Page 14 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
"Right. Now that we're all here, let's discuss the mission."
My jaw falls open. That's it?
"Colt, good to see you back," Hawke continues like he's already forgotten I just challenged him. "I checked over your discharge forms and understand you've been cleared for active duty assessment in one month. That correct?"
"That's correct, boss," Colt replies with a sharp nod, his posture straightening as he seems to come to the same realization I have: Hawke is all business today.
Hawke's lips tighten, the only indication that he's still pissed off. "Good. You can be assessed the same day as Natalia."
I suck in a sharp breath at this information. This new information. Four weeks to perfect all the skills Hawke and Mace have been drilling into me day and night since the confrontation with my father’s men. Why in the ever loving shit wouldn't Hawke have warned me?
"Is that a problem, Natalia?" Our tattooed control freak team leader gives me a look that's so shuttered I find myself totally off balance.
What's the right answer, here? Is he offering me an out? Or setting me up to fail? Fucking Hawke. Fuck!
"No problems here, boss." My voice comes out uncertain, breathy, but the reassuring nod Mace gives me from behind Hawke eases the tension thrumming through my body.
He sees me, even if he pretends not to.
Hawke stares at me a moment longer before giving a terse nod and turning his attention to Arsen.
"Save it, bossman," Arsen sneers, leaning against the yellowing, ripped wallpaper with one dirty boot up against the skirting board. He flips an old fashioned lighter out of his pocket and touches the flame to the cigarette balanced on his lips. "You did your worst, and here I am. Back on active duty." He blows out a stream of smoke and offers Hawke a smug smile. "Try harder next time."
"That was far from doing my worst, Arsen. That was to help you. If I wanted you off the team I would have just shot you in the head and blamed Konstantin's men." Hawke looks totally bored with the conversation, and I'm beginning to understand that he and Arsen threatening to kill each other happens on a daily basis. If not more.
"So, once Colt and Natalia are cleared for duty, we're back on the job?" Weston's chest rumbles against my back as he speaks, his fingertips stroking the bare skin below my shirt and above my waistband. A movement that doesn't go unnoticed by Hawke whose jaw ticks as he glares at Weston's hand for a moment.
What the fuck his problem is, I have no idea. He's made it pretty damn clear he's no longer interested in me like that.
"Not exactly," Mace answers instead, his voice as soft as a bag full of broken rock. "Konstantin has gone to ground, none of the surveillance teams have any confirmed sightings since the night..." he trails off with a small grimace in my direction.
"Since the night our little broken bird flew the coop and almost got Colt killed," Arsen finishes for him, sending me a shit eating grin. "Bet you feel all kinds of shitty about that, huh?"
"Not really," I quip back, crossing my legs at the knee and pretending like I don't feel this throbbing ache between my thighs. Maybe it’s a blessing to be so tight after only a few weeks of celibacy, but damn that left me sore.
Imagine if I'd tried to break my celibate stint with Hawke ... or Mace?
My eyes slide his way, and I find myself caught on that deep, blue gaze of his again. I'd like to unpack it, see what makes him tick. And yet, I can't even get him to fuck me anymore. What the hell is going on here?
After a moment, my attention slides down to this bulge in his crotch that I somehow missed before. So he was turned on by me then, wasn't he? I think, just before Hawke throws a knife across the room, and I find the point embedded in the wall near my head.
Like, really fucking close to my head.
"What the hell was that for?" I blurt, shoving to my feet with the rush of adrenaline. "You could've killed me!"
"I'm far too skilled to make a mistake like that," he deadpans, and then he's storming over to me and towering above my small frame. "Do you have a sex addiction problem, Miss Petrova?" he asks, and his voice is far from kind.
“Takes one to know one,” I quip back, and the fury in his gaze is off the charts. Dangerous. Yet again, I get the feeling that I’m playing with fire here.
"Boss," Colt begins, but the look Hawke shoots him stifles whatever protest Colt was about to make. At least he considered standing up for me, I think just before Hawke reaches out and grabs me by my upper arm, probably bruising me. No surprise there, my body is a mottled collection of cuts, bruises, and shiny pink scars from all the training we've been doing. Not to mention I still have some chafing on my wrists from ...
