She kissed him back, letting her lips linger against his. On a growl, he dragged her off her seat and onto his lap, capturing her mouth in a deep, fevered kiss.
In the next second, he lifted her, his hands sliding beneath her backside as he pivoted and swung her up onto the worktable. They undressed each other with impatient hands, eager to be skin-on-skin. Some of the papers and stacks of files tumbled to the floor, instantly disregarded.
She hardly noticed or cared.
There was no room for thoughts of vengeance or loss or pain when Rafe had her in his arms.
There was only this moment. Only this man.
And the craving for him that seemed to be growing more demanding, more insatiable, each moment they were together.
CHAPTER 14
Rafe returned to his apartment in Southie as soon as night fell.
He needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes. Even more than that, he needed space to think and put his head back on straight, because the hours he’d spent with Devony were beginning to scramble his ability to focus.
As he soaked under the showerhead in his studio’s bathroom tub, he realized it wasn’t only his physical interest in Devony that disturbed him—although that was more than enough cause for alarm—it was his interest in her happiness that was the greater problem.
What the hell had gotten into him, promising he’d make introductions for her with Tavia Chase and the twins? Bad enough if he’d stopped there, but he’d also dragged in former JUSTIS agent Brynne Kirkland, divulging her relationship with the Order.
All for what? To see Devony smile? To give her some illusion of family after hearing her confess she felt unseen or abandoned by her own?
Her childhood scars weren’t his to mend. He didn’t need to assuage her sadness, especially not with information that wasn’t his to reveal, and promises he wasn’t certain how he could keep.
Not without dropping his cover.
He was treading too damn close to that line already. Sharing his thoughts about Cruz’s gang and Opus. Agreeing to partner with her, for fuck’s sake.
He must be out of his mind.
That wasn’t even the worst of the trouble he was getting himself into where the gorgeous daywalker was concerned.
He’d just been inside her for hours already today and all he could think about was how long before he could have her again.
If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if Devony Winters didn’t also have some amount of the seductive gift that Opus’s mole had used on him in Montreal. But where he had been blinded by Iona Lynch’s mesmerizing, her psychic manipulation of his feelings and his attraction to her, the hold Devony had on him was something deeper.
It was far more powerful because it was real.
She was real.
Not perfect. Not capitulating and meek, but bold, even combative at times. Devony wasn’t the helpless waif he needed to coddle and protect, like the siren who had persuaded him into thinking that was what he wanted.
She was strong and capable, which made the rare glimpses of her vulnerability all the more authentic. Her emotional confessions were all the more impactful because she trusted him enough to let him see there were hidden cracks in her armor.
It made him feel even more protective of her, and that was dangerous territory when his feelings toward her were soft enough.
A shame his feelings were the only thing soft about him when he was near her.
He had tried his damnedest most of the day to keep a healthy distance. Trapped inside her Darkhaven during the daylight hours had been torture when it also meant no escape from his arousal. Sitting beside her, hunkered over notes and reconnaissance files, had proved an exercise in self-control, one he had barely passed.
While he worked diligently to study and analyze the intel that would aid him in his mission, his senses had been trained exclusively on her. The tempting heat of her body next to him. The intoxicating scent of her skin. The sexy, soft rasp of her voice. The curious, searching way her bourbon gaze seemed to peer straight into his soul.
She had wanted him too.
He’d felt the quickening of her pulse as they worked together in her war room. He’d heard the rapid throb of her heartbeat next to him at the table and it was all he could do to block out the enticing sound.
Each time he ventured a glance at her, his gaze was drawn to the pretty hollow below her throat where that steady pound ticked so close to the surface of her skin.
