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“And we want the leverage back,” Sam said. “But without alerting Brylsko so that he doesn’t cover his tracks again?”

Agent 11 smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll make a secret agent out of you yet, Red.”

Sam tried and failed not to preen.

Inwardly, he groaned.

Stupid hormones.

Chapter 5

The undercover training sessions with Agent 11 in the following week were both bizarre and educational. They were fascinating in a way Sam’s more traditional lessons weren’t. Agent 11 thoroughly destroyed most preconceived notions Sam had had about the life of a secret spy.

“First of all, forget everything you’ve seen in spy movies,” Agent 11 said, assembling the rifle in his hands with calm, practiced efficiency. “Most of the time, we don’t participate in adrenaline-ridden car chases, explosions, and gunfire. Most of the time, you’ll be inconspicuous, blending in and gathering intelligence from the inside of whatever criminal organization you’ve been ordered to infiltrate. It’s not actually your job to go in with guns blazing. There are other divisions for that.”

“Are you actually saying that you’ve never had any kill missions?” Sam said, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

“No.” Agent 11 put the rifle on a front-mounted bipod, looked through it and made small adjustments to the sights. “I’m saying that when I’m ordered to kill, it’s quiet and inconspicuous, no explosions involved. But elimination missions are actually pretty rare. It’s not our main job.”

“Then what is our main job?” Sam said, growing confused. “Infiltration?”

When the agent didn’t answer, Sam realized he had put on hearing protectors and was about to take a shot. Quickly, Sam put on his own hearing protectors and watched Agent 11’s focused face.

Finally, the other man fired, the sound deafening even with the protectors. The recoil bucked the rifle into his shoulder, but Agent 11 didn’t even blink.

He hit the target dead in the center.

Pulling the rifle into his shoulder, his hands caressing the barrel as he moved into position, Agent 11 fired several rounds in quick succession, this time without any concern for aiming. He still hit the target dead in the center.

Licking his lips, Sam tried to think of something disgusting. Nope, he wasn’t getting turned on from watching a hot guy handle a gun. Nope, nope, nope. But it might be possible that he had a competence kink.

“What were you saying?” Agent 11 said, taking off Sam’s hearing protectors and then his own.

It was a struggle to remember what they had been talking about.

“Um,” Sam said, very intelligently. “What is our job, then?”

“Our main job is to look someone in the eye and lie. You must be able to lie so well that you can fool even someone who knows you into thinking that you aren’t actually you.”

Sam looked pointedly at the rifle the agent was disassembling. “Why do you need that thing, then?”

“Because things rarely go textbook perfect, no matter how good you are. Of course, if you are a good liar, you might be able to improvise and talk your way out of trouble instead of resorting to brute force. That’s always preferable, but not always possible.” Agent 11 put the rifle away and looked at Sam intently. “Did you study your cover for the mission?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think you understand your cover?”

Sam nodded after some hesitation. He had done his research and had been pretty confident, but Agent 11’s assessing stare was making him question himself again.

“We’ll see,” Agent 11 said mildly, leading Sam out of the firing range and into the nearest empty room. When the door closed behind them, he said, “Strip.”

Sam stared. “Why?”

“Why do you think?”

Sam suppressed the inappropriate response and forced himself to think. “I’ll be naked during the auction,” he said. “You want to check how comfortable I am with being naked in front of an audience.”

The silent approval in the agent’s eyes caused warmth to curl in Sam’s lower belly, and once again, Sam had to suppress the urge to preen. Shit, this was getting annoying—and rather alarming, to be honest. He didn’t want Agent 11’s approval. He didn’t.

“Yes,” Agent 11 said. “You’re Sammy, an adventurous boy who willingly enrolled himself in an illegal auction, seeking a rich sugar daddy to take care of his needs. Nudity doesn’t bother you. You like attention. You know you look good. You’re proud of your body and want to showcase it to attract the best catch possible.” Agent 11 eyed him thoughtfully. “You’re excited. Perhaps even aroused. Hmm… blushing would also be acceptable. You aren’t necessarily a blushing virgin, but you’re smart enough to understand that some powerful men like faux innocence. Now show me that, Sammy.”

Sam took a deep breath and started undressing, trying to get himself into the right mindset. He didn’t want to disappoint this man. He wanted to prove to him that he could do it. He wanted to be good.


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