Free Young Love Murder by April Brookshire Page B

sheets are peeking out. The bed is a playing field that practically screams a play-by-play regarding the types of games it’s been privileged to host. Naughty Gabriel.
    If I was a nice girl, I’d be scandalized right about now. I’m not a nice girl. I manage to look skeptical instead of amused as I say, “Straight to that part?”
    “Yup,” he remarks flippantly and flips me over onto the bed, so that he’s on top. This is not a position that I would normally let a male get me in. After all, it puts me at a disadvantage in case of a fight. He kisses me and makes me forget about any other male. “You are so beautiful, Anna.” Looking into his eyes, I see longing and something else that I don’t want to see, or think about. 
“Just kiss me,” I tell him, grabbing a chunk of his brown-black hair and pulling his gorgeous lips back down to mine. He happily complies and runs his hands up my thighs like he did earlier at school. 
    His laugh is husky. “Still got the blades?”
    “Always.”
    Abruptly, he sits up and pulls me onto his lap. “Tell me about it.”
    This is so a conversation I want to avoid. “About what?”
    “Tell me why a girl like you would need to walk around carrying weapons. Do you even know how to use them?”  His look is inquisitive, all thoughts of getting up my skirt forgotten for the moment.
    How much should I tell him? A part of me wants to open up to him, wants him to know the real me. But I know that I’d have to be a complete fool to do that. “Of course I know how to wield a knife. I’m not carrying as a fashion statement.”
    He raises his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, my bad. Of course you know how to use it. Doesn’t every seventeen-year-old girl know how to use a knife?” Is it bad that I even find his sarcasm attractive?
    “Only the cool ones,” I joke. 
    “You’ll tell me everything one day, right Anna?” he asks, green eyes looking searchingly into brown.
    “We’ll see handsome,” I say and ruffle his hair. “I like your hair,” I change the subject, “What do you call this look?”
    “Organized chaos,” he explains and kisses me on the jaw. “You know, I want more with you than I’ve had with other girls, Anna. But I also want to throw you on the bed and have my wicked way with you. I’ve never done this serious relationship thing before, what’s the protocol?”
    “I haven’t done it either,” I tell him honestly. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’m a virgin?” I should not care one bit about his answer, and I won’t.
    He laughs. “No, I wouldn’t. You’re too much of a seductress to be innocent.”
    I slap him on the chest indignantly. “Thanks a lot!” Laughing, I add, “Innocent, I definitely am not.”
    “Hey! I’m just saying. You wanted an honest answer, didn’t you?” He’s still laughing and making me want to kiss him again. 
    I actually don’t even want to think of the word ‘honest’. That word isn’t in my vocabulary. If there were such a thing as a Hitman’s Handbook , the word wouldn’t be included in the glossary. Well, maybe I can be honest about one thing. I grab both sides of the most wonderful face I’ve ever seen and look into the most captivating of eyes. “I like you a lot, Gabriel. Is that a good start to this serious relationship thing?”
    He stops laughing, the feeling in his eyes shifting from mirth to intensity. “An excellent start and I like you a lot too, Anna.”
    He’s coming in for what promises to be a passionate kiss when a buzzer goes off, loudly. “Gabriel honey?” a woman’s voice asks. 
    Gabriel reaches over, turning on his side, and presses a button on an intercom. “Yeah, mom?”
    “Rudy at the front gate said that you brought a guest home. Will she be staying for dinner?” His mother sounds polite. At least she’s not asking who the slut in his room is. Though, that would be pretty entertaining. So would the thought of the intercom going off during sex, talk about a