Page 34 of Every Last Breath

Like being submerged under water, fighting for air, drowning in the abyss, lungs too tight. Then busting through the surface into sunlight, gulping in a life-giving breath.

That’s what it was like kissing Cole.

* * *

Cole couldn’t stop Maddox coming in for a kiss any more than he could turn away from watching a six-car pileup. If she needed to get this out of her system, fine, he’d oblige. He’d take what she tossed at him and swing it right back. Prove to her and himself he wasn’t going to let her have him by a leash. Not again.

Then their lips touched.

God, the sweet ache of his insides jump-starting after nine years trapped in limbo. Not quite alive. Not quite dead. Starved for affection for so, so long.

He tried to rally his inhibitions, but they dispersed. He was an open box of dry tinder tossed in the air, and she set everything ablaze.

Maddox put her knee on the bed, straddled his thigh, spread her toned legs wide, and rocked her towel-clad curves against him. Torturing him.

His skin burned with a need he’d denied for almost a decade, seared down to the bone.

Against his better judgment, he did the stupidest thing possible—deepened the kiss. He took total command of her mouth, intent on drawing out her pleasure with every erotic stroke of his tongue. He slid his hand up under her towel and gripped her bare backside.

She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers diving into his hair. Her cool wet curls caressed his hot skin. A soft groan escaped her, the wicked vibrations shooting to his groin.

His body tightened, strained with want. He hadn’t been with a woman in three years, but the only one he’d ever hungered for was her.

He longed to rip off her towel, give in to the raw urge, and take her, but kissing her was like running in quicksand. Each caress and taste sucked him deeper into the ravening intensity, with no traction to be found in the millions of grains, threatening to swallow him whole.

He damn sure couldn’t sleep with her.

The cell on the nightstand rang.

She went rigid, her mouth leaving his, gaze whipping toward the phone.

He glanced at the screen. “Helios Importing and Exporting.” The employer’s name that Linda had found in the background check. “Code for CIA?”

The phone continued to ring, but she didn’t reach for it. Probably her boss checking to see if she’d made headway with the asset. More like a puppet, and she was pulling his strings.

How had he let it happen?

If he didn’t screw his brain in tight, they might not make it through the auction alive.

* * *

Helios Importing and Exporting. Code for CIA?

Fury had lit his eyes, biting sarcasm had chewed through his words, and Maddox cringed on the inside.

Cole stood, nudging her away from him.

Grasping the top of the towel, she longed to cover up with the thickest pair of sweats she owned. Back to square one. The phone stopped ringing, and she exhaled.

“You should open the envelope,” he said, his tone icy.

She eyed the gleaming gold letters on the envelope and was torn. A to Z, the mission first, her head prompted, but her body and heart won by majority.

This was an opportunity to clear the air she didn’t want to lose. “The passcode can wait.”

“It’s not a passcode.” Cole’s expression was closed down, hard and frigid. “You asked for my help. From the looks of things, you’re still going to need it. And when this is done, we can be done.”

Everything seemed to slow down—her breath, her thoughts. Everything except for the way her chest pinched and the ache that flowed. “Is that what you want?” Her voice came out a thread of sound.