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“Nothing serious?” Fee flings her hands in the air as she walks around the room. “Just a cracked rib, he says. You’re going to be useless for the next month. I’ll have to carry your dead weight.” She points a finger at Tatum. “You hit me in the head. Prick.”

I watch as Tatum slowly reaches for whatever he’s been using to tame me into submission. When he grabs it, he quickly holds it above his head threateningly. “Back the fuck away from me,” he says to Fee. To my surprise, he does not stand and scurry away, just scoots closer until he’s in my lap again, seeking protection. Even as he clings to me like a second skin, his eyes are glaring at Fiona as if he has the upper hand.

He’s precious this way. All bark, little bite. Try as I might, I can’t hide my smile. He’s adorable, thinking he’s in control. He must see the way I snicker, because his eyes narrow and lock on mine.

“What the hell are you laughing at?”

“You,” I answer, pointing at his hand. “You threatened my life with a rolling pin?”

He shrugs before carefully popping me on the elbow with his weapon of choice. It stings a bit, but I push past the pain. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yes, but . . . a rolling pin?”

“It was on the counter, so I grabbed it. It doesn’t matter why I have it—all that matters is it’ll split your skull wide open.”

As fun as this game is, Fee’s right. We really need to get this show on the road. The quicker we learn Scotty’s whereabouts, the quicker we can leave. With little effort, I stand, and Tatum wraps his legs around my waist, holding on for the ride. My ribs burn and ache, but I tuck the pain into a tiny ball and swallow it down, not wanting him to see me as weak. Once I’m up, I cock an eyebrow. “Remind me why you believe you have the upper hand.” He hits me on the shoulder with his rolling pin, but I simply blink at him for emphasis.

“Are you made of solid fucking steel?”

“I have twelve inches of steel, if you’d like to see.”

His eyes bulge and his mouth hangs open. “You’re lying.”

“If you want proof, I’m happy to show you.”

He shakes his head, looking dazed. “No one has a penis that large.” He gasps as I reach beneath his shorts and run my finger down his crack. My finger finds his hole and slides in with ease, like he’s been form-fitted for me. His eyes widen at the intrusion, but then the corner of his lips curl up.

“He’s not lying,” Fee says, flopping down on the sofa and pulling out her phone. “He made me measure it in front of my husband once as part of a sex bet. Just over twelve inches. I’m honestly surprised my cervix is still intact.” I don’t know what she’s looking for on her phone, but her eyes are glued to it, determined. When I look at Tatum, there’s an expression I can’t quite read. Sadness? Anger? Disappointment? I am not sure. Tatum is in my arms, right against my chest, but it feels like he is a million miles away.

I slide my finger in as deep as it will go. “What’s wrong?”

He startles as if I’ve just woken him from a dream. “Huh?”

“Your face. You look sad. What happened?”

His eyes dart to Fee, then to me. “You two are together?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

“Obviously not,” he quickly adds, but his cheeks are growing redder by the second. “I don’t even know you.”

“Well, I know you.” I lean in, playfully nipping his chin with my teeth. “Like the back of my hand, I know you.”

“How? And, why?” When I refuse to answer, his eyes narrow. “Answer the question, Abi.”

Fee sucks in a sharp breath, and when our gazes lock, her mouth hangs open. “You let him call you Abi?—”

“Do not say that name,” I growl, not taking my eyes away from Tatum. The name sounds wrong coming from her. It isn’t hers to say. With anyone else, it feels like nails piercing my eardrums. It brings back memories of my mother’s lifeless eyes. Of my father staring down at me in disgust. The twist of the blade as I took his life. An eye for an eye.

I cannot wallow in the past, not when I’ve got the future resting in my arms. Though it pains me to do so, I set him down on his feet and remove my finger from his hole. He clenches his cheeks to keep me in, and I realize, whether he knows or not, his body is already treating my finger like it’s an extension of himself. It’s as if it knows I belong inside him, and it will do whatever it takes to keep me there. I slide back into him, slowly gliding back and forth as he falls against my chest and writhes in my arms. Seconds tick by before he finally takes a step away from me.

