CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

" I f you want to exercise, this is the best way to do it." Logan said, trying to ignore the sexy sweat pouring off her.

Her breasts were glistening and her cheeks bright red. As they would be if he were slamming his cock inside her.

"By being your ball-bitch?" Brooklyn groaned, bending over.

Best idea he'd ever had.

When he'd been speaking with Brianna and saw Doug flirting his big biceps off, Logan had hightailed it out of the room.

I'm not with him.

Her words had infuriated him, but he'd hidden it.

Not from Doug. He'd seen it and known to walk away.

Not with me? Yes, sweetheart, you are. My fingers were in your pussy and even I can still scent myself on you.

Perhaps he wanted to punish her for flirting with the vampire. In any case he was enjoying himself. And dare he admit to liking her company?

Logan smirked and tossed another medicine ball into the basketball hoop. "Don't forget the one in the corner."

Brooklyn dropped the one at his feet, then raced off after the new one. He wasn't sure if she was enjoying it or not. The complaints pouring from her were hilarious, and yet she kept going.

Logan tossed another ball and...in the net!

"I'm done." She finally cried, leaning her hands on her knees and then crumpled to the floor.

He walked over and dropped onto the floor next to her. They both lay side by side, staring at the roof.

"Christ, you could be a personal trainer..." Brooklyn panted. "For the Navy SEALs."

"Pretty sure being an assassin pays more." He grinned, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her twist her head to face him.

"Do you really kill people?"

His own head turned to face her. "Yes."

She swallowed. "How many?"

"You hoping I say only one?"

"I don't care." She lied.

"Then why ask?" Logan replied.

Brooklyn turned her face away, but he didn't miss the cloud pass over her eyes beforehand.

Likely judgment.

A human like her would never understand why he did what he did.

Logan glanced back up at the ceiling.

"I don't know. I don't even know why I'm here with you." She finally answered.

"Same."

They lay in silence for a long moment as he listened to her breathing return to normal. Her heart did the same. For some reason he liked listening to the steady pitter patter.

Which was weird.

"Three hundred and twelve," Logan finally said.

Brooklyn's head twisted around, and he faced her once more.

Never once in his life had he told anyone his number.

Why the hell was he doing it now?

Trying to scare her?

Or shock her?

He wasn't ashamed. He'd been not only proud but honored to work for Ari Moretti. Finding out recently that he was the most ancient vampire alive made it even more of an honor.

Logan knew he was doing important work.

For vampires.

For humans.

There were evil people walking this earth. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent of them were humans.

It took skilled snipers like himself to keep those people from doing more harm than they did. Once identified. And once someone was willing to pay them to delete them from existence.

It wasn't the life his mother would have wanted for him, he was sure. His father, possibly. They were long dead.

His fellow assassins were now his family.

"How?"

He knew what she meant. Not how he physically did it—with a sniper rifle most days—but how did he live with himself?

Logan jumped to his feet and stared down at the petite human lying on the floor. He didn't hate Brooklyn Wade. He wanted to fuck her very much.

He'd even enjoyed the silly workout with her.

He reached out his hand. Brooklyn took it and he pulled her to her feet. She bounced off his chest, and he caught her, holding her against him.

Drawing in her intoxicating scent, Logan wanted to purr.

Instead, he growled softly. "To keep innocents like you safe, little mouse. Now, go to bed."

Go before I teleport us back to my room and change my mind.

"I—"

"Go," he repeated, knowing this chemistry between them was a bad idea.

It took a stupid amount of willpower to keep his feet where they were as Brooklyn turned and walked across the training center floor.

At the door, she opened it and turned. Their eyes locked, and she waited.

"Don't make me chase you," Logan muttered, knowing she couldn't hear, but as if sensing his threat, she darted through the door. The desire to run after her and fuck her until she could barely move was so powerful he let out a curse.

The temptation to fuck her, whether he liked it or not, was growing, not fading.

Ari had been clear Brooklyn had his protection.

Now, apparently, she had his.

Logan needed to get out into the field and away from the temptation.