Eight hours later…
Britt paced the length of the lobby, ignoring the concerned look of the guard manning the desk.
Yes,his pacing made him appear a little unhinged. Yes, his hair was in disarray thanks to the helicopter ride back to Chicago. Yes, he hadn’t been given anything to eat since the cabin, and even though he’d been given unlimited cups of coffee, the swill had been so weak it might as well have been foul-flavored tea.
So yes, he was gaunt with hunger and pale from lack of adequate caffeine intake. And yes, he’d been stuck in an interrogation room for five of the last eight hours, where he’d been forced to give his statement over and over again to different agents who hoped to trip him up just in case he wasn’t telling the truth about any part of the story.
News flash. Hewastelling the truth.
Well…the truth about what happened from the moment Knox showed up at my door,he silently amended. During all his myriad interrogations, there wasonelie he’d held to. It was the lie about being nothing more than a simple motorcycle mechanic.
Given all of that, to say he was in a nasty mood was the understatement of the century. He wanted to breathe fire and bust heads. So yes, he didn’t give a flying fuck if the guard at the desk thought he was one sandwich short of a picnic.
After his time in the hot seat wrapped up, he’d been escorted to the lobby and told to wait. Ten minutes later, Hew had joined him, looking as retched and exhausted as Britt felt. But unlike Britt, Hew had chosen to lower his bulk onto one of the faux leather benches, cross his arms over his chest, and doze.
One of the great tricks spec-ops guys learned early in their careers was how to sleep in impossible positions in wildly unconventional locations. Britt had once caught some much-needed Zs inside an open-air Chinook helicopter flying through a thunderstorm. When he’d still been with the Army, it’d been standard practice for him to take a quick nap inside his transport Humvee while it bounced over uneven terrain. And he’d spent plenty of nights hanging off the side of a mountain on a portaledge—a suspended cot—at altitudes high enough to give a bighorn sheep a nosebleed.
But no matter how badly he mightneedsleep—and thanks to Julia and her insatiable appetite, lord knows I could do with forty winks—he couldn’t calm down enough to make shuteye an option.
Not that he’d trade his night with the sexy, blond agent for sleep.
Hell, no.
He’d have happily died of sleep deprivation rather than pass up the opportunity to get to know Julia O’Toole in the biblical sense.
Like the stories in the bible, the experience had been…transcendent.
He stopped pacing long enough to admire how the late afternoon sun glinted off the surrounding skyscrapers as his mind filled with scenes from the night before. He recalled how the real world had fallen away, and he’d been left with nothing but sensation when she’d first wrapped her succulent mouth around the head of his dick. He remembered how he’d forgotten every pleasurable sensation he’d ever experienced in his life the instant she straddled his hips and lowered herself onto him because nothing had ever felt as good as Julia’s hot, silky walls closing around his length. And he recollected how he’d been instantly lost to her, to the fire between them, as she’d ridden them both to completion.
The memories alone were enough to have his heart beating so hard he could feel it at his fingertips. In his toes. And in, er, other places that didn’t do him any good since he was stuck in the feds’ lobby.
He’d hated watching her get dressed, watching all that lovely soft flesh disappear into those flannel pajamas. He’d hated it worse when she insisted on returning to the couch. But what he’d hated the worst of all was knowing it was over.
Knowing their night together was over.
It’s good that it’s done,he told himself now.It’d be too easy to keep going, to take the leap…and then land on a bed of broken glass.
He resumed his pacing, hoping by moving his muscles that he’d burn off the toxic blend of emotions sliding like oil through his veins and?—
“You're burning calories you don’t have,” Hew’s voice cut into his thoughts. “And you’re making the guard anxious.” Hew cracked open one eye and patted the space on the bench beside him. “Why don’t you come over here and take a load off?”
“Can’t.” Britt shook his head. “Too keyed up.”
“Agent O’Toole will make sure Knox is safe.”
“I know.” Britt nodded. And hedidknow. He trusted Julia to do as he asked, to stay with Knox until they figured out who in the joint task force had outed him.
“Then what’s got you so wound up?” Hew sat up, stretching his neck from side to side. “You jonesing for another hit of the little blond fed? You got it that bad?”
Thatwas enough to stop Britt in his tracks. He slid Hew a calculating glance.
Hew responded with a chuckle. “Don’t worry. Your brother was sawing logs like a woodsman preparing for winter. And Sabrina’s exhaustion finally got the better of her. I’m the only one who heard you and Agent O’Toole smashing naughty bits in the living room.”
“We weren’tsmashing naughty bits,” Britt grumbled.
“No?” Hew raised a bushy eyebrow. “Then what would you call it? Doing some aggressive naked cuddling? Going to Pound Town in the fuck truck?”
“She’s more than a piece of ass,” Britt hissed, making sure his voice didn’t carry to the guard at the desk.
