The Hitman's Baby: A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Novel Read online

  I sigh. I’m too embarrassed to say.

  “Him,” Rachel says with her jaw hanging open. She grabs my chin and thrusts it into the direction of the new target.

  My eyes lock on the man walking through the crowd. He’s a head taller than everyone else and I’m eternally grateful for that so I can see his flawless face. He doesn’t bump into people and get tripped up in the sea of bodies like I would. He swims through it as easily as a shark swimming through a school of fish. People part before him, their conversations ceasing as they turn to stare at his impressive physique.

  The guys look him up and down all wanting what he has. The girls look him up and down all wanting what he has to be thrust inside them.

  His lucky black t-shirt looks spray painted on his thickly sculpted arms and muscular chest. His powerful forearms are covered in tattoos that crawl up under the sleeve of his shirt. He wraps his lips around a rock glass and sips the red liquid inside.

  My eyes follow him, no longer under my control, as he stops on the edge of the dance floor, scanning the swaying bodies before him. The slutty drunk girls shake their asses harder as they catch a glimpse of him watching. He looks like an apex predator standing calmly beside a herd of animals, picking out his next prey.

  I laugh to myself when I imagine what my father would do if I came home with a guy like that. What would he do if I came home with any guy?

  “Looks like we found a winner,” Greg says with a chuckle. It breaks me out of my trance. I swallow hard and shake my head, trying unsuccessfully to clear it.

  “If you don’t take him, then I will,” Rachel says, still staring.

  His back is turned to us. I get a glimpse of his nice ass in his fitted jeans and shift in my seat.

  “Hey!” Greg says, swatting Rachel’s arm playfully. “I’m sitting right here.”

  I turn back to my beer trying to ignore the pull that his body is having on my eyes. “I want someone who does something more productive than hanging out in a gym all day.”

  “You’re crazy,” Rachel says, looking at me with a confused look on her face.

  “We’ll find you somebody,” Greg says, looking eager to take the attention off the Adonis that his girlfriend is drooling at. “What about Mr. Hipster?” he says pointing to a guy in a group near the bathroom. He has a trimmed beard and perfectly styled hair, combed to the side. I shake my head at the scarf wrapped around his neck.

  My eyes, under my body’s control, dart back to the dance floor. My stomach clenches in disappointment when he’s no longer there.

  “Incoming,” Rachel whispers as she kicks my foot under the table. I look back as a drunk Dave bumps into our table spilling the shots that he’s holding in his hands.

  “Did someone order shots?” he asks in a mess of bad breath and slurred words. He places the two half empty shot glasses on the table and licks the alcohol off his hands while Rachel throws a napkin on the pool of whiskey on our table.

  Crap. Now I have to deal with this guy.

  “No dude,” Greg says. “Nobody ordered shots.”

  Dave squeals a laugh as if it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. He slides a shot glass in front of me. “It’s for you.”

  “Alright,” I say as my body gets tight and rigid. I don’t really want it but it’s only half full anyway.

  Dave grips the table for support and picks up the shot with his shaking hand. His body is swaying from side to side and it looks like the table is the only thing keeping him from falling onto the floor.

  “Cheers,” he says, slamming the shot glass into mine a little too hard.

  I drink it down and grimace.

  He slams his empty shot glass onto the table and it falls over, rolling to the side. Rachel catches it as it tumbles off the table.

  I lean back as he leans in. His eyes are bloodshot and his mouth smells like roadkill. “Can I talk to you?” he asks in a husky voice.

  My stomach turns. I hate drunk people. “Um okay,” I say, reluctantly getting up.

  He steadies himself and takes a step towards the dance floor. I glance at Rachel and Greg and shrug.

  “Good luck,” Rachel mouths. Greg just laughs.

  I follow the drunken Dave as he manages to bump into every person that he passes. He leaves a trail of annoyed looks and spilled drinks behind him.

  He heads to the wall beside the dance floor, turns and collapses onto it, using it to hold up his weight. I catch a glimpse of the tattooed God, standing nearby looking me up and down.

