual right away.”

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The weaselly looking man with a mullet and a red trucker hat behind him looked outraged. “Why are you buying them drinks Daddy?” he asked, looking furious. “He cheated when he fought me.” “That’s enough Brad,” Mr. Cash said as he continued to the table in the back, closest to the fighting cage. Brad gave Grayson a dirty look and then followed his Daddy into the back. Two huge goons followed the father and son in silence. Brooke smelt a whiff of gorilla and a whiff of polar bear. The bar came back to life once they were sitting down. “Who the hell are those guys?” Brooke asked. “The old fart is the town boss,” Wyatt explained. “And crybaby mullet head is his spoiled, crybaby son.” “I better go see what they want,” Dakota said, disappearing.

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“He looks mean,” Brooke said, feeling a chill in her bones. Hunter leaned forward, sticking his chest out. “I could take him.” Wyatt and Jack burst out laughing. “He usually only talks this tough after his fifteenth beer,” Wyatt said. “He’s only on his second sip.” “What is he?” Brooke asked. “Hunter?” Jack said. “He’s just a grizzly bear. And a pretty mediocre one at that.” Hunter frowned. He looks even hotter when he’s frowning. “I meant Mr. Cash,” Brooke said. “What kind of animal?” “Rhino,” Grayson answered. He held up his hand with the large, pink scar. “Courtesy of his horn.” Hunter puffed his chest out again. “One day I’ll turn that horn into keys for my piano.” He was trying to impress her but

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failing spectacularly. But he was cute for trying. “Where was all of that tough talk when we were actually fighting him?” Wyatt asked. “Where are you going to put a piano?” Jack asked. “Your cabin is as small as this table.” “It was just…you know…a figure of speech,” Hunter said stumbling on his words. “Are you okay Hunter?” Grayson asked, looking at him funny. Hunter’s eyes shot to Brooke and his cheeks turned red. “I’d put my money on you,” Brooke said, trying to help him out. He smiled from ear to ear and took a sip of beer. Jack grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. “Come I’ll show you around,” he said, pulling her up, not waiting for an answer.

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“We’ll be right back,” Brooke said to her brother’s friends. Hunter was staring at her with raised eyebrows. Jack guided her into the back of the bar to the monstrous metal cage. He pulled her behind the cage where they had some privacy. Jack leaned on the cage and Brooke leaned on the wooden paneled walls. “I know you didn’t trek up into another country and all the way to this shit hole for a social call,” he said, stroking his beard. “What’s up?” She smiled nervously. “I just needed to get away.” Jack crossed his big arms over his bigger chest. “From what?” Brooke sighed. “I was seeing a guy. A lion shifter.” “A lion shifter?” Jack exploded. “What did I tell you about those cats?” Brooke rolled her eyes. She loved her big brother but he was always trying to

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control her and was way too overprotective. You shouldn’t complain. That over protectiveness is what you need now. “He…became violent,” she whispered. “What?!?” he screamed out. The whole bar was looking at them through the cage. “I’ll kill him!” “It’s fine,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm trying to calm him down. The large vein in his neck was pulsing. That was his black bear trying to get loose. “I left him. And I just needed to get away. That’s all.” “Is he going to stay gone?” Jack asked. “Or is he going to be a problem?” Brooke ran her hand through her red hair. “He’s going to stay gone,” she lied. Alex, her ex, had not taken the news well. He had threatened to find her wherever she went and make her pay. That’s when she decided to visit her brother in the most remote location ever.

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Jack was breathing easier after hearing the lie. “It’s so good to see you,” Brooke said, leaning on the wall. “I don’t want you to think that I came here just for that. I missed you bro.” His face softened and he stepped forward and hugged her. “I missed you too sis. It’s great to see you.” He let go of her and motioned back to the table. “Let’s go catch up.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was safe here with Jack. Alex wouldn’t find her all the way up here. Would he?

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Get it on Amazon (in Kindle Unlimited)

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