Marked (A Dark Serial Killer Romance)
Marked: Chapter 10

“Have you ever met a cop that didn’t have a little dirt on them?” Jeff, my contact laughs on the other side of call.

“It’s been a while since I saw a spotless one, yeah. What did you replace on her?” I run the towel over my hair. Harley was still asleep when I got up, so I left her in bed while I showered and got dressed. The water pressure in this place is unacceptable. I’m going to fix that for her, too.

“Not a whole lot. FBI has more resources to cover up their shit. But I did get a listing of open cases Laurens is still listed on.”

“Anything there?” I ask.

The shower kicks on in the bathroom. She’s up. It’s almost noon.

“Yeah. She’s the lead on the Jessica Hamilton case.”

“Really.” I leave the towel on a chair and pull my bag onto a table. I replace the file I had on Jessica and pull it out, flipping through the paperwork. “I don’t see any FBI involvement with Jessica.”

“It’s active but not a priority. She works with the local department. If they get anything, they report to her.”

“So, she’s just there to babysit,” I scoff.

“More than likely, she’s there in case they actually get a sniff of something that could link Dustin to the case.”

“Why would she care about Dustin?”

“Now that I see her on both these cases, Harley’s and Jessica’s, there might be some cross over. Let me dig a bit more. I’ll get back to you.

I head to the bedroom to get a shirt.

“All right. I’m going to look more into Special Agent Laurens while you’re doing that.”

“Careful, Barns. Taking out some dirtbag who has this sort of rap sheet won’t bring too much heat on you, but you go after an FBI agent and you’re gonna bring down the full agency on you.”

“When have you known me to act before I have all the information?” The shower turns off, and a moment later I hear her humming in the bathroom. I don’t bother fighting the smile it brings me.

“When? Commander Smythe’s tent.” His voice dips.

“I wasn’t wrong,” I defend.

“No. You weren’t. I’m just saying, let’s get more information on her before you take her out. You can get the bigger fish.” He has a point.

While I didn’t mind taking out both my fucking C.O., and the Afghan commander who were sharing a young boy from the village, had I not killed them so quickly, I might have gotten information on which government officials were sanctioning such actions.

“Nothing final. Just gonna do some reconnaissance,” I assure him. The bedroom door creaks open, and Harley steps out. Small droplets of water drip from her still wet hair onto the pink T-shirt she’s paired with a pair of jeans cut off at the knee. They’re just long enough to hide the pretty scars on her thighs.

I sink into the armchair in the living area as she makes her way toward me. Little peaks show through the T-shirt. My sweet girl isn’t wearing a bra. When she reaches me, she climbs into my lap, straddling me.

“I gotta go. Get back in touch when you replace that link.” I hang up the call and toss the phone onto the couch.

“Anything important?” Her eyes follow the phone as it bounces on the cushion.

“Not yet.” I grab her by her hips, pulling her into me, inhaling her vanilla bean shower scrub.

“You’re not wearing a shirt.” She leans back and runs her fingertip down my chest, stopping at a particularly ugly scar just above my left pec muscle. “What happened here?”

I look down at it, though I don’t need to.

“A bullet, baby.” I grab her wrist, bringing her palm to my lips.

“Who shot you?” Worry takes over her expression in an instant.

“Bad men. Real bad men.” Leaning back, I let her get back to inspecting all of the marks on me. She traces the tattoos, one for every tour I did overseas.

“And this?” She runs her fingernail up the scar over my stomach. “This wasn’t a bullet.”

“No. A knife,” I hiss when she digs her fingernail into the skin. It’s been healed for five years, but the scar still has some sensitivity to it.

“I know this one.” She pulls my arm up and brings the inside of my forearm to her mouth, pressing her lips to the largest tattoo on me. It features the wings of an eagle set behind a skull with fire in its eye sockets. Between the wings and the skull is a crossing of a Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife and a sword. Flames and lightning bolts are set in the background.

“You do?” I brush a wet strand away from her face.

“Yeah. My uncle had one like it. Not exactly, but similar. You were a Marine?”

I pause. “I was.”

“Special Forces…no, they call it something else.” She scrunches her lips up while she’s thinking, and it gives her the most innocent sex appeal. My cock hardens beneath her.

“Raiders. The unit is called Marine Raider Regiment.” I wrap my arms around her ass, pulling her to me so I can kiss her throat. “Your uncle was a Raider?”

