Chapter 1 #2
“Sorry, but I’m not looking for that kind of present,” I said, voice smooth.
“Oh? You sure about that? You followed me in here after all,” he countered, twisting his wrist subtly, as though testing whether I’d let go.
I didn’t.
I let the silence stretch until his lashes fluttered—whether in real or feigned submission, I couldn’t tell. Then I released him, but not before dragging my thumb across the pulse in his palm. He was steady, too steady, like someone who’d trained themselves to keep calm under fire.
“Tell me something, Ro.” I let his name roll slowly off my tongue, savoring its taste. “You always this generous with your time, or am I special?”
The corner of his mouth curved. “You’re special. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I hummed, pretending to mull it over. “And what makes me so special, babydoll?”
Interest, or maybe curiosity, flitted across his features—gone in a millisecond.
He leaned forward quickly, covering the slip with a kiss.
His mouth was soft, practiced, and he poured heat into it like a weapon.
But I’d been kissed by enough people with ulterior motives to know when I was being played.
I let him kiss me, then nipped his bottom lip, pulling back just enough to murmur, “You’ve got talent, I’ll give you that. But seduction without conviction? Amateur mistake.”
His eyes flashed with irritation. “Maybe I’m just not used to men who talk so much.”
I chuckled lowly. “Then you haven’t been with men, babydoll. You’ve been with boys.”
That landed. His hand tightened in my shirt, and for the first time, his composure cracked into something raw. He moved fast—pressing me back, sliding a thigh between mine, his free hand gliding toward the hidden sheath under his shorts. Smooth, practiced, and almost invisible.
Almost.
My grip closed around his wrist again, harder this time. His eyes widened fractionally when he realized I’d caught him.
“Now,” I whispered, turning his hand outward so he couldn’t reach the blade, “we’re getting somewhere.” The bones and ligaments in his wrist shifted from my tightening hold. If I wanted, they would snap so easily.
The room went still, humming with tension thick enough to choke on. His chest rose against mine, fast and shallow, but his face stayed calm, lips curving in a dangerous smile.
“You’re sharper than you look,” he breathed.
“And you’re sloppier than you think.” I tilted his chin up with my free hand, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Rule number one, Ro: never underestimate your target. Especially when the target’s me.”
His lashes lowered, a mockery of demureness. “And what are you going to do now, Mr. Target? Kill me?”
I smiled. “No, not tonight. You’re far too entertaining.”
I released him deliberately, leaning back into the couch like I hadn’t just caught him reaching for steel. That rattled him more than holding on would’ve. He stayed there, perched on my lap, caught between retreat and defiance.
I raised a hand, brushing a lock of hair from his face, slow and unhurried. “Run along now, Ro. Tonight’s a freebie. But if you come back—” I let my thumb graze his lower lip, “—come back with some more training.”
Ro gritted his teeth and hissed, “I have more than enough training.”
Slipping a hand underneath his top, I caressed his abdomen, feeling a lot more strength there than one would believe just by looking at him.
“Do you now?”
“You’re just—off-putting,” Ro spat out, making me laugh.
“Off-putting? Ouch.” I stroked up his body, brushing gently against his nipples. He flinched at the sensation, but still refused to leave my lap. “You’re playing a dangerous game, doll. Stay any longer and I’ll have to unwrap my gift.”
Ro’s breath hitched at my words, his eyes narrowed.
“Maybe that’s what I want,” he whispered, hips rocking forward just enough to test me, to see if I’d snap the leash or let him play me into the corner.
I didn’t move, didn’t flinch. My hand stayed flat against his chest, my thumb dragging lazy circles that made his composure twitch.
“You’re too young to know what you want,” I murmured, voice low, gravel under velvet. “And too reckless to know the cost of asking for it.”
Ro leaned in, lips grazing my jaw, before he nipped at the skin there. “Old men love to think they see everything. Maybe you just don’t want to admit I’ve already got you where I want you.”
I laughed—a sharp, humorless sound that made him stiffen. I caught his chin between my fingers again, forcing him to look at me. “If I were where you wanted me, babydoll, you wouldn’t still be trying this hard.”
His eyes sparked with rage. His nails dragged lightly down my chest, teasing at my shirt buttons, the kind of touch meant to distract. I let him, watching, waiting. Then I caught his wrist once more, squeezing until his knuckles blanched.
With skin as fair as his, he was sure to have bruises come tomorrow. A bracelet of sorts to remember me by.
“You think you’re running this game.” I leaned close, lips brushing the outer shell of his ear, letting my words sink in like teeth.
“But here’s the truth—you walked into this room with me, and sat your tight little ass down in my lap.
And right now, you’re still breathing only because I’m intrigued. ”
That got him. His breath stuttered, the first real crack in his armor. He covered it quickly, lips curving again, but too sharp, too brittle.
“You’re dangerous,” he said softly, almost admiring, though I could taste the steel under it. “Aren’t you?”
“Mm.” My free hand slid higher, palming the back of his neck, holding him close. “And you’re beautiful. Dangerous and beautiful rarely ends well.” I smiled lazily. “Now tell me, Ro, did whoever sent you not warn you about what I do?”
“Evidently not.”
“Hm. That wasn’t very nice of them, was it?” I purred, cupping his ass through his shorts and giving it a hard squeeze. Ro let out a small gasp and dug his nails into my shoulders. “At least we can still get something out of our… spontaneous encounter.”
Ro bit his lip, the blush blooming across his cheeks making him appear frostbitten.
“Word of advice, babydoll—don’t work for men who send you on suicide missions.”
Ro frowned, a crackle of anger reappearing. “It wasn’t a suicide mission. I’m the best.”
I chuckled, working my hands underneath the waistband of his shorts and groping his bare ass.
The more I touched him, the more he seemed to unravel.
“The best? That’s a bit hard to believe, given that I immediately recognized you for what you are, even gave you a chance to leave, and yet you’re still here. ”
He huffed, “This isn’t how it usually goes.”
I slid a finger down his crease, getting a whimper out of him as I rubbed him dry. “I also find that hard to believe. I have no doubt your regular jobs have all kinds of men feeling you up. Have you ever killed someone while their dick was inside of you?”
Ro growled at me, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever you say, babydoll.”
“I’m not a whore!” he suddenly snapped.
I raised an eyebrow at his reaction. “I wasn’t saying that,” I promised, pulling my hands out of his shorts. Ro’s jaw was tight as he looked at me warily. Rubbing his hips gently, I said, “I would never call you that. I promise.”
“It’s fine. You don’t even know me,” Ro said, voice steady but softer now, as if he needed to convince himself more than me.
“No,” I agreed, leaning back against the couch, calm as a loaded gun. “I don’t. And you don’t know me.”
Then, with deliberate grace, he slid off my lap, smoothing his sequined top back into place.
He lingered a moment longer, an unreadable expression on his face, then turned for the door. His hips still swayed, sharp and seductive, his heels clicking against the floor, but I’d seen the tremor beneath his cool exterior.
He paused for a second, his hand on the door handle. Without looking back, he said, “I’ll get to know you better next time, Wesley.”
Without waiting for my response, he opened the door and walked out, letting it latch closed behind him.