Hitman's Secret Baby: A Bad Boy Romance (8 page)

I wanted to push the issue—I wanted to push a lot of issues, in fact—but I didn’t. Mason never did react well to being pushed. I felt I even had some right to, after everything, but it didn’t seem fair to wield that right like a weapon.

If Mason wanted to talk, he’d talk.

I looked out of the window. We were high up now, the town a twinkling scatter of lights below us, getting farther and farther away. He was taking us away from civilization, it seemed.

“Where are you even going?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” Mason said. “I like to drive around sometimes.”

“You still do that?”

“Don’t get much opportunity in New York.” He shrugged. “But when I’m on a job, yeah.”

Mason used to go for drives when he was stressed out or upset. When his mother was killed, he jacked a neighbor’s car and went for a joyride, being too young to own one of his own.

Some things really did never change. I’d told Justin earlier that I couldn’t possibly love Mason because I didn’t know him, but Mason was making it difficult to keep up that protest. He just kept demolishing all of the preconceived notions about him that I’d built up since the day of Anna’s crashed wedding.

As we sped through the country roads, past the thick trees and open fields, I found it more and more difficult to take my eyes off him. My hand crept out like a thing possessed, touching his thigh, spreading over the denim.

I watched him swallow and lick his lips in profile.

“You’re like two people, you know that?” I said suddenly, my voice coming out without any forethought.

“How’s that?”

“When you came back, all I could see was the hitman,” I admitted. “And he’s terrifying and sexy and I hate myself for thinking that.”

Mason stared ahead for a moment. “And who’s the other guy?”

“Just you. Mason who laughs and jokes and likes to drive his troubles away.”

My hand tightened on his thigh, slipping over and between his legs. It was reckless, but that was what he made me feel: total reckless abandon.

The car slowed and it seemed he had enough sense to try to find a place to park. I felt the anticipation in my stomach, knowing exactly why.

“It’s not like you’re ever gonna stop being a hitman, right?” I prompted, my fingertips finding the shape of his cock under his jeans.

“Taryn,” he sighed.

“What?” I said lightly, curling my hand over him. “It’s just a question.”

“You can’t ask me that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business,” he snapped, and then he winced. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

I pressed down with the flat of my palm and felt his cock stiffen, cutting off his apology.

I didn’t care. He could get angry all he wanted, but all it meant was that he was thinking things through and coming up with conclusions that made him question himself.

“I can’t figure out which of those guys you are,” I told him in a low voice, rubbing his stiffening cock through the denim until he gasped.

“Whichever’s gonna get me laid right now.”

I scoffed, biting my lip. If I didn’t want him so bad, I might have stopped touching him just to make him suffer, but I hadn’t gotten to have him the other night and like I told Justin—I had needs.

Between a patch of cherry blossoms, in a wide ditch off the side of the fairly obscure road, Mason finally came to a stop.

The heel of my hand brought him to full hardness and, with the feeling of seclusion and being shrouded in darkness a heady mixture, I leaned over, pressing my mouth against his ear. “Show me the hitman.”

He yanked me from my seat and into his lap, gripping my hips with his hands like branding irons.

Our mouths hovered close and Mason bit my lower lip between his teeth, dragging it outwards. “You sure about that?” he growled.

“Yes.”

I already felt yielding against him. I knew I was playing with fire, asking for this side of him, but I
wanted
it.

“Is this why you wanted to see me tonight?” he asked slyly. “Finish what we started at the diner?”

“No,” I said honestly.

Mason frowned, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Then why? Tell me.”

The intensity of his gaze caught me off guard. I didn’t know if I could lie to him, and my mouth moved before I was fully ready.

“Because I wanted to spend time with you.”

His features went slack and he blinked. Quickly, Mason shook his head, making a fist in my hair and pulling me in for a brutal kiss that stole my breath away.

He broke away, murmuring against my mouth, “Get on your knees.”

My breath hitched. I swallowed, spit flooding my mouth at the thought, and I slipped off Mason’s lap and to my knees in the cramped foot well, pulling at his button and zipper and freeing his hard cock.

I knew he was big, but up close I realized just how big. It didn’t scare me—it thrilled me.

I stroked him with my hand, wet my lips, and took the head of his cock into my mouth.

