Page 134 of Himbo Hitman
“Everyone okay for now?” Arlie checks.
“Sure am.” Knowing St. Clare isn’t in actual danger and that apparently I was the only one trying to kill him has given me whiplash, but I can’t lie and say I’m not relieved. Guilty, yes. There’s lots of that. But relief is a close second.
In this entire room, I’m the only one potentially wanted dead, and those odds are a lot better than what I initially thought they were.
“Do you two have masks?” Tommy asks, looking from St. Clare to Lars. “We’ll need to go incognito in case we’re not the only ones searching the area.”
“I have masks,” I answer because I already know St. Clare and Lars don’t. “I’ve got spares. I’ll share mine.”
“Okay. Good to know.” Tommy snaps his laptop closed and stuffs it and the other things he’s brought back into his bag. “Should we meet back here at … nine?”
“Sounds good.” But with them all leaving and everything put off until tonight, there are hours ahead of us where we’ll be sleeping, but also … Ireallymissed St. Clare. And I want to show him how much.
The others leave, and I wave them off before turning to Lars. “You should, uh, possibly do a perimeter check. Hang out any place not here.”
I expect Lars to argue, but he must sense my ulterior motives because he shoves his feet into his boots and heads outside.
St. Clare studies me. “That excited to sleep, are you?”
“Super excited.” I take his hand and tug him after me until we get to the bedroom. “Very, very excited.” I make a show of flopping down onto the tiny bed while St. Clare stays planted in the middle of the room.
“Good to know.” He keeps on standing there, hands tucked in his pockets, gaze taking a slow path down my body. Because I need him to hurry the hell up, I lift the bottom of my shirt, showing off my abs and a glimpse of nipple.
The way his hunger lights up his face makes me feel shivery. I’ve never been looked at the way St. Clare looks at me. The predatory gleam that hits his eyes is something that I didn’t realize could be so hot directed at me. Sure, I’ve probably directed it at other people before because I’m obviously a total predator and—fine, that’s a lie. I think the reason I like it so much is because no one has ever wanted me like he does. Period.
My cock thickens as St. Clare takes a measured step closer. “Pity we’re supposed to be going to sleep right now.”
“Sleep. Right. Answer me this. What’s going to distract you more? Being a widdle bit tired or trying to concentrate with my assright there, knowing you could have been inside it already.”
St. Clare makes a choking noise, head bowing back as he grips the hard outline of his cock. “Why are you doing this?”
I curl my bottom lip over. “I’ve missed you.”
“It’s barely been twenty-four hours.”
“Exactly. Do you know how much we could have made each other come in that time?”
Like he loses all sense of control, St. Clare plants his knee on the mattress beside me, then blankets my body with his. “You’re insatiable.”
He’s not half-wrong. “Well, what’s the point of training my ass if you’re not going to use it?”
“You want me to use you?”
I nod, lust creeping through my system at the prospect of St. Clare fucking me. I’m not sure why the whole idea of it is such a turn-on when I’ve always been fine being the one doing the fucking,but I’m almost obsessive over it. “You have supplies in here?” I ask, dreading the thought of it not happening again.
“I do.” He tugs my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down enough for a short spike of pain. “And a condom.”
“We need a condom?”
“Yes.”
“But …”
He runs his nose up my cheek. “But what?”
“I sort of … I just …”
“Tell me.”
