eBook Details


Fatal Desire

Series: Black Widow , Book 3.0
By: Christina OW | Other books by Christina OW
Published By: 5 Prince Publishing
Published: Nov 05, 2015
ISBN # 9781631121357
Word Count: 53,225
Heat Index   
Eligible Price: $3.99

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Palm DOC/iSolo, Microsoft Reader, Epub, Mobipocket (.mobi)

Categories: Romance>Contemporary Romance>Suspense/Mystery/Thriller Romance>African-American


Fatal Desire (Black Widow) by Christina OW - Romance>African-American eBook

All Derek Silva wants is to maintain the life he loves as is. The dangerous lifestyle that came with being a CIA agent with the license to kill. But his long time lover decides she wants a normal life, a slow and quiet life, to have a house and a family. He didn’t do normal and he definitely didn’t do slow and quiet. But saying no to a woman who went by Jackie the Ripper was a fatal risk only an idiot would take. Derek wasn’t known to be very bright.
All Elaine wants is a normal life, to no longer be Jackie the Reaper, the deadliest Black Widow alive. She wants the house with a white picket fence, the husband, the two point five kids and a dog. To be a wife and a mother not an assassin.Was that too much to ask? Apparently so because she had to drop a few bodies to get it
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Chapter One
Holland, November 2009

