Page 5 of Bred By the Mercenary

The mansion’s situated on a hill, offering a spectacular view of the city and its twinkling lights.

“So,” I start, breaking the silence. “I never got your name…”

“Daxton,” he answers with a deep, sexy voice. “And you, little dove?”

“Amelia.” I twist to face him, leaning a bent elbow on the railing. “Why do you call me little dove?”

“Well,” he begins, slipping out of his suit jacket and draping it over the back of a chair from the outdoor furniture set. “When I was a kid, my dad was big into pigeon racing, something he picked up from his father. I was about five when I found this little bird on our lawn. It must have tumbled out of its nest. So, I took it in and nursed it back to health, thinking I’d surprise my dad with a new addition for his races. Only, I didn’t realize it was a baby dove, not a pigeon. Seeing you earlier, the way that guy was treating you, the vulnerability in your eyes, it brought back that memory of my dove.”

I smile at his story, adoring the nickname even more now. The longer I stand next to him, the more I’m drawn to him. Maybe it’s the drinks going to my head, but he’s making it a challenge not to be completely swept off my feet.

“So, where did you grow up?” I ask, admiring the muscles bulging in his shirt and noticing a healed scar curling up from under the collar of his shirt at the side of his neck. His huge six-foot-four height towers over my five-foot-eight, but next to him, I feel safe.

“Just on the outskirts of the city.” His voice blends smoothly with the distant hum of the city below.

“Oh, so you’re a local. What’s your favorite takeout place, and yes, it’s a trick question.” He chuckles, and I might just be in love with the sound that I want to bottle and keep forever. “I could guess, but I’d be wrong.”

He runs a hand through his wind-blown hair that frames his strong face, dancing just over his shoulders.

“I travel a lot for work and spend maybe a few weeks at home during the year.”

“Wow, that sucks. What sort of job have you been traveling so much?”

He glances out over the city, taking a long pause before he says, “Sales.”

I blink at him, expecting him to expand, but nope, it’s just sales. Okay, I take that as his job not being in sales but something private. For all I know, he works for the government as a spy, especially after seeing how effortlessly he dealt with that asshole downstairs. But it’s not my place to grill this guy. Not when tonight we’ve got our masks on, and we can be anyone.

“And are you a local?” he asks, his attention zeroed in on me like he’s the kind of man who takes everything he does seriously. It might be a nice change to the joker I’ve been engaging with lately.

“Yep, all the way back to my great-grandparents. But the city’s huge, and sometimes, it feels like a world in itself.”

He’s grinning. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen you at these parties before.”

I shrug. “I’m not exactly a celebrity or anyone famous. Just a simple waitress at a local joint. And from what I hear, the guy who lives here only invites the richest and most famous… Personally, I think that’s a bit elitist, but whatever. I got an invite through a friend’s sister, so he’d probably clutch his pearls at seeing a mere normal person at his party.”

Daxton barks a laugh, his white teeth showing, making me wonder what exactly his line of work is if he got invited to such a place. In truth, he looks like he fits here.

“I’m glad you came tonight.” Facing me, he presses his hip against the railing while his hand slides over the railing to mine, cupping it. “It’s refreshing to meet someone real in this place.”

As I place my hand over his, drawing closer, my heart thunders with excitement and anticipation. I’ve never been with a man who looks like him… well, as much as I can see of his face. The way he treats me and talks to me, it’s refreshing, and I want more.

Pushing closer, my chest against him, my breaths racing, I snake my arm up to his hair over his shoulders and curl itaround my fingers. I glance up into those deep green eyes that make me want to drown in them, just so he can come rescue me.

The night’s cool, but the heat around me feels like a blazing fire. I’m taking a leap here and hoping I’m not wrong.

He doesn’t respond to my advances, and I can’t read his thoughts. Maybe it’s better not to overthink this. What I want is a night with a knight in shining armor, and now that I’ve found the hunk, I’m struggling to get my head out of the gutter and how much I’d love a night of wild fucking and him making me scream from orgasm after orgasm.

I lift myself up on tippy toes, my eyes on his lips.

“Are you sure this is where you want to go, little dove?” His voice is low, carrying a hint of caution that sends a jolt through me. His words suddenly make me second-guess everything. Did I misread his intentions? Is he not interested in me?

“Sorry.” I blink, confused and embarrassed. “I… I didn’t mean to… I don’t know,” I stammer, pulling back. “I’m such an idiot.” I turn away from him, trying to hide my burning face.

His chest presses flush against my back, and his size inhales me. Then his warm breath dances across my neck. “I never said to stop. I want more…” His voice is a whisper, and my insides melt from our closeness.

“You said…” I whisper back, struggling to find my bearings. I’m not normally one who picks up random guys for a one-night stand. I met Ryker at a library, which says everything.

But with Daxton, things feel different. At least, I thought they did. Even now, his pressing against me is making it hard for me to think straight.