Burning Love II

Here's the continuation of Burning Love

Tears of joy filled my eyes as I tossed my fiancé over my shoulder and watched him hit the floor with a loud thud. After three months of intense training, I was shocked that I had an uncanny ability to follow in Sam’s footsteps. My hit man lover promised I’d get payback against my uncle who molested me when I was young.

“I can’t believe how fast you learn, Candy.” Sam grinned as he rubbed his hip.

“Great, then I’m ready.”

He shook his head. “You can defend yourself well against a knife attack, but your sniper skills need improvement.”

I embraced my savior and kissed his cheek, whispering, “Honey, when will I get my revenge?”

“Soon.”

He waited till after midnight to take me to the Canal Street train station in New York City. He led me into the men’s room. Newspapers were scattered on the dirt-filled floor. One stall had a missing door. Piles of shit stuck to the porcelain throne. When I faced Sam, he stared at me like a child studying an insect. I opened my mouth to speak, but he locked me in an embrace. Our lips touched. He ran his tongue along the outside of my lower lip. He lifted me on to the sink, sliding my black leotards down to my ankles.

As he entered me I couldn’t believe the rush. My senses heightened. The dim lighting did not interfere with my vision. Beads of sweat slid down his sideburns. His cologne mixed with my scent, overtaking the rancid odor. While he pounded me I realized he hadn’t locked the door. I wondered what would happen if someone entered and saw us. What would Sam do if that someone turned out to be a cop?

I kept to his rhythm, swaying my hips like never before. I wanted to soak in his essence, to allow his power to fuse with my hunger. We kissed, our tongues lashing together with reckless abandon. Before I knew it, moans filled the room. The echo played back my lust-filled cries as if I was singing in an opera of porn. When at last we reached a dual climax, I shuddered in our glorious embrace. When he let me go I felt dirty, yet satisfied.

Sam adjusted his pants and smiled. “Take out the Browning.”

He referred to the pistol he had given me. He handed me a silencer. I twisted it in place. “Who do I have to kill?” I was still a bit out of breath.

“Not who, what.” He grinned, putting on his sunglasses.

I followed him out of the bathroom, relieved we didn’t get caught. We walked to the end of the platform. The whole time I kept the pistol in the pocket of my blazer.

Sam pointed at a rat as it scurried near some trash by the rails. “Shoot it!”
“But that’s a rat.”

He flashed perfect teeth. I glanced around. We had the station to ourselves but a train headed into the station. I had to shoot the large rat quickly or risk the bullet ricocheting and possibly hitting one of us.

“Do it!” he said.

I aimed and squeezed the trigger. The top half of the rodent blew away. I saw an unrecognizable lump of fur splattered against a pillar. I said, “Are you satisfied?” The express train roared by as I put away the gun.

Sam took out a picture of a black-haired woman. She looked about thirty-years-old. “Anyone can kill a disgusting creature, but can you kill a human?”

“What did she do?”

“This one’s not business. It’s personal.” He took off his shades so I could see his eyes. Hatred filled those eyes.

“Who is she?”

He put the sunglasses back on and said, “She’s my wife.”


- 644 words

A Night With Mr. Right inspired Burning Love