Page 127 of Covert Mission

“What’s your real name?”

I lick my lips as my nerves jangle like wind chimes in a hurricane.

I’ve had days to think about this conversation, and I still don’t know how and what to tell Lucas.

Giving him my real name won’t exactly hurt… but it leads to a whole line of other questions that could backfire on me. I am still employed by PCI, for another few minutes that is…

It has to be approaching an hour now since I talked to Nighthawk.

Crap.

Lucas’s expression darkens, eyelids lowering until those dark eyes are frustrated slits. “I can see other tactics are required.”

The pads of his fingers tighten on my face, and his mouth crashes into mine.

He forces his way in, commanding my attention with a hot, greedy thrust of his tongue.

I might be moaning… But I’m out of my mind so fast I’m not sure.

He angles my face, and thrusts in again, deeper, dancing his tongue along my mine, promising things I refuse to admit I want.

Did I just whimper?

Oh my god. What kind of voodoo is this man?

Lucas is my personal recipe for disaster.

While I have a mental meltdown, he claims every single recess of my mouth with exacting purpose. I love it.

Damn him, he knows what he’s doing.

My foolish legs widen when he presses his knee between my thighs.

I inhale swiftly against his mouth when his quadriceps brush against my clitoris.

For a long, hot minute we’re a pretzel of limbs, gasping breaths, and growly pleasure.

When he tears away, breathing raggedly, his eyes are wild. His hand moves from my jaw to fist my hair. “Name.”

I’m panting. There might be a hint of madness in my voice when I sputter at him“What?”

“What’s your real name? Give it to me.”

It takes a minute before I can even see straight. Apparently, I take too long because his rough grip tightens in my hair and he comes at me again.

Unrelenting, he commands my mouth open with his.

Whoa, Nelly.

He really is going for answers. This is a full-body kiss. Not a single cell that I own is exempt from what he’s doing to me.

This time, the way he takes my mouth is wilder. Wetter. Deeper. Over the top. Filled with a kind of desperation that matches the clawing need inside of me.

When he pulls back minutes later, he’s growling. His lips are wet and dark red from the assault on mine.

My knees are useless. I’m on fire in places that have never thought about sex before.

I want,want,want Lucas.

---