His brow furrowed, adorable lines creasing the bridge of his nose. He did that whenever he tried to puzzle her out. Judge if she’d spoken the truth or just enough of it to skate by. She obviously passed inspection because he led her over to the couch.
She sucked in a deep breath, cursed the spicy essence of citrus and pine that clung to his skin and along hers, then started for the sofa. She got halfway there when he cleared his throat, stopped her with a gentle hook of her elbow.
His mouth pursed tight as she stared up at him, the energy in the room crackling around them. He tilted his head, exhaled, then drew himself up. “Do you ever regret it?”
She coughed. Had they had a conversation she’d forgotten about that they were just picking up on, now? “Do I ever regret what?”
The lines around his mouth deepened. “Making that call.” He waved his hand. “I know you said not helping us wasn’t an option, but…” He blew out another breath. “If you hadn’t, you might have toppled the Herrera cartel by now. Gotten your choice of any DEA office.” He stepped closer. “Been able to do more than hide these past five months.”
She let the words sink in, the honesty in his voice unmistakable. “Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe, I’d be dead.”
McGuire frowned, nostrils flaring as he shook his head. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“I’m not joking, no…”
She placed her hand on his chest to stop him from advancing. Maybe backing her against the wall where she knew she’d eventually act on all the tension straining her muscles. Finally taste his mouth.
She took a breath, spoke the words she’d never uttered to anyone, not even herself. “Do you want to know the truth?”
He narrowed his gaze, stared at her for a few agonizing heartbeats before nodding.
She swallowed, tried not to gag on it. “The truth is, I was drowning. Watching myself become someone I didn’t recognize. Having to push the edges of what I needed to do to stay alive and what my conscience — my oath — allowed me to do. Looking back, I’d started taking chances. Pushing those boundaries because I was either going to end Herrera or die trying.”
She moved forward, got a breath away. “That night, I only saw the monitor because I’d snuck into the command room. Was determined to get that final piece of proof or end it. Seeing your team pop up…”
She closed her eyes for a moment, breathed. “I needed an out. You gave me a way to leave without breaking that oath. Without feeling as if I’d caved. The truth is, I didn’t save you that night, you saved me.”
The muscle in McGuire’s temple flexed as he clenched his jaw, blew out a rough breath before he brushed his thumb along her chin. “Riven.”
“Have I read this all wrong? Because I swear there’s been something brewing between us since that night. Since before I even realized what you meant to me. The reason I waited everyevening for you to come into the bar, not knowing who you really were but sensing it just the same.”
He stared for a while, breath rasping across her cheek before he cupped one arm, backed her against the wall just like she’d been envisioning. He leaned in, one hand palming the wall next to her shoulder, the other down by her waist, effectively boxing her in.
He stared at her, his gaze laser-focused on her. “Why do you think I’ve been sleeping with you on that crappy couch? I can’t keep my hands off you, stop thinking about you for more than a second. Hell, I can barely fucking breathe, but I didn’t want you to think I’m the kind of man who takes advantage of a situation. That I only wanted a quick tumble between the sheets. That you’re nothing more than a distraction to me.” He broke eye contact for a moment. “The truth is, I’m already gone, but…”
He met her gaze. “You’re not wrong.”
The pressure around her heart eased, and she tiptoed up, wrapped her hands around his neck. “Then, for the love of god, make a move. Preferably one that ends with both of us naked, making good use of that shitty mattress until Patch pounds on the door in the morning.”
She brushed her lips over his. “I don’t need promises, McGuire. I just need you, loving me. For however long it lasts.”
He stared at her, breath stalled, those deep-blue eyes staring into hers before he smiled, slipped his fingers along her jaw and behind her head as he slanted his lips fully over hers.
Claimed her mouth.
Electric.
Like the lightning flashing in the sky — positive to negative, then back. Crackling the air around them as he moaned into the kiss. Dissolved the room into the space between his heart and hers.
She lost herself in the heat. The way his fingers fisted her hair, every muscular inch of him pressed against her. His hand flexed, tugged on her hair…
That pushed her over. Had her climbing him like a tree, wrapping her legs around his waist as he braced one arm under her ass. He teetered back, stumbled his way across the floor and into the room, kicking the flimsy door shut behind them.
McGuire stopped just shy of hitting the bed, his chest heaving against hers when he released her long enough to suck in a breath, smile at her. She moved with him when he eased her onto her feet, her arms still encircling his neck, her pulse pounding inside her head.
He dropped his mouth to her neck, nipped his way down to her shoulder. “You smell so damn good. I don’t know how you do it.”
His fingers danced along her skin as they traced a line down her arm, jumped to the hem of her tank, then back up as he took the fabric with him, finally pulling the flimsy thing over her head. A twist, and a pivot, and her bra vanished. Disappeared as if he’d simply willed it away. A quick brush and a tug, and the sweats dropped. Hit the floor with a thud that echoed her heart thrashing against her ribs.
