CALISTA
I would pay good money to watch these two men fuck.
Vector shifts beside me, the smirk crossing his face identical to my own. We’re watching Christopher go up against the brains of our operation, the meticulous villain who’s got a good few inches over the furious Brit.
Dark and light do pair well together, don’t they?
“Ten bucks says Ken doll swings first.”
“Oh, that’s a given.” Humour leaks into my voice, “The better question is how long will it take?”
Vector grunts, “Three minutes. Tops.”
I snicker, watching the man in question jab a finger into Marlin’s designer suit. The latter looks unfazed as the international fugitive leans in, his brows pinched tight together.
“So, you’re telling me.” Christopher’s growl fills the room, “I almost fell into a tank of eels because you wanted to see how I hold up under pressure? Is this a fucking joke?”
“I found that evening to be quite delightful.” Marlin tilts his head, a smirk teasing the corners of his mouth, “Were you not entertained?”
“I’m about to be pretty fucking entertained when I break your perfect nose with my fist.”
“My features are perfectly proportionate, thank you for noticing.”
The taunt has Christopher letting out another growl, his hands curling into fists as he grabs the silky material of Marlin’s suit.
“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”
Dark eyes flash in our direction, the frustration coming off him in plumes.
“Dress shirts and Melody St. James.” I tap my lips thoughtfully, “Although not specifically in that order.”
“What?”
“She’s referring to the two things I care about in this town.” Marlin smiles, his teeth shining like a shark about to feast, “I’ve been known to leave a man rather...incapacitatedwhen either of those belongings are touched. It’s a matter of possession, you see.”
Christopher stares at him, “A matter of possession.”
“I reserve the right to my trophies, something I’m sure a man like you can understand.” Violet eyes crinkle ever-so slightly, “Particularly when a female is involved.”
All three men turn and look at me.
Oh, please.
“Boys and their toys. Such a shame you never know when a game is being played.”
I lift a brow, staring directly at my old acquaintance. He chuckles softly, his smile spreading with recognition and a sense of pride that hasn’t diminished since his little plaything flipped his chessboard upside down.
“Some games are not meant to be won.”
It’s Christopher who speaks up, his eyes trained on my face. I study him right back, noting the windblown hair and black t-shirt that seems to be the only item in his wardrobe.
Dark stubble lines the border of his jaw, the kind of stubble I would love to trace with my tongue. He looks rumpled in those jeans, messy in a way that makes you want to drag him back to bed and demand the cosmic fuck his presence exudes.
It’s been a while since I’ve taken a man to bed and I’m curious to see how this one measures up.
“Before these two start fucking, can I ask why the hell am Ihere?”
Marlin rolls his eyes, his displeasure of team meetings echoing loud and clear.
