I lifted my head. “What?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
She started to answer, then stopped.
I took off the first boot, then the second. Dust fell onto my floor. The flower tattoo curled around her ankle and lower leg, the same mark that had fooled my paperwork and started everything wrong.
I kissed the inside of her ankle.
Jade’s fingers tightened in the sheet. “That’s a dangerous place to be with sore ribs.”
“I’m not worried about my ribs.”
“You should be worried about my temper.”
“I like your temper.”
“I know. It’s a problem with your judgment.”
I moved up her body, hands on her calves, her thighs, the worn denim of her shorts. “My judgment brought you here.”
“No. My sister’s criminal boss brought me here. Your judgment followed late.”
“Fair.”
She touched my jaw. “But you showed up.”
My throat went tight.
I covered her hand. “I showed up.”
Her eyes shone before she pulled me down and kissed me hard.
I helped her out of the overshirt, then the tank. Her bra came next, black and plain and shoved off with impatient hands because Jade apparently hated clasps in every crisis. I took my time once she was bare from the waist up.
She drew breath to talk. “If you’re about to be noble again, I’m leaving a bad review.”
I put my mouth to her breast, and the rest of the review came out as a gasp.
I smiled against her skin. “You reorganizing?”
“Shut up.”
“Not a chance.”
I licked her nipple, then drew it into my mouth. Her back arched. Her hand went into my hair, fingers tightening enough to sting. I welcomed it. Every sound she made in this room belonged to her; none of it had to be strategy, escape, or a weapon unless she wanted it to be.
Her hips shifted under me.
I slid one hand down, opened the button of her shorts, and paused.
Jade lifted her head. “If you ask me whether I’m sure, I’ll respect you and resent you at the same time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Her voice softened. “I’m sure.”
