Let the Games Begin...
"In my experience, a woman who straps a gun to her leg only does so for one of two reasons." He threw his coat over his shoulder.
"One, she's a killer, a hired assassin." He released the cartridge from her gun and put it in his pocket. "Or two, she's a hired agent." He tossed her empty gun at her. "Until I figure out which one you are, sweetheart, I can't sleep with you. I need to know who I'm fucking. But when I find out, you can bet your sweet little ass I'll be coming back for you."
He took a lethal step toward her.
She held her empty gun to her chest and held her breath. Both of his forearms, the ones that flexed so easily while pouring her drink, trapped her again between him and the wall.
Lowering his head, he glared into her eyes. "But when I return for you, those sexy little moans will be turned into pleasurable, sweet, satisfied cries... The Risque Target