  We make eye contact and I suddenly have a strong awareness of my own heartbeat. Probably because it’s pumping like I just sprinted a marathon.

  His brown eyes are electric and cause every tiny hair on the back of my neck to rise in full alert. He raises his chin and smiles, and I have to look away. He’s too hot and he’s way too intimidating.

  “You’re so hot,” Dave says with his shoulder and head leaning against the wall.

  I’m too distracted to answer. I can feel the mysterious stranger’s presence moving towards me. I wipe my moist hands on my jeans.

  “I’m in love with you,” Dave says.

  I’m not paying attention to him so I fail to dodge out of the way when he leans in for a kiss. He’s way too drunk and lands his wet, slopping tongue on my cheek. It feels like a squirming fish on my skin and I shudder, yanking my head back. “Ew,” I say to myself as I wipe the unwanted saliva off my cheek with the sleeve of my shirt.

  “Do you love me too?” Dave asks with glazed over eyes. How much did he drink?

  This is the conversation that I’ve been dreading. He’s a nice guy when he’s sober so I don’t want to be too hard on his feelings.

  “You’re drunk,” I say, backing away. “I’m going to go back to my friends.”

  The hot guy is close by watching with an amused look on his gorgeous face. A flash of annoyance strikes me. He looks so cocky. So full of himself.

  I flash him a dirty look.

  Dave steps towards me. He’s relentless and is not taking any hints.

  “I want to date you,” he says.

  I say the first excuse that comes to mind. “I have a boyfriend.”

  He recoils as if he was just shot in the belly. “Who?” he asks.

  “Me,” the hot guy says stepping in out of nowhere like a knight in shining Armani. He grabs my wrist and pulls me up to his hard body. “Hi babe,” he says giving me a soft kiss on the lips.

  He pulls away leaving my head swimming. I grab his hard forearm to keep myself from landing on the sticky floor.

  “That’s your boyfriend?” Dave asks, looking crushed as the man pulls me away into the gyrating crowd. I’m ready to go anywhere with him as long as he’s holding me like this.

  “Mmmhmm,” I say licking his taste from my lips. The heat from his body penetrates me and makes my skin flush red. His grip on my wrist is firm. He grins as he looks down my shirt. I can tell he’s used to getting what he wants. I can tell this because I’m about to give him whatever he wants.

  He leans down and I get a whiff of his rugged, masculine scent. “Come, babe,” he says in my ear with a scratchy voice. “Let’s go dance.”

  I look up into his dark brown eyes and all I can do is nod.

  He lets go of my wrist and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I glance over my shoulder at Dave as my new friend is pulling me into the swell of sweaty bodies. I mouth a ‘sorry,’ to him. He looks so sad and broken. I didn’t want him to get hurt but I needed to get out of that situation before he tried something else, like licking my forehead.

  The dance floor is packed with perky tits, spilled beer and grabby hands; the staple of any college party dance floor.

  My new friend raises his elbows and carves out a spot for us in the crowd. Hot bodies enclose around us and my body is pushed into his. His hand slides up my ribcage, the inside of his forearm grazing the side of my breast. My nipples harden immediately under my bra. I glance down at his inked
skin and see a skull looking back at me. My fingers trace the tattoo as his hands slide forward, cupping the side of my breasts.

  I catch myself, jerking out of the trance that he has me in. I wrap my fingers around his forearm and squeeze, digging my nails into his skin. I yank his hands down and they fall back down to my waist.

  Who the fuck is this guy? And why the fuck does he think he can put his hands all over me?

  It was like he had my body hypnotized but I’m fully awake now. I hate guys like him, I have to remind myself.

  I glance back at Dave as he walks away with his defeated head hanging down. That probably ruined our friendship, whatever awkward part of it was left.

  And it’s all this guy’s fault.

  “I was going to let him off easily,” I say, suddenly angry at his bold cockiness.

