This was wrong. So wrong.
How could I deceive him like this?
But I had come too far. I was in too deep. I couldn’t stop now. And looking up into his beautiful blue eyes, I didn’t want to.
Even with all the lies, I couldn’t walk away from him.
Because I cared about him.
So much.
He was more than the agent trying to find me.
He was my boyfriend.
And that mattered.
I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I’ll be your safe place, Mason. Or at least I’ll try to be. Will you be mine?”
I was having a hard time breathing.
Because I wasn’t feeding him a line. I wanted all of it. Every single, complicated piece of it.
And that was seriously messing with my evil Mata Hari side.
“If you want me to be,” Mason whispered, his voice cracking with emotion that surprised me.
I will destroy him.
The thought hurt.
And it thrilled me.
Without another word I led him through the house and back to the bedroom. He didn’t protest. He followed me without hesitation.
There were times to think about exploits and plans. Now wasn’t one of them.
This was about Mason.
About allowing something for myself. Even if it was a dream. Even if it was only for a little while.
I didn’t turn on the lights. We stood in the darkness. The blinds were drawn, so not even the light from the street penetrated the shadows.
I could hear him breathing. I could smell his musky scent. I could feel the tattoo of my heart against my rib cage.
Then his hands were on me. Pulling me close. So close.
“I still feel like there are words unsaid,” he murmured. I could barely see him. Only an outline. And his eyes.
“Maybe now isn’t the time for words.” I kissed him. Hard and rough. I was terrified of gentle. Right now that would be my undoing.
He pulled back slightly, already panting. Already ready and wanting. “Don’t hide things from me, Hannah. Promise me,” he growled almost aggressively. The deep emotion I had seen just minutes earlier had been transformed.
I licked the salt from the skin at the base of his throat. His pulse fluttered beneath my tongue. He shuddered. I trembled.
He was still feeling edgy. I could tell. Maybe even slightly angry. He didn’t exactly know why. There was something about me that enticed him. Infuriated him. Excited him.
“Everyone has secrets, Mason,” I whispered, pulling away from him, still trying to hold on to the deception. The role of the temptress. But she was breaking apart. Shattering. Tattered and fading.
