Her life or his?
When Astrid Mickelson found out the man she loved was The Dispatcher—a government operative, who kills for a living without remorse—she left to stop herself from accidentally betraying him. However, Orlando Darke, the only man she’s ever wanted, is impossible to forget, and it seems once more back in her life.
For his part, the Dispatcher had never forgotten the love of his life. When he is sent to bring her in for being a traitor, he does what he does best…dispatching her to safety, to enable him to find the real culprit.
As the threat thickens, so does the sexual tension between them. But can there be a happily ever after in their future?
Be Warned: light BDSM, spanking
~Editor's Pick~
The boat rocked as he jumped back aboard and made his way to her side. “Right, next stop, ‘The Island’. He turned the wheel and notched up the revs as they left the shoreline and edged into the loch. A groan made her jump.
“What was that?”
Darke chuckled. “The parcel seems to be awake.” He put one arm around her and rubbed her lower body over his crotch. His erection dug into her belly and Astrid shivered as her pussy muscles did their shimmy and shake act they preferred whenever Darke was around. If she wasn’t careful her nipples would poke through all five layers of clothing that covered them. Not only that, her knickers felt damp and chafed her skin.
Oh God, not now. I don’t have time to dissolve in a pile of drool and beg to be screwed. I. Do. Not. Stop it already. Hold on…. “He’s alive?”
“Yeah, I want answers. The fucker drew his gun, so I shot his bollocks off. Bound him up though, pumped him full with antibiotics and he’ll live… for now.”
“You know you never said what you did before you do what you do now,” Astrid said slowly.
He chuckled once more. “Nor I did. Let’s just say I’ve broken my Hippocratic oath more times now than I’ve kept it.”
Ahh. That explained a lot. She’d wondered how he was so competent with that damned syringe. “Right.” Astrid decided not to ask more.
“Have I shocked you?” he asked in a voice devoid of emotion.
Astrid considered his words. Had he? “Actually, to my surprise, no you haven’t. At least you know what you’re doing when you do it. And in a strange way I admire you for doing what you think is right.”
“No admiration due, babe. I’m not a nice guy. I kill for a living. Clean up what other people shun. Work for a boss who I now know at best has a traitor in his group, and he’s done fuck all about it, or at worst, he may well be the traitor and have no fucking morals at all.” He sounded disgusted. “I might be a killer but I’m loyal and I’d never ever double cross my country. It seems someone has.”
Astrid stretched up and kissed the lobe of his ear. It was Darke’s turn to groan. “Hell and furies, babe, do that and I’ll want you to go down on me before I fuck you senseless. Every way and every way.”
She giggled. Oh God she loved him. Love? Love. No two ways about it. Astrid made her mind up and carefully bit, kissed, and licked his lobe before she dropped to her knees. “Can this thing steer itself?”
“Sadly no. We’ll end up going round in circles.”
The parcel groaned again. Darke kicked it and it went silent. “I hate things that don’t know there’s a time and a place for everything,” he said casually. “Hopefully that’ll do the trick for a while. You were saying, babe?”
“Bugger. Well can you steer it with other things going on?” Please say yes. She was so wet her knickers were soaked and her thighs coated with her essence. Not that going down on him and giving him a blow job would help that state of affairs per se but it would be bloody exciting.
“Yes. I’m a multi-tasker, you know that. Why?”
“Wait and see,” she purred and unsnapped his black denims.
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