Page 18 of The Silencer

“Hmm,” he says, and my balls tingle at his voice. He sounds disapproving and delicious.

“Anyways, what was his name? I’ve never seen him before. The big man with the shaved head and large biceps.”

The muscle in Anthony’s jaw jumps again. “Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

He doesn’t answer for a long minute. Finally, he bites out, “Teddy.”

“Teddy?” I ask, my eyebrows rising. “Well, that is not what I was expecting. Although, he is a bit like a teddy bear. A very muscly one.”

Anthony huffs and then turns his gaze out to the horizon.

“You’re not to flirt with the bodyguards.”

“Who said I was flirting?” I ask.

“Everyone.”

I snort at that and fiddle with the blanket around my legs.

“I’m just friendly. Those men are horny bastards to think I’m flirting.”

Anthony’s jaw pops again, and it takes all that’s within me not to lean over and lick him. Goddamn, he’s delectable.

“Stay away from the men in my employ. You’re not to fuck them.”

“Oh my god, Anthony. I’m not going to fuck them. I mean, they are tempting, all hot and big. They could lift me up and…”

Anthony shifts next to me, and my words trail off. “How about you come with me to my office and I get this applied. I have shit to do.”

“But the sunset,” I halfheartedly protest. I mean, he’s offering for me to go into his office, which I’ve been dying to do, so who am I to refuse?

“There will be one tomorrow.”

“I mean, I could be dead tomorrow. This could be the last one I see.”

“You’re not dying.”

I sigh, realizing I’ve lost this battle, and push myself upright. My body aches and twinges, but I try not to show it.

“Lead the way,” I say, wrapping the blanket around me and following after Anthony’s strong form. God, he has a nice butt. It flexes and moves in those custom-made slacks. I want to peel them apart at the seams and take a nice long look at his ass.

“Do you get your pants tailor-made?”

“Yes.”

“Probably spend a nice fortune on them, huh?”

“I guess it would seem like that to some, yes.” He unlocks the office door, the one I’ve hovered outside of so often and tried to open. The click of the lock resounds around us, and a moment later, it swings open.

“Right in here,” he says.

I stop and stare.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowed.

“Anthony, I don’t think you understand. I’ve been waiting to get a peek into your office for months. This is monumental. I need a moment to contain myself.”

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