He flicks on the bedside lamp, and the fluorescent glow feels like shards of glass trying to blind me.

  “Ugh.” I shield my eyes. This fucking sucks.

  Declan secures my chin in his hand and moves my face around, inspecting it thoroughly. I do the same to him, counting all the small slashes in his face from the shrapnel of the blast.

  “You don’t look too bad, considering,” he comments.

  “Considering you tried to blow us up?”

  “Considering you went flying like an under-stuffed rag doll.”

  “Is that your nice way of calling me skinny?”

  “No, not really. It’s my way of calling you wimpy.”

  “I’m not wimpy.” I smack his hand away.

  Declan smiles, and I feel the sentiment deep in my gut. Shit.

  I cannot be attracted to this guy. It’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. I’m dangerous. The whole situation is all-around dangerous.

  “No, you’re definitely not wimpy.” He changes his tune. “You took on those guys like it was nothing. Picking them off like apples dangling from a tree.” He walks into the bathroom as he talks and returns with a wet washcloth. “You’re not a half-bad shot.”

  “Are you actually giving me a compliment?” I could die of shock.

  “Imagine that.” He places the washcloth on my arm where the bullet grazed me.

  I inhale through clenched teeth. That’s fucking smarts. “You saved my Irish ass. It’s the least I could do.”

  “You’re so considerate.” My sarcasm isn’t lost on either of us.

  “I try.” He stands straight up and rests his hands on his hips.

  I try not to let the holy-hot Irishman fluster me, but damn, he affects me in ways I haven’t felt in years. In ways I didn’t think I was capable of feeling ever again.

  I need to pull my shit together and not lose my head. I can’t let my hormones rule.

  “Did you get the cash?” I change the subject, if only for myself.

  “I did. A shit load of it. Thank God. I don’t know how Ronan would react if he found out it was blown to smithereens.”

  “I can tell you from experience, not good.”

  “No, I suppose not,” he agrees. It seems a near-death experience has drastically adjusted his bad attitude. “Stay put. I’m going to get you some ice to put on your head. That’s a nasty gash. It’s going to bruise.”

  “It’s not my first war wound,” I assure him, touching the tender spot above my eyebrow. “Looks like you’re going to have a couple black and blues yourself.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” He rubs his jaw, which I assume is sore.

  Declan grabs the ice bucket and heads for the door. Before he leaves, I call out to him, “Hey.” He turns to look at me. “Thanks for pulling me out of there.” I’m wholeheartedly earnest. Which is a rare sentiment coming from a contract killer.

  He nods with a knowing smirk. “I told ya, I owed you.”

  “Consider us even.”

  “I already did,” he states presumptuously just before he leaves the room.

  I roll my eyes and lie back on the bed. How do I find myself in these fucked-up situations?

  The glow of the bathroom light comes off like a calling card. The idea of a hot shower is suddenly more than appealing. It’s essential. There’s so much blood and dust and grime caked on me I just want to purify my skin. Cleanse the entire day away. It’s been a hell of a long one.

  I slide off the bed and begin to undress. Losing my clothes right in the middle of the room, I also abandon my dark wig on the back of the desk chair. I feel like myself again. Purged of another false identity.

  Turning the shower head on, I watch the water quickly heat until it’s steaming, then I step underneath the spray and let it scald my skin, with the small, menial, but irrational hope it absolves me of all my sins.

  Declan

  I find Fallon missing from the bed and the shower running when I return to the room.

  Her clothes are strewn on the floor, and a dark wig is hanging lifelessly on the desk chair. I run my fingers through the soft strands, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I’ll admit, I was pissed when Ronan told me he was sending her. Pissed that he wouldn’t come himself.

  Pissed that he sent me away on this bullshit job to begin with.

  But shit could be worse. I could be dead, and not all alone with a naked, beautiful, lethal woman.

  I don’t know which one turns me on the most?

