Maya Banks - Shades of Gray

“I don’t want anyone to know we were together.”

His frown deepened.

“Look Cole,” she said before he could protest further. “We have to work together. I don’t want there to be any speculation on our . . .” She choked and almost said relationship. “Our association. This isn’t some office job where we flirt and play cutesy. People’s lives depend on our concentration and I don’t want to become the butt of jokes by Dolphin or Renshaw or Baker and I don’t even want to know what Steele would do if he found out we hooked up. He’d probably toss one or both of us off the team.”

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?”

The smug look on his face made her want to hit him. He was grinning and he’d stretched out his considerable length and rolled to his side, propped up on his palm as he stared unabashedly at her. She could swear he was plotting to yank the sheets from her, so she tightened her grip just in case.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. When she reopened them, Cole was still staring at her like he wanted to have her for breakfast. A flutter began deep in her belly and worked outward until her skin was warm and flushed. Damn but the man was good. Everything about him was good. His mouth, his tongue, his hands and his cock. Most definitely his cock.

“Look, can we just agree that last night was a mistake? A huge mistake. One we need to promise never happens again. We can’t afford to fuck up our jobs or the team. It’s best we go our separate ways and pretend this never happened.”

Suddenly he loomed over her, big, all badass. She hated how small she felt beneath him, and she loved it all at the same time.

With a low-sounding growl, he pressed her down to the bed and covered her mouth with his, kissing her until she was panting for breath.

Even as he was pressing her downward, his hand tugged at the sheet until it slid to her waist. One hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb rolling over the rigid peak of her nipple.

God, she loved his hands on her.

His tongue slid past her lips and filled her mouth, tasting her, rubbing over her tongue and exploring every inch. He had a mouth made for sin, and she wasn’t a good girl by far. She’d done her share of sinning. If last night didn’t send her to hell, she didn’t know what would.

When he pulled away, her lips were swollen and her entire body was tingling and alive with lust and desire.

His hand stayed intimately cupped around her breast as if he had no desire to break the contact between them. His eyes were hard and piercing, anger and lust all rolled into those blue orbs.

“If you think I’m going to pretend this never happened, you’re out of your goddamn mind. Now stop being silly and let’s get our asses to the airport. If it bothers you that much, you can get a different ride from Nashville. But there’s no reason we can’t take the same plane back.”

Her heart stutter-stepped and she swallowed hard.

Finally his hand slipped away from her breast, leaving her instantly cold and still aching for his touch.

“I have to get my rental back to the airport, so you can ride with me,” he said as he rolled out of bed.

Her lips tightened at how readily he’d taken over and started dictating the action. Then she sighed. He was right. She was being stupid and shrill. But the very last thing she wanted was for her team to know she and Cole had just spent a hot night together under the sheets. Or rather on top of the sheets. Twisted in the sheets . . .

Her face bloomed with heat. She had to stop. She was the one harping about concentration and focus and hers was shot straight to hell because all she could remember was how good Cole felt sliding in and out of her body.

THE fates were kind and at least she didn’t find herself seated next to Cole when the plane lifted off four hours later. The two had packed, or rather Cole had watched as P.J. threw a few changes of clothes into an overnight bag. Most of her gear was stowed with KGI. She had plenty of backup at her apartment, but when she had to take a commercial flight, she was SOL for bringing anything but the bare essentials.

There had been plenty of times the Kelly jet had flown in for her, making a quick stop to get her and her gear before heading out for the latest mission. Steele had mentioned the possibility of her moving closer to the KGI base in Tennessee, but so far she’d hesitated, not willing to make the final break from her past.

Maybe it was time to move forward. It would make things a lot easier if she were in closer proximity to the rest of the team. Hell, she lived, ate and breathed with them seventy-five percent of her time anyway. The other twenty-five percent she spent in her tiny apartment on the outskirts of Denver, and she spent nights in a hole-in-the-wall bar and strip joint. Yeah, that was the kind of life she’d always imagined having.

