Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Sam’s stomach rolled. He struggled to keep his expression unchanged. They hadn’t considered this possibility in the pre-mission briefing. According to MI6’s intelligence, Brylsko had always had female sugar babies; he wasn’t supposed to be interested in him.
Calm down, Sam told himself, breathing evenly. He wasn’t actually a slave and it wasn’t a real auction: he could actually decline a contract with the highest bidder if he didn’t like them. The problem was, if Brylsko made a bid for him and won, he would likely be very offended if Sam declined his generous offer. That would be detrimental to the mission: Sam did need to get close enough to the target in order to steal the flash drive, after all.
Fuck. He wasn’t ready for this. It would be a lie to say that Sam had never actually distracted his targets before robbing them, but this was something else. It wasn’t just some meaningless flirting. He couldn’t imagine letting Brylsko touch him, fuck him, own him. The mere thought made him nauseous. He didn’t want to be a whore, not even for the Queen and Country.
Before he could react to Brylsko’s words, a familiar voice said, “He really is quite pretty.”
Sam nearly sighed in relief. Agent 11.
He looked toward the voice and blinked, taking the agent in. He looked… He looked completely different. In the week Sam hadn’t seen him, Agent 11 had managed to grow some nice scruff. While the beard was well-groomed, it changed his appearance a lot, making him look quite a bit older. And that wasn’t all. There was something different about the way the agent carried himself. He no longer looked like a carefully controlled weapon; his posture was relaxed, almost lazy, the cut of his designer suit somehow hiding his impressive physique. He was the perfect picture of a rich, hedonistic civilian. Even his voice sounded a lot posher than it normally did.
Agent 11 and Brylsko exchanged a look that lasted a tad too long before Brylsko smiled pleasantly and stretched his hand out. “Milosz Brylsko. And you’re Dominic Bommer, I believe.”
Sam barely hid his surprise and fear. Agent 11’s name for this mission was supposed to be William Robertson, not Dominic Bommer. Was his cover already blown?
Sam looked at the agent, but he looked neither surprised nor wary. He looked… sheepish?
“I would appreciate if you keep my real name quiet,” Agent 11 said with a small grimace, shaking Brylsko’s hand. He chuckled. “My extended family will be beyond shocked if they find out I’m on a cruise like this.”
Brylsko snorted. “Families. I find that the less they know about our… interests, the better.” His blue eyes turned to Sam. “Isn’t that right, pet?”
“I don’t have a family, sir,” Sam said softly, his mind racing. Had Brylsko discovered Agent 11’s other cover? The one Agent 11 didn’t want to compromise? Did it change something for this mission?
“That’s a pity,” Brylsko said with something like genuine regret. “Do you speak Polish, boy?”
Sam shook his head, hoping beyond hope that it would make him less appealing in Brylsko’s eyes. “I’m not very good at languages, sir. That’s why I’d prefer to live in an English-speaking country.”
Brylsko looked at Agent 11. “Looks like you’re in luck, Mr. Bommer. Or are you Lord Bommer? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with British titles and honorifics.”
Agent 11 shook his head with a rueful smile. “Unless my cousin dies without leaving any sons, I’ll be a simple Mister for the rest of my life. I don’t care for titles anyway. I’m not a snob. Dominic is fine.”
“Then you should call me Milosz.” Brylsko glanced back at Sam. “Are you interested in the boy? You should be. I’m almost tempted, but I’d hate to keep my pet in a country he doesn’t want to be in. That would be cruel, and I’m not a cruel man.”
Sam hoped his face didn’t betray his disbelief—and relief.
“I haven’t made the choice yet,” Agent 11 said, glancing at Sam. “But the boy really is pretty.” He put his hand on Sam’s neck, thumb moving up his throat slowly until it reached Sam’s bottom lip.
This time Sam’s shiver wasn’t caused by disgust.
“Very pretty,” Agent 11 said, his deep voice getting huskier.
Sam didn’t have to summon the blush that heated his cheeks. He knew his reaction was stupid—“Dominic” was just a superb actor—but he couldn’t help it.
“Sammy, isn’t it?” Agent 11 said, glancing at the name tag at Sam’s feet.
Sam nodded, his eyes slipping shut as “Dominic” started carding his strong fingers through his hair. It felt impossibly nice. He could almost understand why all these people wanted to live this fantasy.
Brylsko chuckled. “He seems quite taken with you already.”
“Are you, Sammy?” Dominic said.
Sam forced his eyes open and nodded, leaning into the touch.
He was almost sure he could see approval in Agent 11’s eyes.