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”
Katarina Pajari looked up at her new assignment, Ellsa Jabari, her first ever babysitting gig. If the chick wasn’t a cool cat, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Ellsa wouldn’t be having any kind of conversation with anyone, ever again. That’s how much Katarina hated babysitting operatives, especially when it’s clear they aren’t cut out for the job. She lived under the motto, ‘if you can’t do the job, get out of the game’, but Ellsa was a special circumstance.
Katarina looked her over with a keen eye. No twitching, no glassy eyes, sweating or incoherent speech. She looked okay, in control, stable. Sane. They still had some time then before things got hairy. Good. She really would hate killing her so early in their new friendship. It was day three and counting, without an episode, and she really hoped Ellsa stayed on the roll for the rest of the night or the week. Highly unlikely, but she was trying to be an optimist.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
Katarina turned back to look through her scope lens at the man in the hotel room across the street. He was undressing now, slowly like a professional stripper giving a sensual, seductive dance with the slightest of movements for his captivated audience, showing off his rippling, yummy muscles. The perceptive fucker. He was putting on a show. For her.
He knew she was watching. Katarina’s finger twitched on the trigger of the sniper rifle. She should put a round in his stupid mouth and destroy the web of desire he had her trapped in, with one side of his mouth slightly lifted. It was a seductive smile, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
The palm of a hand filled her view, “Killing him won’t solve anything.”
I beg to differ. Killing him would solve a slew of her problems, and in particular one she was having at that very moment. She hated when someone toyed with her. She especially hated it when it was a sexual game against her; to test her, to distract her, to defeat her. She used it on her marks, and to have the tables turned on her just pissed her off enough to paint that floor length window with his brain matter.
When it was clear the palm wasn’t moving anytime soon, with an enraged grumble, Katarina stood from where she lay stomach down on the table and glared at Ellsa, “You have another solution?”
Ellsa gave her an incredulous look as if the answer was right in front of her, dancing a jig on her nose and she couldn’t see it.
“Yeah, scratch the itch, and by scratch I mean fuck him not kill him. Just because a man drives you to distraction doesn’t automatically mean put a bullet in his head to get your concentration back.”
Katarina scratched the nervous itch at the back of her head just below her hairline. Seeing Ellsa, this human side of her, made her nervous. At the moment, she had a starry look in her eyes, a slight lift of her lips as if she was reliving a perfect memory and this pure look of contentment over her face. But that quickly disappeared and was replaced by a creased brow, wet eyes and trembling lips before she hid it all behind her perfected seductive assassin face.
“I have a feeling you are speaking from experience and if I’m right, don’t you have a two-year-old running around somewhere because you scratched your itch?”
Ellsa’s eyes narrowed threateningly, “Katarina, that’s my son’s uncle. I will not let you kill him!”
“Fine!” she responded through clenched teeth and stomped to their hotel room door with determined strides.
“Where are you going?” Ellsa called after her.
“To scratch my fucking itch!” she slammed the door shut behind her.
Five minutes later, she was at his door jimmying the lock. It had occurred to her to just knock, but if he was a good spy, he wouldn’t be asleep in the same room he was exhibiting himself in. He’d walked in front of that floor to ceiling window, drapes pulled all the way open so anyone could see the layout of his single room clearly. It was Spy 101 when setting a trap. But then again he might be two kinds of idiot. The first, a cocky bastard who thinks he’s invincible because he’d survived a few brushes with death. The second, he was just a fool who didn’t pay attention in spy class and has been lucky not to be murdered in his bed, yet. But this guy, Derek Silva was not the latter. A little of the former, definitely. She was sure he was already in the adjoining room sound asleep.
She finally got the door unlocked, but she didn’t push it open right away. She straightened to her full height then gave it a little push. The door swung open slowly and noiselessly until it hit the wall. She stared into the darkness and listened. Not even a whisper of movement. She smirked. She was right; cocky bastard, but not an idiot. Hopefully the same can be said about her.
She took a tentative step in, reached for the light switch by the door jamb and right when she was about to flick it on, a massive hand wrapped around her wrist. Damn! She never considered he would move the bureau from where it had sat before against the wall and close to the door, to take its place. This was why she wanted to kill him, he muddled her thoughts. She let him pull her fully into the room. She felt him sidle up behind her, then the door shut, taking away the little light from the hallway.
“Katarina Pajari. Can’t say I’m surprised you dropped by,” he got closer, his front pressing against her back, his grip still around her wrist. Katarina stayed very still.
She wasn’t surprised he knew who she was. She never made her identity a secret. She wanted people in her world to know who she was, so that when they saw her coming for them they would make the hunt a hell of a lot more fun. But mostly, she wanted one man, in particular, to know what she was, a nightmare of his own creation. She wanted him to easily recognize her work as an incentive to stay the hell away from her.
But that was a story for another day.
