But none of it mattered then. For one last day I was a Lieutenant in the Marines. And the Captain, bless him, had given me a sweet cake run of a last mission. Essentially a taxi job delivering a black ops asset, shrouded by a heavy cloak of secrecy and need-to-know, back to base.
Viper.
The word alone held power. It sparked a sensual chill that skated along my spine, heated my blood, and snapped nerve ending to tingling awareness. I didn’t know his real name or anything about his life, only the code name and the way he made my body tremble, burn and detonate.
Viper was the ultimate strong, silent type. I’d known him for a year and we’d rarely spoken a word that wasn’t involved with s*x. The perfect man for my needs—all s****l gratification and no messy strings or emotions.
Yes, please.
