Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 149641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 599(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 599(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
“I think it was one of those rich people things.” He was pretty sure Dare’s whole life was about his family name. It seemed to be an awful way to live, but then Ben’s whole life was about justice against one man, so who was he to judge?
Dare was getting a respite with Tasha. He wouldn’t turn her down. If she showed up and offered herself to Dare, he would go with it. He would take everything she was willing to give him.
What would Kara Trent offer Ben? Was she into the same lifestyle as her cousin?
Her nose wrinkled. “That’s sad. Anyway, I should get going.”
She started to pull away, but he put a hand on her wrist. “Your first meeting isn’t for another hour.”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away. “How would you know that?”
Honesty. He used it like the weapon it could be at times. “Because you put your schedule on social media.”
“You looked at my socials? Why?”
He stared at her.
She softened a bit. “If you thought it wasn’t a good idea for Tash and Dare, why would it be better for us?”
He loosened his grip, turning her hand over so he could envelop it in both of his. “Kara, you feel it, too, right? I can’t be the only one to feel this pull.”
She sighed, and her expression held a longing he was almost certain they shared. “I’m like my cousin, and while it seems to be working out for her and Dare, I don’t play with tops who shrink back when I talk about sex. I’ve found that’s an excellent way to get myself in trouble.”
“I wasn’t shrinking back.” He huffed. “Maybe I was. I was thinking about what it cost my friend. Look, if Dare’s hanging out with Tash, then we’re going to be around each other. You want to talk about sex. I can do it. I’d like to lay you out and run my tongue over every inch of your body before I spread your legs wide and force my cock inside you. If you prefer I did that while you’re tied up and vulnerable and helpless to me, I’m more than happy to oblige. If you want to show me that pretty ass and let me spank it before I shove a plug up it to get you ready for anal, I’m willing to do that as well.”
He thought she would blush, but no. Not Kara Trent. Her lips curled up, and she leaned back as though giving the prospect serious consideration.
“Well, that gives me something to think about, doesn’t it?” She slid off the barstool. “I will see you later, Brian, and don’t think that scenario won’t be running through my head while I sit in on the lecture about the new uses for GLP1s. It should make for an interesting session. Until we meet again, Mr. Peters.”
So smooth and silky. She walked away, her hips swinging.
Yeah, he was going to have to do something about her. Likely something deeply perverted.
He watched her until she disappeared down the hall.
He would protect her from Manny. Manny never had to know she existed. She was formidable, but a woman like her would be nothing but a toy to Manny, and he would use her to punish Ben.
He wouldn’t let it happen.
She never had to know the man she was going to sleep with was a spy.
Ben took a deep breath as his cell rang and he saw the code name for the US operative he was working with. Chet. Douchebag, but what would one expect from a dude who thought he was James Bond?
Still, he answered. It was time to get this mission going. If he could catch Manny, he might be able to settle into an easier job.
No matter what, Kara Trent would be hearing from him again.
Chapter Two
Split, Croatia
Six months later
Naturally they sent her.
Ms. Magenta. Maggie. Kara freaking Trent, though he knew none of those were her name. He’d tried to figure out who she was in real life, but the Americans knew how to hide an identity.
“Hello, Ben.” She looked good, but then she always did. It was hard to look bad when you were a nearly six-foot bombshell, with curves for days and a face that could be on any fashion magazine.
She was his fucking wet dream, and didn’t that prove that he could use a whole lot of therapy.
“Maggie.” He’d taken to calling her that after the shit show of an op in Sydney had torn off all their masks.
His sweet, hot, sometimes mean-as-hell pharmaceutical rep turned out to be a CIA plant, and that hadn’t been what put him off her. There had been a piece of him that thrilled at the idea she was in the business. If she was a spy, he didn’t have to be careful with her. She would understand his world. She would know the risks.