Assassins Are People Too: Assassins in Love Series, #1

By S.C. Wynne

Marc Francis is a paid assassin. He's got a little thing for the blond guy in 39D. One day one of Marc's enemies tries to get the drop on him in the elevator and his blond crush, Dillon Carter, from 39D, sacrifices his potted plant to save him.

Marc and Dillon have a strong sexual connection and as the months go by, and they steal time together, it develops into something more. But Marc doesn't really do relationships, and Dillon worries Marc will ever be able to love him back the way he needs.

Also, when you're a paid assassin, not everybody is rooting for your happy ever after.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.C. Wynne
• Release date: Oct 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393142461

S.C. Wynne

S.C. Wynne has been writing MM romance and mystery since 2013. She’s a Lambda winner, and lives in California with her wonderful husband, two quirky kids, and a loony rescue pup named Ditto. www.scwynne.com

Book preview

Assassins

Are

People Too

Prologue

Assassins Are People Too

Marc

Jesus fucking Christ, Blondie was beautiful. Every time I saw him, his beauty struck me all over again. His hair was golden silk, his lips full and ripe, and his eyes the color of the sky after a good hard rain. I rarely had such an instant attraction to someone, but the first time I’d seen him coming in the lobby of our apartment building, something had snapped to life inside of me.

Of course, we had zero future. I couldn’t even speak to him. Partially that was because I felt a bit tongue-tied around him, but mostly because I didn’t want to get him killed. My job precluded me from forming personal attachments to people. Dating wasn’t really an option when you were a paid assassin. I had way too many enemies. If I took someone out to dinner they were likely to wind up face first in their soufflé with a bullet in the back of their head.

I didn’t want that to happen to Blondie, so I admired him from afar. Fantasizing about cornering him in the laundry room and having my way with him. Of course, I didn’t do laundry, I sent it out for cleaning, and Blondie probably wasn’t the kind of guy who fucked strangers on a washing machine.

But a man can dream.

At the moment, we were both waiting for taxis by the front of the apartment building. I usually drove, but my car was in the shop. I’d seen Blondie driving a late model car before, was he having car troubles too?

Next to us another tenant, Mrs. Price from 22D was allowing her spoiled Lhasa Apso to shit in the begonias, much to the chagrin of the door man, Joe.

Mrs. Price, the dog can’t use the flower bed as his bathroom. I’ve spoken to you about this before. Joe grimaced, gesturing to the dog.

Mrs. Price ignored him, and cooed to her pet, What a good boy you are Mr. Pickles. Don’t listen to the mean man.

Joe pulled off his hat, raking a hand over his white hair. I’m not mean.

I gritted my teeth, trying not to get involved. Mrs. Price never left her apartment without a full face of makeup, and high heels. Her hands were smooth and uncalloused, with long red nails. I suspected she’d grown up pampered because she seemed to have no tolerance for other people’s feelings. As far as I knew she had no husband and only had eyes for Mr. Pickles.

If you’re going to allow your dog to defecate in the flowers, you need to at least bring a waste bag with you, Mrs. Price. Joe reseated his hat firmly on his head.

Her eyes bugged. Why would I do that?

To dispose of the waste. Joe frowned.

I met Blondie’s eyes over her head, and he shook his head. I nodded, rolling my eyes. Just that small interaction had my pulse speeding up. It was almost impossible to pull my gaze from his. I’d have loved to stand there and just stare at him, but I needed to get going. There were people to see… and kill. Gawking at my sexy neighbor wasn’t on the agenda for today.

When Mrs. Price started to walk back into the apartment lobby, Joe blocked her way. I’m sorry, Mrs. Price. You must dispose of that… waste. You cannot just leave it. I’ve given you many warnings and, frankly, I’m tired of picking up after you.

She leaned in toward him, and said coldly, Then don’t. It’s organic matter. It will go away on its own.

Blondie gave an impatient sound. It will take ages for that, and in the meantime it stinks and attracts flies. His cheeks flushed pink, and his eyes glittered with irritation.

Yeah, I said. I was shocked when that word slipped from my tight lips. I’d had no intention of getting involved, but when Blondie spoke up, something protective stirred inside.

He gave me a grateful glance, and then turned his attention back on her. Pulling a plastic grocery bag from his pocket, he held it out to Mrs. Price. Use this.

She looked as if he’d offered her a rattlesnake. I’m sorry?

You should be, he muttered. You need to pick up Mr. Pickles gift, and toss it in the garbage.

I’m not doing that, she spat, giving him a chilled look. Then she turned to Joe, and he seemed to wilt. I’ll have your job for this outrageous insult.

Mrs. Price, I’m just watching out for the occupants of this building. He looked uneasy.

She curled her lip and pushed past him. Without thinking, I stepped in front of her. She stopped short, and her dog growled at me.

