Chapter 14 #2
Her hands landed on the door, and she tapped her forehead against it a couple of times, trying to regroup. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her dresser and saw that the top drawer was ajar.
A hard sigh fell from her lips as she went over to it.
Hesitation passed over her; instead of closing it, she pulled it open.
Owen’s hands had been in that drawer not too long ago, and she could still smell his cologne in her room.
She was becoming as heightened to smell as he was.
Somehow, that thought lightened her mood.
Her fingertips skimmed the lace inside, and she shifted the garments back to reveal the silver and pink object her friend had gotten her for a gag gift on her last birthday.
Two sharp raps at the door had her shoulders flinching. “It’s me.”
“Come in.” She could get used to hearing Owen say it’s me, like he was hers and she was his—like it was natural for him to be there, to be part of her life.
“You, uh, need to pack a few more things before we get out of here?” His eyes fell upon the dresser before journeying back to her face.
“Although, I don’t think I could handle watching you pack that piece of hardware you’ve got in there.
The idea of you in bed doing that, with me sleeping on the couch . . .”
“Funny.” The word teased over her tongue and between her teeth as she closed the drawer and faced him.
He leaned into the frame of the doorway. “But in all seriousness, if you need to let loose again, I wouldn’t blame you. I could take a shower or something while you’re, eh-hem, taking the edge off.” He lifted a brow. “It’d be a very cold shower, but I’d do that for you.”
Desire surged hot and hard in her chest and spread through her limbs, a sharp contrast to her feelings just minutes ago, when her intern had been pinned to the floor. “Oh you would, would you?”
“A sacrifice I’d be willing to make. I couldn’t stand between a woman and her needs.”
She stopped just shy of him and folded her arms. His gaze dropped to her cleavage. “And what about your needs?”
He slowly dragged his focus back to her eyes. “My needs don’t matter right now. All that matters is keeping you safe.”
Her lips twisted at the edges as she tried to conceal the threat of a smile. “Well, sex should be the last thing on my mind right now, don’t you think? Given what’s going on.”
He shifted his stance and pulled the door closed, which had her hands bunching into fists at her sides.
The brooding swirl of lust in his eyes pierced right through her, and she backed up against her tall dresser, a dresser that had been her great-grandmother’s—passed down over the years. Generations of lace . . .
He pressed both palms to the mahogany, and she merely gaped at the biceps in her line of sight. “Owen, what are you doing?”
“We shouldn’t be thinking about sex; you’re right. With what’s going on, it should be the last thing on our minds.” He found her eyes. “I shouldn’t be thinking about bunching up that tight red skirt you’re wearing and feeling just how wet you are . . . because you are, aren’t you?”
A twitch between her thighs had her closing her eyes and taking a breath. “Since my intern is out there, along with your two SEAL buddies, I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how it’d feel to have your tongue inside my mouth, then.”
His hand dropped to her hip, and he pulled her against him. She could feel his hard length pressing into her. “I shouldn’t still want to bury myself inside of you, even if everyone outside of this room were to disappear.”
“But you do,” she whispered and opened her eyes.
His jaw clenched as he studied her. “But I do.”
“Am I a bad person to want to have sex with you? Even if sex is the best possible way to take my mind off the sick shit in this world—it’s not natural to want you like I do, right?”
His lips rolled inward, and his brows pulled together. “I—”
“You two ready to rock and roll? Phillip’s gone.”
She blinked at the sound of Asher’s voice on the other side of the door.
Owen quickly released his hold and staggered back. “Be right out.”
“Hurry up,” Asher responded. Sam could hear the heavy footsteps of his boots as he left.
Owen adjusted his jeans, and she bit her lip as she watched him try to hide his desire. “I might need a second.” He turned away.
She stepped behind him and trailed her hand up his hard back, her fingers slipping over his now closely cropped hair.
“You think touching me will get me to calm my dick down?”
“It must be the adrenaline of everything going on that’s making me lose my mind,” she said apologetically.
He faced her, his jeans still tented from his massive erection. “Adrenaline can definitely increase your sexual appetite.” He eyed her while taking a hard swallow.
“It happens to you a lot?” She didn’t want to think about him with other women. She didn’t have time to decipher the brief flicker of jealousy that had crossed through her, either.
“Sex on an op?” He shook his head. “You’d be a first.” His eyes thinned when he stepped closer to her. He caressed her cheek, and she turned into his palm, relishing in the way his touch made her feel.
