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Mister Murderer

Mister Murderer

I almost laughed. Not what I was expecting him to say. “Not a problem. If I end end up alone with him I’ll be sure to escape.”

“Ha ha,” he said. “I mean it,” he added angrily.

I rolled my eyes.

“And one more thing...”

“Which is?” I asked him, distractedly. His fingers had begun a slow caress up the side of my leg and under the bottom of my dress. Goose flesh broke out over my arms and I swallowed the moan I almost let out.

“I want to take you to dinner while we’re in Russia,” he said softly, his hands reaching my hips and pulling me onto his lap. He eyed my neck and chest hungrily. “At my family’s house, but you cannot act like a hostage.”

“But, I am a hostage,” I stated.

Does that mean they would help me escape or does that mean they would kill me?

“My uncle will see you as a loose end,” he said. His left hand slipped between my thighs slowly, as if he expected me to slap him at any second. “He’ll want you dead. I don’t want that.”

“Well neither do I,” I said. “So maybe we shouldn’t go to dinner with them.”

“I have to at least once and I’m not leaving you behind,” he said.

Right. Okay.

Fantastic! For a minute I thought you just wanted to take me on a date.

“Fine,” I snapped and readied myself to push him away just as his fingertips found my panties.

“I heard Parker say we land in two hours,” I gasped and he began to massage me on the outside of the fabric.

“That’s right. Are you ready for Russia?” he whispered before I felt his lips on my neck.

Oh my God.

“Not completely,” I choked out, shuddering at the feel of his teeth on my neck. “Is it cold?” I asked stupidly. “I don’t have a coat.”

He groaned as he continued to kiss my neck and his soft caress on the outside of my panties became more insistent.

“You’ll wear mine, Doll Face, until I can take you shopping,” he said, attempting to slip his fingers inside my panties.

“Okay,” I whispered, clutching his shoulders. My body was a budding need, my hips thrusting into his hand, urging him on.

I have to stop him. I can’t do this yet. Not yet.

But I’m going to? Am I crazy?

I grabbed his wrist to pull his fingers away from me. I was panting for breath and there was a throbbing need down below that was hard to ignore. It was painful and it wanted his hand back.

He lifted his mouth off of my neck to stare into my eyes. “When we get to my place there are three bedrooms so-”

“I’ll have to share with you. Gotcha,” I smiled.

“Is it so bad?” He asked. He pulled his hand all the way out of my skirt and I glanced down to see he was rock hard against my thigh. “I personally like having you in my bed,” he laughed.

I didn’t know what to say to that. I was still aching for his touch, so I tensed my muscles and cleared my throat.

I almost like being in your bed Mister Murderer. I definitely like your arms around me in it.

People date criminals right?

Maybe not people like me but...

I love horror movies.

I always kind of thought Jason caught a bad rap.

I sympathized with certain villains. Not all of them mind you just the sad ones and the cute ones..? Not gonna pretend my mind never went there.

“I can deal with that,” I said, loosening my grip on his shoulders.My words came out in a whisper that could be heard in his eyes. They lit up. It was like he sensed my longing for him.

"Desire," he whispered. He gazed at me with uncertainly, his fingers flexing like he didn't know if it was okay to touch me or not.

Why did I pull his hand away? I want it back!

"Yes?I asked, too much of a chicken to grab him and kiss him the way I should have.

He began to say something, but must have changed his mind. Instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly.

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all." He pushed me off his lap roughly and spoke with his back to me. " I have to go and speak to the pilot. I'll be right back. Here," he said, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it on the bed. "Put that on, we'll be landing before you know it."

He exited the cabin, slamming the door behind him.

What did I do wrong?

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