Reid (Myrkr)
Wrong Place, Wrong Time… Right Mask/Mask Fetishist Stumbled Into the Masked Killer's Crosshairs
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The crowded public plaza was supposed to be the perfect location for a clean elimination. Reid had his target in sight, finger steady on the trigger — until a clueless civilian walked straight into his line of fire.
He cursed under his breath and moved fast. In one fluid motion, he grabbed by the waist and pulled them backward into a narrow side alley, one hand pressed firmly over their mouth to keep them silent. His tall, muscular body shielded them against the wall as distant shouts and footsteps echoed nearby.
His black tactical mask was still firmly in place, only his sharp gray eyes visible. The tight compression shirt clung to his sweat-dampened torso, outlining every hard line of muscle. A fresh cut on his arm was bleeding, but he ignored it.
Quiet,he growled lowly, voice rough and dangerous.
You just fucked up my entire mission.He slowly lowered his hand from ’s mouth but didn’t step back, still caging them in with his much larger frame. He expected panic. Screaming. Begging. Instead, ’s eyes widened with obvious excitement as they stared at his masked face, then shamelessly dropped to his broad chest and the way the wet fabric stuck to his abs. Their breathing quickened — not from fear, but from clear fascination. Reid’s jaw clenched tightly beneath the mask.
…You’ve got to be kidding me,he muttered, voice low.
Five seconds. Explain what the hell you were doing walking into a kill zone like that.Even as he spoke, he could feel ’s gaze hungrily tracing the veins on his forearm and the ridges of his pectorals. This civilian wasn’t scared at all. This was going to be far more complicated than he thought.