Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“My, my, Mr. Master. If I didn’t know you had the gun in your holster, and not your pocket…”
I lean in and drag my lips across the shell of her ear. Inhale her. Close my eyes and relish this brief moment in time when everything’s perfect. “Behave yourself, woman. You move one more inch and I’ll have no choice but to fuck you right here, right now, against this wall, and then we’ll be late.” I shake my head with mock regret. “And I’ll have to punish you for that.”
Her eyes roll back and her head falls to the side, giving me full access to the creamy skin at her neck and her full cleavage. I smack her gorgeous ass, and she gives a little yelp, then a moan. “That’s supposed to stop me?”
A knock sounds at the door. With a groan I pull away from her and adjust myself. “Yeah?”
“It’s me, boss.” Claude, tall, with a shaved head he’s had since his time in the service, comes in with a matte black box in his hand. He’s dressed like me in a charcoal-gray suit custom-made to hide our harnesses and weapons.
“Oh, you brought us pressies,” Violet says, her brilliant amethyst eyes lighting up. She loves weapons like other women love jewelry.
I take the box from Claude. “Give it here. No other man gives my woman weapons.”
He grins at me. I open the box. Nestled on the left are sleek black earpieces with mics, but on the right are new, custom-made thin Tantos. I take the slim one made for Violet and give it to her. The silver blade of the throwing knife sparkles like jewels in her slender hand.
I made her learn to shoot because a knife can only go so far, but Violet’s real skill lies with a blade. “Show me, baby. Target, ten o’clock.”
She wields the knife with the skill of a master, the silver blade flashing in the overhead lighting. She takes her position gracefully like a dancer, and with a flick of her wrist sends the knife soaring into a target we have on the wall for this purpose. It stabs like a dart, straight on the mark.
Claude whistles. “She could slice the hair off my balls and leave ‘em intact,” he says.
“You keep your fucking balls away from her or there will be no intact,” I mutter.
Violet grins. “Aw, babe, I love when you get all territorial on me. Gonna piss on me before we hit Monstraut?”
I reach for her, drag her over to me, and stab my fingers in her hair. “Don’t tempt me.”
“And, that’s my cue,” Claude mutters. “I’ll leave you two to suit up and see you tonight, then.” The door clicks shut behind him.
“Aw, honey, you keep embarrassing the children.” Her eyes twinkle at me. “Now, leave me alone so I can fix my hair. We’ll never get there in time.”
“Your hair’s perfect as is.”
Still slightly damp, it hangs about her shoulders in gentle waves.
“You like the beach wave look?”
“I like every look.”
“You’d like me with cellulite and stretch marks after babies?” she asks, her head tilted. Though her tone’s teasing, there’s a hint of authenticity in her tone I don’t miss.
Still, I heard the word babies and my mind’s still there, not quite sure what to make of a concept like that. She laughs, a musical, addictive laugh I’d pay good money to hear over and over again.
I lace my hands about her hips and drag her closer. “Of course. Even then you’d be gorgeous.”
“Oh? And what if I got into a car accident and they had to amputate my legs or something?”
“Even then, baby.”
“What if I—”
I’ve had enough of this game. “Violet. I don’t like this game. I like you the way you are right here, right now, and don’t want to imagine you hurt or damaged.”
“Alright, alright,” she says. Getting up on her tiptoes, she kisses me. “Let’s go. God, I’m starving, though.”
“Good. We’re getting dinner first.”
Her eyes light up. “Are we?”
“Yep. I finally got you out of yoga pants and a tank top and I’m not missing my chance.”
She gives me a lopsided grin. “I’d get out of those anytime you ask, Mr. Master.”
I slide my hand along the small of her back. “I’m aware, Miss Price. An office perk I like to take full advantage of.”
My phone buzzes with a text. I glance at the screen.
Joe: They need us there early. Ready to leave in ten?
“Motherfucker.”
“Uh oh. Nothing like thwarted plans to bring out the big gun curse words. What’s up?”
“No time for dinner. We need to go.”
Violet pouts for about three seconds before she shrugs, turns, and reaches for the dorm-sized fridge I keep in my room. She opens it and snags two protein shakes. I catch one mid-air when she tosses it to me.