Free The Risqué Target by Kelly Gendron Page A

Maddox. Nancy said he was coming, but how did he find me this quickly?
    “So you did,” she purred. Damned if she’d show him he’d knocked her for a loop. “Is that a gun pressed into my backside”—she glanced over her shoulder at him—“or are you just happy to see me?”
    He gazed at her with indolent, unaffected eyes. Damn those eyes!
    “Well, let me say this.” He pushed the firm object farther into her flesh. “Whatever it is, I guarantee you it's loaded and ready to go.”
    She looked past the gun to his waist, making her point, but came back up to only be greeted by his smug, cool face. She bit her lower lip. “I like the sound of that, loaded and all ready to go,” she flirtatiously mused.
    “Don't play with me, airport girl.” He lazily exhaled. “There's something else I guarantee you, Nala. You will lose.”
    She hesitated after hearing him say her name, but swiftly collected her wits. “Don’t be too sure about that.”
    He stared at her with unreadable eyes until he finally said, “The game you're playing. Let's just say I have a bit of experience with it, and sweetheart, you will not win.”
    “Oh?” she lifted an eyebrow. “Try me,” she countered, realizing the board where they were about to play this particular game might be the bed, the floor, or anywhere their naked bodies landed. The worst of it all was, even knowing he was Gabe's killer, her insubordinate body still wanted this man. Even when he stood behind her with a gun to her back.
    “Okay,” he sighed as if bored. “Have it your way, but I get to make the first move.” His gaze traveled to her lips. “And the card I've just drawn says to instruct my opponent to move three spaces down and show me what she can do with that sassy mouth of hers.” His eyes lowered to his crotch. “I want to feel those sweet lips of yours taking in every inch of my—”
    She snapped her gaze up to his. A sudden heat smoldered in his blazing blue eyes. He grinned. “What? Now that you know the stakes, you don’t want to play the game?”
    Hell yeah , she'd be ready to play his enticing game. If he’d been anybody in the world but the man who’d murdered her partner. She’d drop to her knees, tear his nicely fitting jeans from his body and take the thickness of his cock into her mouth. With both hands wrapped around him, she'd start at the tip of his bold arrogance and lick him until he slid easily past her lips. Wetting his shaft and swirling her tongue over his head, she'd consume as much of him as she could. She'd suck up all that cocky arrogance and swallow every last damn bit of it.
    If he’d been anybody in the world but who he was.
    He stood, waiting for her reply, unaware of the thorough blow job she'd just given him in her mind. She considered giving her watering mouth a cleansing swipe with the back of her hand. Instead, she licked her lips and then smoothed them together. “It appears you're not going to play fair. You’re making up the rules as you go along.” With a tart smirk, she sandbagged him. “And you mistake crude for sexy.”
    If she’d thought to clobber him, she’d been wrong.
    “When is it ever fun to play fair?” That arrogant little smile never left his lips. “Do what my card says, and you can have your turn, my refined lady.”
    Despite her determination, she found herself considering his offer.
    “Come on.” He leaned in toward her. “I'm curious what card you'll draw. I want you to show me the difference between ‘crude’”—his smile widened— “and ‘nasty and wicked.’”
    Move on down three spaces to my honey pot with that wicked mouth of yours, she thought. But she didn’t say it aloud. His mouth. The mouth of her partner’s killer.
    What was wrong with her? She’d played games before. In her line of work, everyone played dangerously in one way or another. Yet she’d never been a pervert, never desired a man she loathed.
    Never craved for murderous hands and lying lips to bring