21. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Ketamine is tricky. Or maybe it's mixing ketamine with chloroform? Drugs aren't my thing. I like my victims awake and alert while I kill them. But I don't want to kill Justin.

Even though I should. For a long list of reasons, but mostly because he's trying to kill me.

Isn't that rule number one? Eliminate threats?

Problem is Justin isn't a threat.

He's like a fluffy bunny and I'm the big bad wolf.

Yeah, he wants to kill me. And for a pretty penny, so I can't blame the guy. But killing me, he will not. I see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He's completely capable of killing and has done so many times before. But he isn't going to kill me. Which makes all of this so much more fun. I know he isn't going to kill me, but he still thinks he is. Watching him convince himself to believe his own lies is some of the best entertainment I've had in a long time.

At first, I thought this was all for the money. He was coming after me because he wanted the payout. But I offered him more and he denied it. So he can't be desperate for money. Everything on paper shows he's just fine. Doesn't owe any debts. Gets paid enough to live comfortably. No sick relatives. His family is all well off. So, it isn't about the money. Notoriety maybe? Being the one to capture and kill the elusive Piano Man?

Ugh. What a dumb nickname it is. I'd hoped for something much more badass than that. It sounds so… dainty. The last thing I am is dainty. I am not a delicate flower or a beautiful butterfly. I'm a ruthless killer for fuck's sake. But I guess we killers don't get to choose our names. Not unless you're BTK. Maybe I should have taken a page out of his book and dubbed myself The Brain Basher or The Neck Crusher.

Too late now…

I circle Justin, who's sitting in the same wooden desk chair I always put him in when he's here in my cabin. The cabin he leaves from every time. The cabin he knows how to get home from. Yet the little birdy doesn't know how to find me? My, my, how the mind plays tricks.

Leaning against the desk across from him, I take advantage of the time I have while he isn't speaking and look him over. I love the sound of his voice, but sometimes I just want him to shut the fuck up so I can look at him. He's a beautiful piece of human artwork. He has a great body. Fit. Muscled in all the right places. His cock is nice too. Fits in my mouth well. He's reactive, which is even better, though maybe that was the molly talking. Guess I'll have to make sure the next time I make him come he's sober. I'd barely gotten a sip of the drink before Justin came back and downed the whole thing, so I hardly felt the effects of the drug myself. Fine by me because I don't need anything to want to fuck Justin. He's the one who needs convincing.

I don't know his cousin well, but I like the guy. Anyone who thinks me and Justin should be fucking on the regular is great in my book, and Reese is definitely Team Sevustin.

Ah, a good portmanteau. Another thing the Americans fucking ruined. A lovely French word only to be destroyed by things like Bennifer and Brangelina.

And honestly, Sevustin isn't all that great but what other options do we have? Justian? Hell no. J-Sev. Nope. S-Jus? Sustin? Sevin? Fuck, those are awful. He really needs a better name. How boring is Justin anyway?

Okay, maybe we can't come up with a good nickname together, but how important is that in the grand scheme of things? It's low on the totem pole. My biggest concern is getting into his pants. Winning over his heart so he's as obsessed with me as I am him. It'll happen. People fucking love me. I'm like a giant teddy bear with deep dark secrets. I'm suave as fuck, and the slight Russian accent really has people flocking to me. Americans and their small brains.

Of course I pick the one who has morals and a conscience. If only he'd just drop his pants and let me take him, we'd both be happier. All I've been able to think about since sucking his dick is fucking him. Burying my cock so deep in his ass he'll feel it for a goddamn month. We'll get there. Waiting will only make it that much sweeter. And once you give into temptation once, getting there a second time is much easier.

At first, I was consumed by my curiosity with Justin Lorenzetti. Why did I find him so enthralling? What was so appealing about someone, who on the outside, was so normal? But I've since decided I don't care. It doesn't matter. All I know is that I want him, like nothing I've ever wanted in my life before; therefore, I will have him. All of him. Sober. Yeah, the sneak peek at the club was nice. But really, what satisfaction do I get out of knowing he'd probably have gotten on his knees for anyone since he was so drunk and high on molly?

