Page 8 of Stolen

It wasn’t always pretty, and it was almost never legal.

All she knew was his cover. An ex-military mercenary who wasn’t too picky about the jobs he took.

It was why she didn’t take him seriously. If he ever wanted her to, he’d have to give up doing what he did for the people he did it for. And that was complicated.

But if he didn’t, their relationship would probably end up with her family leading him away in handcuffs.

Mikey put down the markers and blew on her drawing to dry the temporary ink.

Just the feel of her breath on his skin sent his pulse racing. He bent his head to hers. “But that’s the kind of guy you like, right? The kind you can’t bring home to Mama?”

His hand slid up her ribcage, toyed with her breast. “A bad boy who does all the bad things.” His hand slid lower, between her legs, skimming teasingly over her core.

He’d barely started when the phone on his nightstand dinged with a priority alert. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“Let it go,” Mikey said. “I dare you.”

There was nothing he wanted more than to sink into her and let the world go to hell. But a priority alert meant lives could be at stake.

“I can’t.” He stretched out his arm and snagged the phone off the nightstand, glancing at the screen.

The message was a simple security code—one that told Gunn to get to a place he couldn’t be overheard, and text back, ready to take a call.

He disentangled himself from Mikey. “Sorry,” he said, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. “Got to take this one.”