Page 44 of Assassin's Game
So full of himself. I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole. I also couldn’t get the smile off my face. “What do I get if you win?”
His grin was wicked. “Multiple orgasms.”
Good luck.No man had been able to give me multiple orgasms; I just wasn’t built that way, I guess. “Not happening, Eli.”
“Oh, it’s happening, Mikaela. And when it does, you’ll never doubt my word again.”
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Chapter Nineteen
Eli —
I’d never worked with anyone but my brothers. I shouldn’t be comfortable working with Mikaela now, but it felt more like this was our hundredth mission than our first. And playing with her? She made my heart light and my dick hard, even in the middle of an op. The sound of her laugh… Jesus. No way had I only known she existed in this world for a few days; surely I’d known her forever. And yet there were still so many corners of her to explore.
Corners and curves.
I shifted in my seat, trying for the tenth time—unsuccessfully—to get more comfortable in the tight confines of my fatigues.
“Here we go,” Mikaela murmured from the back seat.
I’d put up the window earlier when the rain started to fall. Now, glancing toward the house, I saw Sullivan making a hasty exit out the front, his head down against the wind. “Showtime.” I threw Mikaela a grin over my shoulder as I opened my door.
My big black umbrella added to the protection the driver’s cap gave me. I watched Sullivan approach—his body language, the direction of his gaze, his pace. The man went everywhere like he was supposed to be there ten minutes ago. Now, he moved slow and certain toward the car, relaxed, languid. Even in the rain.
Just as I’d expected. I held the rear door open as he approached.
People entered a vehicle one of two ways: headfirst, bending down to see inside as they moved forward, with their backside literally bringing up the rear; or ass first, backing into the vehicle and looking around once they were seated. Sullivan tucked his trench coat around his body like the rich man he was and turned slightly, his ass leading the way inside. Essentially giving Mikaela his back.
Big mistake.
I watched through the gap between door and car as she struck, snakelike, the needle digging into Sullivan’s neck before he was even in the car. It took two seconds for Mikaela to depress the plunger, delivering the ketamine.
“Shit!” Instinct raised his hand, searching for the pain in his neck, turning to see what was behind him in the car. Mikaela didn’t waste time, nor did she need my help. Our target was twice her weight, taller and broader, but she slid beneath his raised arm before he realized she was there. Wrapping her arms around Sullivan’s body, front and back, she pulled him down to her. Hands clasped on the opposite side of his neck in a modified choke hold, she rammed her shoulder into the man’s armpit, then squeezed his neck between her hands and his arm. With pressure on both sides, she cut off his blood supply.
Sullivan tried to struggle, to stand, to get out of the car before it was too late, but between the drug and Mikayla, he didn’t stand a chance.
All I did was pick up his legs and push them into the car, then close the door.
“Thanks for the help, Tex,” she joked as I climbed back into the front seat.
I might’ve felt guilty if she sounded the slightest bit winded, but she wasn’t even breathing heavy. “You’re welcome.” I winked at her in the rearview mirror. Her withering glare would have made my balls run for cover if not for the seat between us.
I chuckled instead.
Maneuvering Sullivan upright drew a couple of grunts from the back seat, but Mikaela didn’t complain further as I set out for the place where we’d parked the car. After dropping her off, I waited for her to follow me, and we made our way to the rendezvous point.
The “fun house” Sullivan visited every Tuesday was a good forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, well camouflaged in rural Georgia. Given the lateness of the hour and the location, traffic was light. I drove about fifteen minutes before I turned off the country highway onto a badly pitted side road and continued a couple of miles until Mikaela’s team’s van came into view. As soon as I flashed my headlights, both front doors opened and Titus and Remi exited.
Mikaela pulled the Corolla up behind the town car and shut it off.
“So, meet people on the dark side often?” I called as I stepped out. Remi smirked, used to my irreverence during the job. I couldn’t read Titus’s expression as he passed me, but the lack of a reflection off white teeth said he probably wasn’t impressed. He beelined it for the passenger door.
“Any word from Monty and Rhys?” Mikaela asked as she joined us.
Titus shook his head and hefted a snoozing Sullivan out of the car. “Nothing yet.”
Mikaela followed, holding Sullivan’s feet, a vee between her dark brows.
