Three
Ten minutes after the asshat FBI agent managed to get me into a room for an examination, I’m walking back down the hallway to Malcolm. And go figure, the asshat is still here. Standing like an armored sentry in all his masculine glory. What’s worse is that I can’t decide what pisses me off more, the fact that he’s still here after getting his way or that I want to find out what he looks like out of his uniform.
Jesus Christ, I need to get laid.
Maybe an angry fuck with the asshat would take care of things. No strings attached, just two adults working off some stress of the job. Because God knows I’m going to have a breakdown when I get home. I’ve been in two other situations where shots have been fired at a scene, but they’ve never been directed at me.
That thought stops me dead in my tracks.
Dead.
Someone out there wanted to kill me.
My breath hitches in my chest and the hallway seems to tilt. A strangled sound leaves my throat without my permission as I reach out to steady myself. Then my knees buckle. And my vision blurs. I exhale heavily as I prepare to meet the floor in an ungrateful heap. Instead, two arms lock around me to hold me up. My hands instinctively grip whomever it is. And then I’m quickly lifted into those arms and carried off as my head falls back on my shoulders.
“Find me a bed,” the agent growls. “She’s going into shock.”
Time passes without my knowledge. I hear the medical team speaking and I know what they’re saying but comprehension is beyond me. Finally, things go quiet. But I’m not alone. There’s pressure on my right hand. And I hear someone else breathing. With a great amount of effort, I open my eyes.
And my breath catches again at the sight before me.
It’s the FBI agent. His face is hovering over mine and it’s etched with concern.
For me.
“How do you feel?” he asks softly.
“I…I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. “This is all new for you.”
“And it’s not for you?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
My jaw drops. His grip on my hand tightens. And I ask the obvious.
“How many times have you been shot?”
He chuckles at this. And I frown while I wait for his response.
“Do you want the count of the bullets that hit my vest? Or my flesh?”
For whatever reason, tears prick my eyes. Prompting the agent’s brow to furrow as he gently brushes his free hand over my cheek. The contact causes my breath to leave me in a soft exhale. And even though I have a million more questions, just one more leaves me.
“What’s your name?”
He grins at this. A very sexy, mischievous grin. Then he answers me.
“Pitbull.”
My jaw drops. And his grin widens into a panty-melting smile.
“Stop fucking with me,” I snap.
“I am not.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine,” he nods. “I’ll prove it to you.”
He straightens a bit and shouts someone’s name. But he never takes his eyes off me. In a few seconds, another agent walks in.
“Agent Bant, tell Miss Lorna what my name is.”
“Pitbull, sir.”
“Bullshit,” I snap again as I look at him.
“It’s not bullshit, ma’am,” he grins. “That’s all any of us call him.”
“Thank you, Agent Bant,” Pitbull nods.
Without another word, he walks out. And I look back at…Pitbull.
“Ok, so what’s your real name?” I ask him.
“What makes you think Pitbull isn’t my real name?” he chuckles.
“Because no mother is that cruel,” I scoff.
He smiles wide. Then he leans in close again and I’m stupid enough to let my eyes drop to his very kissable lips. Something that I’m certain he notices as his fingers flex on my cheek. When he responds, it’s the last thing I ever expected.
“I’ve never told a woman my real name before.”
“Why?”
“Because I‘ve never wanted a woman to know.”
My brow furrows. But he continues before I can question him again.
“But I think I want you to know.”
The tone of his voice betrays him. And it makes my entire body shiver with need.
“Why?” I breathe.
“Give me one night and I’ll tell you.”
“What?” I gasp.
“You heard me, Lorna,” he almost growls. “Give me one night.”
My breathing increases as he waits for an answer. And I give it on a breathless gasp.
“Okay.”