Steele lived just outside of Nashville, a little less than two hours’ drive away from the Kelly stronghold on Kentucky Lake. He was a loner, and maybe that was why she liked and respected him so much. He didn’t want to be intruded on, so he rarely intruded on his team members.

Nashville was far enough away that she wouldn’t be covered up by the team all the time, but close enough that for missions they had to act fast on, she wasn’t stuck traveling from Denver or having the team come to her en route to the eventual location.

But now she had a complication she hadn’t envisioned.

Cole.

Cole lived between Nashville and the KGI compound. Moving to Nashville would mean being a lot closer to him, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that now. He was a distraction she didn’t need.

The person sitting next to her in the middle seat got up and headed for the lavatory, and P.J. leaned into the window, hoping to get an hour nap before they landed in Nashville. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cole also head in the direction of the bathroom from several rows behind her.

When the woman who’d been sitting next to P.J. came out, Cole stopped her and the two spoke a moment. Cole turned on that infectious charm with the suave smile, and in disgust, P.J. watched as the woman became putty in his hands.

She frowned even harder when the woman returned but didn’t stop at her seat and instead continued on. Then Cole started back down the aisle without going into the bathroom and she groaned when he stepped over the person in the aisle seat and plunked down beside P.J.

“Oh come on, Cole,” P.J. muttered. “Was that really necessary?”

He grinned. “I just told her that we’re traveling together and couldn’t get seat assignments and then offered her my aisle seat a few rows back. She was happy to accommodate us.”

“And again, why?”

“Loosen up, Rutherford. You’re way too uptight. You act like last night was the end of the world.”

“Shut up!” she hissed out between her teeth. “I’m not having this conversation with you on a crowded plane.”

He turned and leaned in so he was close, and he murmured in a low voice, “It happened, P.J. Nothing you say or do changes that fact, so get over it.”

“It doesn’t mean you have to act like we’re a freaking couple now.”

“Why are you so prickly?” he asked.

There was no censure or condemnation, just honest curiosity.

“You’ve been standoffish since day one. No one can get close to you. No one can ask you questions. Hell, you know all there is to know about me, Dolphin, Renshaw and Baker. Not so much Steele, but then who does? But you act like it’s a cardinal sin for us to know a damn thing about you. What happened with S.W.A.T. sucks, but do you honestly think the team would judge you if they knew? Or is it that you don’t trust us because your last team let you down?”

She sighed and banged her head against the window. They still had two more hours and now Cole was right up in her space. No escaping. Unless she wanted to hang out in the cramped lavatory for the rest of the flight.

He shifted closer to her until his shoulder rested against hers and she could smell him. Her soap on him, since he’d used her shower. But she used plain soap, so that wasn’t what she was smelling. It was him. Clean, delicious male.

It was too easy to remember how much time she’d spent up close and personal to all that wonderful male flesh. She’d licked him and he’d licked her in return. Oh yes, he had.

She shivered.

“You cold?” he asked. “I can adjust your vent.”

She shook her head and wondered how she was going to survive the next two hours.

WHEN P.J. and Cole left the security gate in Nashville, P.J. groaned when she saw Dolphin standing a short distance away holding a sign that said P.J. in big letters. Smart-ass. She’d usually have fun with it and give him some shit, but not today.

He grinned when he saw both her and Cole and then started in their direction. He was the epitome of cocky good ole boy. He was originally from Texas and he had the worn cowboy look down without actually looking like he was right off the ranch.

More often than not he wore jeans with at least half a dozen holes, flip-flops that made him look like he was heading to the beach and a T-shirt, usually with a snarky saying. Today’s offering was “Heavily armed, easily pissed.”

Damn but she wanted that T-shirt.

He, like Cole, was a former navy SEAL, and he’d been called Dolphin since BUD/S training, because he swam like one. The man was more at-home in the water than on land. P.J. half expected she’d find gills in his rib cage somewhere.