Enslave Me Sweetly by Gena Showalter

an inch of movement. For my job, I’d often sat in one place for hours, surveying my prey, not giving away my location by a single breath.
    I decided to challenge him by turning his own question against him. “What are you thinking about?”
    He arched his pierced brow again. “Do you want the honest answer or the same shit you gave me when I asked?” He didn’t give me time to reply, but finished with, “I’ll give you the honest answer.” He leaned forward, his mouth twisting upward, his eyes darkening. “I’m thinking how hot and wet and eager your lips will be when I win our bet.”
    â€œYou don’t even like me.”
    â€œI don’t have to like you to want you.”
    How like a man. Thankfully the landing gear moaned as it disengaged, saving me from slicing that smug grin off his face with the three-pronged razor strapped to my ankle. Never mind that I didn’t like him and wanted him myself.
    The self-driving ITS glided smoothly into its programmed location, a private airstrip in New Dallas. Lucius and I hustled outside. A step behind him, I found myself watching the way his butt moved. Nice. Damn him.
    The sun glared directly overhead, causing midday heat to wrap around me. My gold skin burned easily, more easily than a human’s. When possible, I wore long-sleeved shirts (with accessible slits for weapon handling) and tight black pants (also with accessible slits). I slid my dark sunglasses into place. Because I belonged to a hunted race, I also shoved my golden hair under a black ball cap.
    A fine sheen of sweat formed, and a dirt-laden breeze kicked up. I hurried into the air-conditioned back seat of a bullet- and laserproof black Hummer. Two of Michael’s employees waited in the front. Both were physically fit humans in their mid-thirties. I recognized them and nodded. Ren, the muscled brute in the passenger seat, had asked me out on numerous occasions. I’d always turned him down. His wandering eye irritated me.
    â€œThanks for the ride,” I said.
    â€œNo problem, baby,” Ren said, giving me a welcoming smile. “Anything for you.” As he spoke, he sent me a wink. He even skimmed his gaze over my body, and I wouldn’t have doubted if he mentally willed my legs apart.
    Any reply I offered would have encouraged him. I knew that from experience. So I kept my mouth closed.
    The easy atmosphere changed when Lucius entered the vehicle and folded his big frame beside me. Ren avoided looking directly at him, but his lips pressed together in disdain. The driver, Marko, whipped around, facing us. His olive complexion and dark eyes were rosy with…fury?
    â€œYou guys have met before, I take it,” I muttered.
    â€œHe broke my fucking nose,” Marko snarled.
    Lucius remained unperturbed. “I’ll break it again if you don’t turn your ass around and get us where we need to be.”
    There was a sizzling pause, a suspended moment between the escalating tension where I was one hundred percent confident the three men were going to kill each other. Wait. Let me rephrase. I was one hundred percent confident Lucius would kill Marko and Ren. I doubted anyone or anything could hurt Lucius Adaire.
    And wasn’t that a funny realization? When I’d first meet the man, I’d accused him of being all brawn and no brains, too pretty to actually fight. He’d proven himself capable during our training session. I’d give him that much.
    I adjusted the sunglasses on my nose. Obviously, Lucius had served time in the military. Special forces, black ops maybe. Perhaps he’d even worked for A.I.R. at one time. He moved silently, fluidly, with the patent stillness of a predator. He didn’t balk at the thought of violence; he embraced it.
    I still didn’t want him as my partner, though. How could I prove myself? How could I prove my worth and my capabilities with this tough man at my side? Despite his