I have been a contract killer since I was a boy. For years I savored the fear caused by my name, the trembling at the sight of my tattoos. The stars on my knees, the marks on my fingers, the dagger in my neck, all bespoke of danger. If you saw my eyes, it was the last vision you’d have. I have ever been the hunter, never the prey. With her, I am the mark and I am ready to lie down and let her capture me. Opening my small scarred heart to her brings out my enemies. I will carry out one last hit, but if they hurt her, I will bring the world down around their ears.
I’ve been sheltered from the outside world all my life. Homeschooled and farm-raised, I’m so naive that my best friend calls me Pollyanna. I like to believe the best in people. Nikolai is part of this new life, and he’s terrifying to me. Not because his eyes are cold or my friend warns me away from him, but because he’s the only man that has ever seen the real me beneath the awkwardness. With him, my heart is at risk..and also, my life.
I have fallen for a hitman. I never thought in my heart of hearts that I could possibly love someone who was a born killer. But I have. He does not know love, only death. He tries to reason with himself—he brings mercy to the people who surround the target. He is Nikolai. He is a killer. But I don’t care. He owns me.
“I do not know what love is. I know lust and anger. Despair and satisfaction. But love? No. That is not for me.”
Until he meets Daisy.
Daisy rarely sees the outside world. She lives with her father who is a recluse. After her mother was murdered, the killer remaining in jail for two years, and upon his exit, he confessed in court that he would come after her father, blaming him for locking him away. So her father lives in fear and doesn’t allow Daisy to leave the house unless she is running errands. This is her life for 21 years—21 long years until she can’t take it anymore.
“I have planned for THIS day in secret for six long years, I think as I wake up and stretch, a giddy burn in my stomach that might be nerves.
Today I will escape.”
She can’t take it any longer. She runs. She is desperate to be free. To have a life. To live. To feel.
“I want a hero. A big strong, handsome prince to come rescue me from my miserable life. But since one has not arrived, I must rescue myself.”
She takes a six-hour bus ride to Minneapolis where she found an apartment online to rent with Reagan, a cheerful, beautiful girl who will become her friend. Her “fresh start” is about to begin.
“I watch her through my bathroom window. I’ve placed one of my four rented chairs in here for that express purpose. I tell myself it is not creepy, as the American girls would say, because I watch everyone. But really I watch only her.”
Uh, yeah, kinda creepy, but he is so FLIPPIN hot that I seriously could give a flyin sh*t if he was watching me. I can hear his accent in my head and picture all the hot things he’d do to me while whispering to me in Russian while his tongue runs up my body. HOLY FREAKIN MOLY!!!
Anyway, they meet and it’s like time stops. She is immediately fascinated by him and him by her. They spend time together, get to know each other. She doesn’t know what he is or what he does, not really.
He doesn’t think he is good enough for her. He doesn’t think he deserves love. She is so lonely, so desperate to be normal and to be loved. She tries to be strong, to embrace her independence. They have so much in common, yet their differences are so profound.
This book will give you the ride of your life. There is love, adventure, intrigue, murder, death, separation. You’ll be hanging on for life wondering where it will lead. Will they overcome their obstacles? Will they make it out alive? Will they find peace, happiness, or will the demons from the past take over and allow evil to win?
Do not miss Last Hit. It is different than anything I’ve read. It will suck you in and spit you out and leaving you saying WHAT THE DUCK WAS THAT?!? And maybe you will fall in love with a hitman, too. I know I did!!!
Chapter One posted at Natasha is a Book Junkie and can be found HERE
Chapter Two posted at Angie’s Dreamy Reads and can be found HERE
Chapter Three posted at The Rock Stars of Romance and can be found HERE
Chapter Four posted at The Rock Stars of Romance and can be found HERE
I feel restless and think perhaps I should review the information I have compiled for the mark or perhaps look at the routing pattern left by the caller from Neuchâtel. I do neither because as I begin to draw back from the scope her motions arrest me. Her small hand with the pink tipped nails are moving over her belly. One finger traces the tiny lace adorning the top band of her panties. My breath is suspended. Time is suspended.
I have never seen this before. She has never touched herself. Never brought a man home with her. I’d have shot him, maybe. No, I would’ve caused some disturbance. Something. I thought her maybe an innocent and fantasized about awakening her. But now her small fingers are delving beneath the cotton. I can see the bumps of her knuckles as the press against the pale pink fabric. She is moving her fingers in circles.
I imagine my own fingers, much larger, darker and more rough, pressing down upon hers. My fingers flex involuntarily at the thought of her pussy beneath my touch. I’d stroke her lightly and in circles as that is what she appears to like. I’d move my fingers lower, beyond her clit to her hot cunt. It would be wet, dripping wet. My fingers would be soaked and I would pause so that I could lick her sweet honey off each digit.
My cock is so hard I fear that it will break against the denim of my jeans. I draw a hand over my chest and pinch my own nipple hard imagining it is her tiny white teeth tugging on it. I’ve broken out in a light sweat.
Her legs tense and her hand motions become more frantic. I can see her chest rise and fall rapidly and her whole body is strained but when her release comes it is truncated. The look on her face is of frustration rather than satisfaction. She wets her plump lips and closes her eyes. She begins again but again she is unfulfilled.
My emotions war against each other. Unhappiness that she cannot find her own fulfillment but fierce possessiveness arising out of an idea I’ve tried to suppress. In my mind, only I can bring her to orgasm and release. I can teach her to touch herself in a way that will be pleasurable and satisfying.
I would not start with her pussy. No, the skin is the largest sex organ. I would stroke my hands over every inch, starting from her forehead. My lips and fingers would smooth away any furrows. My hands would encircle her neck and sweep down over her shoulders to her fine wrists.
I’d rub my body over hers so that she smelled of me. When she walked on campus, other men would stay away recognizing she was marked as my own. Belonging to Nikolai. Maybe I would tattoo it around her neck like a collar.
About the Authors
Jen Frederick lives with her husband, child, and one rambunctious dog. She’s been reading stories all her life but never imagined writing one of her own. Jen loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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Author Jessica Claire
This is a pen name for Jill Myles.
Jill Myles has been an incurable romantic since childhood. She reads all the ‘naughty parts’ of books first, looks for a dirty joke in just about everything, and thinks to this day that the Little House on the Prairie books should have been steamier.
After devouring hundreds of paperback romances, mythology books, and archaeological tomes, she decided to write a few books of her own – stories with a wild adventure, sharp banter, and lots of super-sexy situations. She prefers her heroes alpha and half-dressed, her heroines witty, and she loves nothing more than watching them overcome adversity to fall into bed together.
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