A One Woman Job

Chapter 7

7

Koen

M eg blushes when she wakes up and realizes she’s in my arms.

It has been hours since I carried her into my home and laid her in bed. Leaving her here alone while I disposed of the dead man and his car was rather irritating, but I’m back now, holding the angel as she rests. I should be in the kitchen, fixing her something better than a granola bar to eat, but I can’t bring myself to abandon this feeling. This fiercely beautiful girl snuggling into the crook of my arm, her bent leg resting on my thighs. Her bare pussy is warm and soft against my hip, which has left my dick very hard for a very long time. I still haven’t relieved myself since getting her off in the field—and I don’t want to.

Not until I can be inside of her.

I’m fixated on doing exactly that. My willpower is being poured into resisting the urge to roll Meg onto her back, stroke and kiss her until she’s wet, then take her virginity.

I need it so bad.

I need to be her first and last. Need it understood that no one else will ever have the privilege of holding her while she sleeps. The privilege of fucking her.

Before Meg, women were no more interesting to me than a mile marker on the highway. Of course, every once in a while, sexual energy needs to be expended, but the act was always impersonal. Like everything else I do, I make goddamn sure I’m the best in case those skills will serve me in my line of work. So I studied the physical responses of these faceless women. Listened to their screams and pinpointed the parts of the female body that need the most attention to reach climax.

I never expected to feel reborn in the face of woman’s pleasure.

Meg’s.

When her body shook so sweetly for my tongue earlier, I was blessed with a new purpose in life. Give this woman a lifetime of bliss, any way I can.

None of this is hidden in my expression when she blinks into a state of consciousness and looks up at me, yawning drowsily. Blushing. I don’t deserve to experience innocence this closely, but I can’t look away. Can’t stop the obsession for her that is growing inside me so rapidly, I can feel it snapping tethers inside of my body.

“Hi,” she says softly, turning her pink face into my bare chest. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Four hours.”

Worry creases her brow, but she stays silent, staring off into the distance.

“Are you concerned about something?” I ask, my fingertips stroking a path from her temple to the curve of her shoulder. “Tell me what it is.”

“I’m…” She swallows, seeming unsure. “I’m usually home now. My brothers and sisters need me and I’m not there.”

I absorb this information about her like a greedy sponge. I’ve been too busy to make inquiries about Meg’s background, and to be honest, for the first time ever, I think I want to find out about her naturally. I want information about her to come freely, from her perfect mouth, because she trusts me. “Brothers and sisters,” I repeat, trying not to sound too eager. “How many?”

“Four. All younger.”

“Are your parents in the picture?”

Does she realize her heart is knocking faster and faster against my side? Why is this line of questioning bothering her so much? “My mother left, but my father is still there. That’s who is watching them right now.” Under her breath, she adds, “Hopefully.”

“This is why you work two jobs and a side hustle. You’re supporting your family.” My throat feels strange. “At just eighteen.”

“Mmm.”

“You’ve been doing it a lot longer than that, though, haven’t you?”

“I love them,” she says simply.

“What can I do, Meg? Would you like to bring them here?”

Those hazel eyes are astonished when she turns them on me. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I…no. No, I wouldn’t bring that chaos to your doorstep. Plus, I think they would just be confused. After all…”

“After all, what?”

“Even I still don’t know very much about you.”

My shields are rising, but I fight to keep them down. Some of them, at least. I’m gratified that Meg wants to know more about me. Surely that’s normal. Two people entering a relationship with one another would exchange information, wouldn’t they? “Is there something specific you want to know?”

Her index finger starts drawing lazy circles in the valley between my pecs and my God, if she knew what that minor touch was doing to my cock, she’d run for the exit.

Or maybe not.

She loved having my tongue between her legs.

Nearly gave my whiplash when she came, her long, lithe thighs were so tight around my head, her pussy dripping everywhere. She wasn’t shy about spreading her legs for my mouth, maybe she’ll do the same for my dick.

Don’t be greedy. You’re lucky to simply be holding her. Speaking to her.

“Um.” Her tone is shy, and I must be sicker than I realized, because that only serves to make me hornier. “Do you have…family?”

Thankfully, the shield guarding my personal life is up. Saying these words out loud can’t hurt me. “No. I have no family. My parents owed a debt to a powerful woman when I was young. I was given to her as payment. She trained me to work for her.”

“Koen,” Meg chokes out. “I’m sorry.”

