Kiss With a Fist
All characters and places belong to the respective owners
This plot is legally owned by me.
"SHIT! ShitshitshitshitSHIT!" I growled as I emptied my clip. I eased my head around the column so I could see him, and I almost had my head blown off.
"Come on Bella, we've been chasing each other around the world for 2 years, just come out and let's end it, best man wins!" he called out, his velvet sexy voice bouncing off the concrete columns. He was absolutely correct though. Paris, Rome, Milan, Amsterdam, Boston, Uganda. In each one of those places we had come millimeters of killing each other. Especially in Amsterdam, he had the gun pointed at me only 5 feet away, but he hesitated, so I ran. And that was exactly what I was going to do. Run. Even though as much as I hated it, I cared for my life more. My footsteps echoing across the ground mixed with the sound of him emptying his clip was an orgasmic melody.
My heart was racing as I started to blend into the crowd by ripping off the wig and extra layers I wore, throwing them into a trashcan; instantly changing my appearance. I turned my head around to see if anyone was following me. All clear.
I run to my hotel, receiving quite a few stares, I slow down as soon as I hit the lobby, only to speed up again when I hit the stairs. I don't do elevators, even if my room is on the 15th floor. Swipe the keycard and I'm in. I run to the bed and drag out the suitcase that was hiding under the bed. I throw it up, and quickly unscrew the silencer from my gun, and place it in its holder.
As I'm briskly walking down the hallway a thought comes across my mind…It's always bittersweet when one of us runs away. It always feels like there is something left unsaid. Something important. I scrub my face with my hands, and shake my head to get rid of unwanted thoughts that could distract me, and potentially kill me.
10 hours later
After hours and hours of pouring over the plans of the New York penthouse he was staying in, I knew how I was going to get to Emmett. I was going to end him, and all the confusing feelings that came with him.
I soon found my self at the back entrance of his apartment complex, gearing up and getting into costume. A maid's outfit. I tucked my gun and handy-dandy knife into my apron pocket, and my big guns, in the laundry cart, and entered the service elevator. 'Breathe, breathe, breathe, everything is going to be over…TODAY!' I thought to myself.
I quickly walk down the short hallway to his penthouse door.
"Maid's service!" I call with a Hispanic accent. Stereotypical I know, but hey, it worked.
"Come on in!" he hollered back, I walk in loudly to announce my presence, I quickly set to 'work'. I put my ear against the side of the staircase, doubling as a wall. I can smell him everywhere, clean linen, fresh rain, and dew. Sigh. While I'm wondering where in the world I could buy that scent, the smooth, white plaster, right next to my face explodes.
"BELLA!" He calls out. Shit. He must've known from the start that I wasn't a maid. I know my best bet, is to act like he hit me. I bang my head against the wall, and let out a pain filled moan, and drop my gun, letting it clatter onto the cold, marble floor.
"Be-" he didn't even get a chance to finish, I start shooting a shit load of lead, hoping some hit him. But if I want to live I have to start moving, because he is pumping these walls up with some pretty big ass shotgun holes.
After every step I take a new whole is blasted, right where I was seconds ago. And just my luck the hallway leads back to the foyer; big open spaces are a big no no in an assassin's book. And he is already there waiting.
The only safe place is a column directly across from me. I back up, hoping he thinks I'm going away. I build up speed, and slide across the floor shooting at him, while getting to the column. A few of the bullets hit me, and one just skims my arm. I reload, waiting for him to come. But he doesn't. FUCK! I hit him! I get up and I can't see him. Shit. That's rule number 2 of the what you could call "Common Sense for Assassin's" book, never let your target out of your sight. I stalk down the next hallway. I find a safe spot and put my ear to the paper-thin walls. I can hear him breathing.
I shoot my gun right where I heard his breath the strongest, I don't hear the satisfying crunch, of bullet through bone. So I know I missed.
"Bella, are you trying to kill me?" he bellows through the hole in the wall.
"Of course not!" I scream back.
"What about that time in Boston?"
"Oh come on, it was just a little bomb!" I whine
I leave our conversation behind, in search for safer ground. I quickly find myself in the kitchen. I turn around, and SMACK, he punched me.
"Didn't your momma ever teach you not to hit a girl McCarty?" I say through clenched teeth, as we circle each other, waiting for someone to make the first move.
"Yeah, she did but your no girl"
Excuse me? I start to pummel him with everything I got. I knee him in the stomach and quickly follow up with a roundhouse kick to the head.
"I" kick "AM" punch "A GIRL!" I punch him really hard in the temple, and he goes flying. Like literally, he flies. Daaaaamn. He lands right near his gun, I quickly pull mine out.
Great, a stand off.
We stand there for minutes, or for all I know hours.
"Emmett, GODDAMNIT! Just fucking shoot me already." I cried out with tears welling up in my eyes. If I was gonna die I wanted to die doing the only thing I'm good at. Killing.
He started to breathe heavily, and put down his gun. Why would he do that? He put down fucking gun!
"Come on Bella, this is your chance, shoot him" my inner voice chided. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Damnit all to fucking hell.
He walked over to me slowly, then in one quick moment he knocked down my gun and pulled me into his sweet embrace. His tongue coiled around mine. This might sound cheesy—but they fought for dominance—neither one of us was willing to back down.
He picked me up and slammed me into the wall, which was decorated with many different items, causing them all to fall. I wrapped my right hand around his head, deepening the kiss, while he hold my other arm above my head. We continued throwing all of our passion into our kissing.
He backed away for a moment to take off his shirt. It took all my will not to devour him that very moment. He leaned me against the door jam and picked me up. I wrapped my tiny legs around him, making sure he could not leave.
We continued to kiss, and my conscience continued to yell
BELLA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? SHOOT HIM ALREADY!
Itold it to fuck off.
He walked us over to the counter, and swept everything off of it with his very capable hands. He made to lie me down, but I refused. I got up and stood in front of him. I brushed my lips across his soft neck, as I hear the soft swish of fabric as my silk camisole rolls off my body. The soft barriers of clothes are gone and I can feel his need for me against my stomach, causing a pool of desire to boil. As he grind himself against me I roll my head into his hair, and I smell the sweet smell of sweat and soap. Mmmm, the perfect combination.
Now enough of being soft.
I wanna be fucked. Hard.
He pushed me so I'm laying stomach down on the counter. He deftly unzips my maid's costume, and his pants, in a matter of seconds.
He plunges into me. And all I can think of is how huge he is. His thrusts are slow, but far from gentle. My mouth contorts in pleasure. I can hear his euphoric groans, but I can also feel his hot breath on my neck. He quickly spins me around onto another counter so I am lying on my back, and pulls out of me. He lowers his mouth down, down, down, until he reached the promise land.
Oh sweet lord in heaven
He slowly slides his tongue across my folds, and brings his hand up to furiously rub my clit, which sends me off the edge almost immediately. Jesus, this man knew how to work me. Yet my mind was still yelling at me to kill him
I quickly push him off, and circle him, like a shark.