You’re not going anywhere, lady. My voice was hard. The cool metal of my Glock rested against my breast bone, and I’d have loved to pull it out and end the old hag, but I knew that wasn’t possible. I took the bag from Blondie, and I pushed it against her hands that clutched Mr. Pickles. "Clean up after your dog. Now."

This is outrageous, she whispered, but she also looked slightly intimidated.

Blondie gave a gruff laugh, and our eyes met. He looked impressed, which sent a flush of heat through my entire body. Why the hell I cared what this kid thought, I wasn’t sure, but his approval pleased me greatly.

Hurry up, I growled. The flies are already gathering.

Well, I never, sputtered Mrs. Price, but she grabbed the bag from me.

Shall I hold Mr. Pickles? Joe offered helpfully.

No! hissed Mrs. Price. Don’t you dare touch him. She set the dog on the sidewalk, and stalked stiffly over to the planter. Then she covered the waste with the bag, and managed to clumsily get it into the plastic. She coughed and gave a few gagging sounds, but then she straightened. She strode to the waste can a few feet away, and tossed the bag in.

I met Blondie’s gaze and he grinned. My lips twitched, and my heart fluttered at how pretty his smile was. God, I’d have killed to have that gorgeous mouth on my cock one day. But that was never going to happen. We came from completely different worlds, and I didn’t have time or room for a relationship. If I’d even known how to have one.

Mrs. Price lifted her chin, scooped Mr. Pickles up, and strode past us into the building.

Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Blondie called after her.

Don’t let it happen again, I added in a gruff voice.

She ignored us and disappeared inside the structure.

Joe gave us a grateful look. Sorry to have to be that pushy, he said, shifting uneasily. But the flies are becoming a real problem.

I’m glad you stood your ground. Blondie patted the older man’s arm. She’s gotten away with that long enough.

She probably really will try and get me fired.

That’s not going to happen, right? Blondie met my gaze. We’ll speak up for you if need be. We saw what happened. You’re just doing your job.

I had no intention of speaking up for Joe. The less people I talked to the better. I certainly wasn’t going to go out of my way for Joe or anybody else. But Blondie was looking at me with such certainty, I didn’t have the heart to let him down, so I just nodded. I traveled a lot, odds were I wouldn’t have to worry about being dragged into anything.

Blondie glanced down at his watch. Crap. I’m late for work.

At that moment, a taxi pulled up beside us. We both took a step toward the car, and then we both stopped. We’d actually come out of the building at the exact same time earlier, so there was no real rule for who should get the taxi first. Dealing with that stupid woman and her dog had now made me very late as well.

I grimaced. I’m running behind too.

Hmmm. Blondie scowled.

A brunette ran up, looking frantic. Do you guys mind if I take this cab?

Yes. We both answered at the same time.

She groaned. Oh, God. I’m going to be fired for sure. Please let me take it. I’ll give you twenty bucks.

I opened my mouth to tell her to fuck off, but Blondie spoke up before I got the words out.

I’m late for work too, Blondie said politely. We could maybe share? He met my gaze. Is that cool?

Irritation boiled in my gut. It was one thing to share a ride with him, but this strange woman? I had no idea who she was. I’m going south, I said gruffly.

Me too, Blondie said.

Yes, me too, exclaimed the brunette. We can share!

Awesome, I muttered. I opened the door of the taxi, and the woman jumped in first. I had to restrain myself from grabbing the back of her coat and yanking her out. Blondie got in next, and I glanced around, and climbed in last. I didn’t share taxis with people. The situation had me very uneasy. While I liked the press of Blondie’s thigh against mine, I had no idea who the woman was. She could be a plant sent by my enemies for all I knew.

We each told the driver where we were headed. I gave an address a few blocks from my actual destination. I needed to arrive at my marks place on foot, and couldn’t have the taxi dropping me off on his doorstep.

Our driver was crap; he raced red lights, and took corners way too fast. The brunette babbled non-stop, giving me a headache. The only good part was the feel of Blondie’s warm body next to mine. He smelled good too, clean and masculine. His hand rested next to my thigh, and I was a little embarrassed when my dick hardened. But he was my fantasy guy, and being this close was hard to ignore.

As the woman blabbered, and the driver swerved in between cars, I closed my eyes and fantasized about being alone in the cab with just Blondie. God, I’d have loved to push him face down on the vinyl seat, pull his jeans low, and sink into his ass. I knew he’d be tight, and hot. Was he a vocal lover? Would he beg for me to fuck him harder? Deeper? Would he mind if I took him bare?

I could just imagine the feel of gliding in and out of him, my precum slicking the way. He’d probably be so tight I’d pop fast. But I’d want him to come first. I’d want to hear his whimpers and gasps as his orgasm rocked him hard.