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Dear Lord!My head needed to be examined. I’d spent weeks terrified I’d never see Coop again. I was furious at him for inexplicably leaving. Frightened, confused, hurt…and though it was tough to admit considering we’d never even touched, my heart had been wrecked when he’d vanished without a trace. Yet a stupid screenshot of him could still completely derail me with delusions and desire.
How could one gorgeous, but frustrating—infuriating—man have such a massive effect on me? I was a capable, intelligent, task-driven professional. As Omar Zaki’s right hand, I had authority over the Beryl Enterprises empire, which included multiple specialized operations teams full of cocksure alpha men.
So why couldn’t I control my own thoughts when it came to one, very annoying, smoking hot, Michael freaking Cooper?
The man had a way of slipping up on me and taking over my mind the same way scents of plumeria and rain had slid beneath my balcony’s French doors to saturate my room. Being unable to stop myself from jumping his bones was half the reason I’d kept him in the Dubai offices and far away from the island for so long. I had too much to lose to be getting sexually involved with anyone I had true feelings for.
Asking him to relocate had been reckless and impetuous.
Foolhardy.
The mere sight of him, even on a computer screen, melted my resolve and my body like butter on a beach. Now was no different.
I wanted him here—not just here…here with me—more than I’d ever wanted anything.
As I had so many times before, I imagined him on the island. Actual flesh and bone in my room…on my bed…against my body. His lips traveling down my neck, still wet from the rain as they slid across my skin. His hot mouth hungrily cutting between my breasts, leaving a buzzing trail of need in its wake.
I tugged apart the perfect little bow at the waistband on my pajama bottoms as I spread my knees. My body needed him even if it couldn’t have him. Careful not to let my tablet fall, I gazed at Coop’s image while turning my wicked imagination loose. Instead of the streets of Brazil, I envisioned those beard-roughened cheeks of his were buried between my thighs. Sliding my hand down, I let my fingers do all the things I wanted his tongue to do to me.
Wild images of Coop flooded my head. Lifting me, covering me, filling me. The gusting wind and slapping palm fronds of the real world muted. Sounding in my passion-fogged brain were the near-realistic hollow thuds of the bed knocking rhythmically into the wall followed by a husky voice, “Aziza…”
Imagining him saying my name sent me right up to the edge. Right out of my body. My strangled reply caught along with my breath, “Com…in—”
A very real, ear-splitting creak of the bedroom door jolted me out of the fantasy. Hard. I jerked upright as my eyes shot open to a large man’s darkened profile coming through the doorway. Coop?Here?For real?
I scrambled to hike my pajamas back up and cover my lap with the sheets as a voice that did not belong to Coop speared my heart. “Sorry to bother, ma’am.”
My tablet slid, crashing to the floor along with my hopes.
“Oh, shit.” Brecken Wolfe flipped on my light. “You all right, Zee?”
“Yeah, yes, I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting you.”
Before disappearing, Coop had sent Wolfe to Marakata Cay by promoting him to the newly created Chief of Island Spec Ops position. In other words, he was Coop’s idea of a solution. Like Coop, most of the elite operators were tall, muscular, and looked like they hunted all their meals with their bare hands. But Wolfe’s Nordic features, keen glacial eyes, and dirty blond, braided Mohawk gave him a distinct Viking flair.
“I mean, you surprised me. I didn’t hear you…” Watching him salvage my computer from the floor, I grappled for the words. Wait… Had the bed knocking actually been Wolfe knocking on the door? Ugh. Clearing my throat, I removed a dangling AirPod from my ear. The other one must’ve become lost in my pillows. “Had my buds in.”
“Sorry about that, I could’ve sworn I heard you say to come in.”
Come in…coming…Same thing. Good Lord! I wanted to die of embarrassment. One of my employees had just walked in on me while I got off on the fantasy of another employee.
Seriously, Aziza? Seriously?
Thankfully my hand wasn’t still down my pants as he handed the computer back to me.
It wasn’t like it would’ve shocked him. Sex of all kinds abounded on Zaki’s private island. At many times Marakata Cay was a hedonistic oasis. Two weeks ago we’d hosted a whole seminar series devoted to self-pleasure, for fudge sake! But…I was me. Between being much younger-looking than my thirty-two years, female, and having the black hair and olive skin tone of my father’s Arabic roots, I had to fight for respect with the powerful people I worked with. Many of whom preferred to dismiss me as some glorified harem girl of OZ’s.
Better than them knowing my real relationship to Omar Zaki, I supposed.
I dared a glance at Wolfe, knowing the heat from between my legs had shot to my face. From his stoic expression, I couldn’t tell if he’d realized what he’d walked in on. “I was on a video chat,” I fibbed.
Wolfe grunted. “I knew that bastard didn’t take a vacation. Freaking workaholic barely takes a piss break.”
Lowering my eyes, I realized my screen was still zoomed in on the man I’d been using every resource at my extensive disposal to basically stalk like a scorned ex-girlfriend. Shit. The cherry topping off my mortification sundae—Coop was not only Wolfe’s direct supervisor, but they were also close friends and former SEAL teammates. If it got back to him that I’d completely disregarded his privacy and tracked him down…or worse, he found out I was clinging to some romantic notion of us when he so clearly didn’t see me the same way… Ack!
Ruining our friendship was the last thing I wanted to do. If we were even friends. Nothing was certain where Coop and I were concerned. A lesson I seemed determined to learn the hard way.
I pushed out a thought-clearing breath. Before I could change the subject, Wolfe mused, “I knew something had to be up when he missed Will’s funeral. What’s the scoop?”
