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Had it ever been this hot before? John knew it hadn’t been. Never had he seen her like thi
s, watchful, waiting, uncertain in her femininity and her response to him.
Her legs parted, the silk tightening over her sex as he slid his fingers to the edge of the panties.
“This is mine.” His palm covered the mound and the feel of the wet heat beneath it nearly had him coming in his pants. “Mine, Bailey.”
She trembled beneath him as his fingers slid beneath the snug material and found the syrupy heat he’d dreamed of for five long years.
He couldn’t stop the touch. He couldn’t keep from dipping a finger inside the snug, clenched entrance or delving inside to caress the sensitive tissue inside. He couldn’t stop the hunger that dragged a ragged groan from his chest or the demand that he take more, that he have more of her.
Another finger. Pulling the panties aside, he watched as his fingers took her, thrusting, working slowly inside her as her hips arched and a strangled cry passed her lips.
She was tight around his fingers, her muscles fluttering, vibrating around his flesh. He tore the panties from her, the scraps of material fluttering to the floor as he gripped her thigh with one hand and watched as he possessed her. Fucking her with his fingers, loving her cries, the way she arched to him, and finally the way her body tightened, jerked, and heat surrounded his fingers as her orgasm rushed over her.
The folds of her pussy became flushed. Her clit stood out like a tiny dark pink pearl that throbbed and glistened as her juices coated his fingers and the swollen curves.
It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. This, watching the effects of her pleasure on her body, seeing her release, feeling it. Owning it.
“You’re mine,” he bit out roughly. “Mine, Bailey.”
She shook her head even as she shuddered through the final pulses of release.
“All fucking mine.”
CHAPTER 5
ALL FUCKING HIS.
John’s words echoed through her mind that night and into the next morning as she fought her body’s demand that she give in to the utter possessiveness that had filled his tone.
He had been very un-Trent-like. Trent hadn’t been that dominant, that possessive. He had been more casual, more fun-loving. But hadn’t she always sensed a darker core in him?
Driving along the mountainous road that led to Aspen the next afternoon, she fought to put aside the conflicting feelings that were making her crazy. She couldn’t get her heart, or her body, to meet with her mind where he was concerned. Was he, like Micah, a dead man walking? A man much closer to her than he wanted her to know?
No, she didn’t believe in coincidence, but she knew that she couldn’t depend on her emotions right now, either.
That left the man and the mission. For the moment, those two things she could control.
As she reached the city limits her cell phone rang imperatively, drawing a grimace to her lips as she pulled it from the console of her Mercedes SUV. She checked the number quickly.
Her brows lifted. She’d expected John, not the man she had always considered her nemesis.
“Hello, Raymond,” she answered as she slowed down to weave into the mass of tourist traffic entering ahead of her. “What can I do for you this morning?”
“Good afternoon, Bailey. Mary was wondering if you’d like to meet us for lunch at Casamara’s. That is, if you have nothing else planned.”
Her brows lifted. “I’d love to. I always enjoy Mary’s company.”
He chuckled at that, another surprising reaction. “Perhaps we should allow the past to remain in the past,” he said smoothly. “After all, there’s no reason for us to remain at odds, as you said the other night. We’ve both learned our lessons the hard way where the agency is concerned.”
“Trial by fire is more like it,” she muttered into the link.
“Yes, the betrayal can often be a hard one,” he said sympathetically. “Meet Mary and me, my dear. I think you’ll find the afternoon a rewarding one.”
She thought perhaps it was very possible.
“I’ve just entered town actually,” she told him. “When would you like to meet?”