There’s a recliner in the corner of Scotty’s apartment, and I point to it. “Would you like to sit on my lap?”

“Why the hell would I want to sit in your lap?” he asks, shaking his head. The question must bring him back to reality, because gone is the love-drunk man from moments before. “Stop trying to distract me with sexy games and that ridiculous accent. No, I don’t want to sit on your lap. What I would like is for you to die. If you’re unwilling to do so, I’d like for you to explain what’s going on. I’ve already told you I don’t know where they went.”

Fee rolls her eyes. “Do it, Kincaid.”

I know what she’s asking of me, but I cannot. I do not want to take pieces of this man unless he gives them willingly. The syringe is there, on the floor. All I would have to do is bend over and pick it up, and we’d have the answers we need... but I won’t. There’s a connection forming between us, and I don’t want to ruin the progress we’ve made by drugging him with our agency’s version of truth serum. Granted, it’s simply diphenhydramine mixed with a few rare herbs, but I will not drug him without his consent.

“Sit with me, Tatum,” I suggest instead, taking his hand and guiding him to the recliner. Once I’m seated, I tug until he’s in my lap, and I wrap a protective arm around his waist. In my lap, Tatum shifts, trying to get comfortable. The action makes my dick swell, and he must feel it, because his eyes blow wide.

“Is that . . . ?”

I flash a smile, slowly rocking my hips, grinding against him. “That is my cock. He is very happy to make your acquaintance.”

He makes a sound like he’s choking before quickly darting his eyes away. “Liar. That’s way too big to be a penis.”

I grind against him again, wanting him to feel every centimeter of my manhood. “As I said, it’s twelve inches. Do you think you can take it?”

“Fuck off, liar.” His cheeks are crimson, and he’s looking everywhere in the room except at me. It isn’t lost on me how he arches back as if he wants to feel more of me. Changing the subject, he darts his eyes between Fee and myself. “What was she talking about? What does she want you to do to me?”

“I’m in the room, you know. You could just ask me directly.”

His eyes remain locked on mine. “Answer the question, Abi.”

My professional career relies on half-truths and omissions, but I cannot do that with him. I refuse. “I gather you already know the man who took Scotty is a hitman, correct?” I start. Though Tatum doesn’t answer, he does nod. Good. I’m glad he’s being somewhat forthcoming. “His name is Brody. He’s Fiona’s husband and my best friend. We’re coworkers. He was hired to kill your friend, but they ran off instead. The people who want Scotty dead aren’t happy. Our lives are in danger, and the only way out of this is to bring Brody home.” I don’t tell him his friend’s death will be necessary for this to work in our favor, though I’m sure the implication is there.

“So, you’re just friends?” he asks, pointing at Fee, then at me. Funny this is where his mind goes. I’ve just told him I’m a trained assassin on the hunt for his best friend. My girlfriend has told him she plans to hurt that friend. Instead of worrying over Scotty’s fate, he concerns himself with my love life. Interesting .

I swallow, shaking my head. “We are something of an item. Brody and Fiona have an open marriage.” Not wanting to dwell on that fact, I try to shift his focus to the matter at hand. “I am only asking you to tell me what you know. Fiona would like me to drug you, but I do not wish to do that. I just need to know if you have any idea where they might be.”

Fee stands, her eyes locked on something on the floor. At first, I assume she’s going to give us a moment alone so I might find out what he knows. It’s a hypothesis that proves incorrect when she bends over, grabs the discarded syringe, approaches, and jams the needle into Tatum’s neck.

“Fiona!” I scream, only stopping myself when I see the fear in Tatum’s eyes.

“Oh, my God,” he whispers. “Abi?”

Rage doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. He looks so fucking terrified right now. “Oh, Pretty Baby. No. Don’t be afraid. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“She stabbed me,” he says in disbelief, reaching for his neck. I watch as Fee plunges the cocktail into his bloodstream, and I know whatever fear he’s feeling at this moment is about to increase tenfold. I’ve only felt the serum’s effects once, but once was enough to last me a lifetime. “She’s just stabbed me.”

