Page 61 of When He Defends
He shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Any other guests slated to pay you a visit?”
Again, Gray shook his head.
“Good.” A long exhale. “Then how about we pick up where we left off?” She pushed down the covers to reveal that, hell, yes, she was completely bare.
And she was about to be completely his.
Chapter Twelve
“What do I think of my new partner? Agent Stone is intense, driven, and calculated. He would make for one very dangerous enemy.” – Emerson Marlowe, on day one of her partnership with Gray Stone
He should have control.
He should seduce. He should tempt. He should caress every single inch of her. Treat her like a queen.
Not pounce on her like?—
Like I want to do.
He was screwed. Gray shook his head.
Her hand tightened on the cover she’d just dropped. “Gray? Is there a problem?”
His dick shoved against the front of his pants. “Yeah.”
“I-I thought you wanted me.”
“That is not our problem. Will never be our problem.” Not in a million years.
Her tongue skated across her lower lip. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Trying not to pounce.”
She leaned forward. Her beautiful breasts did the best jiggle in the entire world. “Why not? I would love for you to pounce. Consider this your pouncing all clear.”
Fuck.“Be careful what you wish for.”
“Why? I’ve been wishing for you since the first day we became partners. Seems to be working out so far.”
He was her wish? Seriously? In what screwed-up universe? “Try to remember you said that.” A nod. Then he began to unbutton his shirt.
Her gaze fell to his chest. Her eyes widened. That cute, little pink tongue of hers came out again. Her nipples were hard. Tight. He wanted them in his mouth. Wanted his mouth back between her legs as she cried out for him and pleasure made her whole body tremble.
He’d like more of that, hell, yes.
He popped a button off the shirt in his haste.
She gasped. Her eyes rose to lock with his. Her lips curved into the faintest grin. “Oh, no. Not your fancy shirt. You lost a button. However will you recover?”
He threw the shirt. Kicked out of his shoes and ditched his dress socks. “Emerson, don’t make me spank you.”
“Why not? Could be fun.”
Everything stopped. Every fucking thing. She was teasing him. Flirting. Playing.
He wasn’t. “You should…be careful.” A gritted warning.
