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“No.” He squeezed her hand and went back to watching her hips sway in front of him when she turned around. “Get Friday off the line,” he barked into his mic.
“No—” Friday started to complain, but then there was silence.
“She’s gone,” Striker said. “This is just between us. What’s going on?”
“This situation is out of control. I thought I heard…” He trailed off, unable to talk about the voice that had sounded in his head at the sight of her. Terrified of making the experience real by putting it into words. Because he had to have been mistaken about it, for both their sakes.
“Look,” he huffed instead. “Keiko’s nothing like we thought she’d be.” Nothing like he’d thought she’d be. He’d expected a hardheaded businesswoman, someone in CommTECH’s schemes up to her neck or someone so sheltered and naive that she was clueless to what was going on around her. Instead, she was funny, caring, and sexy as hell, and he couldn’t think straight from wanting to touch her. “I told you before this that I thought this plan sucked. Now that I’ve met her, I really think it sucks. There has to be another way to get into that press conference. One that doesn’t involve blackmail.”
“If there was another way, we’d take it.” Although Striker sounded sympathetic, he was immovable.
Mace’s stomach clenched tight. “I’ll do my job. I’ll bring her in. But I want it on the record that this doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Duly noted,” Striker said. “You know how important this mission is. Friday might piss you off, but you don’t want millions of people to die any more than she does.”
As much as Mace might wish otherwise, Striker was right. He ran a hand through his hair. “You’d better be waiting when we get there.” Because he had no idea how long his willpower would hold out against Keiko if they were alone in his hotel room.
“We will.”
“Then we’ll see you in a few.” With that, Mace subtly removed his earpiece and thrust it into his pocket.
The path to the elevators cleared in front of them, and when the doors opened, he tugged Keiko into the corner. Leaning back against the wall, Mace pulled her to him, her back to his front, splaying his hand on her stomach to hold her in place.
She looked up at him. “Please tell me you know what you’re doing in bed.”
A guy who was about to step inside the elevator heard her words and grinned at Mace. “I’ll take the next one,” he said.
Mace gave him a droll smile as he answered the woman in his arms. “No man’s going to admit to being crap in bed, but I haven’t had any complaints.”
She frowned. “I need to have a serious talk with the owner of this club. Of all the clubs. All this information on their network, but no rating system for prospective lovers. Someone needs to sort that out. There’s a definite gap in the market.”
“Tell you what,” he said, his words a breath over her ear, “why don’t you rate me as we go? That way, if I don’t meet your standards, we can call a halt to our time together.”
“Okay.” She let out a sigh. “But an official rating system would be easier.” She angled her face to look up at him. “Don’t disappoint me.”
He wondered if she’d meant it as an order, because he’d heard it as a plea. There was a vulnerability in her voice that called to him, and it made him sick that he couldn’t reassure her she was safe with him.
“I’ll do my best.” And in that moment, with every cell of his body, he wished he was taking her back to his hotel room to make love to her.
She looked back down, resting her head against his chest as her hand stroked the outside of his thigh. His muscles clenched under her touch. He wanted to press her against the wall, push up her dress, and indulge himself in every inch of her.
She was the mission. The target. A job.
His hands shook, and his head spun. He needed to calm the hell down and take back control of the situation.
If he’d ever had control.
Her backside ground against him, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life, and his resolve snapped.
Fuck it.
Turning them, he pressed her back to the wall and ravaged her mouth with a kiss so desperate and hungry it would have shocked him if he’d been thinking straight. But then, he wasn’t thinking at all. Greedy hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from his pants. Hot fingers kneaded his abs as Keiko moaned into his mouth. He grasped her hands, bringing them over her head, holding them easily in one of his. Hooking the other under her knee, he lifted her leg around his hip, sliding up the silken smoothness of her thigh, cupping her soft, round ass in his hand.
“Yes,” she gasped against him, pushing her breasts against his chest.
It wasn’t enough. Letting go of her hands, he grasped her waist and lifted. “Legs around me,” he ordered gruffly.
She didn’t hesitate to comply. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing her hot core against his stomach. He ran his other hand under her dress to her ass, skimming down the curves, over her panties. Feeling lace, skin, and hot, wet promise. Their kiss deepened, became tinged with desperation.