  She took my breath away the moment I saw her. But I couldn’t let her know that. It takes more than a pretty face to derail a man like me. But then she spoke, and then she fought. And she gained my respect the same way she gained Ronan’s obsession. She slipped under our skin without even trying, without us even knowing until it was too late. That’s the mark of a true professional. The spark of an addiction.

  He would slit my throat if he knew how close I am to her naked body. That only a thin wall separates us.

  The idea tickles me as well.

  I’d have to be suicidal to walk into that bathroom unannounced, but near-death experiences make a man feel invincible. Make him believe he’s capable of anything. Like seducing a woman who’s as deadly as he is. Or putting his life on the line because his boss made it clear that no one touches her but him.

  I’ve never been good with restrictions, or rules, for that matter, so I don’t really give a fuck what Ronan says.

  What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And I’m itching to do something death-defying. Itching to light the adrenaline trapped in my veins on fire.

  And I know Fallon is just the woman to strike the match.

  Still holding the ice bucket, I stride into the steamy bathroom like a man with nothing to lose, and my heart pounding strong and steadily like a battle drum.

  Only her curvy silhouette is visible through the foggy glass door, but it’s enough to turn me on past the point of no return.

  Placing the ice bucket in the sink, I run on pure instinct now. On pure want and pure need. On pure, unadulterated desire.

  Sliding the glass open, I lean against the shower’s metal frame as all the steam escapes into the room beyond.

  “I should have known you were a Gaelic Storm.” I cross my arms, thoroughly admiring the view.

  “A what?” Fallon gazes up at me unfazed, stark naked under the running water. It cascades down her face and body like an angry stream, making her look as fierce and seductive outside as I know she is inside.

  “A poppy,” I clarify. “A ginger. A redhead.”

  “I prefer the term copperhead.” She runs her fingers through her long strands, as if enticing me. As if she knows just how much I want her and is dangling the prospect to fuck right in front of my face.

  “You would,” I snicker. Her hair color is almost the exact shade of a shiny copper penny, and her bite is definitely as lethal as a poisonous snake.

  Am I a masochist for wanting to know just how deep she can sink her teeth into me?

  “What are you doing in here?” she entertains me.

  “Bringing you ice.” I nod to the bucket in the sink.

  “It’s not going to do me much good all the way over there.” Her big, bright-green eyes meet mine, and there’s a moment. A silent moment of understanding. A moment where no words need to be spoken to communicate what we both want.

  There are no lines or boundaries. No barrier keeping us apart.

  Just pure lust driving us. Commanding us. Decompressing us from the strain of this hazardous existence.

  Fallon watches as I shed my clothes. Her chest rising and falling more rapidly as I pull my dirty T-shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor. My pants immediately following.

  I grab a handful of ice before I step inside the shower with her. It melts quickly in my palm, but not before I slide it over the wound on her arm, across the hot skin of her chest, and down her flat torso, evaporating right as I reach the sweet spot between her thighs.

  I don’t stop even though the ice is gone. My fingers are still chilly, and my want still rebelliously clamorous.

  Fallon emits a moan and shivers when the cold pads of my fingertips graze the hot flesh of her clit. The feel of her disintegrates me. I crumble from the crushing weight of how much I need her. Need this release. Need a no-strings attached, straight-up fuck.

  Need pure physicality and blinding escape.

  Blackout lust.

  In a dominant move, I pin Fallon against the wall and swallow her mouth, kissing her furiously.

  Her body is strong and fit, but her power is nothing compared to mine. I could snap her like a twig if I wanted, and I like to remind her of that. To remind her that although she’s formidable in her own right, I’m in control.

  Snaking my fingers into her hair, I grip the strands tightly and tug, tilting her face up toward mine.

  A fury of sexual excitement flows between us as our tongues duel and bodies undulate, and my fingers penetrate her in a commanding way.

  She rides my hand, clawing at my skin as her pussy contracts, the sweetest tightness tempting my control. I work her over, leading her toward the edge. She follows me willingly, like the Pied Piper hypnotizing her with song.

  Her breathing quickens as my fingers become saturated with her syrupy arousal.

