I swallow and look up into his handsome features. “I know.”
His eyes sweep over my face, a myriad of emotions dancing across his. Little by little, the tremor stops, and I become aware of how close we’re sitting, a few inches of space between us.
“Thought I almost lost you there,” he whispers, and I find myself drowning in his gaze.
“Well, then it’s a good thing you found me, isn’t it?”
“It’s a good thing I placed a tracker on the inside of your bra.”
My throat goes dry. “If you wanted to see my bra, all you had to do was ask, Agent.”
I look up at his face and something in me snaps.
Before I can stop myself, I pull him to me, and my mouth comes down on his, wild and hungry. He growls and cups the back of my neck, bridging the gap between us.
I can’t believe this is finally happening.
It’s everything I imagined and more.
When I make a low whimpering noise in the back of my throat, he groans, and his fingers move to my waist. Heat burns through me, and my fingers are already clasping at the buttons of his shirt. I am losing myself completely in the moment, and my mind spins out of control. I feel an animalistic need to have him now, right now, and fast!
When he moves to deepen the kiss, something in the back of my mind screams out in pained logic and warning, and my eyes fly open. I push myself to my feet and take a few steps back, avoiding his gaze altogether.
“We can’t do this,” I whisper, without looking at him.
“What?”
“We can’t…this is…you’re my handler. This isn’t…”
I wasn’t making any sense. I don’t lose my self-control.
He gets up and tries to hold my hand, but I pull back. “It’s been a long day, and I’m in shock, like you said. Yes…that’s it. Shock.” I look up at him and the confusion on his face is like a stab in my stomach. “I’m going to go into my room.”
I race inside, close the bedroom door and slide down until I’m sitting against it, my face buried in my hands.
Shit.What the hell have I done?
Chapter 6: Closer
Matthew
One day later
“Icould do my job better if you stopped interrupting me every hour,” I mutter. On the desk in Jen’s living room, the phone buzzes, showing another message from Simone. I ignore it and focus on the screen in front of me. The camera tucked into the straps of Jen’s bra gives a wide view of the room she’s in and the door on the other side of where she’s sitting.
She keeps crossing and uncrossing her legs.
“Relax, Jen,” I whisper to the screen. “You’ve got this. You’ve come so far.”
And she had.
The mob made contact with her this morning and proceeded to pick her up in the middle of a crowded street an hour ago. They’d driven to the outskirts of the city, ushered her out of the car and into a nondescript building, and now she sat waiting for someone to talk to her.
The camera gives me a little comfort, but it still doesn’t feel enough.
I want to physically be there with her.
With a growl, I push myself away from the desk and lift my arms up over my head. On the screen, I see Jen shift and fold her arms over her chest. I’m tempted to drive down there and make sure she has backup, but I resist, knowing that if they sense anything off, Jen is going to be the one to pay the price.