“It’s okay,” I murmur, but the words feel hollow because nothing about this moment feels okay. Not with the way her scent fills the space between us, or how the press of her body against mine ignites something I’ve been trying to ignore.
She tries to step back, but I don’t let her. My hands stay firm on her waist, and I lean down, catching her gaze. There’s fear in her eyes, but also something else. A spark that mirrors what’s burning inside me.
Before I can second-guess myself, I close the gap. She melts into my mouth almost instantly. Her fingers grip my shirt,pulling me closer, and the sound she makes in the back of her throat nearly undoes me.
Her breasts press against my chest, soft against the hard planes of my body. I squeeze her waist, pulling her even closer, and the friction is electric. Her hips shift against mine, and I can’t stop the low groan that escapes me. My self-control is slipping fast, and the heat between us is unbearable.
Her hands slide up to my shoulders, clutching me as if I’m the only solid thing in her world. And maybe I am, because right now, she’s the only thing that matters in mine.
I slide one hand up her back, the curve of her spine fitting perfectly into my palm. The other stays at her waist, holding her firmly against me.
Her lips part, and I take the invitation, my tongue sweeping against hers. The taste of her, a mix of sweetness and desperation, drives me closer to the edge. She leans into me, her body yielding, and I tighten my grip, pulling her flush against me.
I let my hand wander, skimming up her side until my fingers graze the curve of her breast. She gasps into my mouth, and I can’t stop myself from cupping her there, the softness under my hand making my blood run hot. Her back arches slightly, pressing more of herself into me, and I groan against her lips.
The kiss grows hungrier. My hand trails down to her waist, gripping her there while my other hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head to take the kiss deeper, harder.
Her hands move up my chest before looping around my neck, pulling me even closer. Her nails graze the back of my neck, and it’s almost too much.
I shift my weight, turning us so her back is against the porch railing. The move presses our bodies tighter together, and the feel of her curves rubbing against me has my head spinning. My hand skims down to her hip, my thumb brushing bare skinjust above the waistband of her jeans. She shivers at the touch, her lips pulling from mine just enough to let out a shaky breath before diving back in.
My mouth moves down to her jaw, trailing kisses along the delicate line to her neck. Her head tilts back, giving me more access, and I take full advantage, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin just below her ear.
When I pull her even tighter against me, her breasts press against my chest, and the friction is intoxicating. I’m rock-hard, and there’s no way she doesn’t feel it. Her body moves against mine, and the pressure sends a wave of heat crashing through me.
Fuck me.
When she finally pulls back, her breath comes in shallow bursts, her lips swollen from the kiss.
“Mia…” My voice is rough, almost a growl, but I don’t know what else to say.
She shakes her head, her hands pressed against my chest, and steps back, the space between us suddenly unbearable.
“I—I can’t,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “For you guys, this is a job. When it’s over, you’ll all move on to the next client. I can’t let the girls get used to…”
Mia’s voice falters, and she doesn’t meet my eyes. The way she wraps her arms around herself tells me she’s holding back more than words.
“To having protectors?” I step closer, my hand brushing her arm. “To feeling safe?”
Her breath hitches, but she shakes her head. “To having a man in their life,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
Before I can respond, she slips through the door, disappearing inside. The soft click of the door feels louder than it should, like a punctuation mark to her words.
I stay on the porch, staring at the empty space where she stood. Her words hit harder than I want to admit. She’s not wrong—this is supposed to be a job, nothing more. Protect the client, neutralize the threat, and move on. That’s the rule. That’s what we’ve all signed up for.
And yet, here I am, rooted to the spot, replaying every word, every look, every moment I’ve shared with her.
The girls’ laughter drifts through an open window, soft and carefree. I catch myself smiling, thinking of how they’ve started calling me “Agent Zane,” how they’ve managed to chip away at the walls I’ve built over the years. Mia’s voice echoes in my mind, the weight of her whisper heavy in my chest.
She’s right. We’re all crossing lines, and I’m no exception. Damon, Asher, me—we’re all getting too close, too involved.
I lean against the porch railing, staring into the darkened street. Jason’s out there somewhere, waiting, plotting. He’s the enemy, the reason we’re all here. He’s the reason I need to stay sharp, stay focused.
But Mia… she’s the reason I’m slipping.
“Never fall in love with the client, or have personal feelings for them. Keep yourself objective.” The rule runs through my mind like a mantra, a lifeline. It’s supposed to keep us professional, keep us safe. But out here, in the quiet of the night, with Mia’s words still echoing in my ears, it feels like a rule I’m dangerously close to blurring the lines.
CHAPTER 12
