Page 67 of Gilded Saint

“Keep your ears open.”

“Won’t satellite imaging and monitoring market fluctuations tell you all you need to know?”

“You’re done, aren’t you?”

I lift my gaze to the ceiling. He’s right. I’m exhausted with this game. But I’m not a quitter. “It’s all feeling senseless. The syndicate is wealthier and more powerful now than before I started.”

“You’ve been a saint to last this long.”

Is that his idea of a joke? “My next update will be through Nomad. Figure out my trip for my bride to meet my family. Nick’s going to ask me about it.”

“We’ll look into it. And hang in there. You’ve got to trust me. What you’re sharing with us? The intel is invaluable.”

A shadow crosses below the threshold of the door, and it pushes open. Cornflower blue irises warm me like a bolt of sun through a cloud-soaked day.

“Let me know if there’s anything else we can do to help Lina.” I end the call, knowing Jack will understand my nonsensical sentence means we got interrupted. And not a moment too soon. There was a time when I ranked Jack Sullivan as hero, but five years into this, and I’m about done with the guy.

“How’s Lina?”

“Nick’s taking care of her. She’ll be fine.”

“You know, she’s convinced it was just a random guy from the bar.”

“Men can be monsters.” I push off the sofa and stalk toward her.

“You’re like my father. You’re not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”

I pin her against the wall with one hand on each side of her face, my gaze falling from those gorgeous eyes, down the slope of her nose, to those full, rosy lips, and farther down her creamy, smooth skin to her décolletage.

“My business is boring. But you know what’s not boring?” My hand cups her breast over her shirt, and she responds with a gasp. “You.”

Her fingers tenderly trace the outline of my erection through my jeans. “Apparently so.”

I grin and bend until my nose presses to her shoulder and I breathe in her flower garden scent and kiss and suck my way up the length of her neck. She tilts her head, giving me room, but it’s the tips of her fingers, lightly teasing my tip, that’s going to push me right over the edge.

“If you unzip my jeans, you’ll have better access.”

A flicker of a smile crosses her lips before I claim them. Kissing her is fast becoming my favorite activity. She moans into my mouth, and I press her into the wall, trapping her hand between us. Her leg lifts, effectively cradling me against her, and I groan.

There’s pressure on my chest, pushing me back, and I break the kiss, concerned. Does she not want this?

Her lips are glistening and swollen, and she’s panting. All good signs.

Those luscious lips curve into a smile and the tip of her tongue covers the center of her upper lip. My breaths are coming out at a quick pace, but they skid when her knees bend and she lowers herself to the ground.

Kneeling before me, she unzips my jeans, releasing my hard-as-stone cock. She grips the base and licks her lips. Thank god for the wall because without my hand planted against it, I might crash.

The tip of her thumb rubs over my crown, smearing the leaking pre-cum. I suck in air, fascinated with her every move. Hot, wet heat wraps around me, and I brush her thick hair out of the way, for her, and for me, because I don’t want to miss a second.

The rest of the world falls away. My fucked-up role. China. Russia. The shadow fleet. It’s just me and her. Her mouth. Warm and hot. Sucking. Licking. Taking me deep to the back of her throat. My balls tighten, and a desperation to be inside her surges.

I pull her up, lifting her, reaching my desk in seconds. My laptop, files, and pens fly, clattering to the ground.

Her chest heaves, and she lifts her top as I grasp her waistband, tugging down her loose pants in one swoop. Pale pink panties are all that’s left and I shift them out of the way and ram into her.

Jesus.

“So fucking tight,” I grunt.