Her sympathy kicks at my shield, leaving a dent. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Meg,” I rasp, in desperation. “Can you…ask me about something else?”

My eyes slide closed when she begins those lazy finger circles again. “What sort of work did she train you to do?”

I shake my head. “This was a mistake.” She recoils as if I’ve slapped her, quickly drawing her hand away and I realize she misinterpreted my statement to mean she is the mistake. Being with her. As if that could ever be true. Panicked, I grab her wrist and bring her fingertips back to my body. “The questions, Meg. I meant allowing you to ask me questions was a mistake.” Possessiveness snaps in my blood, disturbed by even a hint of her withdrawal.” You assume my mind could change when it comes to you? I promise you, it won’t. I am murderously serious about you. Please don’t stop touching me.”

I don’t relax until she resumes the gentle circles.

But she doesn’t speak again.

I’ve shut her down and the longer the silence stretches, the emptier I feel.

“Meg.” Am I actually going to say this out loud? To the girl I want to stay with me forever of her own free will? “My job is unusual.”

“You’re talking to someone who makes paper airplanes for cash.”

An odd sound leaves me, almost like a strained laugh, but nothing about standing on this precipice is funny. “What I do is…Meg, I don’t know what to say.”

“Koen.” She raises her head to look at me, scared but brave. “I already kind of pieced together that what you do is, um…illegal.”

My lungs aren’t working. Is she going to run? “That’s putting it mildly.”

Visibly deep in thought, she wets her lips. “Drugs?”

“No, baby.”

“You don’t traffic people.”

“No, Meg. God, no.” I take the heaviest breath of my life and make sure my arm is around her as securely as possible, in case she bolts. This is the moment I realize…I wouldn’t let her leave, if she tried. Jesus, I’m in very deep. “But I’ve killed a few men who do.” My swallow is heavy. “I’ve killed a lot of men, Meg.”

Her back stiffens and she blinks several times, tears swimming in her eyes. “I think maybe I already knew,” she whispers, barely audible.

“I’ve stopped.” I remember the man’s neck I snapped last night. “Mostly.”

There’s a long pause. “Why did you stop?”

“I can’t talk about that,” I say quickly. I don’t have shield for this. I haven’t had time to develop one. There’s nothing but a gaping wound and thinking about what happened on my last assignment only pours more and more salt into the injury. “Okay?”

She’s disappointed, even though she’s nodding.

I can’t bear it.

Shouldn’t I reward her for not running when I revealed I’m a professional killer?

“There was a job,” I say, my lips numb. I’ll only tell her surface level stuff, just so she won’t be disappointed. I won’t get too detailed. “I was hired to remove someone, Meg. And…I didn’t recognize the name when I received the assignment. I’ve seen so many names on paper over the years.” Stop here. You should stop here. But I don’t. Because she slips her hand into mine and kisses my shoulder and it all comes spilling out. “His grandmother used to feed me, before my parents traded me to cover their debt. I would wait at her backdoor, covered in filth and she’d give me a paper plate of whatever they’d eaten for dinner that night. She was so kind to me. The only person who’d ever been kind to me and I…I killed her grandson. She discovered him in a pool of his own blood.”

I’m shocked to feel moisture trickle down my side. It’s Meg’s tears.

She’s crying for me?

“Why did you kill him?”

“He was a cocaine smuggler. He made a deal with a rival operation. My boss wanted to make an example out of him. I didn’t even think, I just fulfilled my duty. That’s what I always do. It’s just an endless cycle of violence.”

“And you don’t want to do it anymore.”

“No.” I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head. I can’t believe she isn’t trying to leave me. “Problem is, I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“You play a mean violin.” She wraps her arm around my middle and holds me, too, as if she can sense I’m about to fall apart. “Maybe…maybe the problem is that you never take a break? Maybe you need a vacation from your job…before you go back. That’s normal, isn’t it? Professional burnout?”

“I suppose so.” My lips twitch, because I sense she’s trying to make light of a heavy topic, which is so like my Meg. But my amusement fades to dread. Dread of her answer to my next question. “Would you stay with me if I returned to my job?”

Several seconds pass. I hold my breath, but she finally nods. “Yes.”

I can’t hide my surprise. Or my immense relief. “You’re taking this very well.”

“I have no choice,” I think she says, her tone conflicted.

But I can’t be sure.

Later, I’ll recall this moment and be sure, though.