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I caught sight of two women further along the path. One was short and curvy. When she turned and started jogging backward while talking to her mate, I realized she had the kind of face that sculptors probably loved. Beautiful. Excellent bone structure. Her skin was tan, her auburn hair sleek and bouncing in a long ponytail. She was beautiful.
But my gaze was focused on the arse of her friend. Tight. Clearly in shape. Long, lean frame. I knew what her face would look like if it was sculpted by the masters themselves. Wide eyes that could bore into my soul. Full lush lips that looked like they were born for sucking—
Nope. Stop it.
The rush of heat to my dick was instantaneous. What the fuck was wrong with me? I didn't know her, but as far as I knew, she was trouble. So best to stay the fuck away because something about her was unsettling. I couldn't pinpoint it or explain it. I just knew that she was trouble for me. Besides, she carried clear back-off signals. And let's not forget what she’d said. ‘You don't recognize me?’ I'd been too focused on the pain in my nuts last night to really think about it, but did she think I should recognize her? I didn't remember seeing her before, and I would remember someone like her. Mostly because I hadn't been able to think about anything other than her when I got to bed.
They veered off the path before we even reached them, and I pretended like I wasn't watching, but out of the corner of my eye, I was absolutely fucking watching. It was impossible not to. Her movements were lithe, easy. What was she talking about? Was she telling her mate that she'd kicked my arse?
Probably. She'd seemed to enjoy it last night. Hopefully, Jason didn't notice, but I let my gaze flicker to watch her walk away. And it turned out Jason was stupid observant."How are you feeling after Saff ran you through?"
"She did not run me through. I feel fine."
Jason chuckled. "Right. Saff is one of the best."
“Yeah, she's not bad."
Another laugh. Jason was like one of those blokes you saw in the SAS. Except, while he had the look, his countenance was relaxed, though I didn't doubt if some shit popped right then, he'd spring into action. Every bloke I'd ever met who was in Her Majesty's Service was exactly the same type, buttoned-up to the hilt. Hell, even Saint was that way. Although, Saint had a mercurial, playful side about him.
“I feel fine. She just happens to be good at hand-to-hand, that's all."
He laughed. "And make sure that's exactly what you say to Gabe."
I frowned at that. "What do you mean?"
"He feels, uh, protective of Saff, so when he asks how it went, what happened exactly, you tell him she's great at hand-to-hand, bested you summarily and then shut your mouth."
I frowned at that. “Is there something I should know about Gabe and Saff?"
Jason eyed me. "No. Just know that he's protective of her and speak about her accordingly."
I was led further up the path to the side door, and then we took the stairs up to the main level and down the hall to Gabe's office. I'd only been here once and never really desired to return again. Gabriel Webb wasn't a man I saw often. He didn't handle the trainees. He did handle mission specs, but I hadn't been on a mission yet.
Jason knocked on the door, and Gabe's voice was a low murmur when he said, “Come in.”
Jason gave me a smile and said, “Good luck, bro,” and then he made a quick escape.
When I walked in, Gabe stood and nodded at me with what he probably meant to be a half smile, but I could read the tension around him.
"Mr. King."
“You might as well call me Lock."
Webb’s smile widened a bit then. “Fair enough. How is your training going?"
"Why don't you tell me?"
Why was I making this difficult? I was stuck there for another nine months with him. It would probably go better if I could just get along.
I took a seat and leaned my elbows forward on my knees. "What can I help you with?"
Gabe did smile then. And when he did, I marveled at how much younger it made him look, like he wasn't that much older than me. Maybe because he was serious all the time that’s what made him look foreboding or like he should be in charge. “I just want to know how your training is going."
“I'm sure you get reports, right?"
“Yes, but last night you had a change in routine."
I ground my teeth just thinking about the woman with the braids.