  “Fuck that guy,” he says with a derisive chuckle. “He’s got to get used to failure.”

  I grab the back of his strong hands and yank them off me. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “He’s a weak bitch,” he says. “And he’s going to get eaten alive in the real world. You and I both know that.”

  He’s right but I’m not about to admit it.

  I clench my jaw as my chest tightens. I’m pissed off. It’s not so much what he did or said, I’m angry at the fact that I’m reacting in such a strong way to such a cocky asshole. I hate that my body is attracted to guys like him.

  Because my mind hates guys like him.

  Dave is sitting on a barstool with his shoulders slumped over, sobbing into his beer. He will get eaten alive in the real world. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t let this bastard win.

  “No, he won’t,” I say, trying to ignore his sexy smile. His perfect white teeth show through his delicious lips, mocking me. “He’s a gentleman.”

  “He looked like a perfect gentleman the way he was groping you and licking your cheek,” he says with an I-just-fucking-won grin pasted on his face.

  My lips pinch shut as my body goes rigid. I want to slap that cockiness off his face but ladies don’t hit. They backstab, manipulate and can ruin your life, but they don’t hit.

  “I’m going to get back to my friends,” I say glancing over my shoulder at Rachel and Greg. Rachel gives me a thumbs up while Greg gives me a slow clap.

  “It looks like your friends want you to stay here,” he says with a triumphant grin on his face.

  Fucking traitors.

  He gently touches my wrists and pulls me back towards him. My body moves forward despite the fact that I hate this guy.

  The angry thoughts fade away when I catch a whiff of his smooth, masculine scent. He smells like money and sex.

  My breath freezes in my chest as he leans in and gently kisses my neck on the sensitive skin just under my ear. My body erupts in warm shivers and I exhale, my body relaxing and falling closer to his.

  He places his lips to my ear and my pussy clenches when I feel his breath on my skin. “I’m only here for the night,” he whispers.

  “One day exchange student from Asshole University?” I ask, still not making an effort to move.

  “Something like that,” he says, with a raspy voice. He steps in closer, sliding his big hands over my lower back and jerking me into him. I gasp as my breasts press into his muscular chest. My nipples are painfully hard.

  “Sorry but you’re not my type,” I lie as I wrap my arm around his shoulder and lightly rake my nails up the back of his neck.

  He grins. “The ones who say that are the ones who suck my dick the hardest when they inevitably drop to their knees.”

  I can believe that.

  “Wow,” I say, pulling back to look in his face, but not too far that I have to stop touching him. “You really know how to talk to a lady.”

  He bites his bottom lip as he looks down at me with heat in his eyes. “I know how to talk to a girl to get her on her knees with my cock in her mouth.” He looks down at my lips. “Or in your mouth I should say.”

  I can’t believe he just said that. I stare at him with my jaw hanging open.

  He cups my chin and lowers my jaw even more, opening my mouth with his thumb. “A little bigger my love,” he says. “You’ll have to open up wide if I’m going to fit in there.”

  I can see how that would work on most women. I’m already picturing his cock sliding between my lips. I can tell that this man takes what he wants and that is sexy as all hell.

  No one has ever been so direct with me and I find it shocking. And arousing at the same time.

  But I can’t give into that arrogance. No matter how much I want to.

  His warm hands drop off me as I step backward. I suddenly feel cold and alone. I resist every urge in my body to step back towards him and let his hands warm up my skin; to let his dirty words warm up the area between my legs.

  I know what is going to happen if I give in. I’ll lose all control of myself around him and I’ll be his slave until he kicks me out onto the sidewalk as soon as a hotter girl walks by. It won’t be just one night with me. I’ll get attached. And I promised myself that I’ll never get attached to a bad boy asshole again.

  “Have a good night,” I say, turning away. I can feel my panties sticking to my wetness.

  “I’m here when you change your mind,” he says as if he knows that my return is inevitable.

  I shake my head and walk back to the table. I’m stronger than the desire flowing through my veins that’s making my heart pound in my chest and my panties wet.

