Quinton Mann is CIA through and through. Mark Vincent is WBIS for life. There is no way they could end up as anything other than adversaries -- and yet, Quinn takes Mark out to dinner on his birthday -- the one no one is supposed to know about -- and gives him one hell of a present in the restaurant's restroom. Mark, not to be outdone, has decided to escalate this game, because it has to be a game, right? There's no way it can be anything else.<br><br>But as the game continues, as Quinn shows up to a WBIS funeral, as a friend of Mark’s penetrates the CIA computer network to get information on Quinn, as Mark breaks into Quinn's house and gives Quinn a very interesting encounter, both Quinn and Mark realize that this is becoming the most real thing in their lives.<br><br>Can they find a way to do their jobs and keep this surprising, intriguing connection?

Houseboat on the Nile

He got into bed and was out before I could count to ten, the comforter still folded at the foot of the bed.


The drugged water had done its job nicely, and he slipped into REM state, sprawled out like The Naked Maja. A vision to behold.


I licked my lips, trying to get my breathing under control, so hard I ached. If I didn’t want it to be touch and go as to who came first, I’d need to do something about that. I reached into my jeans and gave myself a hard squeeze.


When I was sure I wouldn’t do anything juvenile, I placed the syringe with the antidote on the nightstand, put the vial I’d need later beside it, and shed my jacket, leaving it over a chair.


I pulled out my knife and pressed the release. The blade flashed in the lamplight, sharp and deadly. I ran it up through the waistband of his pajama bottoms, and it cut through the soft material as if it were butter. His cock sprang free, fully erect. Drops of precome were beaded at the tip.


Chapter 51