He threw his head back against the headrest and groaned. I looked up at him from my knees, slowly moving my mouth down to take as much of him in as I could manage, watching his eyes slam shut and his teeth sink into his lower lip in pleasure.

It felt good to have this kind of power over him. A killer of countless men and I had him melting in my mouth. It was intoxicating, a terrible addiction, and I slid my tongue around the head of his cock, sucking soft kisses down the shaft.

“That’s good,” he moaned, his hand so gentle in my hair. I reeled from the praise, taking more of him into my mouth, the head hitting the back of my throat. “God, Taryn.”

I hummed around him, slurping back up and taking him right back down again. What I couldn’t reach, I stroked with my hand, and it wasn’t long before his thighs were tensing.

“Stop,” he told me.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, looking up at him through my lashes. “Tell me what you want.”

He growled again, tugging me upwards. “I want to fuck you.” He opened the car door, the muggy air hitting us, and climbed out, pulling me with him. “Spread yourself out over the hood.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from groaning. His voice was low and rough, sending heat flooding between my legs.

I did what he said, standing at the front bumper and bracing my palms against the hood, still warm from the engine. I was bent over it, my skirt pulling up with the position and my ass in the air for him.

He stopped somewhere behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see him taking me in.

I caught his eye and he grinned wolfishly. “Damn hot, Taryn.”

His scrutiny was intense and my elbows locked, my arms trembling where they held me up. I ached to be touched, throbbing between my legs, but still he looked and looked, raking his eyes over my vulnerable position.

Suddenly, I felt him grip my ass cheek, his fingers sliding underneath my clothes. “I’m gonna nail your tight little pussy,” he promised, stretching over my back to nip at the nape of my neck with his teeth.

“Please,” I begged. God, I wanted it. He was driving me crazy.

“You’ll have to beg prettier than that.”

He pushed up my skirt, kneading my ass and dragging his denim-covered cock against me. It was rough, scratching at his zipper, and I loved it.

“Please, Mason,” I whimpered, almost a sob. “Please,
please
fuck me, I want it so bad.”

“That’s nice,” he praised, stroking my back. I heard him fumbling the fastenings on his jeans and my heart kicked up in anticipation. “That’s real nice.”

His voice was like a purr, the car was hot under my palms, and the air was sticky on my skin. I was overwhelmed, and when Mason merely moved my underwear aside and pushed his cock into me, I felt like a million live wires were sparking under my skin.

This version of him was merciless; he didn’t start slow or seem to care at all about whether or not I was okay.

He pounded into me, stroke after hard stroke, and I loved every bit of it, arching my spine and scratching up the paintjob, begging for more.

Mason gripped my hips and took my body for his own, using me to pleasure his own cock.

“You like that?” he asked roughly.

I moaned helplessly, rippling with sensation. “Yes.”

His fingers curled around my front and over my clit where he rubbed me, just short of too hard. “How about that?”

“God, yes,” I groaned.

In seconds, I clenched around him and came, my voice jerking out of me with every brutal thrust of his cock. He kept his fingertips over my clit, kept fucking me, and the oversensitivity started to hurt.

I gasped, ready to pull his hand away from me, but he bit into the back of my neck, telling me, “You’re gonna come again.”

He didn’t let up at all, and I was arching, half to get away and half to get closer. The pain felt like pleasure, the pleasure like pain. My every nerve ending was on fire. I was a barely lucid mess, senselessly begging Mason to keep fucking me even as I could hardly keep my legs under me anymore.

Mason held me around my waist, angled his thrusts perfectly, and sent me over the edge again.

“That’s it,” he told me, his voice losing its steadiness now. “That’s it, baby.”

I cried out one last time, trembling incoherently, unable to take any more of this, and Mason finally came, his cock held deep inside me until he was spent.

When he released me, I slumped against the hood of the car, my face smushed against my forearm.

“Good
god
,” I said hoarsely.

Mason tossed the condom into the trees, still somehow standing.

“You okay?” he asked smugly, and I rolled over right there on the car to look at his pleased little smirk.

“Not bad,” I drawled.

“You look like you’re struggling a bit, there.”

“Shut your face.”

He reached down to grab my wrist and pull me up into his arms. I was slack, trusting him to hold me up. He may have just given me a taste of the hitman, but he was Mason through and through in how he held me close.

