Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Before he could manipulate them, Grace growled, “Leave ’em.”
Mirage closed his eyes and rested his forehead there instead.
His partner wanted to feel the tension, the pressure of the mission that lay ahead.
Don’t do this to us, Grace. Not now.
Grace
Now that Grace had tasted Mirage, he was starved for more of him every minute of every hour.
He needed more time to solidify their bond that didn’t take place on the battlefield.
Grace knew that position, had mastered it, and wasn’t afraid of it.
It was this he was terrified of losing.
Mirage was against his back, his heart beating calmly, his touch confident and reassuring.
Grace groaned with unsated need.
He reached around his back, gripped Mirage’s lean hip, and pulled him closer.
Mirage was a couple of inches shorter, so his cock was against the lower part of his ass. The harder his cock became, the more it nudged his balls.
Grace’s fatigued muscles tightened and coiled from the stimulation.
Mirage grabbed his bottle of bodywash and squeezed some onto his palm.
Grace’s pulse pounded to the rhythm of an erotic soundtrack, every cell vibrating with energy and anticipation.
He kept his arms up and widened his stance while Mirage washed his body.
With each tender stroke across his chest, Mirage released the emotional weight bearing down on him.
He stared at the water circling the drain, watching his stress rinse away.
Mirage had him wrapped in his arms, clutching him tight against his front. He flexed his hips every few strokes as Mirage worked his magic lower and lower until his lubricated hands were gripping his shaft.
The juxtaposition of Mirage’s slippery, roughened hand pumping his hard dick made him shiver despite how hot the water was.
He dug his blunt fingertips into the tiles, his orgasm cresting so fast he thought he’d climb the goddamn wall.
Grace didn’t care how wrecked he already looked. The steam was thick enough to hide him.
He pushed his ass back against Mirage’s pelvis, silently begging for more, for him to thrust harder…deeper.
Mirage moaned, his breaths coming in short bursts against the back of his neck.
“Not right now, Grace. I won’t go inside you while your mind is shifting toward battle. I want you calm when I make you fall all the way in love with me.”
Grace came so hard at the thought of Mirage’s cock sliding inside him he almost dropped to his knees.
Mirage pressed his palm into the center of Grace’s back and forced his chest against the warm tiles.
Grace rolled his eyes behind his closed lids when Mirage began jerking himself, making the head of his cock nudge under his balls with each tug.
Mirage’s strength and the control he had over Grace’s body while he took his pleasure made Grace’s damaged heart and soul his to own.
Mirage
Mirage and Grace left their forbidden relationship on the thirty-eighth floor and brought their war-ready minds into the strategy room.
The hub was a high-tech playground.
The air was thick with the scent of coffee and stale air from too many electronics.
Monitors of all sizes lined the walls, displaying a dizzying array of data and images.
Files and maps were stacked high on the tables, and in the center was a holographic projection of a three-dimensional high-rise building.
Leaders from intel, ballistics, and shadow teams stood staring with grim faces as they discussed the latest intelligence reports.
To Mirage’s surprise, Ex and Meridian’s handler, Corvo, was in the midst of it all.
He and Grace knew of the quick-thinking genius and had seen him around once or twice, but they’d never needed to converse or interact with him.
Instead of allowing his mind to stray, Mirage stood beside Spectre and stared at a map he was focused on while Grace leaned against the wall, glaring at the complexity of the structure they were about to infiltrate.
There were candid photos of a man with a permanent frown, bushy eyebrows, and a thick five-o’clock shadow around his chin standing on a dock that looked unregulated.
Other images showed him monitoring a large shipment of cargo being unloaded by men wearing black fatigues and machine guns strapped to their backs.
“Browns, this is a two-target elimination,” Spectre started. “Lee Woyashi, leader of the Kenjuka Clan. And Zelmir Benton.”
Mirage recognized Woyashi’s name from the CIA’s and FBI’s most wanted lists, but Zelmir Benton was new.
Anthony from intel elaborated.
“Twenty-four-year-old chemist and explosives engineer Zelmir Benton is wanted for two acts of treason and a multitude of international crimes. Targeted for acts of espionage and providing weapons of mass destruction to enemies of the United States. He’s almost as fuckin’ brilliant as you, Mirage.”
I doubt that.
“He’s Latin American, born in Pennsylvania, but he’s traveled abroad most of his life for school and research. Both parents are nuclear physicists for the government, with PhDs in solid-state physics.”
Mirage glanced at Grace to see him staring at the scrolling images on the large screen.
“Zelmir is a world-renowned scholar of the Chinese Academy of Sciences Institute of Physics. He’s the only scientist to successfully design a portable thermonuclear weapon with a two-hundred-megaton destruction range.”