Page 34 of Altered By Fire (Undercover Sinners 1)
Quietly, I climb into the backseat of the car and wait for the two men to join me.
The song that plays on the way back to the church … is Bodies by Drowning Pool.
How appropriate.Chapter 10ARSENThere's something so infuriating about having Konstantin Petrov's daughter in the same building as me. It's like a slap in the face. Nobody seems to care that I'm here for one reason and one reason alone: to kill that son of a bitch.
The money is nice, of course, but I don't really give two shits about 'nice things'. Mostly, I'm happy with a bottle of Jack, some cigarettes, and chocolate. Oh yes, I'm a huge fan of chocolate. If my body didn't demand sex, I'd probably be just fine without that, too. It feels good, but it involves being around other people. Frankly, I'd rather masturbate.
"You sure this girl isn’t feeding information to her father?" I ask, and Hawke slams his mug on the counter. He hates talking to me, but I love bothering him, so he best get the fuck over it. "Just seems weird that Weston and Princess Petrova would just happen to be jumped the first and only night that West's ever left the church by himself like that."
"The Petrov Syndicate knows where they last saw Natalia, knows that she left on foot, and knows that we're in the area looking for them. It's not much of a stretch to think somebody caught sight of either her or Weston while they were driving and followed them."
I clench my teeth. Sometimes, I wonder how good it would feel to drive a blade through the back of Hawke's neck and watch the pointed end stick out of his throat. He's so rational most of the time, it makes me feel even more insane, the business of my mind spiraling out and around me until it feels like I'm strangling myself.
But I know from Portia that there's more to Hawke than he shows the world.
In the bedroom, he's as dark in the heart and soul and cock as I am.
"I don't like living in the same dwelling as that bitch," I say, even though my cock stirs at the thought of her. Fucking that girl did not free me from my sudden and inescapable fascination with her; it only made things worse. "If you'll recall, it was her father that killed Portia—"
"If you don't shut your goddamn fucking trap …" Hawke starts, whirling around and sloshing coffee all over the floor.
"Do you two always fight?" a low, husky voice asks from behind me. I don't turn around to look at Natalia. Why bother? If I do, all I'll be able to think about are her bare breasts, bruised and bleeding, that gun clutched in her hands, the way her caramel brown eyes darkened as she took aim at that sack of shit I stabbed.
"We have a love-hate relationship," I lie, shrugging loosely and stretching my arms above my head. "Mostly it's skewed toward hate, but don't tell Hawke that." The leader of our little mercenary troupe gives me a look, but I ignore him. Slowly, carefully, I steel myself to see that woman dressed in oversized robes or sweats or …
But when I turn and see her wearing one of the old-fashioned nun's habits from the dusty upstairs attic, my cock springs to life. I'm wearing loose acid wash jeans today and nothing else, so it's pretty obvious that I'm turned-on. Natalia notices right away and swallows hard, flicking her eyes to my face.
Does she see how much I despise her? I rightfully should've killed her in the bathroom that first day.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I give her a once-over, her brunette hair tucked back under a black and white hood. I'd love to curl my fingers in that fabric and shove her to her knees, get her to suck my cock in the confessional the way she did for Colt.
"Natalia," Hawke says in a strangled sounding voice. It makes me laugh, seeing him so affected by this piece of tits and ass, just like the rest of us. Not even Portia managed to get him to show emotion around the team. "Why are you dressed in that? Didn't Mace buy you some clothes to wear?"
The woman in front of me simply shrugs and runs her tongue over her lower lip. Does she mean it to be suggestive? All I can think about is ramming my dick down her throat now.
"He did, but they don't fit well. Besides, you all get to play dress up as priests. Why can't I play, too?" She arches a brow at Hawke, tilting her chin up defiantly and showing off the creamy pale skin of her neck.
I picture my hands wrapped around it. My fingertips digging in deep, deep enough to bruise as I cut off her air. The mental image is so strong I can hear my breathing speed up, my cock so hard in my pants it's like I'm going to burst my zipper.