I leaned up to kiss him, a sated and lazy kiss that sent warmth all through me.

Mason pulled me off my feet and walked to the passenger side of the car, setting me down there and opening it up so I could climb inside.

I slumped in the seat, exhausted. This whole night had felt like a powerful release, and I was better for it, much of the tension I’d been holding in my body just dissipating.

Mason climbed in and started the engine and got back on the road.

I switched on the radio and tuned up the volume until the music was blasting out, tossing Mason a carefree grin that he returned.

If things could always be like this, like we were kids again, sneaking off and having sex in the car, driving around listening to too-loud music…

But they couldn’t, could they? My smile felt melancholy. Here, we felt like the only two people in the world, but out there people wanted to hurt Ethan and take Mason away all over again.

I reached over and took his hand, squeezing it briefly, just wanting to touch him.

Mason chuckled. “I’d better get you back home.”

It sent a stab of disappointment through me. I knew it couldn’t be any other way, though, and I told him, “Okay,” and let the motions of the car lull me into a kind of peace.

Having him inside me had made me feel less on edge. Sharing memories had been nice, too. Mason’s company had gone from rage-inducing to a thing I craved in such a short period of time, and I did worry how far this would end up going.

Justin’s warnings hit me again.

Driving under the moonlight, Mason’s silvery profile relaxed and sated, I knew I was being foolish. I knew I shouldn’t be letting myself fall into these kinds of feelings.

There was so much at stake, so much danger. I was walking down a bad road.

The scary thing was that I just couldn’t find it in me to care.

Chapter Eight
Mason

I waited, slumped on Taryn’s sofa with my elbows against my knees.

Not much scared me anymore, but sitting here, waiting for my sister to arrive, was enough to make my stomach twist. It’d been an oddly surreal week, the way me and Taryn had spent so much time together, living in some kind of reckless daze like it was just the two of us in all the world again, but today was set to bring me crashing back down to Earth.

“It’ll be fine,” Taryn told me, not for the first time. She began to pace the room, showing her own nerves.

“You’re not helping,” I snapped.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Oh, really? My apologies. Next time you let your sister believe you’re dead for ten years, I’ll make tea instead.”

She had this incredible way of taking the wind from my sails. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized how angry my days without her were, how easy it was to lose myself in darkness when there was nobody to pull me out of it.

“I’m sorry,” I said stiffly. “I can’t stand this waiting.”

“You never were a patient guy.”

“You didn’t see me laid on a sniper outpost for eight hours waiting for a mark to leave a casino in Atlanta.”

Taryn pulled a face, half exasperated and half uncomfortable. “No. I didn’t. Thank God.”

I didn’t know why I kept bringing these things up. Part of me wondered if I was trying to push her away, some subconscious fear of getting too close again. Just a week ago she’d admitted that one day she might be able to truly forgive me. I’d wanted it so much before, in that reckless and selfish way I’d wanted a lot of things, but reality of it was… terrifying.

The implications were huge. Could I really stay here and be a father? Could I live like a normal man after so long living as a ghost? The possibility had never genuinely occurred to me, even as I showed Taryn my regrets.

But now, with our growing closeness and the warmth in Taryn’s eyes, I couldn’t escape the future on the table.

It made my skin itch. Fear and doubt were my biggest enemies and they came in abundance here.

“Heads up,” Taryn suddenly said, looking out of the window. “They’re here.”

I stood, bracing myself. I slouched my shoulders a little, leaning my weight on one foot—anything to look less threatening.

I heard the front door open, Taryn greeting a tense-sounding Anna and a nervous-sounding Ethan. They exchanged a few brief pleasantries, with Taryn asking, “How was the honeymoon?” and Ethan starting to ramble.

Anna’s voice rang clearly from the hall above it all, though. “
Where is he
?”

“Lounge,” Taryn said softly.

My sister’s footsteps came sharp and intent and she rounded the doorframe with a look on her face that almost cut me. She stood in the center of the living room, her hands balled into fists by her side, her breath coming hard, and I waited, allowing her the courtesy of speaking first.

It was the least I owed her. As I looked at her now, face to face for the first time in years, the weight of my debt almost crushed me.

I was too enamored to speak anyway. She was still my beautiful baby sister, same passionate expressions, same tall and slender frame like mine, same green eyes that ran in our family.

Our mother’s eyes.

“You fucking
asshole
.” Same filthy mouth, too. She came at me like a charging bull, slapping me clean around the face. “You—how
could
you? Not only do you leave us, but you ruin my wedding day, my honeymoon!”

I held up both hands, trying to ward off another slap. “Goddammit, Anna! Let me explain!”

Ethan stood to one side, eyeing me warily. He didn’t intervene over Anna’s anger and, in a distant way, I respected that. Taryn stayed close by him, her arms folded and her features troubled.

“I’ve mourned you for ten years,” Anna yelled, her voice shaky with emotion. “I lost my big brother, my whole world. Do you know what that felt like?”

“I do,” I said honestly. “I lost everything too.”

“Why?” she breathed, the word drawn out with desperation.

I glanced at Taryn and she nodded, gesturing for everyone to sit down. Dread pervaded the entire lounge, the on-edge feeling of a held breath. It felt like my only chance; if I screwed this up, there might not be another. I was lucky to even have one.

And so I explained the whole sordid story from start to finish. We’d always thought our mother’s murder was a robbery gone wrong while she worked late one night at Taryn’s family’s diner, and Anna’s eyes widened in horror as I explained that wasn’t what happened.

“I found out who killed her. I came across Mom’s locket in the man’s house by accident, a trophy he’d kept,” I told her, falling into that cloudy place where the memories were just as alive as they’d ever been. Back in the diner the other day, I’d
smelled
the iron tang of blood, and now I could see my mom’s eyes, open and glassy as she lay dead over the table. “I got him drunk and he admitted it, all of it, from how he pursued her to how she rejected him. He called her names, a whore, a tease, and said she deserved everything she got.”

“Wait,” Anna said, blinking rapidly, her hand clutched in her husband’s. “You found the locket in this guy’s house?”

I tensed. “Yeah.”

“Who—who was it?” she asked, but I could see the gears turning. Her hand broke free of Ethan’s to cover her mouth and Ethan twisted both of his together, obviously figuring it out too.

I looked him square in the eye. “It was your father.”

An eruption happened around the coffee table. Anna stood, staggering away, and Ethan sank his head into his hands, distraught. Taryn was my anchor here, her steady gaze drawing me in, giving me strength.

“Your
father
?” Anna cried at Ethan, tears streaking her face.

“I didn’t know,” Ethan muttered. “I swear I didn’t.”

“You said he was a bad man, you always said…”

“Anna, please.” Taryn stood, stepping close to her and putting both hands on her shoulders. “None of us knew, how could we?”

My sister looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed. “Mason knew.”

“And look what he lost for that.”

I fucking
loved
Taryn. It hit me like a wall falling down, a surge of affection and gratitude and adoration like quickly tumbling bricks. I couldn’t believe her, standing there defending me, supporting me, after everything I’d done to this family.

All I could think was how I didn’t deserve it.

I couldn’t let her be my shield anymore.

“Anna.” I stood, too, and held a hand out towards my sister. “Could you please look at me?”

She turned, trembling from head to toe. I didn’t expect her to take my hand and she didn’t, but she looked at me, seeming ready to listen.

“I killed him,” I told her gravely. “I killed Mr. Foster for what he did to our mother. That’s why I had to fake my own death, why I had to leave.”

Anna simply stared.

Ethan got to his feet, all of us standing now. “You killed my dad?”

“I’m not sorry,” I said roughly.

And, very intently, he told me, “I don’t expect you to be.” All three of us looked at him, shocked. “He deserved it. If you hadn’t done it, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have one day.”

“What?” Anna asked, touching Ethan’s shoulder.

“I told you he was a bad man but that was an understatement.” He took her hand again, his head tipped towards her. “I know he killed people, bullied and extorted and blackmailed his business partners. I walked into the ranch one day while he was… hurting one of the ranch girls, and he got me by the throat and said if I ever blabbed, he’d kill my mother.” Ethan shuddered and I was again struck dumb by what I was hearing. “Every time my mom tried to leave him, he’d just find her and drag her right back. She turned to drink and died because it was the only way she could get away from him.”

