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My eyebrows knit together, and I quickly shake my head. “I don’t mind. I just don’t want you thinking… I… ah… you didn’t have a choice.”

God, JJ.

His eyes lock with mine, and as the seconds tick heavy between us, my stomach knots with nerves, and my palms start to sweat.

Grumpy, closed off, but still, I can’t stop falling for him. What the hell is wrong with me?

To my surprise, he murmurs, “I want to go to the wedding with you.” His tone is gentler than it usually is.

Goosebumps scatter over my skin, and O’Brien’s so damn perceptive, his eyes instantly drop to my left shoulder before burning a path down my arm. “You cold?”

I suppress the urge to swallow hard and gesture to the road. “Just a little chilly. We should get going.”

He leans forward, and when he shrugs out of his jacket, I can’t keep my eyes from widening and my heart from dancing with joy.

He holds the luxurious fabric out to me, and our fingers brush when I take it from him, sending streaks of electricity pulsing through my body.

A little breathless, I whisper, “Thanks.”

I drape his jacket over my shoulders, and even though it’s a warm afternoon, I still snuggle into the fabric, inhaling a deep breath of the cologne I’ve become addicted to over the past three months of working with O’Brien.

God, the man looks devastatingly handsome with the black vest complementing his trim waist and broad chest.

Finally, O’Brien steers the car away from the curb and down the road. Needing something to fill the tense air between us, I turn on the radio before relaxing back against the seat. I pull the jacket tighter around me and slowly dip my chin to steal another whiff of the delicious scent woven into fabric.

Three months of working with Daniel O’Brien. Things are much better between us and not as explosive as they used to be. I’ve learned a hell of a lot about surveillance and the Bregu Syndicate.

I’ve also become comfortable with O’Brien’s silence and know not to ask questions about his personal life. He has opened up on his own, though, telling me about his happy childhood and how much his parents loved him. I could tell he still misses them a lot.

I’ve learned little things about him. How he loves his coffee scalding hot. How he and the chief grill steaks once a month, and unless he’s undercover, he won’t miss it for the world. His love for his cars that he built with his father. That he’s more comfortable in jeans than a suit, and when he lets his guard down and laughs, tiny golden flecks explode in his eyes.

Like I said, I’ve learned a myriad of little things, and every single one feels like I’m uncovering a treasure.

Getting to know the enigma that’s Daniel O’Brien has equally become my favorite thing to do and heartbreaking because there’s no stopping myself from falling in love with my partner.

My stomach sinks, wishing I could stop my feelings for him. The partnership I’ve built with him is too important to risk. I’ve gained his trust and respect, and I won’t risk it for anything.

And he’d probably pity, or worse, laugh at me if he had to find out how I feel.

That can never happen.

O’Brien

I’m accompanying JJ to a damn wedding because I want to make sure none of the single fuckers hit on her.

Just as well. She looks fucking breathtaking in the dress with too much creamy skin on display.

Breathtaking is not the right word.

Christ, my heart stopped at the sight of her, her makeup just enough to put a goddamn spotlight on her beauty. Her slender arms making me feel like a damn overprotective caveman. Toned legs made to be wrapped around my waist while I dominate her with my cock.

I shake my head to clear my mind of the thoughts before they can spiral into a fantasy where I make her beg and cry for her orgasm.

Fuck.

Shooting JJ a glance and seeing her wrapped up in my jacket, possessiveness shoots through my veins. My gaze falls on her lips, a light pink gloss making them look like juicy strawberries.

What I’d give to see that mouth wrapped around my cock.

Stop it!

Clearing my throat, I focus on the road, using brutal fucking strength to suppress the desire I feel for her.

Christ, it’s becoming painful in more ways than one. Every fiber of my being wants to make JJ mine. I’m starting to think I’m a masochist. I won’t give in to my desire for her, but I won’t distance myself from her either.

Instead, she’s become my partner. We’re practically joined at the hip because I fucking itch and become jumpy when she’s not near me. Like a fucking addict that needs his next hit.

JJ’s become my drug of choice, and goddamn, it’s either going to destroy me or drive me insane. Nothing good can come from my feelings for her.


Tags: Michelle Heard Crime