Dying Assassin Read Online Free PDF Page B

have no friggin' clue," he giggled. "I mean, existing charities are great, but maybe we could do more on our own. Does that make sense?"
    "Smart and hot. How did I ever get so lucky?" I asked, my hands roaming his body.
    "You saw more in me than a common street whore," Ryder replied quietly. "For some crazy reason, you believe in me and it's why I love you so fucking much."
    "I saw, and still see, a gorgeous, tender man who was put in a horrible position and who wanted to get away from it. All I did was help you do that, you did everything else, Ryder," I said honestly, staring into his eyes.
    "Make love to me, Spencer," he said, running his fingers through my hair. "I need you so badly right now."
    "We'll be back," I said to Luc and Dean as I flew out of my seat. Ryder wrapped his arms and legs around me as I raced up to our room. I had just laid him down on the bed and pulled off my shirt when the doorbell rang. We shared a horrified look, both of us hoping it wasn't another package, then raced towards the front door.
    "What do you want with, Spencer?" Dean growled as he picked the small man up by the shirt. "Are you the follow-up for the bomb?"
    "Bomb! What bomb?" he squeaked as he held onto Dean's forearms. Ryder and I ran down the stairs and joined them in the foyer. "Mr. Payton sent me to speak with Mr. Fallon about a few business things."
    "Like what?" I asked as I put my hand on Dean's shoulder. When I got that close to them, the smell of death filled my nostrils so severely I wanted to gag. "Dean, let him go, he's sick."
    "How did you know?" The man gasped, growing even paler as Dean lowered him to his feet.
    "You have all the physical markers," I answered quickly, realizing I'd given away too much. "What do you have, six months?"
    "Three," the man whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "I have stage four, incurable lymphoma."
    "I'm sorry," I said honestly. "I'm Spencer, these are my partners Dean and Ryder."
    "Ethan Beckham," he replied, extending his hand, which I shook. "May we speak in private?"
    "No," Dean growled, looming over the much smaller man. Ethan couldn't be more than five-four and a hundred twenty pounds dripping wet. But he was breathtaking. His features were so delicate and alluring, I had trouble not staring. He had ear-length, jet black hair and eyes so light blue they almost looked lavender.
    "I don't keep anything from my partners, Ethan," I answered. "Plus, I don't think Dean trusts you."
    "Okay, well, Mr. Payton had some concerns about the changes to your will," Ethan said, his eyes darting around.
    "I'll just bet he did." Ryder snorted from behind me. "Fucking bastard."
    "Let's take this conversation into the living room," I said, feeling as if I would need to sit down for this one. Ryder led the way as Dean pulled up the rear. Once we were all seated, Ethan opened his briefcase and handed me a few papers.
    "Mr. Payton understands your desire to change the will so your partners are benefactors," Ethan explained then cleared his throat. "The only changes he had issue with were who runs the company if you should die. None of your partners have the skill set or education to run a multi-billion conglomerate. Mr. Payton would like to suggest that instead they are allowed to name a trustee in their place as long as the board approves their candidate."
    "That sounds reasonable," Ryder said, glancing at me.
    "It sounds like Payton's trying to cover his ass since the bomb didn't kill you," Dean replied. I looked at him; surprise must have been written all over my face, because he continued. "You didn't die, Spencer. He's scrambling to make it seem as if he doesn't have a problem with the will, just a few suggestions so that the focus is off of him."
    "I really do love smart men," I purred, rubbing his thigh as I leaned in to kiss him.
    "Wow," Ethan gasped, getting our attention again. "Sorry, didn't mean to say that out loud."
    "You have a problem with us kissing in our own home?" Dean asked, raising an