“Ethan,” Anna said softly, putting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to tell you but I just hated him so much, I didn’t want to dwell another day on that man.” Ethan turned his attention to me. “So, thank you. You did me and this town a service.”

I shrugged, more than a little baffled at the turn this conversation had taken. “Well, don’t thank me yet.”

Taryn stepped in. “There’s more, Ethan. We should sit back down.”

I could tell by the look on Anna’s face that she wasn’t nearly ready for the next bombshell I was about to drop. And who could blame her? A brother coming back from the dead was enough for one awkward family reunion.

“Lay it on me,” Ethan said, taking a deep breath.

It was Anna I looked to, though. “Sis?”

“Don’t call me that.”

I didn’t recoil but it was a near thing. I perched on the coffee table instead—easier to look at everyone this way, better gauge the situation.

“I had these friends,” I started. “Guys from town that were into some bad shit. They helped me with Mr. Foster. They hid me when I
died
.” Anna laughed humorlessly, making me wince. “They helped me set myself up outside of town, introduced me to some… people. Hired killers. It’s what I started doing, killing for money.”

A silence swallowed up the room, Anna staring with wide eyes, Ethan leaning away from me, Taryn cringing. It would’ve been comical if it weren’t so sad.

“Get out,” Anna said, so suddenly I felt like she’d slapped me again. “Oh my God, just get out, Mason! I can’t—you can’t just come back here and lay something like this on us!”

“Ethan is on a list! A
hit list
!” I yelled over Anna’s rising voice. So much for carefully navigating my one chance. “He’s going to die if we don’t—”

“Holy shit,” Ethan muttered, but I barely heard it above my sister shoving me back with all her strength, like she wanted nothing more than my ass out the door.

Taryn touched her back, attempting to calm her down, but I knew my sister too well, even now. This could very easily become an all-out fight if I didn’t leave, and I’d never raise a hand to my sister so it’d be me getting the beat-down.

“I’ll go,” I said loudly, stepping away from Anna with my hands raised in defense. “But you have to listen to Taryn, okay?” I looked at Taryn. “Make her listen!”

Taryn nodded quickly, dragging Anna into an embrace. I stood, feeling utterly helpless, uneasy with mounting frustration, until I couldn’t look at the destruction anymore.

I turned on my heel and left, slamming Taryn’s front door behind me.

I broke into a quick walk away from the house, hunching inside my jacket against the brightness of the day. It didn’t seem right, somehow, that all of this was happening against the backdrop of such a perfect summer.

It fucking irritated me, and I kicked one of the neighbor’s tall flower beds, feeling petty but just a little satisfied.

What did you expect? A welcome-back hug and some tears?
In my wildest dreams, maybe. I was relying, once again, on Taryn’s understanding to get me through this mess. She was so deep in this, I wasn’t sure how I could do it without her anymore. I couldn’t believe how quickly she’d become so necessary to me.

I needed to see a new face, someone whose morality wasn’t an issue. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my address book and tapping a name.

“Mason?”

“Jay, where you at?”

“Where d’you think?”

I could hear the clatter of a glass in the background and scoffed. “Stay put, I could use a drink.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Jay mocked; I’d get him for that later.

“Fuck you. Just get me a whisky.”

I tucked the phone back in my pocket, walking the dozen or so blocks into town, meeting the curious gaze of passers-by with a threatening glare.

Everyone knew everyone here, and I was a dark-clad stranger to them.

Good
, I thought.
Let’s keep it that way.

“Yo,” Jay greeted me as my eyes adjusted to the dingy bar. “Buddy.”

Unexpectedly, the cheap bastard had gotten me that whiskey. I knocked it back quickly, flagging the barman for another. He gave me an irritated glance, like he was no waiter, and I scowled.

He sure got moving after that.

“What’s crawled up your ass?” Jay asked, eyeing me curiously.

“Work.”

“Ethan Foster.”

“I’ll take the job.”

“Ah.” Jay grinned. “I knew you would. If that asshole was boning my sister—”

“Don’t fucking talk about my sister like that.”

Jay held up his hands. “Whoa, sorry, man. I’m just sayin’, I’d wanna pop him, too.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” I said flatly. “Just tell the boss he’s mine.”

It would buy us time, at any rate. Time for Taryn to explain things to Anna—clean up my mess, more like—and for me to figure out how to hold what was left of my family together.