Page 72 of Taking Care of the Target

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he said, his voice husky. “You, me. Just like this.” He ran his hands over her as if he was memorizing every inch, and then he slid her dress down her legs and tossed it aside.

He hooked a finger in the string of her underwear, tracing all the way around to the back, and gripped her butt. “Damn, baby, if I’d known you were going around wearing thongs, I never would’ve lasted this long.”

“Well, I planned on seducing you tonight.”

He grinned and then his lips hit her skin again, right below her bellybutton, a hot exhale of breath followed by the soft press of his lips and delicious scrape of his whiskers. He tugged down her underwear, and she lost herself in a sea of euphoria as he moved his tongue over her center.

She threaded her hands through his hair as he drove her closer to the edge with his mouth, gasping as his whiskers dragged across her thigh. Just when she didn’t think she could take the onslaught of amazing sensations any longer, one last stroke of his tongue sent her right over, the orgasm tingling through every inch of her body.

The room spun and her limbs fell into a useless heap on the sheets, no longer remembering how to work.

When Vince lifted himself off the bed, she attempted to protest, but all that came out was a jumbled mess of consonants. Fortunately, he came right back with a condom. He looked down at her, an awestruck expression on his face that sent a whole new kind of warmth coursing through her veins.

He lowered himself onto her, and she wrapped her arms around him, basking in the combination of skin on skin and the way his weight pressed against her. “I completely lose my mind with I’m with you, you know that?” he asked. “You’re sexy and amazing, and for you to look past everything…I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Like it or not, you’re a good guy, Vince DaMarco.” She raised her head and kissed him, finishing it off with a gentle bite to his lower lip. “And you’re mine.”

“Always,” he said. He laced his fingers with hers and pinned her hands to the mattress. She cried out as he entered her, and as they kissed, their tongues mimicking the movement of their bodies, she reached another level of bliss she didn’t even know was possible.

His name tumbled from her lips as she came apart again, and his orgasm followed on the heels of hers. Then they fell onto the mattress, a mess of sweaty, tangled limbs.

Vince wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. He swept her hair aside, kissed the back of her neck, and whispered, “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

As Cassie blinked away the haze of sleep, last night’s events came rushing back. The sniper, the running, and then…

Vince. The sex—calling it amazing didn’t even do it justice—and his promise to keep her safe.

Sometime in the night they’d shifted, and her head was now on his chest, which she decided was the most comfortable pillow ever. In fact, she was never bothering with the less superior feather or cotton versions again. She felt cemented to his body, and she hesitated to leave his warmth behind.

But then her stomach growled, reminding her she’d gotten distracted with other, more delicious things before they could eat any of the snacks she’d bought.

With the sheet tucked around her breasts, she pushed herself off Vince and stared down at him. The hot dark whiskers, strong jawline, and broken slope of his nose… He was so perfectly peaceful in sleep, all that testosterone resting just under the surface. Honestly, she couldn’t believe he was hers, even with the added craziness being with him brought.

Of course, some of the craziness was from her being in the wrong place at the very wrong time.

Last night she had nightmares about the murder in the alley—saw the guy begging in vain for his life, his body crumpling to the ground, the misshapen skull and dead eyes. With that memory rising up to haunt her, she kind of wished she could go back to not remembering.

A quick shake of her head didn’t completely dislodge those thoughts, but it helped. She threw back the covers and scooted toward the edge of the bed. An arm shot out, wrapped around her waist, and then Vince hauled her back to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Shower, then food.” She glanced over her shoulder—his eyes weren’t even open. He must be part ninja. “How do you feel this morning?”

He grunted.

“So like your girlfriend stabbed you in the gut?”

He cracked one eye open. “She and I have a complicated relationship,” he said, and a slow smile spread across his face. “But we’re working it out.”

He kissed her shoulder and slid his hand over her hip, dipping lower and lower. At the stroke of his capable fingertips, a jolt of pleasure shot through her core, and she melted against him. “Want company in the shower?” he asked, stroking her again.

The ability to speak left her, so she nodded. He stood, fully naked and obviously ready for action, then scooped her off the bed and carried her into the shower. Thoughts of their dangerous situation tried to push forward and remind her they weren’t simply on some kind of fun couples retreat. That they didn’t have a lot of time and should probably—

Vince backed her up against the shower wall and kissed her, his hardness nudging her slick, ready entrance. He reached over and turned on the hot water, and as the steam enveloped them, she closed her eyes and let Vince take her away to a place where everything was perfect and danger didn’t exist.

***

“The food was a good call,” Vince said as he polished off another muffin. “Not nearly as good as yours, but we’ll find you a place with a nice kitchen and get you back in business as soon as possible.” He wadded the wrapper, tossed it in the trash, and gathered what little they’d unpacked and shoved it into his duffel bag. “I’m thinking we head down through West Virginia today, unless there’s another route you’d prefer?”

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