“Mmmhmm.” She nods. “When he died, Mom had a full military funeral for him.” She sinks further into my lap, moving her feet to curl around my back. “Are you still in the Marines?”

I laugh. “No. They politely asked me to leave five years ago.”

“You were kicked out?” The look of shock on her face is cute, like she doesn’t think I could do anything wrong.

“No.” I shake my head. “I stopped some bad men from doing bad things to innocent kids. I was asked to keep quiet about it, and they asked me not to re-up for another tour.”

Her brow wrinkles. “What bad things?”

I run my fingers over her forehead. “They won’t do them anymore. I made sure of it.” I wink.

She stares into my eyes like she’s trying to get a grasp on me.

“You’re a very dangerous man, aren’t you?” She cups my cheek.

“I am, yes.” I won’t lie to her. No matter what, I will always tell her the truth. “But I’m not dangerous to you.”

“Why?” She tilts her head to the right.

“Because you’re good. And I’m only dangerous to the monsters of the world.”

She smiles. “I like that.”

“You do?” I chuckle.

“I do. There are a lot of monsters.” She sighs.

I squeeze her hips.

“There are.” I kiss her chin. “I want you to do something for me, if you think you can. If it’s too hard, you have to promise to tell me.” I harden my voice a fraction. I won’t have her pretending with me. I need to trust she knows where her limits are.

“What is it?”

“Do you still have that FBI lady’s card?”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to get a message to her that you’ve remembered something, and you want to talk to her. Tell her you want to meet her down at her office.”

“But I haven’t remembered anything.”

“I know, but I want to talk to her.”

She shrugs. “I don’t think it will help, but sure.”

She moves, like she’s going to climb off my lap, but I hold her steady.

“Not yet, little bird.” I work her thin T-shirt up her torso until her breasts are exposed and right in front of me.

She laughs. “What are you doing?”

“What I’ve wanted to do since you walked out here with your nipples peeking out of this little shirt.” I lock eyes with her then lean in, taking a nipple between my teeth and biting down.

She hisses, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve heard. I kiss the valley between her breasts and move to the other side, licking her, teasing the little nub into attention before clamping my teeth down on her.

“That feels…so good.” She looks down at me.

“Take these shorts off, little bird.” I slap her ass.

She jumps off my lap and I manage to get my own pants off before she’s ready to climb back on.

“Wait,” I order, pointing at her. “First, you pull your shirt up and tuck it between your teeth.”

She chews on her lower lip. “Like a gag?”

“Does that scare you?” I ask.

Her cheeks flush. “I can take it out if I need to?”

“Of course.” I nod. “You can just open your mouth and drop it.”

“All right.” She scrunches up the pink material and bites down on it.

“Good girl, now climb on, baby.” I help her get settled, her legs on either side of me and lower her slowly onto my cock.

The moment her heat surrounds me, I groan.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” I lean forward, taking a nipple in my mouth. This time I suck hard until she’s moaning.

“Fuck me, Harley. Hard.” I slap her ass while moving to the left side. “Your tits are so sweet. So fucking sweet.” I suckle hard again, before biting down.

She’s moving up and down my shaft, her muscles squeezing me with each movement.

I let go of her nipple, and bite down on her breast.

She sucks in an air, doubling her speed.

“Fuck.”

The T-shirt soaks up her moan. Digging her fingers into my shoulders, she rides me faster, harder.

“Good girl.” I slap her ass. “Harder.” I slap her again.

“Make it hurt, Zack. Please,” she begs, thrusting her chest at me. The shirt falls from her pretty lips with her plea.

I lick the tip of her nipple, smiling at the annoyance in her groan.

“No. Not like…oh, fuck, yes, like that!” She cries out when I bite down on her tit again, moving an inch, and biting harder.

She moves her feet, taking me even deeper, and I throw my head back, roaring my pleasure.

“Oh! I’m! Oh!” Her eyes fly open and, in another breath, she screams with her head thrown back. Her fingernails will leave marks in my skin, but I don’t give a fuck.

I grab her hips, holding her steady while I pump upward into her, again and again. Her body pulsates around me as her orgasm ebbs. I go harder, faster. Until my balls pull up tight, and I scream her name.

Little sparkles of light dance in my vision as my orgasm fades, and her smiling face comes into full focus.

“You were really loud,” she laughs. “My neighbors might have heard you.”

I grin.

I pat her ass. “Good.”