Page 10 of The Spy
I thought we weren’t going to lust after him anymore.
Hell, I was just observing.
Just because he was my boss it didn't exclude me from the nearly constant illicit fantasies about him. Walking around looking and sounding like that.
Not my fault at all. I was a hetero woman, after all, with perfectly functioning eyeballs. Gabe was hot.
And sadly, in possession of skills and qualities that we'd all grown to hate. Without even trying, he could be a massive arsehole. He thought he was always right. Our personalities neutralized each other most times. But to make matters worse, he loved to poke at me just to rile my blood pressure. Almost like family, so there was that.
Off. Fucking. Limits.
I was not going to think about his enormous cock either. Nope. Absolutely not. That was information I was not meant to have.
But you have it now.
I forced myself to focus. "Do we have him? Have you made your pass?"
Lock came across the coms. He was about to make his pass by Disick to swipe his phone, clone it, and then drop it on the floor so Disick could find it later. “Yep. Got him.”
Saff's voice was tight over the coms. "What the fuck is going on?"
Just as Lock was making his pass and accidentally bumping into Disick, the lights went out.
As if timed, a number of glasses shattered, women squeaked and squealed, and people started to frantically move around the large room.
Gabe was terse. "Lights are out. Something is happening."
Because I'd been keeping a strict eye on him, I knew exactly where Gabe was, and when I touched his elbow, he tensed.
"It's just me," I assured him.
"I know."
"Then why the hell did you jump?"
Saff's voice was steady. "King, do you have the phone?"
"Yes, I got it. Problem though."
"Yeah?"
"I got the phone when Disick was on the move. I have no idea where he's gone now."
"Fuck." Gabe muttered and started moving across the room.
I stayed in step with him, my hand on his elbow, following along rapidly. My heels made a clipping sound even in the din of the darkened ballroom. Suddenly, the lights flickered back on, and everybody relaxed and quieted down.
Waiters now leaned down to scoop up shattered glasses. More staff were running to gather clean-up supplies. Several women clutched at their brooches and their purses. Did everyone think this was a heist?
"Where are we going, Spy?"
"This way," he said angling his head toward the stairs.
I followed him because his instincts were uncanny, but the idiot had to learn to communicate better to his team, especially to me. I wasn't a mind reader.
"Any particular reason why we're going this way? I'm your partner here. Can you let me in on any of your thought process?"
He sighed, and I could see his shoulders tense. Well, that was his problem not mine. He had to communicate with me, whether he wanted to or not.
