Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)

Awareness crept back in, bleeding into the moment.

And she knew, as he gingerly pulled out of her, still semi-hard, that he wasn’t done with her yet.



* * *



“You totally had sex with him, you little whore.”

If there was ever a time when Reagan wished she could call off work, now would be that time. She had barely spoken to Shan before the proclamation was out of her mouth, loud enough for anyone in their immediate vicinity to hear her…which included two elderly women that looked from Shan to Reagan as though they were expecting to get the details too.

Ignoring them, she pulled Shan to the side knowing that she wasn’t going to get out of this without telling her something. Reagan spoke quietly, “Do you have to announce it to everyone?”

“So how was it? On like a scale from one to ten? Did he tie you up at all—he kind of looks like he’d be into that?”

“No,” Reagan replied with a roll of her eyes. Lately, that was what Shan was saying about everyone. “Nothing like that.”

“Then like what? Come on, give me something here.”

She wouldn’t—not about Niklaus.

She might have, had it been anyone else that she spent the night with, but with Niklaus…no she wanted to keep that to herself and bask in the memory.

Reagan still hadn’t believed it when she left his room early in the morning, going back home to shower and get ready for work as though nothing had happened.

But something had happened, and she could feel it every time she moved a certain way, the slight twinges reminding her of everything all at once. He had asked for one night, and that had been good enough for her at the time.

Every minute of it was everything she could have ever hoped for, but even as she had walked away, she was already thinking about whether there would be a next time.

She hadn’t meant to, but very soon, she was counting down the minutes, waiting for the new hour to strike to see whether Niklaus would be in around his usual time.

And sure enough…

Reagan was spared answering when the door came open once more, and Niklaus walked in heading for his table.

It was then she knew, even as she went about making his coffee and was gifted with a smile that made her toes curl…

Even two nights wouldn’t be enough.





Chapter Twelve





Their second night together, he showed her quite clearly that she had made the right decision. By the third, she wasn’t sure she could keep up with him, though at least this time he was a touch more gentle with her—not by much. And now here she was, heading to his room for another night climbing over every inch of him. Earlier, he hadn’t stopped by the diner, but he had mentioned that first night that she could drop by any time.

Taking the elevator up to Niklaus’ room, she didn’t bother knocking, sticking the key into the lock and turning, stepping inside without preamble. But when she did, with the lights on, she could see that the bed was made, all the furniture returned to its right position.

Reagan frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. While he hadn’t been a slob or anything with clothes all over the floor or anything like that, but there had been a sort of lived in feel to it when Niklaus was in the room.

The bed was made and looked untouched…

The bathroom was clean, all towels accounted for and resting folded on the towel bar bolted into the wall.

Everything just looked…sterile, or as much as this place would allow. It was like the past three nights had never happened, like a figment of her imagination.

Hurrying out, Reagan stopped at the front desk, ringing the small bell there to get the attention of the man watching the small television behind the counter.

“Pardon me?”

“Yeah?” He turned, wiping greasy fingers along his shirt, his gaze straying to her breasts before back up to her face again.

On a whim, she slid the key across to him. “I just wanted to drop this off for my friend. Niklaus? He’s in room three-eleven.”

The man’s eyes flickered down to the open book in front, before snatching up the key and hanging it next to its corresponding number.

“Don’t know anyone by that name, but thanks.”

Frowning, Reagan said, “He was a little over six-feet, dark hair, blue eyes…”

“Look lady, whatever name he gave you, whoever he pretended to be, that ain’t got nothin’ to do with me. Only thing I can tell you is the guy paid through the night. And I ain’t seen ‘em.”

Biting her lip, Reagan didn’t say anymore, hurrying out before she could embarrass herself any further. Because what more could she say?

She only had his first name, which could have very well not been his name from what the clerk said. But besides that, she knew nothing else.

Not what he did for a living.

Not where he was from.

She didn’t even have a last name.

And worse, he was gone…and he had never said a word.



* * *



Six months later…

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