  “God, fuck.” Fallon demands more. Demands everything. Demands her release, but I’m not going to give it to her. I’m going to decide when, and where, and how. “Make me come.”

  “No,” I breathe hotly against her mouth.

  “Yes, now.” She sinks her fingertips into my skin and orders. The bite of her nails only turns me on harder. The roughness of her touch, the command of her want. It is a rare, rare woman who can match my intensity.

  “I’ll decide.” My growl vibrates all through my tense muscles until it finally settles in my ribcage.

  “The fuck you will.” Fallon releases one of her hands from their stake in my shoulders and snakes it between our bodies. She begins to rub her clit while my fingers are still inside her. It’s so fucking hot, I allow her to pleasure herself just until she reaches the brink. Until she’s moaning like a lioness and the walls of her womb are as tight as a trap.

  “Yes, the fuck I will.” I withdraw my fingers and pin her wrists against the wall of the shower. Fallon glowers up at me, her chest heaving, her cheeks inflamed. I smile down at her, enjoying the control I can wield.

  “You’re a cock tease,” she accuses.

  “Now there’s a first.” I chuckle. “I’ve been called a fuck of a lot of things in my life, but I don’t think that’s ever been one of them.”

  “I just call ’em like a see ’em.”

  I glance down at my straining erection. “What d’ya call that, then?”

  “A damn good time given you know how to use that thing.” Her smirk is nefarious.

  A smile spreads widely across my face. “Oh, I know how to use it. And you’ll figure that out real quick.”

  “The suspense is killing me.”

  I lean into her, tickling my lips against her ear. “That’s the correct phrase, Flannery. ’Cause you’re gonna die ten-thousand tiny deaths by the time I’m done with you,” I promise darkly.

  “I fucking hope so.” Fallon turns her head and catches my mouth with hers. We kiss like our connection sets the world on fire. Sizzling, suffocating, and all-fucking consuming.

  Fallon all but climbs up my body as the heat index soars past one thousand. She pulls my hair and bites my lip as she spreads her legs, compelling my entrance.

  There’s no denying her now. There’s no denying anything as I lose my mind while sinking forcefully inside her. A rush of hot breaths and tense moans escape from both of us. An under-song of ecstasy hypnotizing our minds and bodies and, dare I even say it, souls.

  We fuck hard and fast and with a ferocity of a pack of wild animals. I haven’t let loose with a woman in so long. It’s been years since I tapped into my primal, sexual appetite. Since I cleared my mind and lost myself in nothing but a warm body and wet pussy.

  I forgot what carefree feels like ever since the weight of the world has been placed upon my back. And right now, at this moment, I’m free. I’m flying, and running, and diving into a black abyss of pleasure and not a fucking person dead or alive can stop me.

  “God!” Fallon’s ear-piercing shriek and convulsing body rips me back into reality as she explodes, coming spectacularly. Keeping her pressed firmly against the wall, I squeeze her ass cheeks and thrust violently until there is nothing left inside me but a pounding ache that tears me apart piece by tiny piece.

  I spiral down the same dark, wondrous void as Fallon and don’t emerge until there is nothing left of either of us. Until we are both destroyed by a glorious release that could rival a cyclonic storm.

  Fallon clutches my face when I finally lift it from the crook of her neck. I left a mark. A bite mark the size of a mako shark’s. Her gaze is far off and distant. Remnants of the sexual high. She kisses me deeply and passionately, without a worry in the world. Drugged on me and the euphoria I made her feel.

  A desire from deep, deep inside me uproots. I want more. I want her again. I want her over and over and over until we both OD on ecstasy.

  Keeping her wrapped around me, I flick off the water and walk us out of the shower. Once back in the room, I drop Fallon onto the bed, dripping wet. Her copper hair is clinging to her pink cheeks, and the expression on her face is fierce. She wants more. Just like me. And I’m going to give it to her. All fucking night.

  “Turn over,” I order, my voice low and gravelly. Scratchy with need and ravenous with lust.

