Page 60 of Hidden Attraction

His anger didn’t vanish. It thrummed just under his skin. But the worst of it—the blind rage—eased in the face of something totally unexpected.

Her touch did it to him. Her trust changed him.

They stood there for a long minute, breathing each other in.

Hours stretched between now and when they could leave this place behind, between now and whatever waited for them on the other side.

Chase knew what was coming. He saw it in her eyes when she finally tilted her head back to look at him.

This might be their last chance.

No future. No promises. She was a diplomat, and he was a soldier who lived in the shadows. Their worlds didn’t cross—not in the daylight, anyway.

He cupped her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs along her jaw. Her breath hitched, her hands finding his sides and lingering there, grounding herself.

“Julian…” she whispered, the syllables almost silent.

It shattered him.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

He kissed her instead.

Their mouths crashed together, desperate and unrestrained. She opened for him instantly, her body pressing into his like she couldn’t get close enough.

Chase backed her into the chipped counter, lifting her onto it without breaking the kiss. Her thighs bracketed his hips, and he slid his hands under the hem of her shirt, needing to feel her. Needing more.

Alyssa tugged at his T-shirt, bunching it in her fists and shoving it upward until he helped her strip it over his head. Her nails scraped lightly down his chest, making him hiss against her mouth.

He gripped the backs of her thighs and pulled her closer to the edge, grinding against her until she gasped into his mouth.

The heat between them was nuclear now. White-hot and impossible to contain.

Chase broke the kiss long enough to yank her shirt over her head, baring her to him. His mouth found the sensitive skin of her neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts. Alyssa arched into him, her hands sliding into his hair and tugging.

“More,” she breathed against his ear.

He gave it to her.

He found the waistband of her loose pants, dragged them down along with her underwear. She shifted to help him shimmy them off, then kicked them to the floor without hesitation, her legs wrapping around his waist.

He should have slowed down. Should have taken his time and made this last.

But there was a clock counting down in both of their heads.

Tomorrow, she would walk back into her world. And he would fade into his. Separate. Always separate.

He unzipped his jeans with shaking hands, barely pushing them down far enough. Alyssa reached between them and helped, her fingers brushing his length, making him groan low in his throat.

“Fuck. Condom,” he growled against her eager lips.

His cock pounded with the need to fill her without barriers, but they both knew that was too risky.

He one-handedly tugged his jeans back up and lifted her, still wrapped around him. Carrying her to bed felt like the most natural thing in the world. Suddenly, his imagination flooded with more times just like this one, only in their own place. Their own bed.

His own damn woman.

None of that was possible, but one more time with Alyssa was.

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