“You can give me privacy,” Alfred said after studying her for a moment. He eyed Oscar. “Both of you.”
This was good news and bad news.
Good news is that Oscar would be able to get rid of the other guard.
The bad news is that Ginger was left on her own.
This was her true test.
Oscar and the other guard stepped outside and closed the door.
“He’s been a busy man this evening,” the other guard commented. “Even in front of his date. Wonder what his wife is doing at home, eh?”
Oscar made a murmur of agreement, moving casually behind the other guard.
The other guard didn’t even have a moment to react.
As quick as lightning, Oscar pulled out a small knife from his other pocket, reached out, grabbed the man’s jaw, yanked his head back, and slid the knife across his throat, making sure his windpipe was severed.
The man sputtered and gurgled as the blood poured freely from the wound, soaking Oscar’s hands. He calmly held the man in place, his head practically coming off his neck, until he lowered him gently to the ground, careful to not make a sound.
Satisfied, Oscar stepped over the guard, careful not to slip on his blood, and then pressed his ear against the door.
There was no sound.
Which could mean many things.
But Oscar didn’t want things to go too far with Ginger. The thought of Alfred getting physical with her made him feel a little sick inside.
He pulled his gun out of the holster under his pant leg and held it at his side, then opened the door.
Alfred had pinned Ginger against the fireplace. Her mask was on the ground by her feet, and while she was trying to look seductive, he could see the fear in her eyes.
“James,” Alfred barked at him, straightening up and taking a step away from Ginger. “I told you to wait outside.”
Ginger glanced at Oscar, and he knew she was about to make her move.
She brought out the knife and aimed it Alfred.
He looked at the knife in surprise.
Oscar was surprised too. He was certain she would have gone and sliced his throat like he had just done, but now, with that weapon in her hand, she was unsure.
This is exactly why he wasn’t done teaching her.
“What the fuck?” Alfred said incredulously, a hint of amusement in his voice as he stared at her.
Oscar pulled out the gun and aimed it at Ginger.
He had her right where he wanted her.
“James,” Alfred says. “Did you not check this harlot for weapons before you brought her here?”
“Sorry, sir,” Oscar said, closing the door behind him and sidling across the room, the gun trained on Ginger. “I didn’t find anything on her.”
“You’re going to be fired after this, you know that,” Alfred said, though his voice was tinged with rage. “Now we’ll have to kill her and get rid of her somewhere. Not exactly something I had planned for tonight, especially not at Caroline’s party for Tinsley.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t have worked together for longer,” Oscar said, now just a few feet away from Alfred. He stopped and took the gun off Ginger, aiming it now at Alfred’s head. “But I’m not sorry for what she’s about to do to you.”
Before Alfred realized what was going on, before he could react, Ginger made her move.
She stepped forward, and with the quick flick of her wrist, sliced her knife across Alfred’s throat.
It was a genius cut.
Deep enough to prevent Alfred from calling for help.
Shallow enough to keep him alive for a few minutes.
The blood splattered in an arc, getting her carpet, her dress, creating red stains on her white chest. Her eyes were wide with adrenaline and lust, and he could see once the shock wore off from what she’d done, she might realize how much she liked it.
And, god help him, Oscar Barrera had never been so turned on in his life.
Instinctively he reached down with one hand and rubbed against his cock, hissing lightly at his touch.
Alfred fell to his knees, hands at his throat, trying to speak, to scream, to stop the bleeding, but there would be no use. He would die here in this library.
Oscar lowered the gun, sliding it into his pocket, then he walked over to Alfred and grabbed him by his thin hair, dragging him backward until he was propped up against the fireplace, a path of blood in his wake.
“So,” Oscar said, looking at Ginger, who was still breathing hard, the knife in her hand. “How did that feel?”
Ginger blinked at him, her gaze eventually going down to Alfred, sitting propped up against the fireplace, watching them with panic, his eyes wide and frozen in anger and fear. Oscar took great pleasure in that look, knowing all the wicked things that Alfred had done. Sure, when it came down to it, the two of them were very much alike. But Oscar had a job to do, and Alfred just liked to use and abuse his victims, especially women. Oscar had no problems killing women when it called for it, but Alfred would do so much worse, and for no reason at all.
He deserved to die.
And Oscar knew that he himself deserved to die too.
But right now, at this moment, he was alive.
He was alive, and he’d found a woman he wanted to stay alive for.
She just needed a little convincing.
Ginger licked her lips, and he knew she was having trouble putting it into words. So he decided to.
“You liked it,” he told her. “You liked watching that blood spill from that man’s throat. You liked that you had all the power and that you could take his life. You also liked that you kept him alive for long enough for him to realize all his mistakes.”
She nodded.
Now her eyes dropped to Oscar’s crotch, where his hard-on was still raging.
He had zero doubt that she was as turned on as he was.
“It’s coursing through your veins right now,” he went on. “The power. The satisfaction of killing a man with your own bare hands. It’s turning you on. Making you want to fuck. To feel more alive than you’ve ever felt before.”
He unzipped his pants and took his cock out, thick and heavy in his hands.
He was very aware that he was standing there wearing a wolf mask, a dying man watching the whole thing. It only added to the lust that was threatening to break loose.
But he wasn’t sure what Ginger would do. If this had turned her on enough to let loose with her inhibitions in front of a dying man.
She dropped to her knees.
Oscar grinned.
She took his cock in her fist and slid it between her lips and Oscar’s eyes fluttered closed, a low groan escaping his mouth and reverberating inside the mask.
Fuck.
She was good, too. Messy, a little rough. She held him tight, her teeth grazing him, her lips like a tight, wet glove.
He opened his eyes to see her watching Alfred. His eyes were half-closed but he was watching her suck Oscar off, and she was loving it.
Finally Oscar knew he was too close to coming down her throat, and though he enjoyed the hell out of fucking her face, he wanted to do something special for Ginger. He wanted her to come like she’d never come before.
“Stop,” he said, roughly grabbing her hair and pulling her mouth away, his cock wet and bobbing free. “Get on all fours. Face him.”
Ginger swallowed, her eyes blazing with anticipation, and she did what he said. She dropped down so she was on all fours now, pivoting so that she was facing Alfred, her ass toward Oscar.