“She hasn’t,” I insist. “She only gave you a shot.”

This does nothing to ease his worry. “She drugged me? You let her fucking drug me? What was in it? Is it cyanide? Have I been poisoned?” His grip around me tightens as he clings to me for dear life. I swear to God, if it wasn’t for my personal code of honor, I would kill Fee right now. Tatum is terrified. “I don’t want to die.”

I touch his cheek and force the warmest smile I can manage. “You aren’t dying, I swear. She’s injected you with a truth serum, for lack of a better word. It’s a way of easing out the things you want to keep hidden. I want you to look at me, alright?” I wait for him to focus on me and nod. He’s shaking, and I can’t stand to see him this way. So I do the only thing I can think of to put him at ease. I dip my fingers past his crack and gently slide my finger into his hole, thrusting it back and forth slowly.

“Scared,” he whispers. Now that the serum is in his blood, he can no longer lie to me. He’s the type to hoard his feelings, saving them for a rainy day. With that no longer being an option, he’s left at my mercy. His life is essentially in my hands, and he’s frightened.

“You’re safe,” I assure him. “This is what’s going to happen to you. In a moment, you’re going to feel warm all over. It’s a lovely feeling. Enjoy it.” Our agency has multiple variations of this serum, though they all have the same primary function—to lower inhibitions until the truth slips out. A few versions of the drug render its recipient unconscious within minutes. Some sooner, some later. The batch I have creeps upon its target slowly, prying out admissions over time rather than all at once. I lean in and offer him a quick peck on the mouth to put him at ease. When I pull away, I trace the curve of his lower lip and smile widely at him. “Once it fades, you’ll feel fearful, but I promise, you have nothing to be scared of. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Why?” he whimpers.

I want to tell him he needn’t worry because he’s mine now. I’ve obsessed over him for days. I’ve masturbated to his profile picture more times than I can count. I’ve always pictured myself with a woman in the end, but now I know that won’t happen. Not as long as Tatum St. James is breathing. There’s no retreat—only surrender.

“Once the fear settles, you will not be able to lie to me.” His eyes widen, and, again, I try to ease his mind. “I won’t ask you anything that doesn’t pertain to your friend. I won’t use it against you.”

“I will,” Fee interjects.

“You will do no such thing,” I say without taking my eyes off him. “You will go into the other room, and you will let me handle it. I have this.” My finger continues fucking him slowly, and I can tell it must be reassuring, because he doesn’t look as frightened as before.

Fee exhales heavily but she finally relents, grabbing her burner phone and heading into Scotty’s bedroom. And now, I’m alone with him. God. Why does it feel so right? Why does he feel so right?

When the door closes and I’m sure it’s just him and me, I lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. To my surprise, he doesn’t fight against me. He doesn’t slap me, though I would happily welcome it. I like the way he tries to rough me up. He’s such a little man, it’s not as if he can do much damage.

His eyes close, then open, much slower than before. “Abi,” he says, and it almost sounds like a prayer. His fingers crinkle against my stubble like he’s scratching an unscratchable itch on my behalf. “I feel warm.” I watch as his hips roll, rocking back and forth against my finger. He doesn’t seem to be doing it for sexual release; it’s almost like my finger is a security blanket of sorts.

“I know, baby. I said you would feel warm all over. Remember?” I place my hand on his stomach and rub my palm in slow circles. Leaning in, I kiss his forehead. He doesn’t back away. “Tatum?”

His breathing is slow and heavy. Little bursts of bubblegum that invade and intoxicate my senses. “Yeah?”

“Will you tell me what you know about Scotty?”

He lifts his hand to my face and traces my eyebrows. “You have really pretty eyebrows.”

“Thank you,” I say with a laugh, but his expression remains serious.

“No, I mean it. I’m a makeup artist. I know these things. You can tell you spend a lot of time on them.” His fingers trail down to my cheekbone. “And these things? They’re fucking statuesque.” He sighs, but it’s one that’s filled with affection. “You must have had work done. No one has cheekbones like this. It’s just ...” His eyes close, and he kisses the air. The action is both silly and seductive, and I have to resist the urge to lean in and place my lips on top of his. “Perfection,” he whispers. “Can I ask you a question?”

