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As the clock ticks on, I realize I’m dragging my feet for no good reason. The mission is completed, and I should go. I’ve learned more than enough to convince Big Al that I’m the best person for the job.
The only question that remains is, why does completing tonight’s mission feel so shitty? It’s supposed to feel good and be a thrill— an almost orgasmic high. Zings of light usually pulse through me when I’ve bested my target.
But it doesn’t feel that way tonight. It feels like failure.
The sour taste of regret is offset by the sweet smell of his skin overwhelming me.
So I allow myself a few more moments to get lost in him. Just drowning in his presence to ease the unusual ache my deceit has caused.
We laugh and flirt the rest of the night away. The next thing I know, it’s last call, and I’m seconds away from doing something monumentally stupid.
I know better than to do this.
But I can’t help myself.
I want him. Intensely. Desperately.
And fuck me, but I haven’t felt a connection to someone in ages. Despite my being a fraud all night, that spark between us is genuine. It’s not only carnal or physical, either. And although that should scare me away from doing this, it’s making me want him more.
Tonight’s my only chance to have him. Once he finds out who I am, this encounter will drive a giant friggin’ wedge between us.
I want to indulge for one night.
One.
Everything inside me— save for that single voice of reason— is screaming at me to succumb to my desires.
By the time the bar closes, I’ve made up my mind to give in to the temptation of this magnetic man.
“Will you walk me out, Cal?”
“Of course. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t take care of what’s mine?”
Unbelievably cheesy and utterly adorable at the same time.
Just like him.
“Smooth, Cal. Real smooth.”
Like a cobblestone road.
Once outside, I take his hand, savoring the feel of his strong grip and how his large hand engulfs mine. Even his hands are masculine and sexy.
Instead of leading him to the parking lot, I pull him into an alleyway between the buildings. Ineedto kiss him.
Now.
If the kiss sucks, I’ll stop this madness and return to my hotel. Alone.
See? Another perfectly logical rationalization for irrational behavior.
Planting my feet, I grip his collar and pull his mouth to me like I did with the lime trick.
He takes control, slamming his lips to mine and wrapping his arms around me. I’m intoxicated from not only the booze but also his scent. I don’t know what it is, but I need more. If I could bottle and sell it, I’d be raking in the dough for the rest of time.
Our tongues tangle while I roam my hands over the nape of his neck and across his broad shoulders. Is he carved from marble? He’s freaking ripped under this loose-fitting shirt.
Pressing me against the side of the building, he runs his palms along my back and squeezes my ass. It sends a heart-pounding jolt through my entire body, landing in my clit. His sinful hands move to the spot where my hips meet my outer thighs, and he tugs upward, spreading my legs and picking me up. My thighs surround his strong core, and he rocks his thick erection against my needy center.
