Page 43 of Black and Brown

Grace

Grace should’ve adhered to Mirage’s warning, but he hadn’t been able to resist.

If they hadn’t intervened, that dealer might have followed through on his threat. He seemed sleazy enough to.

It’d make Grace a pretty shitty protector of innocents if he allowed that to happen. It wasn’t the wife’s fault her husband was a piece of shit.

Also, fighting bad guys with Mirage was a convenient way to project his frustrated energy on a worthy subject.

Though the reprieve had been short-lived.

Walking close to Mirage in the dark made a pit of nervousness settle in his gut at what he had to confess.

Mirage had to know what was happening to him. His partner knew everything else.

Grace would be foolish to think his attraction was the one thing that confused Mirage.

For a fleeting moment at dinner, he thought he’d noticed a hint of jealousy in his partner’s tone when he asked if Grace wanted Meridian instead of him.

Oh, he did want something Meridian had, but it wasn’t his skills or partnership.

He wanted the all-consuming heat and passion he had with his partner, Ex.

If the Blacks could pull it off, fooling the entire agency, including their handler, he believed he and Mirage could as well.

He at least wanted to try.

The silence between them buzzed in the air.

Mirage’s hand brushed the back of his, sending arousing sensations up his arms.

He wasn’t used to being so sensitive. Mirage was always close, but recently, Grace had moved him in even closer. Close enough to smell his citrusy scent and feel his warm breath grazing the back of his neck.

He wanted his partner, his healer, his warrior, as close as he could get him.

He stole a glance at Mirage, his fair skin so enticing under the faint lighting.

He wondered what it’d feel like to cup Mirage’s cheeks and pull him toward him until his lips were pressed to his.

His new out-of-control emotions were as scary as they were exhilarating.

How is this happening?

Did the serums dilute over time?

Had this all been turned on by witnessing the sexual acts between two other assassins?

Or am I a five-million-dollar malfunctioning weapon?

“You gonna keep staring at me, Grace, while talking to yourself, or are you gonna talk to me?” Mirage asked.

Grace always found Mirage’s mind, his intuition and perception, nothing short of spectacular.

The sight of Mirage’s lithe, fit body, strong arms, and callused hands made him want to—

Grace coughed, choking on the strange essence of what he was sure was lust.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.