Page 38 of Obsession

“Nothing, sir.” She flustered, not wanting to vocalize what she suspected—that the man who’d taken, tied, and fucked her had gunshot scarring on his otherwise flawless body. “It doesn’t matter.”

“On the contrary, it does.” His blue eyes pierced her. “I want to know what you’re thinking, and I do not want you lying to me.”

“Okay, fine.” She sighed. “It looks like you were shot.” Tension gripped her tummy as she relented, her face heating as time lengthened without a reply.

“I was shot more than once.” In the end, his expression softened as though he was recalling something he’d rather forget. “I’m lucky to be alive.”

Chapter Fifteen

Imparted Pain

Tucker

“What happened?”

If he didn’t know better, Tucker might have thought it was actual concern he saw flashing in Ella’s eyes, but how could it be?

She didn’t know him. She didn’t care. After all, she was the one bound to the end of his bed. He pulled his gaze away from her unblemished skin and pebbling nipples.

“Sir?” She shuffled forward on her knees, tightening the ponytail entwined with his expensive silk. “How did you get shot? Was there a crime?”

Crime? Briefly, his brow creased. She either thinks I’m a victim or a perpetrator. He didn’t have to be a genius to guess which.

“I was on duty.” His gaze landed on her again.

It was taking every ounce of his effort to resist the urge to reach for her, to goad her tightening nipples into long points he could suckle or force his twitching cock back into her mouth.

Ella was the very epitome of temptation.

“Duty?” She gulped. “Are you a cop?”

Her voice rang out with disbelief, although he couldn’t blame her. Policing had never been his style. No doubt it was why he was struggling to manage her pretty ass. If he spent time with a subject, he softened to their plight. It was also why he’d been such a good anonymous assassin. He never had to know them. Only swoop in and do the job.

“No.” He forced himself to sit on the bed beside her. Anything to distract from the overwhelming inducement of enjoying her incredible body again. “Military.”

“You’re a soldier?” Her eyes lit up as if a penny had just dropped.

“Was,” he corrected. “Special forces.” Though really, his unit had only been dispatched when his superiors decided targets needed to be taken out. There was nothing special about it.

“Wow.” A line appeared on her flawless brow, and he wanted to laugh at her shock.

Yes, he’d been a soldier. Yes, he’d been paid to take orders and kill on command. It wasn’t something he was especially proud of, but it had helped to make him the man he was.

“And someone shot you.”

“People shot at me all the time.” Tucker had developed a reputation for being impossible to hit until that day in the bunker… “But only one person ever succeeded. The bastard managed three shots.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was a whisper. “I’ve never been around guns.” She fidgeted, seemingly even more irritated by the talk of weapons than she was with the bondage. “I don’t like them.”

“I agree.” He nodded. “That’s why I don’t have them here. I only used them for work when I was ordered to.”

“That sounds intense.” She managed a tiny smile, although he could tell how painful she was finding her current position.

Tucker had been held in similar stress positions when he was captured and held as a prisoner. But there’d been no one on hand to offer him homemade food and orgasms.

“It was.” His focus darted to the largest of the three welts left by the bullet at his shoulder. He still didn’t know how Collins had dragged him out of that hellhole, yet they’d both made it to fight another day. Tucker had spent months recovering. That was when he’d uncovered Collins’ true intentions… “Now all I have are the scars.”

“We all have those, I think.” Her tone was suddenly sad. “It’s just not all of them are visible.”

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