Adrenaline, sure. “We should go . . .”
“They can wait.” His thumb ran over her lips, and her tongue peeked out of her mouth to catch his skin. His nostrils flared slightly. “I just need one more second alone with you, one more second to ignore the ‘sick shit of the world.’”
When his fingers found her short locks, he gave a slight tug on her hair, tipping her chin up. His other hand skated down her throat before dropping underneath her blouse and grazing her nipple.
“Owen,” she whispered, arching her pelvis with the need to feel him. “I don’t think this will be an arousal killer, either. Just an FYI.”
He lifted his mouth to her ear, and his breath there had her breasts puckering even more.
“You can’t fight nature,” he said before claiming her mouth as if her very breath belonged to him.
His tongue touched her lips like a command, seeking entrance, and she gave it to him.
Seconds? A minute, maybe? At some point, he staggered back and dragged both palms down his face.
Her trembling fingers fixed her blouse and bra strap, so she wouldn’t expose a nipple to Liam or Asher.
He lightly scowled. “I shouldn’t want to fuck you six ways from Sunday right now.”
“Only six?”
Her words had him catching her eyes. “I can’t get enough of you, even though I don’t want to want you.”
“We have a million different reasons to stay away from each other.”
His brows pinched tight. “And yet, why aren’t we?”
“I guess we don’t have time to figure that out right now.”
“In my line of work, there’s never a right time.” And with that, he started for the door.
To hell with his erection, apparently.
He held the door open and waited for her to walk out. She forced the heavy breath to remain in her lungs as she moved past him.
She caught sight of Liam and Asher down the hall. They both abruptly whirled away from her, as if they’d caught Sam and Owen doing naked limbo.
“Let’s go,” Owen said as they caught up to the men.
She tried to ignore the bulge still present beneath his jeans.
“Let’s take the stairs,” Asher said outside her apartment door.
Liam unlocked the Suburban once they were in the parking garage, and she scooted onto the back seat.
Sam strapped on her belt, and her gaze skated to Owen now next to her. His hard-on was almost gone, but his hand rested atop his jeans, concealing whatever was left of it.
If Owen was a distraction for her, did that mean she was throwing him off-balance, too? Was she impacting his focus? Was she dangerous to him?
She’d lost Brad. She couldn’t lose him, too.
She inwardly sighed. She didn’t have Owen in the first place, though. I can’t have him.
“This is a normal day for you guys, isn’t it?” she asked.
Liam pulled out of the parking garage. “We’re usually a lot more fun.”
“I get the distinct feeling your version of fun might vary slightly from mine.” She wondered if they were “more fun” on the ops that weren’t so personal.
“With what we do, if we don’t lighten the mood every once in a while, shit could get ugly pretty fast.” Asher’s admission had her looking at him in surprise.
Owen looked out his side window, and it was as if any humor or buzz of desire she’d felt went right out the glass with his gaze.
All that was on her mind now was Owen and his thirst for vengeance.
He wouldn’t really kill a man in cold blood, though, would he?
She’d wanted justice for years, but she never thought she’d have the chance to do it herself. No, she’d sat safely in the comfort of her home while men had suited up in combat gear to handle the evil of the world. Men like the three guys in the car with her.
If it was okay to take out a terrorist with a drone in the blink of an eye, would it be okay to take out Teteruk, the man who’d murdered two Navy SEALs and a scientist?
How did anyone really know which lines were okay to cross?
“It’d be a lot easier if we could all meet up at TOC,” Asher said as they pulled out onto the road, scattering her thoughts.
“TOC?” She arched a brow.
“Old habit.” Asher waved a dismissive hand.
“No exceptions for me, though, huh?”
“Sorry, darlin’, but no,” Liam answered.
“Are we thinking it was the deliveryman who threatened Phillip?” Asher pivoted to face the back again.
“Maybe.” Owen’s face was drawn tight when he looked Asher’s way. “But we still need to find whoever the hell hired him.”
“I’m thinking the friend, Emily—”
“No way,” Sam cut Asher off.
“I didn’t mean her, exactly, but I’m betting someone close to her copied your key.”
“The boyfriend would be too easy,” Liam said from behind the wheel as if disappointed by the idea. “But my money is on him.”
“I doubt Blane could pull all of this off,” she said.
“He’s probably the small fish, sweetheart,” Asher said before facing forward. “But we need him to catch the whale.”
“Not a shark?” Liam glanced at Asher.