“The investigation hasn’t turned up that information yet.”
Her chin dipped in a lost, little nod. She was processing what he was saying, but the brutal truth wasn’t going down easily.
“And the fact that you continued to be with me, intimately, all this time, that had nothing to do with your orders from this Agency of yours?”
He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I caught all kinds of shit when they found out,” he confessed. “And you know what? It was worth it. You were worth it.”
Their gazes locked, and he hoped like hell she could read the truth in his eyes, because as unaccustomed as he was to spilling information to an unauthorized source, he wasn’t sure he could say out loud what he felt so strongly in his body-and possibly, even his heart.
She slammed to her feet, her hands slapping decisively against her thighs. “All right, then!” she announced before she rounded the coffee table, looked him straight in the eye and reached out with her hand.
He didn’t touch her, but flicking his gaze between her hand and her eyes did the job of telling her he didn’t know what she intended for him to do with that hand if he took it. Give her a platonic shake, thank her for cooperating with the United States government and then send her on her merry way?
Her hand dropped a little. “Thank you for telling me the whole truth.”
He arched a brow. “You didn’t get the whole truth.”
She stared at him quizzically. “What part did you leave out?”
At this point, he knew what to do with her hand. He grabbed it and used her arm to reel her in as close as two people possibly could be with their clothes still on-a detail he hoped to rectify momentarily. With his chest flush against hers and her suddenly accelerated heartbeat egging him on, he pressed his lips just beside hers and whispered, “The part where I tell you I can’t live without you.”
CHAPTER NINE
HE KISSED HER WITH SUCH a rough, desperate intensity that all questions, protests and logical reasons why she should deny herself another taste of him disappeared. He’d confessed all to her, including the fact that although he’d initiated his pursuit of her for his case, he’d actually jeopardized his investigation by staying with her. He’d admitted how he’d been drawn to her with the same force that had kept her enthralled, a man she’d known so little about-and most of what she had known had been a lie.
But clearly, she no longer cared. She wanted him. Here. Now. Because possibly, this was all they’d ever have.
Clothes melted away with the fire burning between them. The dimming sunlight against the sheer curtained window marked the dwindling time that they had to say goodbye, spurring him to lift her fully and completely against him, pressing her skin as tightly against his as he possibly could. She needed his heat to brand her, mark her, imprint her with the indelible passion that belonged to them alone. After tonight, she’d likely never see him again. There would be no more sneaking, no more bucking the rules. His job injected inescapable danger into his life, risk that had spilled into hers that morning on the sidewalk. She knew the thought of her paying the price for his choices sickened him. He was that kind of man.
So he’d say goodbye. But he’d make it count.
Roman lured her to the bedroom, her hand cupped softly in his, and watched her eyes turn glossy with the kind of anticipation and fear and need that he’d never seen in her before. Then again, he’d never much stopped to look, had he? They’d been too enraptured, too enslaved to lust and sexual pleasure to truly know each other.
Of course, there was the matter that if she’d known who he was then, she would have kicked him to the curb. Or at least, out her door.
But now she knew. And she’d stayed.
Roman couldn’t waste another moment. His first taste, taken with his lips across her neck, jacked his adrenaline to dangerous levels. His heart pounded, his blood surged, his muscles tightened, all from a simple kiss. She kissed him back, hard, lacing her tongue with his, spearing her hands into his hair and tugging gently, oh-so-subtly urging him to their usual frenetic and ravenous pace.
He smiled as he trailed his kisses higher-behind her ear, along her chin, to the tip of her nose, his hands solid on the sides of her cheeks.
With a frustrated sigh, she pushed him away, her eyes blazing.
“You act as if we have forever,” she complained.
“No,” he corrected her, “but we do have all night.”
She glanced toward the door, as if someone might rush in at any moment and interrupt. “You don’t know that for sure,” she said, her voice cracking with uncertainty.