I’m the one who should be asking questions. He’s already failed to answer the most important one I can ask, but I can’t bring myself to ask it again. Tatum wants to know about me. There’s a question he needs an answer to, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

“Anything,” I say.

“Are you going to kill Scotty when you find him?”

I say nothing at first, because I don’t wish to lie to him. In all honesty, I don’t know what we’ll do to his friend when we find him. I know Brody better than I know myself. He protects those he loves with ferocity. If he truly loves Scotty Levinson, he won’t allow us to kill him. There are other options, of course. Perilous paths we could take. I don’t wish to spend time worrying about those now, though. Not when Tatum is resting in my lap, hoping for me to put him at ease.

“I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen. I promise.”

He nods, but he doesn’t seem that convinced. “I don’t know where he is. Before he left, we weren’t exactly on the best of terms. I told him over and over that your friend was trying to kill him, but he was a real jerk about it. Kicked me out of his apartment and everything.” His fingers are on me, rubbing up my chest, letting the hair spike between his fingers. His eyes are focused on my porcelain skin like my body is a work of art. I wonder if he likes the view. Other lovers have endlessly rained down praise on my appearance, but it’s never felt as if the entire trajectory of my life rests on one person’s opinion.

“I love your hair,” he says, combing his fingers through my short dark-brown hair. His fingers feather down the side of my face. “Your eyes are beautiful. Big brown bundles of sunshine.” He closes his eyes and exhales. “Actual perfection.”

I snicker. “You think so? ”

“Know so,” he says. His eyes journey down to my hand, and his smile fades. “Put it back.”

“Put what back?”

Rather than answer, he grabs my hand and leads it back to his ass. “You said it’s where you belong.” If this is what he wants, my finger is his for the taking. He’s loosened up a bit already, so I’m able to slide in with ease. As I slowly fuck his hole with the digit, I focus on the pleasure spreading across his face. Honestly, I don’t think he’s even doing this for sexual release. He just enjoys having me inside as a reminder.

“I’m mad at him,” Tatum says as his thumb brushes against my nipple, making me shiver. “But I don’t want him dead. So don’t kill him, okay?”

I place my hand on top of his and squeeze. “Like I said, I’ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

He nods, but he seems a million miles away. “Good. Yeah, that’s great. Thanks, Abi.”

I lift his hand to my lips and give him a kiss. “You’re welcome.”

“I don’t know where he is. I wasn’t lying about that. All he has left is his dad, and his dad hates him. I don’t know where they could have gone. Maybe your boyfriend has family or friends they’re visiting.”

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I say. “Brody and I are purely platonic. He’s been my best friend for years. We met at school. After my mother died, his parents took me in.” I turn my head, because I can feel wetness forming in my eyes. Tatum’s hand touches my cheek, and he slowly pulls me back to him.

“Are you lonely? You look lonely,” he asks. I have no reason to be lonely. I have Fiona. We’ve got Daisy, her dachshund. Once all of this is over, we might even have Brody again. Still, there’s something in his question that hits a nerve. When he speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper at all. “Because I’ve been lonely for a really long time. Ever since the Bens brought Benito into the mix, he’s been icing me out of my own relationship. ”

Since Tatum is drugged, he is unable to hide facts from me. That’s why I don’t flat-out ask him to elaborate. Instead, I try to word my request in a way in which he can still say no. There’s a strand of hair dangling in front of his face, and I reach up and brush it away, kissing his forehead.

“What I said earlier, about your boyfriends neglecting you, I meant it. You’ve been neglected too long, haven’t you?”

