DamilolaJabita

He was never supposed to live. She was never supposed to feel.

Mia was a ghost in the dark trained to kill and follow orders without questions. She had one mission; make Damon Walker, the secret son of Alan River--a mafia drug lord who ruled over the West-- die a slow and agonizing death. But the deeper she got, the harder it was to pull the trigger. He wasn't supposed to matter, but he did. 

Mia's emotions are compromised, her orders personal and someone else wants Damon dead before she can finish the job. Will she protect the man she was meant to kill? Or will they end up being burned for their love?

***
“Like what you see?" his gaze met mine, his lips curling into a smirk. 
My gaze lingered there; soft, wet, warm. Exactly what I needed. 

"Ivy?" 

Those veiny hands. I remember its feel on my throbbing lips, the way they grabbed my hair and pulled. A moan escaped from my lips. 

"Ivy!" 

His voice jolted me out of my sexually frustrated thoughts, and I stared at him. "Yeah?" 

"What were you thinking about?" he stood up. 

Those thick thighs. I could just imagine them pinning me down, never letting me go. 

"Nothing." 

He walked towards me slowly. "I recognize that look. 

I cleared my throat quickly. "What look?" 

He leaned down and met my eyes. His scent sent my body into an overdrive. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. He reminded me of the warm brook I had seen during a vacation. Earthly. Delicate. Natural. I opened my eyes to see him so close to me, I felt his warm breath on my face. 

"The one that tells me you want me just as much as I want you." 

Oh, I wanted him so badly, more than I needed to breathe. His hand cupped my face gently, waiting for me to make the next move. He knew what he wanted, he just needed me to show I wanted it as much as he did. We brushed the kiss in the garage under the rug; I wanted to deny it never happened and he went along with it. There was no way I was going to sleep with the man whose father killed Wes. My target. There was... no way. 

His breath fanned my lips as he moved closer—slowly, giving me the option to stop the kiss if I wanted. I knew I should stop. I knew it wasn't going to end well. I knew I should turn back before I dug a hole I couldn't escape from. I knew it wasn't right, but I didn't want to stop. I wanted the kiss as much as he did, if not more. I wanted him buried deeply inside me, he wouldn't be able to find his way out. I wanted all of him.  

"Ivy," his voice sent chills down my back. 

It told me all I needed to; that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him. 

"Damon." Kiss me.  

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN