We need to honor this connection. I’ll tell him something that matters. I lift a hand to stroke his cheek. Then I trail my fingernail over the pulse point in his neck. I pause, flashing him a sultry smile. “Fine, here’s your something: I could kill you and make it look like an accident.” He stiffens. “Fuck, is that—are you an assassin? Is this like a Black Widow situation and someone’s about to bust through the window?”
