I shake my head, trying to escape this gnawing feeling. As I look out at the patio, I’m impressed with our work.
The space feels like a warm escape from Sarajevo’s chilly March evening. M has brought out his tall heaters, which glow softly around the space. Music is also drifting from the surround sound system—easy, feel-good songs—which is ironic, because highly trained assassins are coming over.
The outdoor table is overflowing with Bosnian comfort food: plates of cevapi, warm burek, little bowls of ajvar and kajmak, grilled veggies, and fresh bread1. To amplify the feeling of a good evening, there is also a bar area, inviting soft lounge seating,and potted greenery scattered throughout the outdoor area. The vibe was simple: warmth from the heaters and that early-spring feeling that things were beginning to thaw.
I don’t know what I should expect from M’s team, even though I have been hearing about them a lot the last couple of months.
“They are here, baby,” M says to me as he kisses the top of my head. Arousal is what I would typically feel around him, but now I’m feeling something more dangerous than that. More potent.
Love.
Damn.
“Hey.” He turns my body toward him and inspects my face. “Is everything okay?” he asks me sincerely. I know I told him a couple of days ago that I love him, and I meant it, but now that love is all-consuming. My lip is quivering slightly, and it’s not because of the cold.
“Yes, of course. Just nervous because I’m about to meet your posse,” I lie to him, partly. He brings his lips to me and kisses me. This is such a stark contrast to how we have been fucking—this is gentle. He caresses my lips with the tip of his tongue and starts opening them. We tease each other before exploring each other’s mouths.
“Gorgeous, you have an ugly engineer on your face,” a voice says from across the patio. I look at the five people standing there, all smiling. M has shown me pictures of them, and I remember them by their names.
Sara and Adam are probably the hottest couple I have ever seen—both are physically built as if they belong on the cover of a fashion magazine with their black hair.
Hana is petite, with killer curves and long, brown, wavy hair.
And then there are Oliver and Josh. Oliver has blond hair that reaches his shoulders, and it matches his mischievous look. While Oliver is wild, Josh is more reserved but still hot. He is fucking tall and muscular, with short brown hair.
Different individuals with one common trait: dangerous.
Oliver is the first one to come to us. He flips M the middle finger, then hugs me.
“If you ever want to experience something wild, give Josh and me a call.” This flirt winks at me while putting his arm around my shoulders and looking at M while wiggling his eyebrows.
“Do you have a death wish, Oliver?” M asks him, his mouth hanging open. Oliver doesn’t move until Josh is standing beside me and throwing daggers at Oliver.
“Let her go, otherwise I will kill you myself,” Josh says to the endless flirt.
“Sweetheart, who is going to f—?” Josh grabs a knife from the nearby table and points it at Oliver. The man doesn’t even flinch, and when I look around at M’s friends, it all seems normal to them. Oliver lets go of my shoulder and moves toward the table with the delicious goodies.
“I’m sorry.” Josh offers his hand to me, and I take it. “My name is Josh, an old friend of M’s.”
“Nice to meet you. I need some stories from your days in Cambridge.”
“Oh, you will.” Josh goes away to join Oliver, and then it’s Hana’s turn to introduce herself. She looks me up and down and gives me an approving look.
“Now I know why M wants you all to himself.” She crooks her finger at me, and I’m impressed by how forthcoming she is. “I’m kidding! Come on, hug me!” She laughs, and I graciously step into her embrace.
“M has told me many great things about you, Hana,” I tell her. She removes herself from our hug and smiles at M.
“Likewise. We’ll talk later. Sara and Adam are dying to introduce themselves to you.” I look at Sara, and she is practically giddy. I don’t even need to say something; she already has her arms around me.
“Let the woman breathe, little raven,” Adam tells her while putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I wanted to let her know that she is more than welcome in our little group.” She looks at me and then at M while wiggling her finger.
“If you fuck this up, I’ll rearrange your guts with the help of Isa.” M holds up his hands.
“Who is Isa?” I ask her.
“He is our neurosurgeon friend in Antwerp. You’ll meet that group as well down the road.” She returns her attention toward Adam. “Say hello, Adam, she won’t bite.” Her significant other extends his hand, and I accept it before releasing it.
