The Housewife Assassin's Hostage Hosting Tips (Housewife Assassin Series Book 9) by Josie Brown Page B

freshen up first? Which way to the little girl’s room?” she asks in her kewpie doll voice.
    I point her in the right direction. “That way, and around the corner.”
    By the time she’s halfway down the hall, Dominic’s tongue is on the floor.
    Before he can follow her in there too, I slap his arm. “You better behave yourself! If she becomes my replacement, she’s on your mission team. How do you think your hanky-panky shenanigans will go over with Ryan?”
    Dominic responds with a smirk. “I presume he’ll react the same way he did when he found out about you and Jack–he’ll put his revolver in his mouth for a quick game of Russian roulette.”
    I blush. “Ha, ha, very funny! At the very least, you can wait until she actually gets the position before you pounce.”
    He shrugs. “I’ll call her either way. ‘Commiseration sex’ is the best kind. Albeit ‘survived death’ sex is high on the list as well. Then again, ‘you saved my life’ sex usually leads to a jolly good time, not to mention ‘angry at my husband’ sex. Talk about boisterous!”
    “Let’s not.”
    “You act as if you’re strapped into some sort of chastity belt, my dear. But we both know better, now don’t we?” He laughs heartily. “That one, on the other hand, is quite a saucy minx, and makes no bones about it.” He winks. “She told me I remind her of her husband. Can’t do better than that, eh?”
    I’m just about to tell him that Pucci thought so “well” of Knuckles Tedeschi that she shot him through the heart when the lady in question waltzes out of the ladies’ room.  
    She and I head for the elevator with Dominic right on our heels.
    He had better tread lightly. We’ll be around guns, and accidents do happen.

    “Wow, another bullseye! ...I guess.” I stare down at the bullet-riddled crotch of Pucci’s paper target. This time around, her weapon was a Sig Sauer P226R. So far, she’s moved through a Colt 45 and a Glock 42 with similar ease. “I mean, as long as you weren’t aiming at his heart, or his head. You weren’t…were you?”
    “Get outta here!” Pucci smacks her gum hard and loud. “If we shoot ’em in the gonads, they stay alive, and we can torture them to squeal on their rat bastard pals. Besides, the world needs more eunuchs. Dontcha agree, Dom?” She looks over at Dominic for validation.
    Despite his bacon-crisp tan, his complexion is now a light shade of green. “In–Indubitably!” he stutters. He nods his head so hard I’m afraid he’ll snap something.
    I hand her the last test weapon–an AR-15. “Have you used one of these?” I ask.
    She shrugs. “My old man kept one under the bed. I shot that pedo-bastard scumbag with it. Made a hell of a hole in his chest! The exit wound was even better. You could have driven a Mac Truck through it.”
    Hearing that, Dominic’s skin tone goes from puce to ghost. His hand is shaking so much that his next shot misses the target completely.
    Seeing it, Pucci’s bubble pops, causing Dominic to jump out of his skin. “Yo, Duke of Earl! You can do better than that, can’t you?”
    He smiles weakly and points to his ear protectors, as if he can’t hear her.
    Bullshit. He’s just running scared.
    “Obviously, you’re proficient with the AR-15. Here, try this.” I hand her a Bellini M4.  
    Dominic’s eyes narrow. A sly smile rises on his lips. “Here, let me help with that.” He positions himself behind her–very close.  
    Make that too close. Either she’s ticklish or just not that into him. In any event, when her finger touches the trigger, she loses her grip on the gun. A shower of bullets spray into the concrete target wall, only to ricochet in every direction.
    Everyone ducks for cover.
    By the time the gunfire is over, Dominic’s infatuation is quelled. He mumbles some excuse to get the hell out of there.  
    Pucci smirks. She knows the score. But like a cat with a mouse between its claws, she doesn’t mind having a little