A strong hand shoots up and wraps around my forearm, stopping me in my tracks with a controlled and dominant grip. Target Four: Mason Bothwell.
His close-cropped brown hair is messy in an adorable way, and brown eyes hide behind black framed glasses. The black t-shirt he wears fits his strong, lean frame a little too well. His wide chest tapers down to a defined, lean stomach. Low slung jeans hang on his hips and I have a sudden desire to see the way they fit his ass. I just know it’s going to be a beautiful sight. His clothing doesn’t hide the lines of his body. He’s practically artwork. My breath catches, and I let my eyes wander over his body doing some eye fucking of my own. He’s nerdy gorgeous.
My body is tired of all the sexual tension, aching for release after what’s been the longest night.
Instead, I acknowledge the stranger who’s not really a stranger.
“Mason.” I greet him.
“It’s Mouse, actually.” He corrects me. His voice is quiet but smooth. His low tone feels like it brushes along my skin.
“You mean like a nickname?” I wonder why they call him Mouse.
He tilts his head in a semblance of a quiet nod.
“You let the ladies call you Mouse in bed?” I couldn’t imagine yelling that out in the middle of an orgasm.
In the most endearing way possible, his cheeks turn pink.
“It’s… ah, because I’m quiet. You know… in and out of places before anyone realizes I’m even there.” He shrugs sheepishly.
From what I learned from him during my short time stalking him, he’s also a tech nerd who’s obsessive with details. He didn’t speak one word the entire day. The name fits.
“So that’s your power?” I hope he cops to his magical abilities. It’s so much easier than tracking it down myself, albeit much less fun than searching his body for his mark. Naughty visions of stripping him down assault me. What I wouldn’t give to see this man undressed.
I see a few attractive men in one day and suddenly my hormones are on overdrive.
I definitely need to start looking into dating sites. Assassin Mingle, Assassins Only, Plenty of Assassins. That’s a thing right?
He chuckles, almost like he can read my mind. Maybe he can. “No. I’m just quiet.”
I can’t stop myself from antagonizing him further. “We’ll, I’m a screamer.” I give him a sultry wink.
“I’d like to hear that.”
Suddenly, I don’t know who’s antagonizing whom ...
The color in his cheeks is high, but his eyes gleam in the dark; alive with interest. I can’t help the genuine smile that curves my lips in response.
Releasing my wrist, he lets me drop my hand and I re-sheath my knife. Weary from the roller coaster my night has been, I step around him as he scrubs a hand through his hair. So that’s where the messy look comes from. Grinning, I walk into the small kitchenette and open the fridge.
The cold air from the fridge helps cool me down as I envision him buried between my thighs, moaning loudly for him like he wants. That’s a vision I could get behind… in front of… on top of… My nipples harden, but I won’t admit whether it’s from the blast of fridge air or the sexy porno running through my mind.
Mouse enters the kitchen and leans an arm against the fridge, watching me.
“Beer?” I offer.
“No thanks. On the job.” He motions to the room around us, but I know he means me.
I’m the job.
Frustrated, I grab a cold one and pop the top on the scratched laminate countertops that adorn my kitchen.
“Cheers,” I say sarcastically and hold the beer up in the air before chugging half of it in one go.
Amusement sparkles in his eyes.
“How did you get in here anyway? You know this is ridiculously dangerous for you, right?”
