Chapter 5 #2
A few snorts broke the tension, brief and low. The joke was dry enough to pass as nothing, but Ellory didn’t move. She sat upright, spine straight, hands folded, eyes forward.
The footage rolled on, and at the exact point where Ash took the shot, she looked away. Her gaze traveled from Opal to Sophie. They were the people she could count on to understand when the others wouldn’t.
She really was just an accountant—but she was responsible for taking down a lot of high-profile people.
She was the one who testified while powerful men glared at her across polished tables.
She was the one who signed her name to reports that dismantled reputations and put handcuffs on wrists that thought themselves untouchable.
Al Capone hadn’t gone down because of bullets. He’d fallen because of taxes.
Money ended empires.
And she’d ended more than a few.
She listened to the rest of the meeting. Ash gave his report, and then Con dismissed them.
As the guys scraped their chairs back, and their boots thundered out of the room, Ellory hung back until everyone left.
Even Ash.
Con lingered at the door for a moment. “Do you have something more to add, Ellory?” His tone was gentler than she’d heard it before, something more in line with the way she imagined him speaking to Sophie.
“Just gathering my thoughts.”
He nodded. “Well, if you need to add anything more, my door’s always open.”
“I appreciate it, Con.” She offered him a smile that felt stiff on her face. But he dipped his head and ducked out of the room.
She stared at the surface of the table, letting everything that happened wash through her.
The op she never wanted to go on. Ash picking locks. The encrypted files and the door opening.
The dead man’s eyes, wide and staring, fixed on the ceiling.
Ash’s hard body holding her up. And his lips…
Warm and rough in ways that didn’t fit the moment at all, yet somehow felt most important.
Her own chair scraped quietly on the floor as she stood and walked out of the room. She only took two steps before Ash caught her by the arm.
She barely had time to issue a gasp as he swung her against him and crushed her to his chest.
“I can’t stop thinking about this,” he ground out as his mouth crashed over hers.
The kiss wasn’t tentative.
It wasn’t soft.
It was possession and relief and desire sharp enough to sting.
His hands were on her, one at her waist, the other at the back of her neck, teasing the sensitive skin of her nape. The scent of him—clean soap with a darker note—filled her senses. His body was as warm and unyielding as his kiss.
She sighed, and he took advantage of her parted lips, sweeping the tip of his tongue inside. The liquid heat of his tongue moving over hers spread through her whole body before sinking low in her belly.
Her hands found his shirt without permission from her brain, and twisted. He offered a rough sound into her mouth, and she let out a coo in response.
Backing her against the wall, he cupped her jaw and deepened the kiss. Her insides turned to molten lava, and she kissed him back with far more abandon than her brain told her was prudent.
When he pulled back, her lips felt swollen.
She should have stepped away.
Instead, she leaned up and kissed him again.
Longer.
Deeper.
Her fingers curled into the fabric at his sides as if he might vanish if she let go.
When they broke apart, she forced air into her lungs. “You crossed a line.”
His eyes were dark, unreadable. “You crossed it too.”
She had.
And she didn’t understand why.
She prided herself on control. On professional distance. On never letting anyone blur the edges of her focus.
But she hadn’t stopped him.
She stepped back first, smoothing her hair with fingers that trembled only slightly. “We should join the others.”
She took a hesitant step, thinking it wasn’t a good idea to show up with Ash. But he fell into step with her, and she had no choice but to enter the kitchen with him. The smell of baked cheese enveloped her senses, but it didn’t drive out the scent of Ash lingering in her head.
A pizza topped with green peppers, onions and bacon sat in the middle of the big island. As she looked on, two of the guys reached in and snagged slices for themselves.
As if nothing at all happened between them, Ash sauntered to the fridge and grabbed a couple bottled waters.
Opal suddenly appeared at her side. “Just in time. Sinner and I could use a hand making the pizzas. Come on.”
She was grateful for the distraction from the man who’d just kissed her senseless. But as soon as she stepped onto the patio with Opal, Ash followed.
