The Two and the Proud(5)

“Okay, I’m usually pretty good at following a train of thought, but I think yours got off somewhere and caught a cab to the next station. You’re not interested in the one-night stand after all?” The first sentence came out as sassy as any she delivered downstairs, but the question echoed with a quiet vulnerability. It revealed a chink in her armor, an utter femininity. It attracted and baffled in the same breath.

“Didn’t say that.” A knock on the door interrupted and he answered it long enough to accept the lime and salt, passing the waiter a quick five and a “thank you” before shutting the door in his face. He carried the condiments over to the bar, opened the tequila and filled two shot glasses. “Lose the jacket and come have a drink with me.”

Her lips pursed and for a moment, the barest of moments, he thought she might refuse. She stripped off her jacket and hung it over the back of a chair next to the window. She wore a shoulder holster with a nine millimeter strapped under her arm.

Eyeing the gun, he waited.

“No one leaves the office unarmed. Standard procedure.” Her explanation made sense, but rang as hollow as his earlier deflection.

Hollow.

He snapped mental fingers. She’s been deflecting since the opening bit downstairs with the shoes. He could almost hear his libido release a low groan. Agent Kim Wakefield was no more comfortable with this night than he was—she simply played it better—keeping him off center and distracted until….

What? She fucks my brains out?

Not sure how those results could be a bad thing, he tapped the side of the shot glass. “Put the piece in the safe. They have the kind you can program here. I’ll keep my eye on the tequila.” He wouldn’t have tried to memorize her combination anyway, but he didn’t miss the minute relaxation around her eyes when he told her he’d watch the drinks.

True to his word, he kept his attention on the alcohol while she stowed the gun. When she leaned against the bar next to him, he pushed a shot glass over to her. “Let me preface this by saying I absolutely want to have sex…but I don’t want to be limited by the one-night stand.”

She hesitated in mid-reach for the glass and stared at it, not him. “Clarify?”

“I like you. You’re smart—which is both good and bad.”

“How can it be good and bad?” Her chin came up and she swung a hard gaze at him. Temper flared beneath the surface, bright as the lightning outside, enhancing the outrage in her eyes.

Gotcha. One little nudge to crack the cool façade and the passionate woman beneath glared at him. Yeah, that’s more like it. A second knock on the door interrupted, and he let her think about it while he took the tray from room service and sent them away. He set the food on the luggage stand and ignored it for the moment.

Sprinkling salt onto the side of his hand, he said, “It’s good, because it’s sexy.” He licked the salt, tossed back the tequila, and finished the ritual by sucking one of the lime wedges. “It’s bad because you’re playing a game with me.” He poured another shot since the first had warmed his gut and loosened more of the tension. He’d barely added more salt to his wrist when she caught his hand and stroked her tongue over his pulse point before gliding along the side of his hand to take the salt.

All the blood in his head rushed south and he let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

She slammed back her own drink and sucked on a lime, her gaze never leaving his. “Courage isn’t doing something because you know you can do it.” She moistened her lips and he couldn’t look away. “It’s doing what you’re not sure you can be successful at.”

Rowdy poured another shot and damn near swallowed his tongue when she offered her hand, the salt waiting for him. Taking the bull by the horns—or the agent by the wrist, as it were—he sampled the sweet flavor of her skin under the condiment.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he assured her. Hell, the last time he’d forced a woman was never, and he had no intentions of starting now.

They took turns with the ritual, her tongue laved against his palm and his balls went tight. He pressed the lime wedge to her lips after she finished her drink. He could almost see the hard tips of her nipples through her shirt when he bent down to lick salt from her fingers.

Her free hand glided under his chin, tipped his face to look at her, and their mouths collided. He wasn’t entirely sure which of them initiated the kiss, but their tongues dueled for dominance. Cupping his hands on her ass, he lifted her. She locked her legs on his hips, and it took four steps to get to the bed. They landed together, on their sides, facing each other and he delved deeper into her mouth, tasting the traces of their drinks.