Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
"Piss in a bottle," Zayne says. "The map shows multiple bathhouses scattered throughout the property."
I scan the room as I listen to him, realizing that this compound isn't all that different from a combat outpost, and hate the familiarity of it because the functionality of the two of them is so far from each other.
I continue to scan the room, my eyes landing on a larger-than-needed smoke detector for the square footage of this place. It feels out of place for such a rustic building, and that makes it more than a little suspicious.
I stare at it, waiting for the small indication light to flash, and when it never does, I look away.
"Top bunk or bottom bunk?" I ask, drawing his attention. When he looks in my direction, I gently nod my head in the direction of the detector.
"Don't matter to me," he says, inching in that direction to nonchalantly inspect the thing himself.
"I sleepwalk sometimes. Remember?" I say, eyes still scouring the room. "I'd prefer not to fall six feet if that happens."
"I'll take the top," he says, turning to look in my direction.
I watch him as he points to his mouth, then nods his head before pointing to his eyes and shaking his head.
We have audio surveillance, not video. I dip my head in understanding. At least we could write notes to each other if there's just something we have to say, and it would go unnoticed. But the idea that we won't have a single fucking private moment scratches at my skin no differently than the sand did when the wind picked up in the Middle East. I just know that, similarly, it's going to be a constant irritation that will be damn near impossible to fully adjust to.
"You don't mind about the bunk?"
Zayne's eyes trail down the length of me that has no business in this situation, within these walls, and of course, it has his exact expected response, my cock growing heavy in my jeans.
I narrow my eyes at him in warning because there's shit all we can do in this cabin, in this fucking compound, about the way he's looking at me right now.
"I prefer the bottom," he says in a tone no different from the one he'd use when talking to anyone else, but it's the look in his eyes that tells me his true emotion. "But the top is fine."
I get the distinct feeling that he's no longer talking about bunk beds.
"I think I would prefer the top, but maybe we can switch back and forth," I say, loving the way his eyes go wide. "I mean, if I don't sleepwalk."
His smile is wide, lighting up his entire handsome face, and damn if it isn't going to be impossible to keep my hands off of him while we're here. But that life-or-death threat is more than enough to keep me in check.
"I'm fucking beat," Zayne says, a true yawn escaping his lips. "Think I'll grab a couple of hours."
"Yeah," I agree, following his lead because the man has been in situations like this before and understands what would be expected of us.
He walks forward and gives my hand a squeeze before climbing into the top bunk.
I kick off my boots and settle into the bottom bunk, knowing full well that my chances of sleeping are almost zero.
***
My brain comes back online before my eyes even open.
My ears home in on every sound, but it's the touch on my body that decides my first response. My arm shoots out, hands clamping around soft flesh just as my eyes snap open.
"Shit," I grunt, releasing Zayne's throat immediately before sitting up. "Sorry."
He rubs his throat, a weird smile on his face, which makes me narrow my eyes. I'm not in a position to ask, knowing there's a listening device in the room, but it isn't the first time he's reacted a little strangely to a hint of pain. The first time it happened, he seemed just as surprised as I felt, but the weird grin tells me he might be leaning into it a little more.
The conversations I need to have with this man are growing by the minute.
"Good dream?" he asks with a wink, taking a step back and giving me room to stand.
I shake my head, attempting to look a little disappointed, but the way the corners of my mouth are curled up, I know it's a battle I've already lost.
"What's up?" I ask with a grunt, stretching my arms over my head, and frowning when my hands hit the low ceiling.
This place almost feels like a cage, but I also know it's the best place on the compound that gives us a chance to decompress. As much as I hate it, I also don't want to leave it anytime soon, although I know that's not possible. We can't get the information we need to end this shit if we stay hidden away in here.