There wasn’t a lot Roman seemed to know anymore, but he did know they would not be interrupted. Domino had not only agreed to lend him her suite, but she’d promised to keep an eye out until morning when she had to leave on another assignment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the covert operative, but oddly, his ex-lover hadn’t objected to his proposal that they buck the system and raise a finger at the rules so he could have one more night with Rachel. He’d even caught a glimmer of rebellion in her blue eyes-the source unknown. But he’d had no trouble using her newfound defiance to his advantage. She owed him.
“Trust me, Rachel.”
She licked her lips. Her tiny movement caused a painful tightening in his groin. His sex, thick and straining for her touch, ached as blood rushed downward. Her fingers danced across the bare skin of his hips, taunting him, zapping his brain so that he wondered, momentarily, why he wasn’t inside her yet.
“You’ve never asked me to trust you before, Roman.”
He skimmed his hands across her shoulders and down her back, yearning to clutch her buttocks and press her tight to him, but knowing he had to wait, draw this out, make this last.
“How could I?”
“Because you weren’t who you were pretending to be.”
He succumbed to temptation and laid his hands possessively over her backside. “I was when we made love.”
Her eyes turned pleading. “Prove it.”
He dropped to his knees. She gasped and her balance wavered at his unexpected attack, but he held her steady as he delved between her feminine lips with his tongue, easily finding the tiny tip of her sex. A sweet cream slipped onto his lips, amplifying his hunger, electrifying his need. He tugged her forward and she boldly wrapped one leg over his shoulder, increasing his access, surrendering completely to him in ways he knew she never had before.
A quivering announced how close to the precipice she was, so he eased back, kissing her thighs, her knee, before sweeping her into his arms and onto the bed. With only the tiniest grasp left of his self-control, he grabbed her hands and held them tight above her head while he kissed her until her passion ebbed to a manageable rhythm.
Her eyes flashed open. She’d regained a semblance of control and, in a quick move, flipped him over onto his back. He couldn’t help but laugh in surprise.
“Where did you learn that?”
She grinned down at him, her eyes alight with naughty intentions. He could feel her warm heat hovering just above him and the sensation nearly stole his breath.
“From you,” she admitted. “Don’t you remember?”
She arched a brow, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall ever employing such a move on her. Of course, in the acrobatics of their usual lusty sex, instincts often took over. What he could remember of their lovemaking from before wasn’t details, just general impressions. Immediate, hot, animalistic impressions.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Her grin was pure sin. “Not like I’m going to hurt you. Torture you is more like it. I mean, I suppose I should have tortured you weeks ago in order to make you talk, but now that you’ve spilled all-”
He relaxed completely against the cool cotton sheets, forcing his muscles to surrender to her wicked intentions. “Feel free to have your way with me. I’ll try not to complain.”
The smile that bloomed on Rachel’s face came from deep within in, from a center that had never felt so balanced until tonight. Despite the lies, mistruths and danger, she and Roman still possessed an easy banter and intimate trust she’d never shared with any other man. Nor could she deny the intimate need she had to join with him, be one with him, as many times tonight as they could physically manage. She reached between his legs and, after stroking him with her palm and fingers, guided him inside her-partway. Enough to drive them both mad with wanting, but not far enough to topple them over the edge.
Balanced on her knees, she leaned forward and suckled his taut male nipples. She speared her tongue through the light smattering of hair on his chest, reveling in the flavors of his skin, in the sensations of his heartbeat against his chest. He upped the ante when he cupped her breasts, his thumbs dancing over her nipples until she could barely think or breathe.
She sat up, bringing them together completely. The sensation of his sex sliding deeply into her filled her with a warmth that spread like wildfire, growing hotter and hotter with each second. Through heavy-lidded eyes, she watched sheer wonder play over his features as he plucked and pinched her breasts with the exact amount of pressure that drove her wild, his hips shifting beneath her with subtle, powerful results. She grabbed his hands, desperate to stop his pleasurable assault, but lacing her fingers with his ignited a new kind of heat. The held on to each other with desperate tightness as passion and need commandeered their bodies, pushing them in a menagerie of sensation from which neither could escape.
And why, Rachel wondered just before she collapsed onto his chest, would she want to?
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