Page 63 of Until the End

“If you run, you die. The only way you make it through this alive is if you stay by my side. Do you understand?”

He was prepared to continue lecturing her on the insanity of options until his lungs gave out, but she softened in his hands.

Relief seeped through him. He wanted to believe she’d finally let him get her out of this in one piece, but Kit was full of surprises.

“When you look at me, what do you see?” she asked. “A mission? Just another POI, nothing more?”

If only. The job would be so much easier.

She’d taken an insane risk going back to her apartment and he’d almost lost her because of it. A person of interest in his charge. Their only lead to finding out who’d stolen the Z-1984. But the clenching sensation in the pit of his stomach had nothing to do with the mission.

He’d almost lost Kit—a beautiful fighter who challenged him at every turn. Fired him up like he was in a battle zone until all he could think about was his mouth on hers, tangled sheets, her naked beneath him, her fair skin and soft flesh demanding everything he had to give.

Why her spunk and sharp tongue gave him a hard-on was anyone’s guess, but she excited him, held her own with him—not physically, but in a way that mattered more. His dad had been a tough, principled man, and everyone, including Castle, Maddox, and their mother, had bent to his commands. Castle never wanted to be that way. He loved and respected his mother, but he wanted a partner, someone who’d never cower at his imposing size or the flare of his temper.

Careful what you wish for.

Unfortunately, he wanted Kit, the opposite of compliant. All her moxie that he found so irresistibly attractive, for better or worse, was biting him in the ass.

“What difference does it make?” he snapped. “Either way, you stay with me and you keep breathing. That’s the bottom line.”

“It matters to me! Am I only an asset you’re trying to leverage? Or do you see me as someone fighting for her life? As a person who’s scared and alone? As a woman?” Her eyes searched his, pushing for answers he didn’t want to give. “All my life, people have wanted to use me, for my money, my connections, whatever I could give them. And you’re no different.” She sucked in a shaky breath and a single, forlorn tear slid down her cheek. “I have no one left who gives a damn about me. The only person I can rely on is myself.”

“Kit,” he breathed, his voice rough to his ears, the words backing up in his chest. He needed her to get the hard drive, but he also wanted her because of the way she lit him up like the Las Vegas strip. No woman had ever gotten to him like this, aroused such passion, taking him from furious to delirious with desire.

He jerked her body against him, even as he knew it was a monu-fucking-mental mistake.

There were solid reasons to let her go and avoid the avalanche of trouble bound to bury him. But with her so close, her presence dominating the air and his brain, those reasons evaporated.

Her pink lips parted with a startled breath and her fingers curled in his wet shirt, breasts pressed to his abdomen, nipples peaked. For the first time in his life, he didn’t give a flying fuck about making a mistake.

He leaned in as he brought her up onto the balls of her feet and indulged his craving for her, pressing his mouth to hers. The kiss wasn’t soft or exploratory, no thought, no will. Only a driving compulsion. Pure possession.

Then she kissed him back, throwing her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to let his tongue slide over hers. It was like a lit match hitting napalm.

The electric shockwave over his nerves blew him away, making his pulse race and body tighten. Reason dissolved into oblivion, and nothing else mattered.

He drove her backward against the hood of the car with his full weight, claiming her mouth with an intensity he had never expected. The taste of her was sweeter than he had imagined, and he plunged deeper.

She sank into the kiss, her body welded to his, but he couldn’t draw her close enough to ease the building ache.

Blood thundered through his veins the same as it did in a gunfight, or tracking tangos in the mountainsides of Afghanistan, or in the middle of a covert raid.

This time, she was the rush.

Their legs tangled, pelvis to pelvis, and he let her feel the swollen ridge of his erection. She shuddered, arching into him, sucking his tongue.

He clasped the tender nape of her neck and slid his other hand down, cupping the cool, lush curve of her ass that was bare apart from her thong. Her skin was delicate and soft under his fingertips. He relished the feel of her, how she tasted of sex and sin, as his mind raged. She was the worst kind of trouble.

A low purr of satisfaction rumbled deep in her throat and she hitched herself up higher. He drank in the sound, forgetting the wet and cold. There was only this potent heat, burning him up with need. He rubbed himself against the softness between her thighs, wanting more than their mouths could deliver.

Right as she spread her legs wider, accommodating the width of his frame, and palmed the erection straining against his zipper, he broke off at last. If he kept going and got in any deeper—when this went to hell in a handbasket—she was going to be the end of his career.

Their chests heaved, their ragged breaths sawing in and out.

She licked her lips, staying riveted to him.

Fighting with Kit stirred his blood. But kissing her flooded him with raw, naked emotion that seemed mirrored on her face. Aroused. Overexposed. Ready for more.