Page 28 of Pulse Zero
My dick throbs in my hand.
I peer over my shoulder just in time to see his gaze drop.
I smirk. “I knew you were watching.”
“Stop,” he says, his voice rougher now and, dare I say, a little breathless.
Mine is too when I say, “I’d begyouto stop if you wanted me to.”
I turn back around and place one hand on the wall as I thrust into my fist. My cock is as hard as a fucking rock now, and Ireallywant to come.
Fuck, I’m getting myself all worked up when I know Reese won’t even come close to touching me.
“I think the real question now is…” My words are interrupted by a moan that rips its way up my throat. “Are you still doing this because you have to? Or because you want to?”
There’s a sudden, sharp metallic sound that fills the basement.
The water beating down on me turns to ice.
My hand falls to my side, and I turn slowly. On the other side of the glass, Reese stands there, his gun in his hand. And he’s pointing it straight at me. His hand is steady, but his eyes…
His eyes are anything but.
The silver in them wavers, shifting and unstable, likemercury trembling in a glass vial, never quite still no matter how tightly he holds himself together.
For the first time in twenty-five days, real fear hits me. Cold and sharp and absolute. My pulse slams against my ribs. My lungs forget how to work.
This is it.
This is how it ends.
Naked and wet and…still a little hard.
I swallow.
And then, because I am apparently incapable of shutting up even in the face of death…
“If this is your idea of foreplay, I’m into it.”
For a second, I see it—the crack in his control, the thing beneath all that discipline. Something dark and hungry. And suddenly I don’t know if I should be afraid of the gun.
Or of what happens if he lowers it.
I don’t know whatthe fuck I’m doing.
I shouldn’t have let Cason crawl so deep beneath my skin, squirming around under there until he found the only switch to flip that would make me snap.
Because he’s right.
Something about this job is off.Wrong.
I started thinking that a few days ago, and the fact that Cason has picked up on it too is…even more concerning. If something really is wrong, then Iambad at my job for not knowing what it is. Cason calling me out pissed me off. The doubt that’s been eating at me cracked wide open.
Malcolm isn’t communicating. The entity who hired me has only checked in twice, saying that everything is right on schedule and telling me to keep doing what I’m doing.
Which…feels likenothing.
Ihatesitting on my ass.
