Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 146392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
She settled her head against his chest. “It’s all fucked up. I don’t know what Tash is going to do. She’s in love with him.”
With her target? That wasn’t a smart thing, but then he’d been in love with a woman he couldn’t have for a long time. “Something tells me my aunt and uncle are already working their magic. Are you okay? Did we scare you?”
“Well, I was scared Kala was going to kill someone. I think she took down two of your men, and Coop got a couple, too. Tristan was up with me, helping me get the lights back on and trying to figure a way out.”
No, Tristan had stayed to protect her, and that was exactly what he should have done. “It’s all okay now. Uncle Ian will take over, and Chet can suck a dick, for all I care.”
“Isn’t he your boss right now?”
“Nope, that’s that asshole Mike. Chet is nothing more than an Agency hack, and he’ll loathe the fact that my uncle will insist on me sitting in on the meeting we’re about to have. But I don’t care. It means I get to be near you. I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.” Her head tilted up, those big brown eyes kicking him right in the gut. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it kind of turned his stomach to think he’d ever been with anyone but her.
He’d never been with her. He couldn’t trust himself not to fuck it all up.
He stared at her for a long moment, the air between them heating with unnamed emotion, and that was when she went up on her toes and her lips almost met his.
This. This was the part he didn’t want.
Fuck it all. It was his dream, and when he woke up he would have to deal with the fact that a mercenary thought he was good target practice for his cattle prod.
In the dream, he met her lips halfway. In the dream, he didn’t let his fear rule him. In the dream, he became everything she needed.
Her loving Master.
Having to watch her with his friends nearly killed him, even when he knew there wasn’t anything sexual about it. That wasn’t the way it would be between them. He wasn’t going to spank her and tie her up and leave her aftercare to Kala Taggart. Fuck, no.
He was going to spank that sweet ass, tie her up, and fuck her until neither one of them could see straight. He would keep her in a privacy room until the club closed, and then he would bring her out and they would have the whole place to themselves. Eventually he would let her run around in her own sweet skin, everyone’s eyes on her so she knew how gorgeous she was, but it would take him a while. He was possessive when it came to Lou.
In the dream he didn’t step back and shake his head. He didn’t say, “Baby, this is still not a good idea. Nothing’s changed.”
He kissed her, his hands cupping her cheeks and sliding into her hair so he could twist it and deepen the kiss, moving his tongue inside her mouth. Hers reached out, tentative at first, and then dancing against his own. He could feel his cock swell, lengthen, getting ready for that moment when he finally, finally found some fucking relief.
Pain made him shudder, and in the dream he dropped his hands, losing Lou. She looked at him, tears in her eyes.
The way she had that night.
“Who is The Jester?”
He didn’t want this. He wanted Lou. He tried so hard to hold on to the dream, but pain flared again, this time to his back.
“Sergeant Taggart, I have to insist. Who is the arms dealer known as The Jester?” a heavily accented voice asked.
TJ groaned as he forced his eyes open. They’d mostly beaten his torso, so he still had full range of vision. Woohoo. That meant he could see the tall, lean man who was torturing him.
What he couldn’t see was the man asking the questions. He managed to stay out of sight. He was a dark, deep voice constantly asking one thing.
Who is The Jester?
This was the part where if he was in a movie, he would start in with name, rank, and serial number.
Instead, he did what he was now trained to do by the Agency. Which was talk and play as dumb as he possibly could. “Jester? Like in medieval times?”
It wasn’t hard since he knew very little. All he knew was that twenty-four hours ago he’d been hanging with some friends in a bar in a town outside of the Ramstein Air Base in Germany, waiting to catch a ride back to the States. He’d spent weeks debriefing after the clusterfuck situation in Australia had left his team without a CO. One minute he’d been drinking a beer and the next he’d woken up god only knew where and this fucker was treating him like a punching bag.