Page 72 of Trigger Happy Ending

Finally, the door opens at 2:57 am.

She slips inside silently, tossing her duffel bag onto the floor next to my feet like she’s come home from a fucking yoga retreat. She’s no longer wearing the red latex, but rather sweatpants and a singlet.

She leans back against the wall next to the door and folds her arms. “You left.”

She’s pissed off.

“Why?” she presses.

My breathing is heavy as I try to lower my heart rate. How do I even answer that? Because I was afraid of what I’d do? Because I can’t stand to see another man touch her? Because I’m feeling fucked up?

I stand and run my hands over my face.

The truth is on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell her seeing her on Alex’s lap had me ready to slit his throat and watch him bleed out all over the velvet lounge, but I swallow it down. “I don’t like that Alex guy.”

“So? Neither do I.”

I huff out a laugh, like I don’t believe a goddamn word she says.

“Why are you laughing? You left me there!”

“You didn’t look too bothered.”

The words taste like shit as they leave my mouth.

“Jesus, it’s called ‘deep cover.’ And doing whatever it takes.”

“You seem to enjoy doing whatever it takes.” I sound like a jealous prick, but I don’t care. I’m tired and wound the fuck up.

“Well, you didn’t have a problem when I did the exact same thing to you. In fact …” The corner of her mouth curls as her gaze drops to my crotch. “It felt to me like you really, really enjoyed it.”

My pulse rages. Fury and desire war inside me like fucking gladiators.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Were you jealous? When I was on him? Feeling his cock hard under my ass. He had me hot.” She huffs as she slides her hands up over her tight body. “So hot.”

I’m moving before I know what’s happening, slamming a palm against the wall beside her head. She doesn’t flinch at my aggressiveness, but rather bathes in it. My other hand finds the wall, caging her in. Her sweet, vanilla scent floods my airways, and it’s all I can breathe.

“Jealous?” I rasp. “You think I give a fuck?”

I give the biggest fuck.

“I don’t know …” Her eyes glint in the semi-darkness. “Do you?”

That question guts me, because, yeah. I do. I nearly lost control and compromised the entire assignment because of how much I give a fuck.

“Do you want me?” Four words as whispers force my gaze to drop to her mouth. Then to her throat and down to the body that’s been the source of all my fantasies for weeks. My fist tightens against the wall as her hand finds its way to my body. Her fingers trail down the center of my chest before she palms me over my sweatpants. I’m hard as granite. Her touch wipes out the last of my restraint and vaporizes any remaining shred of control.

It’s three in the morning, and I’m about to burn the whole fucking world down.

“Fuck it.”

I crash my mouth to hers, and it’s exactly as soul-crushing as I knew it would be. She tastes like a hurricane, laced with the apocalypse. She’s the end of the universe and the beginning of a new one. My hands fist in her hair, yanking her head back so I can devour her properly and own her mouth. Her moan vibrates straight through me, and fuck me, if that’s not the sexiest, most devastating sound.

My hands lift her underneath her perfect ass and slam her against the wall. Her legs lock around my waist, pulling me tight, the grind of her heat against me so sharp it borders on pain. Her tongue dances with mine, weeks of sexual tension unloading in this all-consuming kiss.

Her nails rake down my back, a feeling I’ve craved for weeks now. I want her to slice me open, again and again. The way she presses her nails into my skin has me knowing she’s been thinking the same thing.