  I hope.

  Rachel looks like I just suffocated her new kitten. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she asks, outraged.

  I slip into my seat and take a sip of my beer. It washes his taste off my lips for good and I’m secretly disappointed.

  “Why are you not over there grinding against his hard cock?” Rachel asks, still unable to close her appalled mouth.

  I exhale and peel back the corner of the wet coaster under my drink. “Not interested in assholes.”

  “Who cares when they look like that?” Rachel asks. “You only have two years of college left. The window to have one night stands with hot, muscular guys is closing every day. Take advantage of it. Live the real college experience. Have you had sex one time since you’ve been here?”

  I rip off the corner of the coaster and roll it into a ball between my finger and thumb. She knows that I haven’t.

  Rachel exhales in frustration. “You owe it to yourself to experience college properly and bang a ton of guys.”

  “Wait a minute,” Greg says, turning to his girlfriend. “Have you ‘experienced college properly’?” he asks using air quotes.

  “No,” Rachel says, smiling her best smile at him. “Just you baby.” She kisses him on his lips and he turns back to his beer with a relieved look on his face. Rachel looks at me and grimaces. Guilty bitch.

  “Looks like some other lucky lady is going to get the real college experience,” Greg says motioning to the dance floor with his head.

  I look over my shoulder and a heaviness sets into my body. I smile bitterly as a drunk blond girl with her shirt tied into a knot over her flat stomach grinds on the mysterious stranger. The strong hands that were heating my body are now groping her ass as she shakes her chest to the shitty music.

  I grit my teeth, feeling envious. Maybe Rachel is right. Maybe this is what college is all about. Will I be looking back at this moment when I’m married twenty years from now, and having sex with the same overweight accountant every night, and regret not taking advantage of the opportunity that presented itself? Will I be wishing that I took him up on his invitation every time my husband lazily sticks it in me while the evening news plays in the background?

  I can handle him. I’m a woman now. I only became obsessed last time because I was a teenager. This time, I can handle my shit.

  I wave over the big tittied shot girl who is walking around dressed as a sexy referee with a whistle in her mouth. She blows on the whistle as she
squirms through the crowd and holds out her tray full of fluorescent blue shots. I hand one to Rachel, one to Greg and place four in front of me.

  She nods as I toss a few bills onto her tray and she blows her whistle as she struts away to a group of guys.

  I down two shots back to back and wipe the alcohol from my lips as I look over my shoulder at my target. He’s still on the dance floor with the girl wrapped around him. She’s using him as a stripper pole. She’s trashy and too drunk. Like sloppy, sleeping with your arms wrapped around a toilet, drunk.

  She’s no competition. I can tell by the way he keeps glancing back at me. He wants me.

  I down another shot. And I want him.

  “Bottoms up,” I whisper to myself as I down the last shot and slam it on the table.

  It’s time to live the real college experience.

  five

  Colton

  I’m feeling up my consolation prize when she comes storming back on the dance floor with fire in her eyes. Her gorgeous skin is a heated red and her expression means business.

  I push the drunk blond off me and she stumbles into the crowd of dancers. She lands on another guy and she immediately starts grinding on him without missing a beat of this horrible song.

  She would’ve been just fine but this girl returning to me with her hands clenched into fists is going to be spectacular. Her body is ripe, her mouth fierce and she seems to hate me. I love a challenge.

  Nobody fucks harder than a girl that hates you. It’s a ferocious, angry fuck that is so primal. And so hot.

  She’s back, which means I’ve already won. Time to turn up the heat.

  “I told you you’d be back,” I say with a smirk.

  She storms right up to me and I wince, unsure if she’s about to punch me in the face. She certainly looks like it.

  “Shut up,” she says as she comes in close, steps on her toes and kisses me on the lips. I slide my hands over her lower back and pull her into me as I return her kiss. Her eager berry flavored tongue wrestles with mine and I get an excited shiver as I think what that silky tongue will feel like sliding up and down my hard shaft.