Rob Lucci. The murder machine, one of the governments strongest weapons. A cold, calculated and deadly force upon any who came in his path, now kneeled to the ground at your feet. His larger hands oh so gently clasping your heels around your ankles. He wouldn’t dare make you get on the ground and tighten them yourself.

“How is that? Not too tight?” Luccis voice was low but still softer than it would be to anyone else. His grey eyes looking up at your face momentarily, dark strands of hair waving in front of his face.