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“I can’t. I can’t.” Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him. “Please…”
“Not yet.” Slowly, keeping his eyes locked on hers, he lowered his mouth toward her breast, his target the firm little bud that poked out against her red silk dress. All the while, he continued surging up into her, hitting the spot inside of her that made her mewl as her eyes glazed over.
“Please,” she begged, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.
“With me,” he growled. “Now.”
He bit down hard on her sensitive nipple. It was enough to send her over the edge. She let out a loud wail, clamping down on him, milking him for everything he had to give. He groaned and flexed within her, exploding along with her. Holding her tight, he reveled in the heat and softness of her body writhing against his. With
one last shudder, she slumped forward, her head on his chest, over his rapidly beating heart.
Mace smoothed a hand up and down her spine, wishing he felt satin-smooth skin under his touch instead of silk fabric. His arms flexed tight as a dark, needy possession ripped through him. He didn’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever.
The mission. The target, his conscience reminded, and his hold on her eased. She wasn’t for him. This was just a moment stolen from reality. That was all it was.
She nuzzled against his chest. “You do know what you’re doing,” she said on a satisfied sigh.
Mace’s answering smile felt bittersweet. It was a smile tinged with longing and loss—for something he’d never really had.
“Happy birthday to me,” she sang, slightly off-key.
His heart squeezed tight at the sound. She was burrowing deeper into him with every word. And he found he didn’t care.
“I feel so used,” he said drolly.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this replete, if ever. He wanted to tell the car to keep circling the block forever, wanted to stay in the little cocoon they’d created. He wanted to forget about his duty, his reason for being there. Forget about the lies he’d told. He wanted to make love to her until this burning need was excised from his system—if that was even possible.
“Let’s do it again.” Keiko sounded drugged as she pressed a kiss to his throat.
His eyes scrunched tight as her words slapped him back to reality. When Keiko found out that he planned to blackmail her, that he’d gone to the club to hunt her down and use her, there would be no repeat. There would be no forgiveness. Not for this. Not for giving in to the chemistry between them when he knew what lay ahead.
All he could do to make amends was contact Striker before they headed up to the room and offer an alternative plan. Instead of blackmail, they could reason with her. Appeal to her sense of fairness, to her kind heart, make her see how important it was for them to attend the press conference, to get information to stop the faulty datachips from being released. To keep people from dying. She was a reasonable person, smart and compassionate. She’d go for it. He knew she would. All he needed to do was sell the new plan to Striker before they got to his room.
And hope Striker listened.
But even if the plan changed and they didn’t go ahead with blackmail, Keiko would still know he’d set her up. She would never again look at him with desire and vulnerability. And he couldn’t deny the stabbing loss he felt knowing that.
“Kiss me,” he ordered. Letting himself steal one last minute before they went up to his hotel room.
She came to him eagerly, unaware that he was the bastard who was going to mess up her life. Unaware that she’d hate him before the night was over. But nothing Keiko could feel toward him would be worse than what he already felt.
Because he’d slept with the target.
He’d compromised the mission.
And he had no regrets.
Chapter Five
Mace led Keiko to a sofa near the concierge desk in the lobby. “Wait here a minute. I just need to make a quick call.”
“Can’t you do that from the room?”
His eyes turned molten. “We both know that once we get up there, I won’t be able to focus on anything but you.”
She liked the sound of that. “Okay, go make your call. But hurry.”
He pointed at the sofa. “But you stay here. Right? Don’t move. Got me?”
