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I drive the knife up to the bastard’s throat. “Be out in a second, honey.”
“Okay,” Lance answers, unaffected by my ecstatic tone.
Just one of the many benefits of a five-year-long working relationship with my vendors. They know me.
Back to the task at hand.
My grin widens as I slash through the guy’s muscles, tendons, and flesh.
“Grgrgrgrgr.”
Jesus fuck. Not that again.
“What was that, dear?” I pull the knife out and cut his throat horizontally. There’s a bump in the road, the place where I cut him vertically. From there, it’s smooth sailing. “I don’t think I quite heard you.”
“Gr…” is the last I hear of him.
In less than ten seconds, the room bathes in blessed silence. I reach into his pocket, pleased to find his irresponsible ass brought his wallet with him.
“Charlie Smith. Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. We’ll find out who you are later.” I press the man closer to my body as I swivel to open the door. “Trash.”
A gray-haired older man and his blond son who weighs over two hundred pounds of pure muscle wait for me there.
“All yours.” I push the lifeless body toward Shawn, standing in the doorway to hide Amara. “I hope it goes without saying, you two were never here.”
“Never.” Lance passes me one of my black suits, as per our work contract. His gaze moves to the floor and the puddle of blood at my feet. “Need help with that?”
“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
The less people around Amara—unless they’re my stepdad—the better. Even more so considering she might stir from her forced slumber any moment now.
They start pushing the body into a floral leather bag to hide the fact they’re carrying a body. Meanwhile, I hang my suit on the door handle, stripping the evidence off my body for them to burn.
After I’m in nothing but my black briefs, I hand them over the dirty clothes. The burglar is already crammed into the body bag, and I push a few hundred-dollar bills into Lance’s hand.
Their retainer ensures they do their job. That they’ll go the extra mile for us.
“Enjoy the rest of the evening.” I salute them, shutting the door a second time today.
Finally, silence. No one here except Amara and me.
“Pet.” Her nickname is barely a whisper on my lips as I squat down next to her. My knuckles graze her temple. It’s a soft touch, unlike my rock-hard cock. “You know how I love to fuck your mouth while you’re sleeping or make you come so hard that you wake up. So forgive me for this.” I gesture toward the mess the asshole left behind. “I have some cleaning up to do.”
I bend to brush my lips across her forehead. Sniffing her hair. Inhaling the jasmine scent of her shampoo.
“Later when you sleep at my place,” I growl with a barely contained need, “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll pound into those plump, beautiful lips until you choke. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Hmph,” is all she gives me.
Hmph is all the consent I’ll ever need.
CHAPTER THREE
Amara
“Pet.” Carter’s voice pulls me out of the void. Out of the darkness.
Muffin.
