I watch as Baz sinks his first eight ball. I let him win the third game. No one can ever accuse me of being merciless-all the time.
"You just kicked my ass." I toy, licking my lips to drive him crazy.
Baz stalks over to me with a that's complete bullshit and I know it look.
"You let me win." He crowds me against the wall as he places his pool stick back on the rack. I guess we're done playing.
"Maybe." I eye him from under my lashes.
"No maybe about it. You let me win." He traps my chin between his fingers and forces my face up. He's a good foot taller than me, twice my width, and solid muscle. I swallow thickly. By the way he's looking at me, I know for sure we are definitely done playing. I inhale his opiate-like, earthy scent as he presses his body dominantly against mine. All my internal functions are working on overdrive as my rationale and sensibility fly right out the window.
Baz leans in and I swear I petrify. I can count on half a hand the number of times a man has had the ability to incapacitate me, but Baz does so in such a quiet yet compelling way I barely realize it's happening. I believe in walking softly and carrying a big stick, but Baz embodies it.
I never take my eyes off his face as he inches closer and closer. Just when I think he's going to kiss me, his path diverts and his lips land on my ear. The touch is faint, but it's effect is resounding. I feel it everywhere. Trickling over my skin, seeping into my pores and coursing through my veins until the sensation settles in my bones.
"Come home with me," he whispers commandingly, his tone speaking to an intrinsic part of me.
I lock my knees together to keep from falling into his arms.
Come home with me. A cycle of unwanted thoughts start to violate my mind. Violate the moment. I remember why I'm here and the assignment I'm supposed to execute.
I place my hands on Baz's neck solemnly. I want to trail my fingers up and tangle them into his hair. I want to kiss him like no woman has ever kissed him before. I want to be the one he remembers. Who he compares all future kisses to. But the tragic truth is Baz doesn't have a future, because I'm here to kill him.
"I can't," I regretfully tell him.
He jerks his head back and looks at me bewildered. "Why not?"
Because if I come home with you, it will be your very last night on this Earth.
And for some reason, that notion breaks my heart.
I have never thought twice about ending someone's life. About what I do or who I am. But staring into the green, vital force of Baz's eyes, the world suddenly seems like an alien place.
"I think it's time for me to go." I slip away from him with a disenchanting ease.
"Stevie." Baz grabs for my arm. The fight is there. The want. The demand. It makes me feel alive inside. But I can't stay. And I can't give in.
"Baz, please." I jerk my arm away with more force than I mean. God, the disappointment on his face. When did I sprout feelings? They were never there before. "I have to go."
I fly to the bar to retrieve my jacket and don't even bother to slide it on until I get outside. The clean night air helps me to breathe. To find some clarity. The gravel parking lot crunches under my boots as I hurry to my truck. I know he's behind me before I even reach the handle. The guy is persistent. I'll give him that.
"Stevie." Jesus, my name on his lips, it's like kryptonite. Too bad I'm no Supergirl. I turn to face him, knowing I'm in store for a world of regret. "Were you serious about hiking to a spring?"
Um, okay. I wasn't expecting that.
"Yes." My lie is shaky.
"Can I take you to one? Tomorrow? It's not on any maps. Locals only."
Ho-lyyyy shit. That was like an invitation to his own funeral. Me and Baz, alone, in the woods?
"I don't think-"
"C'mon," he presses. "I'm not a serial killer, if that's what you're worried about." It takes all my restraint to stop from screaming but I am! "I really want to see you again." He flattens both hands against the sleek black truck, trapping me in. "I need to see you again."
Say no, say no, say no! Get your ass in the truck and drive away!
"What time do you want to go hiking?" I crumble like freaking pie crust.
The triumph in his eyes tells me he thinks he just scored a second chance.
Too bad what he really scored was a front row seat to a bullet between the eyes.
"Is seven a.m. too early?" Excruciatingly. "The sunrise over the mountains is killer."
Killer. Right. He has no idea. "Seven a.m. I'll be ready." I smile sweetly.
"So will I," Baz promises fiercely. My entire torso burns from his response. It's so hot it feels as if someone doused me in lighter fluid from my neck to my navel.