After that, Lyra could be mine. Whatever that meant.
Knew even as I thought about it, this thing between us would never work. I wasn’t going to stop being a cop. She wasn’t going to stop being a spook. A white picket fence and a couple children wasn’t in the cards for either of us.
“Are you sure your partner won’t tell anyone about this?” Lyra stared out the window, her dark hair pulled back in a braid, the delicate line of her jaw begging to be kissed. “One word and the whole operation could be blown.”
“I’m sure.”
“You trust Jenkins that much?”
“I trust him with my life.”
“And mine? And the lives of everyone else going on this raid?”
“Yes.” We were closer than brothers, tormented by shared trauma and a common need to avenge the people we loved. “If we’re going after the assholes that killed his family, he will do whatever is necessary to see it done. I promise you.”
She turned away from the scenery flying by to study me, her dark blue eyes solemn. Haunted. “I’ve been trying to find these bastards for a long time, Ethan. Years. If I think this isn’t going to work, if I get a bad feeling from him, he’s not going to be involved. I can’t risk losing this opportunity. If I’m not one hundred percent sure about him, he’s out.”
She didn’t say she wasn’t sure about me. I’d take it. For now. “Jenkins will convince you. You’ll see.”
As if the conversation exhausted her very soul, she sighed and turned to stare out the window once more. We were taking a slight detour, stopping to meet with Jenkins on the way to the Atlan Warlords’ compound I’d just found out about an hour ago.
God damn aliens had set up a secure compound right here in Miami and I didn’t know about it. How the fuck was that possible? Every police station within a hundred-mile radius should have been notified.
One more failure of the Feds. One more betrayal to add to their ever-increasing tally. One more secret.
I couldn’t listen to one more lie out of an FBI agent’s mouth. Not one more. I never turned on the so-called “news” these days, other than to watch the weather forecast. Every single word out of the news anchors’ mouths sounded like pure bullshit to me. Didn’t matter what they were talking about. Crime. Politics. The next fake pandemic or local scandal. It was all bad and on screen every minute of every day.
We pulled off the freeway. A few minutes later I rolled the SUV to a smooth stop under a crumbling overpass Jenkins and I had scouted months ago. No satellite coverage. No surveillance cameras for several blocks. A dead zone.
Jenkins was parked in front of us in his boring white sedan. He exited his vehicle and walked around to stand in front of the SUV, waiting for me, staring at her.
She sat, unmoving in the front passenger seat and stared right back. “I don’t like this, Ethan.”
“It’ll be all right. Trust me.” I gave her hand one more squeeze and got out of the vehicle. When she didn’t follow, I walked to her side of the SUV and opened the door for her, relieved when she took the hand I offered and stepped down onto the pavement.
“I’m taking a huge risk. You don’t understand.” She lifted her chin and looked me in the eye, unflinching. Feminine. Powerful.My worn-out dick went to half-wood at her nearness, and that was before I kissed her.
I wasn’t gentle. I held her in place for my assault, deepened the kiss when she melted into me. Kissed me back with matching fire. What I’d intended to be an assurance for Lyra, a comfort, became more as I claimed her mouth, explored her with my tongue, wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me as if trying to mold us together.
A dark, primal part of me wanted Jenkins to know she was mine, under my protection. I needed to mark her, make a statement he would understand. I needed him to fully comprehend what she meant to me, that I would—and already had—taken a bullet for her. Since that moment in the morgue, nothing had changed. My obsession had only grown stronger the last two days, my need for her more intense. I had jumped off the proverbial cliff when it came to this woman and there was no going back.
When I finally tore my mouth from my woman, Jenkins was leaning against the trunk of his car, arms crossed, a bored look on his face. “You going to introduce us?”
I wrapped my arm around Lyra’s waist and walked her to stand in front of Jenkins. “Jenkins, this is Lyra Smith. She’s CIA. She’s working this case, has been tracking the assholes who killed the doc. Lyra, this is my friend, Detective Kevin Jenkins.”
Jenkins was enough of a gentleman that he straightened up and held out his hand in greeting. Lyra reached for him, but I grabbed her wrist before she could touch him.
I expected a scowl. Instead, she leaned into me, accepting of my jealous behavior even as I wondered what the actual fuck I was doing.
“Nice to meet you, Kevin.” Her voice was smooth as silk. Sexy. I wanted those lips wrapped around my dick. Again. Right now. I’d watch her fuck me with her mouth, then throw herdown on the bed, hold her in place and take her from behind until she exploded all over my hard length, taking me with her.
I blinked. Shoved the erotic images to the back of my mind, tried to focus with the smell of her skin sinking into me like sunlight warming my skin.
Jenkins looked me in the eye and laughed. “That’s how it is, huh?”
“Yes. Sorry. That’s how it is.” Fucking insane and I couldn’t control myself. I didn’t want her touching him. I didn’t wany any man touching her soft skin. Only me.
“That’s how what is?” Lyra asked.
