The words landed between them, heavier than he’d intended. Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out.
She just stood there, close enough that he could see her pulse jumping in her throat, could feel the heat radiating off her skin.
Close enough to cross a line he knew damn well he shouldn’t.
He did it anyway.
Suddenly his mouth was on hers—not gentle, not asking.
As he drew her against his chest, he knew one thing with brutal clarity.
Whatever lines they just crossed, protecting her was no longer part of the mission.
It was personal.
* * * * *
Sinner’s mouth wasn’t tender. It wasn’t careful.
He kissed her until she forgot about right and wrong. One hand fisted the fabric at her back as the other cupped her jaw with a tenderness that made her ache while he plundered her.
He sank his tongue deep into her mouth before pulling back to nip and nibble her lips and making her head spin as he flicked his tongue across hers with maddening little swipes.
Opal made a sound against his mouth—half protest, half surrender—kissing him back with a furious need to erase the memory of the dealer’s hands on her. But that thought only pulsed in her mind for a heartbeat before her own heated desires took over and she threw herself into it.
She wasn’t surprised that he tasted like coffee and sin. What shook her to the core was the heat flaring between them, a wildfire raging out of control and consuming everything in its path.
With a low rumble, he angled his head and claimed her in a hot sweep that made her surge onto her tiptoes, anchoring her arms around his broad shoulders.
A noise grated in his chest, and he broke the kiss, pulling back enough to rest his forehead against hers, breathing like he’d sprinted miles. “I need you to know you’re not alone in this.”
His handsome face swam in her vision. She couldn’t make sense of what just happened. “Why did you kiss me?”
His brows drew downward like two black bolts of lightning. “Because I wanted to. Don’t overthink it.”
Dropping her feet flat on the floor, she inched away from him. He loosened his grip but didn’t let go.
“Those tears—”
“Were human.” His roughened tone felt like a calming stroke over her senses.
“I don’t want to look weak. That’s your job on this op.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and the sight of it knocked what breath she had managed to fill her lungs with right out again.
“Who said we can’t take turns?” he quipped.
She opened her mouth to retaliate. Or maybe to beg him to kiss her again.
“I’m teasing, Opal.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek, right below the scrape.
Feeling the wetness that lingered on her skin, she swiped at her cheeks. God. She really had been crying. After all these years, the sensation was so foreign to her that she didn’t even recognize what was happening.
“I’ve seen this before—your fight-or-flight was triggered. What I haven’t seen before is someone who lives in such a constant hypervigilant state.”
She stilled. “What makes you think I do?”
“Because I watch you. Iseeyou.”
