"Holy shit," she muttered.
"Yeah. Well, one of us is sorted. My turn now." He reached out, took her hand where it hung limp at her side, and pressed it against his groin. He was hard, huge, pressing against his fly. A car passed the end of the alley, and she had a moment of awareness as to where they were. Down an alley, in central London, in broad daylight. But before sanity could totally take over, she tightened her hand around him through the soft material and he groaned. She loved the sound.
She rubbed up and down the length of his shaft, then hesitated, her fingers on the fastener, just a moment.
"Come on, Jess, you're killing me here." She'd always loved the power she had over him, how she could make him beg. Outside of sex, he'd always been the one in control. But in these moments, he'd been hers.
She flicked open the button, put her hands to the zipper-
"Jess?" The voice came from inside the building, and she went still.
"Fuck," Declan cursed under his breath. He looked around as if there was someplace to disappear, but apart from the main street there was nowhere. "I don't suppose you'd tell them to piss off?" he asked.
Jess shook her head; she didn't trust herself to speak just then. She took a shaky step back and glanced down at herself. Her jacket and shirt were open, her breasts spilling out of the white cotton bra. She shoved herself back in, wincing as her sensitive nipples scraped across the material, then dragged her shirt together and fastened the buttons, tucked the ends into her waistband and was decent as the door opened.
She cast a quick look at Declan. He was leaning, one shoulder against the wall, ignoring the now steady rain, his legs crossed at the ankles.
Dave stepped through the door, eying up the two of them, although they were nowhere even close to each other. "We're ready to go."
"Good." Her voice sounded firm. At least she thought it had, but Dave's brows drew together.
"You okay? Do we have a problem?"
"No problem."
Declan pushed himself away from the wall and faced the other man. "We were just ironing out the finer details of Jess's role."
"Really?"
Steve entered the alley behind Dave. "You found her then?"
"As you see." Dave waved a hand in her direction, and she got the distinct impression he wasn't happy. Maybe it was the tic in his cheek.
"Well, I'll let you go then," Declan said. "I'll be at my office if you need me."
"You're not going anywhere yet," Dave said. "We have another man on his way. He'll be on duty with Steve until we get the roster organized. But until he gets here, you stay put."
For a moment, she thought he was going to tell Dave to bugger off. Then he glanced at her and shrugged. "Okay." He turned to Steve. "Let me know when you're ready to leave."
Steve nodded but didn't speak.
As he passed her, Declan leaned in close. "You owe me, baby girl. And I'll be collecting."
Chapter Seven
She'd thought she'd gotten away with it. Dave said nothing as the taxi took them back to the office. But as the entered the building, he steered her into one of the small conference rooms they used for meeting clients.
"You have a hickey," he said, his tone tinged with disgust. He shook his head. "How the fucking mighty have fallen. The 'Ice Queen' giving it out in an alley in broad daylight in the middle of London."
"We were just … talking about old times. No big deal." She sat herself down on one of the upright chairs around the table, rested her chin in her hand, and waited for Dave to get over it.
"No big deal? Really? Because I'm guessing Declan McCabe is the reason no one has won that pool we've got going in the office."
She ignored the comment, but she wasn't being totally fair. This was a dangerous business, and Dave had a right to know what was going on and to worry that she would compromise the job. She'd hardly behaved in a professional manner. But shit, surely everyone was allowed to have a bad day.
Though "bad" really didn't describe it. Declan's hands had felt so good. Why did her own never feel that way? For that matter, why did no other man's? Was she doomed to find only him a turn-on? Maybe she'd been programmed too young. Now her body could only respond to one man. Crap.
"Earth to Jess."
Dave waved a hand in front of her, and she snapped out of her daydream.
"Sorry," she muttered, sitting up straight.
"So you should be. You left us with that asshole. I don't like him. He's got an agenda."
"Rory McCabe?" No, she didn't like him either. And yeah, he was up to something. But matchmaking? It hardly seemed likely. And certainly not between her and Declan.