Katarina cursed herself. The entire thing was a setup. She knew the exhibition was to distract her, but not to draw her to his room and trap her. She knew he wanted to be noticed, but she never thought further as to explain why, because she was too busy drooling over his orgasmic body. If she got out of this alive, she was going to show Ellsa where she could stuff her opinions. She should have just scratched him, and by scratch, she meant kill him. Now, she had to wait and see the move he made next. Only amateurs made the first swing without taking a moment to assess the situation.
“What I would like to know is why you honor me with a visit.”
The easy way he spoke, it was as if she was a neighbor, stopping by to ask for a cup of sugar.
“Bad advice from a soon to be dead friend,” she grumbled.
Damn the darkness. She could have looked around the room for possible weapons. Trying to reach for the knife in her boot would alert him and she was at a disadvantage if he had a gun close by. She didn’t carry guns. That was Ellsa’s thing. Katarina preferred a blade; it was up close and personal. She had a variety of them. Guns were a last ditch option for her.
“Oh really? What exactly did your friend send you in here to do?” He brought her hand behind her back, pulled it up until her fingers touched the back of her neck. Her shoulders pinched, but she refused to show it. “Sorry for the discomfort but I don’t trust you not to try anything while I search you.”
She snorted, “If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead right now.”
He chuckled, “Oh really?”
She felt him squat, then his hand moved up her right leg and down her left. She smiled. He never once bothered to check her boots. She was going to give Andres a fat bonus for his great custom job on them.
“Yup. It’s because I wanted to kill you that has led me to this situation.”
He paused for a second before his hand kept moving slowly up her left leg. He was being thorough with the body search. Good for him.
“What exactly is ‘this situation’?”
“Scratching an itch,” she answered nonchalantly.
He stopped altogether, let go of her wrist and stepped away. The next instant the room was flooded with light. Still she didn’t move from where she stood. A great fit for a predator like herself.
She felt, more than heard him move around her, his feet very light on the thinly carpeted floor. He stood in front of her and she got to appreciate all that had her drooling from across the street, up close and personal. He wore black from head to toe and his latte skin looked even more appealing. Before, when she’d watched him through her scope, he’d been shirtless, in flannel blue pants that hung dangerously low on his hips, and barefoot. He looked so at ease moving around the room, she was envious. He must be prepared, with weapons strategically placed around the room. He was cocky for a reason—though he should have checked her front and boots. She had just as many knives sewn into her jacket as she had in her boots. When he pressed himself into her back, she knew he was looking for a weapon there.
Derek was good at what he did. Probably one of the reasons she wanted to carve up his pretty face. And that was the other thing, he was prettier than she was. He had grey-green eyes that were hypnotic, full pinkish enticing lips and had a strip of hair from the bottom of his lower lip that joined that at his chin that ran from one end of his jaw to the other before joining his sideburns. The top of his head was full of curly short black hair.
His eyes narrowed and he looked her over from head to toe and back up, “Katarina, what are you doing here?”
“I thought we’ve already been through that?”
He gave her a crooked smile, “You want me to help you scratch an itch?”
She rolled her eyes, “it’s light picking at the CIA, huh Derek?” she waved his shocked look off, “Yeah, I also know who you are Derek Silva. In fact, I know a lot more than what I’m comfortable with. This is the fifth time I’ve seen you and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”
He had his flirty smile back on, “No?”
“No, because I don’t believe in coincidences.” She started unbuttoning her jacket, “You had your reason why you were parading half naked in front of your window. Right now, I don’t care to know it. I’d rather we get to what brought me here. Scratch my itch.”
His eyes flared with desire as he watched her strip and yet his body language said how much he distrusted her. Once she was stripped down to her bra and boy short panties, she made a three-sixty turn, “See, no concealed weapons.”
He shook his head, “Black Widows are known for their ability to hide weapons in plain sight. One of you is known for using a garrote as a headband. Run your hand through your hair.”
She snorted. What exactly could she hide in her hairdo? Her hair was as short as his and most of it sat around her forehead temple to temple. At the top, her hair was twice as long as the back at four inches filled with red streaks and combed to the right side. But she did it anyway, ruffling and messing it up.
With a quirk in his lips, he said, “Not quite yet. Strip it all off.”
“Oh for crying out loud!”
Katarina was getting tired of this fast. Quickly she reached for her boot, grabbed the hilt of her favorite knife that was disguised as a buckle and pulled it out. She dropped further into a crouch and swiped his legs from under him. He landed hard on his back and she quickly straddled him, grabbing the neckline of his shirt with her free hand.
“I’m on a schedule and I don’t have time to play pussyfoot with you. Once we screw, I’ll be right as rain and you’ll be out of my system. Now, you either strip or I’ll cut your clothes off.” She felt his crotch swell under her, “Derek, does having a knife to your throat turn you on?”
“What do you think?” he asked hoarsely, pushing his pelvis up, thrusting his crotch into hers.
“My, my Derek Silva. Don’t you just get high on danger? How much hornier would you get if I spilled some blood? Not much, just a little.” She pressed the sharp edge of the knife into his collarbone, nicking him a little and drawing just a drop of blood.
He didn’t even flinch. Instead his lips spread into a full blown smile, “Oh, I think I’m in love.”
