Page 65 of Hot Pursuit
And just like that, they collided. No more slow. No more calm. Urgent and hungry, throwing caution to the wind, letting the wild spark that had always simmered between them take over. Their kisses were demanding and rough. He clasped the back of her head, fingers digging into her updo, tugging bobby pins loose with the perfect sort of pain, until all her hair tumbled free. Jo undid the buckle on his belt and pushed his pants to the floor before dipping her fingers beneath the elastic band at his waist. With a groan, Nate grabbed her hands and stumbled forward, until her back hit a wall and he pinned her to it, bodies so tight there wasn’t an ounce of air between them. He held her hands above her head with one of his, taking charge, taking over, as his lips tasted every inch of her skin, starting from her neck, working their way over the peak of one breast, down her stomach, farther and farther until she gasped for air.
He grabbed her by the thighs and lifted her into the air. Beneath her palms, his biceps flexed, strong and more than capable as he carried her to the bed. They sank slowly down, eyes locked the entire time he pressed her spine into the mattress, then settled his weight on her. Jo went for his waistband again, but Nate grabbed her wrists and held them against the pillow as his free hand dipped beneath the band of her bra, exploring her supple curves, a clear destination in mind, as though he’d spent a lot of time mapping his route and nothing, not even Jo, could steer him off course. His palm sank farther, and the protest died on her lips as bright lights flashed behind her closed eyes. A sigh slipped out instead.
Clearly, Nate had rules for the bedroom too.
Though as his lips dipped to find the spot his hand just vacated, Jo decided she didn’t mind these rules.
No…she didn’t mind these rules at all.
- 22 -
Nate
Nate didn’t think he would ever tire of touching her, running his hands along her curves, connecting the dots between her freckles, marveling at the silky softness, so perfectly feminine compared to his rough hands and hard edges. Jo was sprawled across his chest, her chin resting on her hands, which were folded over his heart. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back, splashing over his abs, a gossamer curtain framing her lovely face. His left arm wrapped around her torso, holding her close, fingers continuing to explore because he couldn’t physically force them to stop. His right arm was folded beneath his head like a pillow, holding his eyes at the perfect angle to study the woman casually displayed before him.
He tried to focus on what she was saying, but the more he studied the plump arc of her lips, the more his mind went to other activities, activities they’d already done twice already, but his body seemed to want more. And Nate wasn’t exactly complaining about that…
“Nate. Nathaniel. Nate!”
“Huh?” He blinked.
Jo grinned, arching a brow. “You’re insatiable.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re just irresistible.”
“Well, I am that,” she teased, smile deepening. But her head dropped to the side with sleepiness as a yawn interrupted her taunt. “I was asking what you’ll be assigned to next. Will you be able to stick around for a while? Or will you just be gone?”
He didn’t like the hollow sound of her voice as she finished speaking. “I don’t know.”
Jo pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it for a moment as her gaze dropped to his chest, but not fast enough. Disappointment flashed in those green eyes, disappointment and gloom. It wasn’t the first time Nate had seen a similar response to his demanding work, but it was the first time it hit him like a punch to the gut, painful and in need of fixing. If Jo was about to uproot her entire life to help him, to help the bureau, the very least he could do was try to stick around for a while, to be there for her while she adjusted to what would be a whole new world. He held her closer, prompting her to look back up.
“I can talk to Leo, see what he thinks, but we’ve been nonstop for the past few years. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to lie low for a while, put in some time at the office instead of in the field. If we get—” Nate paused, flicking his gaze to the side for a moment and then back. He was going to say,if we get your father to confess, if we nail the Russians,but he didn’t want to mention Carter or Ryder, didn’t want to see more shadows cloud her eyes. “If everything works out, we’ll be doing paperwork for a while to prepare for trial anyway. And by the time that’s done, who knows, you’ll probably be sick of me.”
“Hmm…”
Nate didn’t realize the vulnerability laced through his words until she didn’t immediately contradict them. But his chest pulled tight as his breath hitched with an acute shot of panic.
“I don’t think that’ll happen,” she confessed softly. And then everything in her expression shifted to mischief and mirth, lips curving, brows raising, eyes sparkling. “If anything, you’ll get sick of me. You seem like the type to fold his underwear.”
“What?” Nate blurted, unable to stop himself as the typical Jolene Carter whiplash syndrome hit. A protest stirred on his lips, but he shook his head, because he was, after all, an underwear folder. Well, a boxer-briefs folder to be exact, but that was beside the point. “What does that even mean, Jo?”
She shrugged against his chest. “I’m not an underwear folder, Nate. I’m not really much of a folder at all. I’m a piler. I pile and pile and pile until it starts toppling over and I can’t pile any longer.”
Nate shuddered. The image of his pristine apartment overrun by mounds of clothes, heaps of shoes, strewn without rhyme or reason, without order… “I’ll do the laundry,” he said quickly, dispelling the horrifying picture in his mind. “You do the cooking, and I’ll do the cleaning.”
Jo grinned. “That was easier than I thought it’d be.”
“What?” He arched a brow, studying her, taking in that self-satisfied smirk. “Are you playing me, Jo?”
She opened her eyes and dropped her jaw in mock horror. “Would I do that?”
Yes.
Yes, you would.
“Using my own vices against me,” Nate drawled, shaking his head.
“Cleanliness is a virtue,” she countered.
