Hitman's Secret Baby: A Bad Boy Romance by McKenzie Lewis

the issue—I wanted to push a lot of issues, in fact—but I didn’t. Mason never did react well to being pushed. I felt I even had some right to, after everything, but it didn’t seem fair to wield that right like a weapon.
    If Mason wanted to talk, he’d talk.
    I looked out of the window. We were high up now, the town a twinkling scatter of lights below us, getting farther and farther away. He was taking us away from civilization, it seemed.
    “Where are you even going?” I asked.
    “Nowhere,” Mason said. “I like to drive around sometimes.”
    “You still do that?”
    “Don’t get much opportunity in New York.” He shrugged. “But when I’m on a job, yeah.”
    Mason used to go for drives when he was stressed out or upset. When his mother was killed, he jacked a neighbor’s car and went for a joyride, being too young to own one of his own.
    Some things really did never change. I’d told Justin earlier that I couldn’t possibly love Mason because I didn’t know him, but Mason was making it difficult to keep up that protest. He just kept demolishing all of the preconceived notions about him that I’d built up since the day of Anna’s crashed wedding.
    As we sped through the country roads, past the thick trees and open fields, I found it more and more difficult to take my eyes off him. My hand crept out like a thing possessed, touching his thigh, spreading over the denim.
    I watched him swallow and lick his lips in profile.
    “You’re like two people, you know that?” I said suddenly, my voice coming out without any forethought.
    “How’s that?”
    “When you came back, all I could see was the hitman,” I admitted. “And he’s terrifying and sexy and I hate myself for thinking that.”
    Mason stared ahead for a moment. “And who’s the other guy?”
    “Just you. Mason who laughs and jokes and likes to drive his troubles away.”
    My hand tightened on his thigh, slipping over and between his legs. It was reckless, but that was what he made me feel: total reckless abandon.
    The car slowed and it seemed he had enough sense to try to find a place to park. I felt the anticipation in my stomach, knowing exactly why.
    “It’s not like you’re ever gonna stop being a hitman, right?” I prompted, my fingertips finding the shape of his cock under his jeans.
    “Taryn,” he sighed.
    “What?” I said lightly, curling my hand over him. “It’s just a question.”
    “You can’t ask me that.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it’s none of your fucking business,” he snapped, and then he winced. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
    I pressed down with the flat of my palm and felt his cock stiffen, cutting off his apology.
    I didn’t care. He could get angry all he wanted, but all it meant was that he was thinking things through and coming up with conclusions that made him question himself.
    “I can’t figure out which of those guys you are,” I told him in a low voice, rubbing his stiffening cock through the denim until he gasped.
    “Whichever’s gonna get me laid right now.”
    I scoffed, biting my lip. If I didn’t want him so bad, I might have stopped touching him just to make him suffer, but I hadn’t gotten to have him the other night and like I told Justin—I had needs.
    Between a patch of cherry blossoms, in a wide ditch off the side of the fairly obscure road, Mason finally came to a stop.
    The heel of my hand brought him to full hardness and, with the feeling of seclusion and being shrouded in darkness a heady mixture, I leaned over, pressing my mouth against his ear. “Show me the hitman.”
    He yanked me from my seat and into his lap, gripping my hips with his hands like branding irons.
    Our mouths hovered close and Mason bit my lower lip between his teeth, dragging it outwards. “You sure about that?” he growled.
    “Yes.”
    I already felt yielding against him. I knew I was playing with fire, asking for this side of him, but I wanted it.
    “Is this why you wanted to see me