He let out a sound—a tiny rasp. His hand still lingered at the base of my skull, fingers threading through my hair.
We stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Neither of us moved or spoke. His thigh was between my legs and it should have pushed me into panic mode. Only, it didn't.
Then I felt him move, felt his hot breath on my cheeks, his mouth on mine.
My heart was thundering so loud, I couldn't hear myself think.
His lips were plump, warmer than I imagined. He kissed me, soft and hesitant at first, like he wasn't sure if I'd let him.
I did.
The kiss lasted just a breath—a single, electric second. A shock to my system. But it was enough to send my mind into overdrive. Intense heat spread through my body and coiled just below my stomach. I'd never felt anything this powerful in my entire life. I wanted to look at him as he carefully pulled away. I wanted to see his face properly. I wanted to study each line, to memorize it, to touch it. But I respected his boundaries and his need for privacy, so I remained on the floor with my eyes closed as I felt him carefully sliding his palm from under my head, heard him rise to his feet and move away.
There was a rustle of clothes and the sound of footsteps heading toward the door, followed by the click of the lock.
Then silence.
I waited for a few more moments, breathing shakily. When I opened my eyes, the loft was empty. His bandana, jacket, and gloves were gone along with the muddy boots.
I drew in a lungful of air and touched my still tingling lips. My pulse was out of control. My legs were jelly.
The silence pressed in, thick and absolute.
I stared at the ceiling and traced the shape of his mouth where it'd touched with the tip of my tongue.
It wasn't enough.
I wanted more.
37 seven
I ran through the parking lot.
My body moved as if it belonged to someone else, each joint snapping with purpose, but my head was full of static and noise.
Her mouth felt like heaven, like something pure and absolutely forbidden for a man like me.
Her scent, subtle and sweet, still clung to my skin and clothes. I didn't know how to get rid of it or if I wanted to.
My pulse wouldn't come down. It spiked, then reset, then spiked again as I hit the garage.
This physical reaction wasn't typical on the job. So why the hell was this happening after I'd kissed a woman?
My spare burner—the one I used to talk only to her—buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out and stared at the tiny screen lit up, debating.
I understood it was shitty of me to leave without a word, but my mind was a mess. Anything I said to her right now wouldn't make much sense. Hell, it didn't make sense to me. I needed to sort this out first.
So, I put the phone away.
My brain told me to get in the car. The target's dogs were aware I rode a bike. Every damn mercenary in this city probably knew by now. I'd been sloppy. I'd be easy to spot. But my eyes landed on the Ducati anyway. The bike was parked in the corner, where the cement bled oil stains.
No one knew about this safe house except me, Viper, and Father. Every operative had their own place and other operatives didn't have access. And Iwas certain that Bale Security assholes, who'd been chasing me would never guess this location, and would never track me here.
With that logic, I mounted the bike, jammed the key, and thumbed the starter. The engine's scream kicked me in the chest.
Perfect.
