Page 55 of Hannah and the Hitman
Same went for the small bruises that were beginning to bloom on her hips, reminders for both of us of how I took her, how she wanted it. Needed it. To me, they were more claiming marks. Proof she was mine, that only I could satisfy her secret cravings and desires.
It made me want more of her and less of what Sal Reggiano wanted from me. He’d found out that Turkleman was dead, that I’d fulfilled my contract. I hadn’t checked the news, but it was possible there was an article about it.
Except a second text, this one from Dax, reassured me everything was fine.
The turkey was cooked just right. No leftovers.
Meaning no news reports. No investigation, or if there was one, it wouldn’t lead anywhere.
I was done. Not only for Reggiano, but completely. I didn’t need to kill for a living any longer. I sure as hell didn’t need the money. After last night, I definitely could find more amusing ways to fill my time.
Dax and I did our jobs, didn’t ask questions and didn’t get involved in drama. That was what made us good. Made us dependable and professional.
It also made us untouchable and alone. Big Mike had taught us that was the way to be. I’d thought he was right. Until now.
I didn’t want to be untouchable. Hell, I fucking loved when Hannah touched me. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be alone, unless Hannah was with me, and we were alone together.
She offered me the life I didn’t know I wanted. Peace. Quiet. Hell, I’d even move to Coal Springs and start shitting glitter.
The water in the bathroom shut off and I imagined Hannah stepping out of the shower and using a towel to dry off. All ready for me to get dirty all over again.
With my thumbs, I typed out my reply to Sal’s message.
I quit.
Ever since fourth grade, Dax and I had been trained by his dad to take out the fucking trash. Retiring should’ve been harder than a text, but it was the easiest fucking thing.
Two words and I was free. I’d decline other work too, but this was the start. This was the beginning of saying no, of my new life with Hannah. I poured two mugfuls of coffee and carried them to my bedroom.
To start my new life in the best way possible. Naked with my girl.
38
HANNAH
“You read too fast,” Jack said. “Slow down.”
We were on his leather couch, the day after the Night My Vagina Broke. It would go down in infamy for me. When I was ninety, I’d remember it. For now, I wasfeelingit. I was sore and while he had the most incredible stamina in bed, he needed a break, too.
I didn’t have to work today so he’d ordered in everything bagels and all the fixings; veggie cream cheese, capers, lox, and even sliced tomatoes. This didn’t need to be cooked and yet he hadn’t had any of it in his kitchen, proof that he really didn’t use it.
Except for coffee. That he made and did a really good job of it.
Our plates in the dishwasher and refilled mugs on the aptly named coffee table beside us, I was tucked betweenJack’s legs, my back to his front. We were reading from my e-reader which I always carried with me in my purse.
Jack had insisted we read a romance together. I had a feeling he intended to act out any sex scene that we came across. With this author, there were going to be quite a few before The End. My pussy silently whimpered at the idea of more Big D, but Jack was inventive and very creative so I knew he’d satisfy us both in other ways.
“You slow down when we get to the sex scenes,” I muttered. I held the e-reader in one hand, the other on his jean-clad thigh. Yes, jeans. I figured he owned some, but this was a first. The fact that that wasallhe wore made me happy. In return, all I wore was one of his white dress shirts.
I was fed, well satisfied and cozy in Jack’s arms.
“Research.”
I giggled which made him tickle me. Which made me drop the e-reader onto the soft carpet beside the couch. Which made my hands free so when I rolled over, I could let them roam his bare chest.
“When did you start getting tattoos?” I asked, running my fingertip over a Celtic band on his bicep.
“Sixteen. Dax and I have matching ones.”