Page 35 of Altered By Fire (Undercover Sinners 1)
"Arsen," Hawke snaps, and I notice both he and this … temptress are watching me intensely. "Give us a few minutes alone."
Regaining a little of my composure—or rather, as much composure as I ever have given how crazy I am—I turn to leer at my leader. "Why? So you can bend her over and fuck her tight little cunt right here on the kitchen table? Bad luck, Donald Duck. Been there and done that. This morning, to be precise."
My words strike the chord I'm looking for and Hawke's nostrils flare with anger. Shit, pissing him off is almost as good as spilling my seed inside little Miss Petrova was. Seeing her run from me afterwards was a turn-on all by itself, and I had to force myself not to chase her.
"Arsen," Hawke says with careful precision, and I know he's on the edge of snapping. "Get. Out. You have your assignment for the day, now go and do it."
He means the shitty surveillance task he's assigned to me. It’s a crock of shit, and so clearly aimed at keeping me away from Miss Petrova. Futile, really. She's piqued my interest, and I sincerely doubt I'll be done with her until one of us is dead.
"As you wish, oh mighty commander Hawke." I tip my imaginary hat at him, then run my eyes over the sexy-as-sin nun’s habit concealing Natalia's body. I wonder if she's naked under all that cloth. We’ll have to find out later, when Hawke the killjoy isn't around to ruin things.
"I'll be seeing you around, Miss Petrova." I wink at her, not bothering to hide the mix of hatred and lust I'm feeling. I want to kill her just as badly as I want to fuck her. It's quite the conundrum.
She meets my eyes boldly, and I recognize the look in hers. This girl has a death wish, there's no doubt about it. Perhaps we can come to an agreement that we’ll both find satisfactory …
Images of sex and death skitter across my mind as I saunter out of the kitchen, leaving that little minx in Hawke's care while I head out to the cars. Asshole that I am, I snake the keys to Weston's Challenger on my way out. That poisonous girl has me hard as a damn rock and surveillance is a long and boring job. May as well rub one out inside Weston's car and kill two birds with one stone.
Chuckling to myself, I slide into the driver's seat and slam the door shut. I don't bother with a seat belt, because fuck knows it'll take more than a car crash to take me out of the game. Instead, I flick open the fly of my jeans and bare my naked dick while gunning the engine.
Fuck waiting until I get to my assigned location. I can multitask like a pro. I'll sort myself out while I drive.
Tires squealing, I peel out of the parking garage and into the street, merging with traffic seamlessly. Of course, the cunts on the road freak out thinking I'm going to cause an accident and start laying on their horns. Pussies. I’m nowhere near hitting them.
I weave Weston's car between traffic one-handed. My other hand is wrapped firmly around my shaft, pumping up and down as I picture Natalia's mouth on me just like I'd seen her do in the confessional booth. Fucking Colt, that lucky son of a bitch. I've never been so glad to have my quiet time interrupted before.
Just as I'm about to come, I slam on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the truck stopped in front of me. I've pulled up just inches from his tail, and I come hard all over Weston's steering wheel.
Hot, sticky white semen drips down the hand-stitched leather, and I know he's never getting it out. Not truly. It makes me laugh. Serves him damn right for getting shot in the first place.
Grabbing the discarded priest robe off his passenger seat, I clean up my dick then tuck it away as traffic begins to move again and my phone rings.
"Arsen," Mace's voice sounds when I answer, but I don't say anything. Why bother? They called me. They know who I am. "We're almost out of iodine and gauze. Can you pick some up on your way back?"
I snort a laugh. "That fuckwit still refusing to see the new doc, eh?"
Mace sighs down the phone. "Yeah. Not that I can blame him. Portia was …"
He trails off with a wussy noise, and I roll my eyes. Portia was technically a psych nurse, but also became our team’s unofficial doctor. Can't just go rocking up to the hospital with gunshot wounds, now can you?
"Yeah, whatever. I'll be back after dark." I don't bother waiting for another response before ending the call.
Bunch of fucking pathetic assholes, my team is. Every last one of them, still moping around about a chick that's been dead over a year. Not me, though. I never loved her. Not like they all claimed to. Then again, maybe that's because I'm incapable of love? Portia certainly thought so. Never stopped her fucking me like her life depended on it though … and sometimes it did.
