“Yeah. Probably will. On our date, I’ll crawl under the table and suck you off.”
My eyes narrow, and one side of his mouth curls up.
“I still owe you, and you love it. Secretly, deep down.” His gaze hits the clock. It’s past midnight. “Admit it, tell me the truth.”
“Will this count for my deep, dark secret for tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
I mull it over, running a hand across my jaw, examining the truth in my mind. I shouldn’t tell him. I should keep it hidden.
Do it. Tell him the truth.
And I’m too weak, too tired not to.
I scoot down farther beneath the sheets and put my cock back where it belongs.
“Fine, yes. I love it.”
“Knew it,” he says, and then pulls the comforter back over his face, leaving only his eyes and blue hair showing.
And then he, once again, falls asleep within minutes, leaving me to stare at the monster smirking at me from his cage.
11
WYLDER
Neo folds his arms over his chest with a scowl. “I’m not getting in that death trap.”
My lips twitch. Taunting someone who assassinates others as part of his job is fine, but stepping foot on a helicopter is apparently where Neo draws the line. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“Fuck off it is.” He pulls out his phone and taps at the screen for a few moments. “Ah-ha, see? Thirteen helicopter-related deaths last year. Safe, my ass.”
I waver. This is my chance. He’s giving me the perfect out. If he won’t get on the helicopter, then the date is called off. I will have fulfilled The Firm’s end of the bargain without actually having to see it through. It’s such an easy option.
Instead, I find myself plucking his phone from his hands. I search another question before turning the screen back to him. “There. Almost fifty thousand people died from tripping. Your odds of dying are far higher on the ground than in a helicopter.”
“Why’d you tell me that?” He snatches his phone back and pockets it with a scowl. “Now I’ll be stressed just walking around.”
I take his elbow, steering him toward the helicopter. As we drawcloser, I have to raise my voice to be heard over the whirring blades. “If I promise to catch you, will you stop whining so we can go?”
“You’re going to catch me if we crash?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “If you trip, which we established is far more likely to happen.”
“I’m holding you to that.” He glares at the step. “How am I supposed to get into this thing? It’s fucking high.”
Sighing, I put my hand on his ass to boost him. I pause, the curve of his rear oddly fascinating. My fingers clench, marveling at the feel. The round, hard muscle. It feels so…right under my palm. Is he wearing a plug again? If I move my hand slightly, will I feel it?
“Are you finished groping me? I think the pilot is ready to go.”
I swallow hard as I realize I’ve just been standing here feeling him up. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Nothing. This is who you are.
“Yes. Grab onto the handle, and I’ll boost you.”
When he’s safely in the fuselage, he waggles his brows at me. “If we don’t die on this date, I’ll let you feel me up later all you want. Maybe you’ll see what I have hidden on me…in me.”