Things progressed quickly from there. His clothes, well his shirt at least, suffered the knife, but his jeans dropped off quickly enough. They never made it to the bed, just went at each other like crazy, horny beasts on the floor. Her back and ass were hot from the friction from the carpet, but she was too high with pleasure to care about carpet burns. Her nipples on the other hand fell in love with the carpet when he pinned her down on her stomach and took her from behind. She loved that she was right about him. Derek knew his stuff and amazing sex ranked very high on his skillset. Once they were done, laying side by side exhausted, their bodies twitching from the aftershocks of beyond fantastic orgasms, she knew there was no way this was a one time thing.
“So,” he started through heavy breathing, “Should I get your number or do you want mine?”
She chuckled, turning to her side to face him, “I think we’ll find each other again, like we always do.”
He smiled, his eyes still closed, “Good. I’m not about to give up this high anytime soon. In our line of work, I think we deserve it. We are technically not breaking any rules.”
She rolled back onto her back, her smile slipping, “I don’t have any rules to break, but I’m sure you do.”
He patted her naked thigh, “Hey, I’m good at what I do. No one will find out.”
“For your sake, I hope so.” She was sitting up when the sound of glass breaking filled the room. She went to reach for her knife, but Derek had already rolled on top of her, his gun pulled and pointed out the window.
“Stay still. Someone just shot at us from your room.” His voice was hard, harsh. They were back to business. It was good to see his recovery time was mere seconds.
She looked at the hole that was in the window and followed the trajectory to where the bullet must have ended up in the wall. Smoke was coming from the hole it made in the wall. Evaporating bullets. Ellsa.
She pushed at Derek, he was heavy and she loved his weight on her but they’d run out of time. “That’s just my partner telling me it’s time to leave. Get off, Derek.”
He rolled away and sat on the floor, gun still in hand as he pulled his jeans closer to him. “Let me guess, the White Widow? She’s new, isn’t she?”
Katarina stood and quickly began to get dressed. Ellsa wasn’t new. She’d been in the game for a while and was an expert at hiding her identity. She had loved ones to protect, more so now that she had recently changed her campaign, her nom de guerre with it. She’d been known as the Zodiac’s Widow for years. She used to be that thing that went bump in the middle of a moonless night before she put a hole in a target’s head, and since she had the kid, she’d gotten even better at hiding her identity. Her killings were also different. They were now justified, no longer just a job. A few weeks ago she’d successfully turned Katarina. Now they hid the would-be victims of meaningless deaths and took out those who deserved to die. For all their sakes, Vladimir needed to keep believing that Katarina was the same old same Jackie the Ripper.
“You could say that.” once fully dressed, she slipped her knife back into her boot and laughed at Derek’s stupid-me face.
“Should have checked those,” dressed only in his jeans, he stood and approached her, “Next time I will.”
She shook her head keeping a foot of distance between them. If she had any hope of leaving, he couldn’t touch her, “I don’t think there will be a need. We’re in agreement now.”
One knowing brow went up, “Oh yeah? What if you were sent to kill me?”
She shook her head. If he only knew the kind of firepower he had on his side, watching his back.
“You have two very dangerous women watching your back. No one will ever come close enough.” Katarina hated that she sounded so sappy, but she meant every word. Hanging out with Ellsa was thawing out the ice block that was her heart.
Raised brow he asked, “Two? I’m guessing you and the White Widow? Why, because I’m—”
His eyes widened and she knew it was time to go. She began to walk toward the door, but he caught her arm and pulled her back.
“Damn it to hell! When did you do it? Before or after you came here?” he growled, his eyes glowing with rage.
Katarina just smiled back, “I think it was while we were having sex. You really didn’t think you guys could keep Cornelius from us, did you?”
He grumbled under his breath and swiped his hand across his face. He glared down at her, his jaw working overtime. The fact that he was mad about that animal’s death pissed her off.
She yanked her arm out of his grip, “You’d better be pissed off about something else and not that fucker’s death, or I may just rethink killing you.”
“Katarina, he was my assignment. He had information—”
“Keeping the devil that experimented on and killed hundreds of kids alive was your assignment?” She yelled cutting him off, “That’d better be the CIA talking and not you.”
He exhaled loudly, “My boss isn’t going to like this. But as for me, I say he deserved much worse than a bullet to the head.”
Katarina relaxed and smiled, “If I know my friend well, there was nothing quick about his death. Besides, losing your job at the CIA won’t be so bad. They are worse than terrorists as far as I’m concerned.” His eyes bored into her and Katarina knew his next question, “I’m sure your fellow spooks are okay.”
He sighed and nodded. “Good. I like my job,” then he reached for her and pulled her into his arms, “Besides, I like the excitement of sleeping with the enemy. We’ll lose that if I get fired.”
She shook her head, “You’re a junkie for danger, Derek Silva.” She went on her tiptoes and gave him a quick—well what started as chaste and was quickly escalating to a strong need to get naked again—kiss before she pulled away and hurriedly moved to the door. “See you soon, spook.”
“We are going to have loads of fun, Kitty Kat. Don’t let anyone else touch that sexy body, I promise I’ll make the wait worth it.”
She looked at him one final time and saw the promise in his eyes that made her tremble, “I don’t believe in promises but… I might make an exception for you.”

Fatal Desire

By: Christina OW