The spy
His sinful hands traveled to her waist as she looked at him; her breath hitched as he traced her belly button
“You are so vulnerable right now,” his gaze landed on the gunshot wound on her chest, just between her breasts. The fact that she was not wearing a bra right now was very distracting. Even with the scar she was so beautiful.
“So are you,” he whispered keeping the gun in her hands.
The heat of their graze did not help with the hot atmosphere of the room; this was deadly.
“We can’t deceive both agencies,” her murmur was soft, unlike the sound of his harsh breathing.
“We can, we will,” He looked straight into her eyes as her lips trembled. So unlikely of the girl she was.
“It's a matter of two countries,” she whispered, her last straw against him, she knew she would give up if he had an answer to this. That she would let go of the lust suffocating her insides after this.
“It's a matter of two hearts,” her eyes snapped to his immediately.
“I can't seem to forget the little girl who took a bullet for me,” He said as her lips parted in shock.
“You… knew?” she could not form more words.
He could not find himself to answer anything else than a nod, he was deceiving her in the name of love.
‘Ya Allah, why do I have to do this?’ she asked her god taking her eyes away from him for a second.
“It's the matter of two hearts, two bodies, two souls…” and two deceivers, the word they both so wanted to add but couldn’t.
“Have me,” He whispered.
“Take me,” she obliged
In which she deceived him before he could deceive her
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