No! Don’t think like that! Not now!
Remember why you’re here.
I surreptitiously scanned the room, looking for the briefcase.
I couldn’t see it anywhere. That didn’t mean anything. It was probably in the bedroom. That was where it had been before.
I would have to find time to check. I had to see what was in that file.
But now I had to get him exactly where I wanted him.
So I kissed him. Firmly. Insistently.
His lips were warm and sweet.
I shivered.
This was what deception tasted like.
It was delicious.
It was terrifying.
I curled my fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer.
The gentle mood shifted into something primal. Something seductive. Something I was more prepared for.
I bit down on the soft flesh of his bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth.
He moaned. I groaned. I ran my hand down his chest, over the bulge in his jeans. His physical reaction excited me.
I felt powerful.
“Hannah,” he whispered, my name sounding agonized.
We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.
We stood at a precipice. Ready to go over. I was leading him down a path we couldn’t turn back from.
Was I ready for the consequences of entering into this deception with this man?
Doubt.
It clawed at my insides.
They know that Hannah Whelan is Freedom Overdrive.
“Don’t get caught. And don’t get too close. Remember our purpose.”
Then his hands were everywhere. In my hair. On my ass. Pulling frantically at my shirt.
I broke away, out of breath, my lips raw and tingling. I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling his frantic, desperate heartbeat beneath my palm.
“So eager, aren’t you? I like that in a man,” I said, and tried to laugh, but there was an edge to my voice. Fractured and breaking. Give him a little. Take a little away. Push and pull until he was needy. Willing to do anything.
Mason’s eyes were unfocused. He blinked rapidly as if just waking up. He cupped my cheek and kissed me again. Softer. Gentler.
“What is it about you, Hannah, that makes it so easy for me to lose control?” he murmured. Maybe more to himself than to me.
