Page 103 of The Butterfly Killer

The guy thought about it.

Burns leaned forward and licked the head. The guy shivered. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

The guy sucked air through his teeth. “Shit. Okay.”

Burns waited for the guy to reach over him and unlock the handcuffs with a key that’d been tied around his neck. When the cuffs were off, it was a relief to have mobility of his arms again. He hissed as a slight sharp pain went through both arms, but it was followed by a good stretch.

“Now, get to sucking.” The guy grabbed Burns by the hair and shoved his face into his crotch.

Burns had no choice but to right himself by grabbing ahold of the man’s hips. The man’s dick pressed against his cheek, smearing his face with pre-cum.

His fingertips grazed the top of the gun. It was there, so close.

But the cock was closer. It burned his skin and for a second, he did want to suck it. He wanted it down his throat. He wanted the man to fuck his face. As he imagined it, he remember Mercer, his calm facade and wondered if Mercer would approve. What would he do if he found out Burns had actually gone through it?

The man’s impatient grunt dissipated his thoughts.

He grabbed the gun and in a split second, he had the barrel pointed at the man’s face.

The man froze.

Burns rose to his feet. “Turn around.”

The man slowly followed the order.

“Now take off your pants.”

27

Mercer had wonderedif Burns was going to hate him after they were done. He had no doubts that Burns wouldn’t do what he’d inferred. Burns might have been a rule follower, but he was also so good at following orders. Did he usually follow Mercer’s order specifically? Not all the time, but that was why Mercer had become very skilled atmakingBurns follow his orders without realizing he was.

It had also crossed his mind that Burns might go above and beyond with his task. Was he intrigued that it didn’t make him jealous? He was possessive with his property only to a point, but he thought the same would be applied to Burns. It was something to think about. However, it would have to wait after the threat of their lives was over and dealt with.

Cortez pointed to the man standing behind Mercer who was now tied to a metal chair. “Where is Diego? The agent isn’t taking a shit is he?”

The man pulled out his phone. “He’s not picking up, sir.”

Another guy shook his head. “Knew something was wrong with that guy. Can’t trust nobody these days.”

“Shut it, Bruce,” Cortez grunted. He snapped his fingers. “Rough him up until Miguel gets here.”

The guy talking shit grinned. “With pleasure.”

Mercer wasn’t impressed.

The guy cracked his knuckles like it was supposed to do something. Mercer didn’t so much as stare but looked at the guy with boredom. Burns wasn’t going to let him down. Burns was good at his job.

Though as he said that and the guy came closer to him, there was a small, the tiniest bit of…

He wouldn’t go as far to say it wasworrybut…

Bruce put his hands on either side of the metal chair. He grinned wide, showing his slightly yellow teeth. He breathed garlic breath right into Mercer’s face. Mercer didn’t flinch.

“I’m going to make this as painful as possible.” He leaned in close. “I fucking hate feds.”

Before Bruce could make good on his promise, the warehouse doors opened.

Just on time.

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