Chapter 20 #2
Her attention wandered to the three framed photos stacked on the hallway floor just outside the door, a hammer resting on top. She kept her focus fixed on that red-handled hammer, a pounding sensation driving into the side of her head as if the hammer were hitting her.
“Anastasia.” And there it was, his concern from earlier coming back into play.
She heard it in his voice, in the way he’d dragged out her full name.
He was about to lay something on her he knew she wouldn’t want to hear.
“The idea of you going anywhere near the Volkovs still makes me a bit crazy. I don’t trust they won’t kill you the second they have what they want.
” His husky tone had her drawing in a deep breath and standing.
She took a step closer to where he remained in the doorway.
“The FBI gave you a new identity for a reason, to keep you safe.”
“I completely understand that this entire situation makes you uncomfortable. You’re taking a lot of risks, and I know you hate this.” She tensed when he finally stepped into the room, his gaze focused intently on her.
“I can’t help but hate anything that involves putting you in danger,” he answered honestly.
The throbbing in her temples kicked up as a concerning thought came to mind. “But you won’t try and stop me from meeting with them, right?”
A.J. crossed the room to get to her and cradled her face between strong hands, no hesitation whatsoever. His thumb moved in small circles on her right cheek. His light green eyes thinned. “Whatever you need from me, I’m here for you. No matter what,” he said softly.
“Even if it means crossing lines?”
A small smile graced his lips while his fingers threaded her hair. “My job is all about crossing those lines, don’t you worry.”
Was he for real? “And for some reason”—she leaned in closer, her hand going to his hip—“I’m not worried.”
“We do have a rule on my team. No solo ops. People die when they’re on their own, and I know you have Porter, but you’ve got me, too. Okay?” He continued to swirl the pad of his thumb over her skin, his touch and words lighting up everything inside of her.
“I never set out to be a Lone Ranger.”
“Wrong state,” he teased and brought his mouth closer to hers. “I really want to kiss you right now, but if I do—”
“You won’t be able to stop.” Her eyes fell shut as reason and responsibility nearly faded from her thoughts. But then a question whirred to mind. “Have you really not been with a woman since you saw me in Charlotte?” she murmured curiously.
His mouth closed in on the side of her neck, and he worked his lips to her ear. Her hands slid up the sides of his torso, over his tee as she braced him for support.
“Did I confess that on my voicemail?” he asked, the depth of his Southern voice hitting her like a soft-cushioned arrow right to the heart.
“Yes,” she croaked out when he nibbled on her earlobe. “Is it true?”
“It’s true,” he admitted.
Her fingertips bit harder into his sides when his breath touched her ear. He kept one hand on the back of her head, the other went to her hip, and she wanted more than anything for him to take off her robe. Kiss her all over. Work his way down her body. But, but, but—damn her brain.
He released her suddenly, taking her by surprise, and when she peeled her eyes open, he was standing a foot away, dragging both palms down his face.
“Yeah, I can’t do much thinking about Russian espionage when you look and smell so good.
” He took another giant step backward like maybe there was a line he had to get back behind, even though he’d just admitted he was all about crossing lines.
“I know it’s late, but how about we get some food in our stomachs and talk?
” His fingertips raced down his tanned throat and then he set his hands to his hips.
“Unless you have something else on your mind you’d like to do right now?
” He was letting her set the pace, but he sounded hopeful.
“Dinner and work talk.” Getting those words out was harder than she’d anticipated, especially because desire swelled to epic proportions inside of her.
A brief touch of disappointment flashed across his face, or maybe she’d read him wrong. Hell, maybe her skills were on the fritz while on the run and in this Alabama heat? But then he surprised her with a big smile.
“What?” she asked.
“I’ve been waiting nearly a year for you,” he said, his tone a touch hoarse, “and the reasons are shit, but I’m just happy you’re in my life again, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I don’t—we don’t need to rush, just so you know. We are in the South after all. We can take things slow.”
“Are you real?” she softly blurted.
He patted his chest, sides, then chest again. “I think so, but I have been seeing ghosts, so . . .”
“Wait, what?” She smiled, but well, she was also worried maybe he wasn’t kidding given his recent bumps on the head.
“That’s a story for another day. I think we’ve probably hit some sort of record when it comes to what a human can handle in one day, right?”
“You might be right.” She drawled out the word “right” to imitate him, and he grinned. That cocky one he liked to shoot her way, and she’d never dare admit how much she loved it.
“So, dinner and strategy, then?” She pointed to the door, but he shook his head. “What?”
“Clothes first.” He lifted his hands as if praying for strength. “Otherwise, the only strategy we will be discussing is the many different ways I can make you come.”
Her thighs tightened.
It was only Tuesday night.
Two more full days and three nights with this man . . .
He may have proposed they take their time and not rush, but Ana had the feeling that this time she’d be the one standing before him begging. Begging him to show her all the different ways he could make her come, regardless of the fact she had to focus.
Begging. Yeah, one more item on her “Things She Never Did Before A.J.” list.
Multiple orgasms would be something new, too, and heaven help her, the way A.J. was peering at her with those gorgeous green eyes of his and that sinful smile . . . multiple orgasms was going to make it to the top of her freaking list. And that one, she wouldn’t even mind.
“You were right about needing food. I don’t do hungry well.” Ana sat back in her white chair at the square, four-person table in the breakfast nook where they’d shared the pizza and held a hand over her abdomen.
“I honestly don’t know anyone that does hungry well, and I’d be worried if they did.” A.J. reached across the table and refilled both their glasses with the red wine they’d had by the pond earlier.
They’d yet to talk about work. Instead, A.J. had peppered her with questions about herself for the past hour, and if she weren’t worried about his motives, she’d think he was crafting a source identification package on her.
And the crazy thing? She’d freely given every detail, her walls basically nonexistent around him.
“He really wasn’t the right one since I was never able to confide in him,” the admission whooshed free from out of nowhere after sipping more truth serum, aka, wine.
A.J. set his palms on either side of his gray placemat. “Your ex?”
Kyle was one topic A.J. hadn’t pressed her on in the last hour, and she had a feeling he didn’t want to cross that particular line without an invitation first. “Yeah. I just think it’s wild that you literally showed up at Porter’s house”—she glanced at the big white clock on the wall off to her right—“twenty-five hours ago, and you already know the truth about me. I’ve known Kyle for five years, and he’s clueless. ”
“Guess you didn’t have much of a choice in telling me considering our situation.” He reached for his glass, and she fixated on his strong hand, catching sight of his tattoo as he drank his wine. There had to be a story there with the ink.
“I could’ve kept my secrets. Ditched you before Friday like I’d contemplated doing on our drive here.”
“Oh really?” A brow lifted as his glass returned to the table.
“Can you blame me? I’m working a top secret case to out Russian spies by tracking down a ledger that requires a key to decode it.
To paraphrase Winters, it sounds like something from The Da Vinci Code.
Most don’t believe the book exists. Who would want to believe me? Looks like my unit certainly doesn’t.”
“And they haven’t heard your side of things, but they will in time,” he said, conviction ringing through his tone.
“I guess this means we should probably talk about work now,” she said on a sigh, preferring relaxed-Ana, who jumped into ponds fully clothed with an almost naked cowboy, to uptight-Ana, who panic-cleaned spoiled sushi rolls.
“Probably, but can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer, but—”
“Why’d I marry Kyle?”
“Damn, you really are a mind reader.” A.J. shifted farther back in his seat and toyed with the stem of his wineglass between his fingers. His green eyes took a slow journey over her as if she was still in the robe and hadn’t changed into black cotton shorts and a red tank top.
“I married Kyle,” she began when remembering his question, not wondering whether he was able to see the outline of her nipples since she was braless, “because I thought I had to fit some perfect mold. Check off certain boxes. College, career, husband, and baby. I never got to the fourth one.” She took a moment to gulp back a large swallow of wine.
“And he’s by the book like me. Likes lists and being organized.
Well, I was by the book. I don’t feel that way right now. ”
He was quiet for a moment, possibly mulling over her words. “Did you love him?”
Did I? “I think I did in the only way I knew how to at the time. Friendship. Companionship. A caring relationship.”
“That’s a lot of ships.”
She cracked a smile. Of course, he’d be able to provoke such a reaction during this kind of conversation.
“But every time I tried to remove the wall I’d placed between us, to show him the real me, I’d shut down.
I couldn’t do it. I didn’t think he’d be able to look at me the same way again after he learned the truth.
He’d see me as the daughter of traitors forever.
Like I was worried you’d look at me.” She paused for a breath.
“But you were worth the risk,” she softly admitted.
A.J. sat taller, hands going flat on the purposefully distressed tabletop. His gaze connected with hers, and the look of lust in his eyes had her skin blushing instantly. “Well, I can tell you that from the moment I met you, I knew you were a woman I wanted to get to know.”
“And here you are getting to know me.” Her hand began to tremble ever so slightly as her past cut through their moment. She didn’t want to remember her parents in the way they died, or the reasons why they died. Not everything had been rainbows and sunshine, or gloom and doom.
“What are you thinking about?”
“My parents.” She really was an open book with this man, and he seemed fairly eager to keep reading.
“You’re allowed to still love them, you know.” He was on his feet and moving around the table before she had a chance to process his quick movements.
Oh. There were tears. That’s why he was before her, one knee on the floor as if proposing, the other leg bent back, his hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been what feels like a forty-hour day. We can talk about work tomorrow. You should sleep.” He scooped her into his arms before she had a chance to protest.
Ana wasn’t used to surrendering to her tears, and yet with A.J., she allowed them to freely fall. And they kept coming as her arms circled his neck.
“Thank you,” she whispered when he carried her up the stairs, his powerful body holding her like she weighed nothing. She brought her face closer to his chest, nuzzling against him once he’d sat on her bed, holding her on his lap. “I, um.”
“Shhh,” he said when she lifted her head. “You don’t need to say anything. Relax.”
She didn’t normally relax. No, she panic-cleaned. And now? Could panic-orgasm be a thing? She really was thinking like A.J. now.
“I’ll wait to go until you’re asleep.”
But this was a place she never wanted to leave.
In his arms.
And maybe being protected wasn’t such a bad thing if it was A.J. doing the protecting?