  She doesn’t move immediately. No, a woman like her wouldn’t. She tests you. Communicates she’ll temporarily relinquish control, but painfully reminds you you’ll never, ever be fully in charge.

  I'm cool with that, though. I love a good challenge.

  I catch her ankle and drag her to me. She pushes herself up in protest, and I snatch her face. “I fucking said turn over.”

  Defiance flashes in her green eyes, but excitement does, too.

  With a challenging smirk, she seductively rolls onto her stomach, exposing her bare, perfectly sculpted ass to me.

  “Mmm.” I bite my lip as I palm her juicy ass cheeks. It does not get any better than this. My cock is rock-solid again, throbbing to be inside her.

  Grabbing her hips, I jerk her back so she is firmly planted on all fours. “This fucking body is all mine tonight.”

  Fallon peeks over her shoulder. That same fierce look still presiding in her bright-green eyes.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Yes, we will.” I rub my erection along the crack of her ass.

  “Then less talking and more doing.” She rocks back, tempting me.

  The devil inside me emerges. What would Ronan think if he knew I had the one woman who won’t give him the time of day like this? That she’s mine for the taking? It would drive him fucking mad. Homicidal, because he wants Fallon more than anything. Borderline obsesses over it. And all I had to do was look at her and she became mine. The bloated satisfaction elicits the most devious kind of excitement.

  Lining the head of my hard-on up to Fallon’s slick entrance, I slide inside seamlessly like a sharp blade across glassy ice.

  A long, drawn-out moan escapes from her as I grip her firmly in place, my cock buried in her deepest, warmest depth, throbbing with the force of a hammering heart.

  It’s a carnal fucking oblivion.

  “Jesus, move.” She tries to rock, but I subdue her. This is my dog-and-pony show, and I’ll run it how I see fit.

  Leaning forward, resting one of my hands next to hers, I hiss in her ear, “Think you can handle it?”

  She glares at me out of the corner of her eye. “Do you think you can?” she challenges, and something inside me flutters from her antagonistic game. She fucks with me for sport. Clearly garnering the same twisted delight as me.

  “I guess we’re going to find out.” I rear back and slam into her, nearly bucking her across the bed. I keep her close, securing my hand around her neck, squeezing just tight enough to send her a message—that I am in fucking control.

  That I am ready to let loose, and she is my willing victim.

  I pound relentlessly into Fallon’s body. Driving as deep and as hard as I can. Our grunts and moans tangling together as the pressure builds to catastrophic proportions.

  She reaches back and pulls my hair as my grip tightens on her neck.

  I can’t remember the last time I was this savage or wild, or completely eclipsed. Fallon brings it out of me. No, she rips it out of me. Sets me free in some bewitching way, like a banshee.

  “I want you to come.” I vibrate with the carnality of a wild bear. “I want you soaking wet while I’m buried deep inside you.”

  “Keep fucking me and that’ll happen,” she heaves as our hips clash together. Just the prospect of her orgasm has me flying. Soaring straight toward the bold, bright, burning sun of release.

  “Declan.” My name escapes her lips in an amplification of need, lust, and desire.

  We’re both so close, both right there. And then it happens. The moment of impact. Fallon’s body stiffens as a crescendo of sighs morphs into a symphony of squeals. I lose my fucking mind in the feel of her hot heat flooding all around my cock. My eyes close involuntarily, and my instincts take over. I forget the man and embrace the savage beast. A burst of adrenaline rapidly fires through my veins, and all my vital organs pulsate and swell as I come with a devastating delusion as widespread as a New York City blackout.

  I pump in and out of Fallon’s limp body, the aftershocks of our orgasms conducting pleasure between us. I uncurl my fingers from around her neck as I catch my breath. “Damn, woman.” I vacantly touch every inch of her I can. Her dewy back, her tender breasts, the curve of her delicious ass. Then I spank her. The smack ringing loud around the room.

  “You motherfucker.” She jerks, but I push her onto her stomach before she can retaliate.

  “That’s an accurate description.”

  “I have come to notice,” she purrs, and it stirs something inside me.