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He’d kissed her weeks ago on the Sentinel Security jet. He’d been teasing her, enjoying riling her up as she’d tried to treat one of his wounds.
Maybe this time it would be enough.
Her hands slid into his hair, tugging it free of its tie, and she made a needy noise. Her bold tongue tangled with his.
He hitched her up. She barely weighed anything. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and pressed her hot, little core against his abs.
Fuck.Fuck. He kissed her harder, forcing her mouth wider. He was lost in her.
The song ended. Another started. They kept kissing. She made a hungry noise, deepening the kiss.
But when the next song ended, a popular song started, and people started clapping and hollering. It broke through the spell.
What the fuck was he doing?
He wrenched his mouth free.
Her face was flushed, her lips parted.
Jet was a temptation he had to avoid. He couldn’t give her what she needed, what she deserved.
He set her down.
He saw some of the desire bleed from her face. “Cain?”
“Sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”
Now her face hardened. “Why?”
“Got carried away. It was a mistake.”
She jerked. “A mistake.”
He heard the hurt in her voice. He hated it. “Jet—”
“Why are you here?” she demanded.
“I need you.”
Her lips parted, something unreadable moving through her gaze.
“For a job,” he hastily added.
Now, her face shuttered. “Then you should’ve said that at the beginning.” Her voice was sharp. “You shouldn’t have danced with me, or kissed me.”
“Won’t happen again.”
Now, there was a familiar flare in her eyes. He knew that pissed-off look very well.
“Good.” She whirled and stomped back toward the table.
Cain mentally cursed himself, then shoved his hands in his pockets and followed her.
He had a mission.
That was all he ever had.
He needed to keep his hands off Jet Adler.
