Page 51 of Love Undercover
Not when she let her mind wander to watching him pummel the living daylights out of that punching bag. The obstacle course in the backyard revealed just how he’d developed those very chiseled muscles she’d found herself admiring the day before. The washboard abs were the most surprising part. Something she’d only ever seen on actors and fitness models, not in real life.
And then the way they’d felt under her hands was. . . mind-blowing. A total out-of-body experience. Which contributed to the insane way she’d reacted to him in that moment, though she really couldn’t account for it logically. She couldn’t even blame it on her impulsivity.
Maybe it was that fiery passion she’d read in his eyes. But no, she knew there was more to it than that. A history of connection, an instant and inexplicable attraction. And she couldn’t deny that his admission of anger at what had happened earlier that day contributed to a renewed pull she felt toward him.
She walked around the edge of the counter, stopping at her purse to dig around for her Active Skin Repair spray bottle while he adjusted whatever he’d packed and worked on the zippers.
Once she found what she was looking for, she headed his way, pulling his attention from what he was doing.
He grew very still, attuned to her movements as he tracked her progress. That strain from earlier was gone, but a different kind of tension held his body rigid. Almost like he was anticipating something he wasn’t sure he was ready for.
“Now I can take care of these.” She trailed her fingers just below his knuckles, the torn skin reminding her what his hands were capable of—destruction as well as tenderness.
She wasn’t sure what prompted her to do it, but she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles gently. To acknowledge what those hands had done to her and for her.
His intake of breath was sharp, and she looked up, afraid that what she’d done wasn’t okay. Something in his expression told her that even though he was surprised, it wasn’t unwelcome. His lips parted, a wonder shining in his eyes that triggered more of the impulses that always rolled through her in unending waves.
She wanted to push onto her toes, plant her hand on his chest, and dive into his kiss again. The greed with which he’d tasted her lips before stirred the wildfire of desire in her. He seemed to sense it, the need that sang in her blood calling to him. His other hand—the one she wasn’t holding onto—slid to cup the back of her neck.
Tilting her face toward his, her body hummed with anticipation. She could hardly stand it as he hesitated, searching her face. For what, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to wait any longer. She lurched upward to let her mouth crash against his, dropping the hand she’d still held.
Once released, that arm snaked around her waist, bringing her fully against him, and she almost groaned when every soft bit ofher collided with every hard edge of him. This kiss was different than before, not the frenzied consumption of that first time. He was slow and deliberate, drinking deeply, savoring, memorizing. With their bodies connected, their lips moving in an enticing pattern, her blood ignited.
A growl rumbled in his chest. The demand that roared between them had him spinning her and backing her up until she bumped the wall. His body pressed harder into hers, trapping her.
And she loved it. Relished the reaction, the intensity, the way her own body responded to the feel of him.
But he pulled back abruptly, exhaling unsteadily against her mouth, and she felt the shudder go through his entire body, the spooling tension winding tighter as he fought himself. But she didn’t want him to. She didn’t want to fight herself, either.
“You’re killing me, Sadie,” he whispered roughly, his breath fanning across her face.
He was killing her too, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t get the words past her lips when his hands had inched up from her hips, under her shirt. His fingers teased along the skin of her stomach like they had a mind of their own, had not heard his jagged words.
She dove in for another kiss, letting her tongue dance with his for another moment before he broke away completely from her demanding mouth and body, severing the connection between them as he turned away to run his hands through his hair.
He groaned, the sound dark, tortured, and laden with want. “We have to stop.”
It was an effort to lock herself down, though she knew it was the better decision. But she wasn’t always the best at the better decisions. She was good at diving in headfirst without knowing how far down the bottom was.
“Okay,” she said, regret and rejection shooting through her in waves, burning embarrassment into her cheeks.
He turned back, maybe hearing it in her voice. “Please,” he said, stepping back to brush the hair away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
She shook her head and forced a smile. “It’s fine. I get it.”
“I want. . .” He shut his eyes, bracing himself with his hands on the wall, bracketing her on either side. “I want this—you—so badly, but. . .”
He tensed like he was startled by that confession and dropped his head. It didn’t make sense why at first. But she was coming to realize the hard-won admissions and honest confessions were against his nature to share. It made sense, given his job. She couldn’t imagine how scary it would be to have any vulnerability in a world like the one he had to operate in. But he felt different around her, right?
Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe she was a new kind of vulnerability, a liability he couldn’t afford. But she wanted to hope that she was also his road out. He’d said that if he could get his hands on the information Greg had, he could bring the whole thing down. She already knew Greg’s role in all of it, but what was Chase’s? And how did he get here? Would he even want out if he had the choice?
The need to know, to understand why he was on this career path was a pressure against her mind. And Lord knew she needed something—anything—to distract her from the lust that was wreaking havoc on her system.
“Chase.”
He lifted cautious eyes to hers, but she had a hard time holding his gaze.
“How did you get into this line of work?”
