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“No. I’m sure you don’t enjoy it.” His tone and his expression are quiet. “But it’s safer that way.”
“We have to balance safety with quality of life. I’d be safer if I never left my apartment in the bunker, but you think that would be any way to live?”
“No one is expecting that.”
“I’m just saying. There has to be a balance. And maybe it’s not all that safe for you to up and leave whenever you want without any backup or protection.”
“I always take this Jeep. It’s armored. Bulletproof. I wouldn’t go by myself otherwise.”
I scowl at him, mostly because it’s annoying that he always has reasonable responses to my legitimate reproaches.
He almost, almost smiles.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
“What’s gotten into you today?” He doesn’t look angry or annoyed. His face is questioning and faintly amused. It’s a softer feeling than I normally see in him, and I can’t help but like it.
We’ve been walking back toward the Jeep, and now he leans over to grab two bottles of water out of the back. He tosses one to me, and I catch it gratefully.
After I take a big swallow, I reply to his question. “What do you mean, what’s gotten into me?”
“I don’t know. You just seem…” He shrugs. “You’re not normally so aggressive.”
“Aggressive?”I’m not sure why I take it as an insult, but it feels like one.
“Feisty?”
“That’s even worse! Kittens are feisty. Not me. Anyway, I’m not really acting different. This is the normal me. Maybe I’m just starting to lose patience.”
He’s leaning against the Jeep, periodically drinking from his water bottle. He’s even sweatier than I am. There are a couple of perspiration stains on his gray T-shirt. His worn jeans are riding low on his hips, and his blue eyes are glinting with something. Something that feels to me a lot like a challenge. “You’re losing your patience with what?”
And that’s what does it. That question. That look.
“With you.” I stride across the distance between us, reach up to drag his head down, and kiss him hard.
He stays still for a few moments—clearly taken by surprise—but it doesn’t take long before he’s responding. He tenses up, wraps one arm around me, and curves the other hand around the back of my head to hold me in place. He deepens the kiss almost fiercely, and it leaves me breathless and buzzing with feeling.
Then suddenly he releases me, drawing back a step and staring at me. He’s panting just as loudly as I am.
Neither of us says anything for a moment.
“You really want this?” he asks at last, soft and rough. His body is so taut I can see muscles rippling faintly in his jaw and in his arms.
Instead of answering with words, I pull my little white shirt off over my head. I’ve got a well-worn bra on underneath it, but it does little to hide the shape of my breasts and the pale expanse of my skin.
He devours my body with a hot gaze before he returns his focus to my face. “Not out here. I’ll be too distracted to keep an eye out for danger.” He nods toward the vehicle. “Passenger seat will have to do.”
He walks around to open the passenger side door, clearly expecting me to follow him. Then he grabs the back of his T-shirt and yanks it off over his head. I don’t have much time to admire the sight because he’s unhooking his gun holster and undoing his jeans.
“Take off the rest of your clothes, princess.”
I don’t know why, but the gruff authority in his tone really gets me going. Arousal tightens so quickly between my legs it almost hurts.
“Sorry,” he adds when I don’t move immediately. “But if you want it slow and gentle, we’ll have to wait until we have access to a bed.”
“I don’t want it slow and gentle.” I unhook my bra and pull it away from my breasts, and then I toe off my shoes and shimmy out of my jeans. It’s strange doing it outside, in the open air, but it’s also ridiculously arousing.
He’s already down to his underwear, and he climbs in to sit on the seat. When I’ve got my clothes off, he reaches an arm out toward me. “Climb on top of me. I’ve got to shut this door.”
