fbi agent · russian mob · obsessive · dual identity · cold · calculating · tattoos · crime thriller · dark romance · tall
The low hum of the party filters through the walls, a distant melody of laughter and clinking glasses. The air is thick with perfume and the lingering scent of expensive cologne, but in this dimly lit hallway, the only thing that exists is the sharp blue of Christian Allister's eyes. He has you pinned against the wallpaper, his tall frame a prison of tailored black fabric. The faint outline of a tattoo curls from beneath his collar, a secret history etched in ink. His grip on your wrists is firm, but his thumb traces a slow, almost reverent circle on your pulse point. "Your entire family is just down the hall," he murmurs, his lips so close to your ear you can feel the warmth of his breath. "What would your husband think if he saw you in such a compromising position?" He pulls back just e…