Page 120 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
Fuck. The temptation is winning out.
I should push her off, maintain some control over this situation. We have a briefing to get to, evidence to examine, a fucking murderer to catch. But her skin is warm under my touch, and the way she's looking at me—eyes dark with desire, that little smirk on her lips—is making it impossible to think straight.
Professional boundaries are crumbling fast, and the scary part is I don't give a damn. The Ghost, always in control, always three steps ahead—reduced to this raw, desperate hunger by a journalist with a death wish andsmart mouth.
Alina's gaze drifts to my side, where the bruise from the bullet impact still marks my skin. Her teeth worry at her lower lip, concern clouding her features.
"Hey," I say softly, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I'm fine. It looks worse than it feels."
She leans into my touch, but the worry doesn't leave her eyes. "Are you sure? That bruise looks nasty."
I nod, my thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I've had worse. But if it'll make you feel better, I'll have Remy take a look when we get to headquarters."
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly at my words. She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips and the scent of her ski envelops me.
"Thank you," she murmurs against my mouth.
I deepen the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair. For a moment, I let myself forget about Damian's intrusion, about the looming threat of Steele, about all the complications waiting for us outside this room. Right now, it's just Alina and me, wrapped in the cocoon of rumpled sheets and morning light.
But reality intrudes, as it always does. With a sigh, I break the kiss.
"We really should get going," I say, even as every fiber of my being wants to stay right here.
"You're right," she agrees, but makes no move to get up. Instead, she leans down, her lips brushing against mine again. "But maybe we can spare a few more minutes?"
My resolve crumbles embarrassingly fast. I pull her closer, deepening the kiss.
Maybe being a little late might not be such a bad thing after all.
I can't keep my hands off her. Her skin is soft under my fingertips, her lips hungry against mine. all thoughts of getting ready forgotten.
"We're going to be so late," Alina gasps between kisses.
I trail my lips down her neck. "Worth it."
Time blurs as we lose ourselves in each other again. And again. The urgency of our mission fades away, replaced by the burning need to be as close as possible.
Finally, we drag ourselves out of bed. I watch Alina as she gets dressed, admiring the graceful lines of her body. When she bends to retrieve her underwear, I can't resist landing a playful smack on her rear.
She jumps, a small hiss escaping her lips as she straightens. "Still tender from last night," she murmurs, shooting me a look that's half warning, half invitation.
I smirk, satisfaction warming my chest. I step closer, gently running my palm over the spot I'd just smacked. "Good. A little reminder of who you belong to when I'm not around."
Her breath catches, pupils dilating even as she rolls her eyes. "Possessive much?"
"Always," I confirm, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Especially with you."
We're both grinning as we leave the penthouse, our fingers intertwined. The ride to CPG headquarters is a blur of stolen glances and lingering touches. Alina shifts in her seat occasionally, the subtle wincing reminding us both of our night together.
As we walk into the command center two hours late, I'm acutely aware of every eye on us. Damian and Jax exchange knowing looks.
"Finally," Damian says, his voice tinged with humor.
I keep my expression neutral. "We had some things to discuss."
Jax snorts, eyes bright with barely contained energy.
"Is that what they're calling it these days?" His fingers tap a rapid rhythm against the console.
