Page 50 of Code Name: Harbor

I haven’t lied to my father about anything significant since I was sixteen years old and now I’m lying to him about my entire life.

The kitchen timer beeps.

I cross to the oven and with my hands protected by mitts, baste the roast. I set the time for another fifteen minutes and check the clock.

Finn should be here soon.

CHAPTER 13

Finn

Josie’s little bungalow is lit up like a warm hug against the waning dusk. I worked so hard all my life to accumulate my money so that I would never know the poverty I grew up in and so that I could forget about sleeping on the streets. But whenever I’ve referenced my big house on the Sound, it’s always just been “a house.”

“Come over to my house for a cookout,” I’d say to Marcus or, “I’m having that delivered to my house,” I’d say to someone else.

But looking at the small abode where Josie lives, the first word that comes to mind is home and that has nothing to do with the square footage, but rather who’s standing inside.

I shake my head, somewhat disturbed by such notions, because I don’t consider myself to be overly soft in that way.

Still… I can’t deny the pull I’m feeling to the very concept of such normalcy.

I ring the bell and my heartbeat quickens as I see her coming through the frosted glass insets of her front door.

And there she is, in a dress so provocative, feminine and sexy that my mouth goes dry.

It crosses my mind only briefly, the smell of garlic and rosemary, but that dress. It plunges in the front and I can see the outline of her legs through the sheer material backlit by the living room lamps.

“Hi,” she says.

I do not say hi back. Words are frozen in my throat and my chest is constricted.

Instead, I step inside and close the door behind me. Josie’s expression turns wary for all of two seconds before I pull her into me by the nape of her neck. My mouth crashes onto hers before either of us has worked out whether this is the kind of greeting we should be having.

She makes a small sound, almost a purr, and my entire body ignites.

We’ve been apart for less than twelve hours and it’s boggling to me how I can be this starved for something.

Josie’s hand goes to my jacket, mine down to cup an ass cheek. Floating in the back of my brain is the notion she’s put a lot of work into whatever smells so delicious, but the dinner’s going to wait.

She doesn’t say anything about it when I back her against the wall in her foyer. She’s breathing fast and her hands are working to get my coat past my shoulders. I help her by shrugging it off, then run my hand up the outside of her leg, dragging all that see-through material up with it.

My mouth hits her neck and I manage one word. “Bedroom.”

“Down the hall,” she gasps as I nip at her skin with my teeth. “Last door. We’ve got twenty minutes before the roast will burn.”

I bend at the waist, haul her up and over my shoulder and grin at the small squeak of surprise she makes before laughing huskily.

Josie’s bedroom is at the rear of the bungalow, simply furnished with a queen bed covered in a white duvet. There’s a window facing what I’m guessing is the backyard, but the shade is pulled down. A bedside lamp has the room in a soft glow.

I walk straight to the bed and deposit her on it, coming down right on top of her. My mouth is back on hers before she has the chance to draw breath, and I’m kissing her with what seems like zero finesse due to the hunger I have for this woman.

Her tongue is in my mouth, warm and insistently seeking mine. Hands are everywhere and nowhere in particular. Josie’s hips come up off the bed, seeking contact, and when she rubs against my thickening cock, I about lose my mind.

She’s as lost to the fury of lust as I am, and every place her body touches mine is a place that has been waiting an eternity to feel this.

We roll to our sides and my hand once again finds the hem of her skirt to move it up her thigh. Her skin is warm and smooth, and she smells like jasmine and sunshine. I skim under the material, up over the curve of her ass, which is bare until my fingers pluck the top of her G-string. My finger traces down in between the valley of her cheeks, causing her to groan and rotate her hips.

I’m nearly frantic with need so I roll her, push her flat to her back.