CHAPTER 15 #2
“Fine how?” she presses, tracking my hands for a moment before pulling her gaze back up to my face with visible effort. “Fine like it was useful, or fine like it was a complete waste of time?”
I shrug the shirt off and drape it over the chair by the dresser.
Tessa’s eyes drop to my chest, then almost reluctantly slide up to mine.
“He was cooperative on the surface,” I say, reaching down to pull off one boot. “Gave me the standard company line.”
“What’s the standard company line for a private military contractor?” she asks, and I can hear her trying to keep her reporter brain engaged. “Because I’d imagine it’s somewhat different from, say, a hedge fund.”
I set the boot down and pull off the other one. “He said they run clean operations. Talked about how they’d been vetted by the feds, fifteen-year track record.” I straighten and reach for my belt buckle. “The usual.”
Her eyes drop again and stay a half second longer this time.
“Right, but did he give you anything specific?” She shifts against the headboard, pulling her knees up, the picture of professional focus except for the way her teeth have found her lower lip. “Any names—”
The belt comes free and she loses the sentence completely.
I wait, staring at her expectantly.
She blinks and clears her throat. “Any indication of… of…”
“Operations?” I offer helpfully.
“Operations,” she confirms, nodding too quickly. “Right. That.”
I pop the button on my jeans, her eyes now pinned on my zipper.
“Cole.” Her voice has gone slightly unsteady.
“Tessa,” I reply.
Her attention comes back to my face. “I’m trying to have a professional conversation.”
“I know.” I push the jeans down and step out of them, leaving me in nothing but a pair of dark boxer briefs that are doing very little to hide the fact that I’ve been thinking about getting naked with her since I walked in the door. “You’re doing great.”
Her eyes make a slow, involuntary journey south and don’t come back up immediately.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she says.
“Doing what?”
“That.” She gestures vaguely at all of me.
“Getting ready for bed?” I ask. “In my own bedroom?”
Her mouth opens. Closes.
I reach for the waistband of my boxers.
“Okay,” she says, and her voice has dropped an entire register. “Okay, I’ve completely lost my train of thought.”
“That so?” I push the boxers down and step free of them.
She licks her lips. “I had at least four more questions,” she says faintly.
“I know,” I say, planting one knee on the mattress and leaning over her, one hand braced beside her hip as I reach up with the other to push her gently back against the pillow. “They’ll keep.”
“But SAPG—”
I kiss her.
She makes a sound against my mouth that’s half protest, her hands coming up to my chest, sliding to my shoulders to pull me toward her. I ease back just enough to take her in, her hair spread across my pillow, my T-shirt soft against her skin, those blue eyes dark and slightly dazed.
“No more talking,” I say quietly.
Her mouth curves. “You can’t just—”
I kiss her again, deeper this time, and whatever she was going to say dissolves into a whimper that I feel all the way down to my balls.
I settle my weight over her, her legs shifting to make room for me with the easy familiarity of a body that remembers mine without being asked. I drag my mouth from hers to the curve of her jaw, her throat, the warm skin below her ear. She tips her head back and exhales shakily.
“The questions,” she murmurs, a last valiant effort.
“Later,” I say against her neck.
“But—”
I lift my head and look at her. Whatever she sees in my expression stops the words entirely.
Because it isn’t just want, though that’s there too, pressing hard against every rational thought I have.
It’s far more powerful and raw. I confirmed tonight that people with immeasurable resources and no conscience consider Tessa to be a problem that needs solving.
She’s here, in my bed, warm and alive and slightly exasperated with me, which might be my favorite version of her.
And I need her close in a way that has nothing to do with tactics.
Tessa’s eyes roam my face, and she can read the emotion she sees there. I never hid it from her, and she became quite good at it. Her expression softens, the reporter sliding away, and she reaches up to cup my jaw. “Hey… I’ve got you.”
My chest cracks open at that. I turn my face into her hand, pressing my lips to her palm, and then I reach down to the hem of the T-shirt so I can remove it.
She’s warm against me, my hands mapping her curves with a thoroughness that makes her breath come faster. Her fingers drag through my hair as I work my way down her throat, her collarbone, the soft curve of her breast, her nipple, until she’s shifting restlessly beneath me.
“Cole,” she breathes, and the yearning in her tone demolishes my self-control.
I move back up Tessa’s body to kiss her, deep and slow, and she arches into me. When I finally settle between her thighs, she’s already trembling slightly, fingers gripping my shoulders, and the way she looks up at me in the lamplight—open, vulnerable, entirely present—undoes me completely.
I push forward slowly, watching her face, and the sound she makes as I fill her is the best thing I’ve heard all day.
Maybe all year.
“Still got questions?” I murmur.
She laughs breathlessly. “Shut up, Cole.”
I start to move and the laughter gives way to urgency, her hips rising desperately to meet mine. Her nails find my back and I don’t mind. Her legs wrap around me and pull me deeper and I groan against her temple, losing the careful control I walked in here with.
She comes with my name on her lips, her whole body tightening around me, and I follow her over the edge with a rough sound buried in her hair, holding her so close that I can feel her heartbeat against my chest.
For a long moment afterward neither of us moves. Her fingers trace slow, idle patterns on my back. My face is pressed into the curve of her neck and there’s no place in the world I’d rather be.
“Okay,” she says finally, her voice still slightly wrecked. “Now I have questions.”
A laugh moves through me, and I give her a squeeze before rolling onto my back and pulling her with me. Tessa’s head finds my shoulder, her palm flat on my chest. While holding her tight, I recount the entire conversation with Kowalski.
“So they know,” she says quietly.
“They know Jameson is involved,” I confirm. “Which means they know they can’t get to you easily.”
She absorbs that in silence for a moment. “And what exactly does that mean for me?”
“It means you stay here,” I say.
“I can’t be a prisoner, Cole.”
“It’s not forever, Tessa. And besides, I don’t know what else we can get that you don’t already have. I think you need to work toward busting it wide open for the world to see.”
Her hand presses flatter against my chest, feeling my heartbeat. “I just… it would have been great if Kowalski would have been a potential inside source. I know the police are going to need witnesses and I can’t provide that.”
“That’s their job. They have more resources than you when it comes to that.”
“Maybe,” she murmurs, lying her head against my chest. “I’m just so ready for this to be over with.”
Me too.
The danger part.
But I’m in no way ready to give her up.