He’s got a sad expression on his face as he nods. “He’s not a nice guy. When we started seeing each other, he told me he wanted all of us the same amount. He said I was going to be part of it too. That lasted all of five minutes. He moved into the apartment I shared with my boyfriends—Benji, Bennet, and Austin—and right off the bat, he took over. We’re all bottoms, and the Bens like to be bossed around, but I don’t. He hates me because I don’t blindly follow his orders, so stuff’s gotten bad between us.” He looks up at me, his bottom lip trembling. “He makes me watch when they fuck, but I’m not allowed to touch any of them. Not allowed to touch myself, either, but I still do.” The corner of his lips twists up into a sly smirk. “I do it a lot.”

“Good for you.” Leaning closer, I kiss the side of his face, letting my hand slide down his side until it’s resting on his hip. “You deserve to come as often as you want. If you were mine, I would bring you to release anytime you asked.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding breathless.

“Yeah.”

He presses his face against my chest. “I hate him, you know. I wish we’d never met him. He stole my boyfriends. My apartment. He took everything I ever loved, and he gloated the whole time.”

“Would you like me to kill him?”

His eyes widen and he quickly shifts his focus back to my chest, running his finger through the fur. “No. That would make Bennet and Benji sad. I don’t like Nito, but I love them, and I don’t want them to be sad. Please don’t kill him.”

“Alright. I do not agree with your decision, but you have my word. If you change your mind, let me know, and I will be happy to handle it.”

He’s quiet for a while. At one point, he leans in, presses his face against my chest, and inhales deeply. It’s the single most erotic moment of my life. I comb my fingers through his hair and hold him closer, trembling when his mouth parts and he introduces his tongue to the mix.

“Fuck. Tatum,” I breathe.

He looks up at me as he takes my nipple into his mouth and nibbles. His tongue twirls around the peaked nub, flickering back and forth. When he bats his lashes at me, I know he’s doing it for a reason—I just don’t know what he wants. He pulls away and stares at me, not saying a word.

“What’s wrong, love?”

His lips pucker and he kisses my chest before hoisting his leg over my lap and straddling me. “If I lie against you, is it going to hurt your ribs?”

“Not at all. I would love for you to lie against me,” I say. He gives me a nod, and then he leans forward, wrapping his arms around my back. He shifts his weight to the left, probably to avoid hurting my already aching chest.

“What happens to me when you leave to find them? Are you going to kill me?”

I tickle his side, making him giggle like a child. “How could I ever kill someone this charming?” I twinkle my fingers as I tiptoe them up his chest until my hand is cupping his face. “Would you like to come with us?”

His eyes widen, but he still has that dazed look about him. “You’re gonna kidnap me?” I frown, because that’s not what I’ve said at all. I made no insinuations of kidnapping or taking him hostage. “I won’t fight you because you’ll probably kill me if I do.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “I’ve already told you I have no plans on killing you.”

His eyes narrow, and he’s got that same bratty look on his face he wore when he choked me earlier. “I said, you’ll probably try to kill me if I try to run. So, you have to kidnap me, right? You’re going to take me against my will?”

It seems more like a plea than a question, and for once, I’m at a loss. I cannot take him with me. It would be madness. Not only would his life be in danger, but his presence would put all our lives in jeopardy as well. Tatum knows nothing about living off the grid. Taking him means keeping him comfortable, and I do not believe he will be comfortable roughing it.

“I do not kidnap,” I finally say, stroking his cheek. “I’m sorry, little one.”

He rests his head against my shoulder and shakes his head, his eyelids drooping. “It’s already done. I’ve been abducted by a bisexual Russian and his girlfriend who wears ugly maroon lipstick for reasons I don’t understand.” He bats his lashes, giving me his saddest expression. “I’m your prisoner now?”

“Would you like to be my prisoner?” I ask, regretting it as soon as the question is out. His mouth opens and closes several times, and I can tell he’s trying to hold the admission inside, but the drug is ripping it out of him. I don’t want to see him this way—struggling to hide the parts he’s not yet ready to share—so, I quickly course correct. I pull him closer, tightening my grip. “Yes, Tatum. You are my prisoner.”

His smile is the only assurance I need. As he drifts into a peaceful sleep, Fee’s voice calls out from the bedroom. “Motherfucking boom, bitch! Found him.”