Her fingers lingered on the trigger as his lips curled into an amused smirk.
"What are you talking about, Frida?" he asked in a husky voice.
His hands trailed up her thighs, over her pubis, and she bit back a moan.
"I'm serious. When were you going to tell me that I killed Alex and Conner?" she asked.
"If you're going to pull the trigger, Frida... then do it." His voice dropped to a deep growl that made Frida's insides churn. She hesitated.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said. In one swift motion, he twisted her ankle, pinning her on the table, her behind pressed against his crotch as he held her down.
"You should consider size when fighting, doll," he purred, and she could feel his arousal pressing hard against her.
She fought to focus.
"If you're not fast enough in combat, you die," he said simply, letting her go.
He stepped back, leaving the gun in her hand. "Fine. Shoot me, Frida," he said, puffing his chest out.