If it ain't real, I don't want it. If you cheat to win, it doesn't fucking count. If you aren't defeating the best, then you're not number one. That's just how I feel about it.

He'll be mine one of these days. I just know it. His sapphire eyes tell all of his secrets. They give him away and he doesn't even know it. Justin can say whatever he wants to me, he can argue that he hates me, tell me he's not interested. But his body doesn't lie. His dick wants me. And those eyes? Fuck, those blue eyes are a window right to his fucking soul.

Or maybe I'm overthinking it. I have been known to do that a time or two.

But hey? It works out in my favor, so fuck it.

I push off the desk and stop in front of him. His breathing is slow and even. I rake my eyes over his body, taking in every dip and line of his muscles. The miles of tattoos along his arms. The way his t-shirt hugs his frame. The way his chest rises with each breath. The bulge in his jeans even though he isn't hard, he's just fucking big. I wonder if he's going to get permanent memory loss from this shit? Hope not. Unless he conveniently forgets his hatred for me.

I grab the hem of his shirt and lift it to gaze over his abs. I like them, but I like my name carved into his skin even more. It's the most beautiful thing about him, other than his eyes.

He's made this so easy. Almost too easy.

And he's in complete denial over everything which is… fuck, I can't even find words for the way it makes me feel. He won't admit to me or to himself that he doesn't want to kill me. Definitely won't admit he wants me.

The opportunity he needs is right in front of his face, yet he's overlooking it. Even when I point it out, he denies it. And I won't tell him that he has everything he needs to kill me. I've said all I need. He can figure out the rest. Watching him put the pieces together is going to be the fun part.

The difficult part is everyone else. Whoever it is that's trying to kill him. I haven't been able to figure that out yet, but I will. I'll be damned if anyone takes this way from me. Justin is mine. The deal I made is going to have to be broken too. Maybe we can laugh about this in the future. Or I'll laugh about it alone because I haven't decided if I'm going to tell him my secret yet. Though I find Justin's desire to kill me humorous, he won't feel the same way when I tell him I was hired to kill him first.

It's why I'm here in the states at all.

Kill Justin and Jackson Lorenzetti.

How fucking coincidental it all is.

Shitty too because it was a nice payday for me. But at the end of the day, all money is just paper. There's plenty of it, you just have to know where to get it. With my set of skills, it comes to me easily.

Keeping Justin is going to cause a few problems, but I've never met a problem I can't handle. So I'll deal with it the same way I deal with everything else. Talk it out and if that doesn't work, kill. Easy peasy.

I let go of Justin's shirt so it falls back into place and step back, keeping my eyes on him. After today, he'll have five letters left. Only five.

Why hasn't he come for me yet?

My dick grows painfully hard as I picture his skin marred with my bite marks and bruises. Teeth marks on his neck and shoulders. Bruises on his hips and thighs. Scratches puddled with blood along his back. The image is beautiful. One I hope to see. I like that he isn't fragile. That I can be rough with him. Hell, I like that he could possibly kill me. Not because he could overpower me but because he has the skills and experience to do so. It's exactly what he likes best about me, no matter how much he denies it.

My boy likes that I can overtake him. Likes that I put him in his place. Probably because no one ever has before. He's used to being the one in charge, taking control. But deep down, Justin likes his control to be in someone else's hands. There's just no one he trusts to do it. I'll prove to him that I can be trusted. That I'll take care of him. That I'll make him feel good. I can see through him a mile away. Hopefully he'll see it all soon too.

I pull my gaze up to his face. His jaw has the start of a beard coming in. He typically shaves every day, keeping his face neat and free of facial hair, but when I take him, he doesn't get that opportunity. Unable to stop myself, I move to him again and run my thumb over his sharp jawline, then over his full lips. The way he looked with my cock on his tongue, taking my cum… Fuck, it was perfect. I need more of it.

He makes a small sound in the back of his throat, then sucks in a breath through his nose. His head lolls to the side, eyes blinking but dazed. The confusion on his face stays for a few moments before he lifts his head, and his eyes settle on me. It takes only a few seconds for recognition to settle, and I swear I see the hint of a smile on his face.

My, my, little birdy… are you happy to see me?