Again, I can’t move. It’s like I’m back in the alley with my eyes on his murderous blade.

Gunsyn looms over me like a giant, his hulking frame poised, taut and deadly, his broad shoulders threatening to tear the fabric of his gray, button-down shirt. I search his eyes, hoping to find a sign of weakness or some sign that he might not be serious. But all I see is cold determination supporting a fierce desire. There’s no question about it; he wants me. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such lust in a man’s eyes, and I hate myself for being flattered by it.

“Fine,” he says,...