He passed her a bottle of water, and she took it without meeting his stare. “Thanks.”
He watched her while Opal showed her how to add the right amount of sauce and cheese and Sinner informed her that the ratio of sauce to crust was crucial.
Ash hovered nearby at all times, standing too close when she used the peel to pull a fresh pizza from the oven.
She asked Opal if the team lived solely off pizza. Opal just laughed and told her this was how they celebrated after a mission.
Sinner and Opal carried the pizzas inside, with Ellory and Ash pitching in. As soon as the pies hit the granite countertop, the team descended on them like a pack of wolves.
May ducked under one guy’s arm, shooting Ellory a grin. “Better grab some while you can.” She plucked up a slice of pepperoni and retreated.
When Ellory reached for a slice, her elbow brushed against someone. She knew without looking that Ash was hovering over her again, as if he’d appointed himself her personal bodyguard.
She shifted away, smiling at something May said while trying to pretend that her pulse wasn’t racing.
Conversation between the team at mealtime was easy and didn’t touch on the debriefing or the footage. Nobody questioned her for more information about how the shooter had known her either, and she began to feel some of the tension flow out of her.
At least until Ash’s elbow bumped against hers. Her body reacted before her brain could issue a warning. Heat skittering down her spine.
She already learned that he didn’t smell like body odor.
And she absolutely would not be investigating whether or not he had a hairy ass.
Someone brought up casino night, and he stood so close to her that she felt him go still.
“Everyone to the basement. Casino’s open!” Kennedy called, and a bunch of people exited the kitchen, talking and laughing as they thumped downstairs until their voices faded.
Con remained, offering Ellory a light smile as he filled a paper plate with pizza. “You joining us?”
“Um. Sure. Sounds fun.”
Ash crumpled his bottle and stood. “I’m going back to my room.”
Con eyed him. “You’re joining us in the casino.”
Ash let out a low laugh. “Is that an order?”
“It’s a team-building exercise.”
Ash didn’t speak. After a long beat, he gave Con a slight nod. When the room completely cleared, and everyone had headed to the casino, she found herself alone with Ash.
She met his dark stare. “Why don’t you want to go to the casino with the others?”
He lifted one thick shoulder and let it drop. “Not really my thing.”
Picking up on the strain running through him, she remembered how he’d guided her safely down from her panic attack. He didn’t look like he was about to fall apart over a team-building exercise, but he looked far from happy to join his team.
“Hey.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin and touched his arm. His stare snapped to hers. “Three things, right? Three things you can see.”
His eyes darkened, hooded now, heat sliding through them in a way that made her pulse stumble. “Fridge. Stove.” His gaze dragged slowly down her body and back up. “You.”
Her stomach clenched so tight she nearly lost her breath. When she spoke again, her voice came out softer than she intended. “Three things you can touch.”
“The counter.” His hand flattened against it, knuckles white. “The water bottle.”
She stepped into his space before she could talk herself out of it, the gap between them closing. “Me,” she rasped, already tipping her face up. “Touch me.”
He didn’t hesitate.
He clamped his hands on her waist, firm and possessive, pulling her flush against him as his mouth crashed down on hers. Heat built into an instant inferno as their restraint snapped at the same time.
His teeth grazed her lower lip before his tongue swept in, claiming, stealing her breath, leaving no room for doubt that this attraction between them was even more dangerous than she wanted to believe.
A small sound slipped from her throat as she fisted his shirt, the world narrowing to the heat and strength of him.
The solid body that had shielded her. The steady hands that had guided her down when panic stole her breath.
And the way Angelo Ash’s hard mouth on hers made her knees threaten to give out entirely.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, breath rough as though his control hung by a thread.
“Still good?” he murmured.
Her fingers held tighter in his shirt.
“Better,” she whispered.
And then she kissed him again—slow this time, deliberate—like she had every intention of undoing him right there in front of the fridge and the stove and everything he thought he had under control.
This wasn’t in her job description.
Neither was Angelo Ash.