Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Clear,” Gabriel said as he stepped back out of the bathroom, walking toward Justin with a stack of thick white towels in hand. He tossed them onto the end of the king-sized bed that dominated the room before shutting the door behind Justin.
The room was comfortably large with two windows looking out on downtown Cincinnati. Pale-blue paint covered the walls as if to keep the occupants floating on a sea of calm while framed abstract art attempted to break up the mind-numbing monotony. The only sign that Gabriel was staying in the room was a small leather satchel laying on the top of the desk in the far corner of the room.
A soft yelp escaped Justin when Gabriel stepped up behind him and jerked his shirt away from his skin. Justin twisted around, his bloody hand still pressed to his side, trying to slow the bleeding.
“Damn it,” Gabriel grumbled, stepping around to stand in front of Justin. “It didn’t go straight through.”
“Yeah, that’d mean I was bleeding from two holes instead of just one.”
“It also means that the bullet is still in there, and I’ve got to dig it out before sewing the hole shut.”
“Pretty sure I mentioned something about that,” Justin grumbled.
“I just took it for delirious mutterings.”
Justin managed a false gasp while trying to step away from Gabriel’s grabby hands. “I never mutter.”
Quick, efficient hands snagged the end of Justin’s shirt and pulled it over his head, muffling his pained groan. He bit back another curse as Gabriel wiped the excess blood away with his wadded-up T-shirt. He leaned down, inspecting the hole in the side of Justin’s abdomen, then pressed the shirt against the wound again to stanch the bleeding.
“It doesn’t look deep. You’re probably right. Ricochet with just enough velocity to dig itself into your obliques. Not bad. The bullet should be easy to find,” Gabriel said and turned to walk into the bathroom.
“Are you a doctor?”
“No.” His voice echoed slightly off the marble floor, followed by the sound of running water.
“But you’ve done this before?”
“A few times.”
Gabriel returned, carrying a bottle of water, a damp towel, and a black leather shaving kit. But Justin barely noticed.
While in the bathroom, Gabriel had shed his button-down shirt so that he was now naked from the waist up, revealing hard muscles covered in dozens of black tattoos. His chest, shoulders, and arms to the elbow were etched in intricate designs, words in multiple languages, and symbols.
They were the last thing he would have expected to see on his tight-lipped partner, making them all the more stunning and maybe even a little frightening. More than a few of the symbols he recognized as symbols of death and mayhem.
In the span of just a few hours, he’d closely watched how Gabriel handled himself, handled his gun. The man was undoubtedly skilled at what he did. He didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger and end a person’s life. He clearly had the knowledge of how to do so quickly or how to stretch it out. There had been a chilling coldness to Gabriel when he’d proceeded to torture their target for information.
But there had been some teasing remarks tonight too. The tiniest hints that there was another person buried behind the assassin. One with a dry sense of humor and haunted eyes. And of course, a fucking ripped, lean body.
Oh, of course I’m attracted to the cold-blooded assassin.
Justin could only watch, speechless as Gabriel approached. Hooking his foot around the chair for the desk, Gabriel dragged it over to rest next to the bed before placing the water bottle and the towel on the nightstand and the kit on the chair. He turned back to Justin, and his nimble fingers started pulling at Justin’s belt.
“Hey, now!” he gasped, trying to bat his fingers away with one hand while still holding his T-shirt to his stomach with the other. “Not on the first date.”
Gabriel gave his hand one smack. “Shut up.” He pulled the belt free with one hard jerk, causing Justin’s heart to start racing. A light, dizzy feeling settled around his brain, and he swayed slightly on his feet. Gabriel methodically unbuttoned and unzipped the blood-soaked jeans, pulling them to Justin’s hips while leaving his dark-red boxer briefs in place.
“Sit.”
Blinking furiously to clear his head, Justin sank faster than he intended. He watched as Gabriel turned the leather kit over and opened a secret compartment that revealed a variety of needles, vials, gauze, and other medical items. A little surgery-to-go kit.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“No,” he quickly answered. Apparently, it was too quickly since Gabriel glared at him, clearly not believing him one bit.
“Not trying to kill you, remember.” There was a hard edge to Gabriel’s voice, and Justin couldn’t fight the blush burning his cheeks. It was habit more than anything. Okay, habit and the death tattoos covering Gabriel’s chest that had him evading the question. Sharing personal information was always dangerous.