My stupid fucking heart kicks up at the sight of her.
Dressed to kill in a dove-gray pantsuit with a white button-down open at the collar, exposing her delicate throat. Her hair is pulled back in that severe ponytail she usually wears when she’s working, and her thick-frame glasses sit on her freckled nose. I try to remind my dick that we hate her, but the horny bastard doesn’t give a fuck.
“Morning,” she greets softly.
I grunt, unable to manage words now. Not only because my head is still pounding like a motherfucker, but because I don’t know what else to say. Part of me wants to yell at her to get the hell out, but the other part—the fucked-up part of my heart—likes seeing her here in my space. “You were out of coffee,” she says, handing me a cup.
“Thanks,” is all I manage to get out before removing the lid and tossing it onto the counter. “How’d you get in here?”
She smiles, a glint of pride in her silver eyes. “You taught me how to pick a lock the second week we were on duty together, remember?”
I try not to grin as my mind drifts to the past and the first time we met…
The rain had tapered into a mist, coating the black SUV with a fine sheen as the motorcade idled on the private runway. Flashing blue lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a pulse-like glow over the dozen black, suited agents stationed around the area. I adjusted my earpiece, eyes sweeping the perimeter.
“Eyes on the fence line,” I relayed to my team.
Weather elements like rain, wind, or snow always require an extra layer of caution. Too many small details could go unnoticed. But my team was the best, and I knew that without the order, they were all already hyper-aware.
“Agent Cunningham, your new transfer is here,” Agent Miles said over the line.
We’d been stationed here for the last three days, with two rotating teams, as the Vice President visited the areas and families affected by the recent floods in Texas due to Hurricane Uma two weeks ago.
“On my way,” I replied, making my way to the command tent.
Upon entering, my eyes immediately fell on my new agent. With her back to me, she spoke to Agent Miles. Although women were the minority in this field, I’d worked with plenty of strong, smart, remarkable women. Some were tougher than men. I thought this would be no different. But when she turned around and those blade-colored eyes cut to mine, I knew I was in trouble. She was only a couple of inches shorter than me, and her long brown hair was secured in a ponytail. Not a strand out of place. Her honey-toned skin was flawless, free of any makeup, and her full lips were the prettiest shade of pink. But it was her silver eyes that had my pulse stuttering in my veins. They were unlike anything I’d ever seen, and the way she held my gaze made me want to know everything about her.
I have never let my personal life interfere with my professional life. I would never cross those lines. But something deep in the pit of my stomach told me that this woman could very well destroy those lines.
Closing the distance between us, she extended her hand. “Agent Ashford,” she announced.
The smell of her perfume assaulted me as a zap of heat shot up my arm at the feeling of her soft hand clasping mine. Something feminine and exotic.
Fucking intoxicating.
Her handshake was firm.
Confident.
And I immediately wondered what it would feel like wrapped around my cock.
Fuck, I needed to get my shit together.
“Agent Cunningham, welcome to the team,” I said in an even tone.
“Where do you want me?” she asked.
Under me.
In addition to the many depraved, insanely unprofessional thoughts running through my mind, I had this overwhelming urge to protect her, to keep her close.
Was that unreasonable?
Yes.
Did I give a fuck?
Absolutely not.
