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She wrinkled her nose. “You know I can’t share IAB information with you, Captain.
Not while the investigation is still underway.”
Hoff’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “When you make your arrest I want to be the first to know. I can’t believe one of my agents is selling information to the Federation.
You’ve been undercover for two years now and you haven’t turned up anything incriminating. Maybe IAB is wrong about the leak coming from this field office.”
Sable kept her face impassive. She knew IAB wasn’t wrong. Within the last two days, the informant from this office had sold false information that she’d planted in the database. While she hated to have missed the opportunity to apprehend the traitor, she was relieved to exonerate Derek without a doubt. He’d been in bed with her for the last two days. And the shower. And the dining table. And the…
Damn, best not to think about that.
In any case, he hadn’t gone anywhere near the controls of his ship to access the main computers.
“IAB is rarely wrong,” she said with confidence. “There’s a leak. And I’ll find it.”
She stood.
As she made her way toward the door, the captain called after her. “You’re dismissed, Agent Taylor.”
She rolled her eyes.
Stepping out into the hallway, she crashed into a rock wall. At least it felt like one.
“Watch it,” she ground out, as the wall steadied her. She looked into fiery silver eyes and bit back a groan. “Dere—er, Agent Atkinson.”
23
Sylvia Day
Derek wore his dark blue STF uniform and she could barely catch her breath at the sight of him. She’d always been a sucker for a man in uniform and Derek made it look especially yummy.
He slid his hands down her arms, burning her skin and causing heated ripples of awareness to pool in her core. “Hello, Sable.” His voice was rich and warm and filled with sensual promise. “In trouble with the captain again? What did you do this time?”
She scowled and shrugged off his touch, digging deep for the strength she needed to walk away. “I entered the docking bay a little too fast,” she lied. Circumventing him, she headed down the hall with rapid steps.
He fell into step beside her. “Who are you tracking now?”
“None of your damn business,” she snapped, trying not to look at his handsome face with its sexy smile and angry gaze. He was obviously still pissed about her leaving him at DS12 two days ago. In a way, she was glad. It showed that he cared, if only a little.
“Fine,” he said smoothly, but she heard the frustration in his tone. “Is my come still dripping down your thighs?”
She halted abruptly, her mouth agape. “What? ”
He shrugged and tried to look innocent, which was impossible. “That would be my business, wouldn’t it? I mean if my bodily fluids are in your—”
“Shut up.” Arms akimbo, Sable was certain she’d never been as furious in her life, which was exactly what Derek had intended with his outrageous question. He was not a man who took well to being ignored and he fought back with no holds barred.
He mimicked her posture and raised a raven brow. Despite his fury, he looked like heaven, her heaven, but she couldn’t do a damn thing about that as long as she was undercover in his field office.
Sable loved his smile and his body, his silky hair and piercing fangs. She admired his strength and his control. He was cool and levelheaded when she was hot and brash.
24
Misled
He was pulled together and quick on his feet, when she was falling apart and frozen in place. He complemented her in every way that mattered.
Except she wanted him forever and he wanted her for right now.
She used to love her job, used to love knowing she kept the Task Force clean and free of dirty officers. Now she hated it. She’d hated it ever since she met Derek two years ago, because her job prevented her from having him for however long he’d give her his attention. She was enough of a glutton for punishment that she’d be willing to take what she could get when it came to Derek Atkinson.
Sable closed her eyes and released a long, slow breath. When she looked at him again, she was much calmer and not as angry. “Listen, Derek. The time we shared was great, I have no regrets—”
“That’s something, I suppose,” he muttered.
“But it can’t happen again. It really shouldn’t have happened to begin with.”
He snorted and his full lips tightened with displeasure. “How can you say that? I know you felt something.”
“Maybe I did. But we both know you’re not a long-term relationship kind of vamp—”
“How the hell would we both know that?” he growled.
“How old are you?” She arched a brow. “Several centuries old at least. And yet you’ve never been married, never been engaged.”
“Maybe I hadn’t found what I was looking for,” he argued.
“Maybe you never will.”
“Maybe I have.”
Sable shook her head, squelching the flutter in her stomach, and started down the hallway again. “Whatever, Derek.” She dismissed his statement with a wave of her hand. “It was fun, but now it’s over. Let’s not ruin the memory by arguing.”
“Are you finished?” he ground out.
25
Sylvia Day
“Definitely.” She kept walking as he slowed.
“Good.”
He gripped her elbow and dragged her into an interrogation room on the left.
Before she realized what was happening, he had her pinned to the wall, his mouth on hers, his tongue thrusting through her parted lips.
His long fingers moved through her hair, cupping the back of her head to position her as he wanted. The man kissed the way he fucked, deep and possessive, with a skill that stole her ability to think or move. His hips pressed hers to the wall, his erection hot and heavy against her lower belly. All around him she could smell his desire, heady and overwhelming, pure and gratifying.
Sable melted into him as his tongue stroked the inside of her mouth and his hands caressed her body with centuries’ worth of devastating knowledge. He tasted so unbelievably good, like sin on a stick, and she wanted more. Much more. Her job was so lonely, her work all-consuming. Only Derek understood the rigors. His body offered a solace she had found nowhere else. Touching him, holding him was a much-needed respite and an intimacy unlike anything she’d known before. It was wrong to want him and hopeless, but she couldn’t help it.
Tearing her mouth from his, she tugged his head lower, bared her fangs and sank home in the powerful expanse of his neck, claiming him, because he’d claimed her.
Instantly the rich, intoxicating taste of his blood, aged like a fine wine, poured down her throat. She felt him probing her mind, coaxing and encouraging until she didn’t care where they were. All she cared about was Derek, his big body and talented hands, the sinewy length of his muscles beneath her appreciative fingertips and the potent strength of his blood flowing into her.
Sable fed for long moments, writhing against him in an agony of lust. His blood should soothe her, calm her. Instead it heated her from the inside, making her skin tingle and her nipples peak tight. He caressed the length of her spine, holding her close, rocking his rock-hard cock against her clit. She ground her hips into that bulge, wanting 26
Misled
to come with near desperation. Feeding was, by nature, a sensual act, but with Derek it was so much more powerful than the physical need to orgasm. It was almost instinctual.
“You know,” he breathed, his deep voice vibrating against her lips. “It’s never been like this for me.”
Was he talking about the lust? she wondered.
That too, but also the gifting. I’ve never really appreciated it before.
Reluctantly, Sable withdrew her fangs, lapping at the tiny punctures with her tongue to seal them. When she leaned back to look at him, Derek’s silvery
irises were swirling like molten metal.
Gifting—the exchange of blood between vamps. It wasn’t for sustenance. It was a gift, an exchange of the precious fluid that was the center of their existence. To some vamps, it was no more intimate than a kiss. To others, it was a deeply personal act, more so than intercourse.
He lifted her and carried her, his sexual intent clear. The room was small, windowless and metallic. The only items inside it were the small table he set her down on, a single chair, and a very horny master vampire.
“Someone will come in here,” she whispered, a token protest.
“I’ll keep them away.”
“How?” As soon as she asked, she knew, somehow, he could do as he said.
