Page 12 of Killer Secrets (Tempting SEALs 5)

"I swear on my uncle's bank account. Business. Just business. Now get me off, dammit." She tried to writhe beneath him, tried to go that last little sensation into orgasm without his help.

"Goddamn you!"

Before Kira could react his fingers had slid from her body, jerked from beneath her pants, and he was jackknifing from the bed to glare at her as he stood over her.

And there she lay, panting, her nipples standing as straight and tall as the imperial guard and her vagina still gushing with need.

"Tease!" She rolled to the other side of the bed, sat on the edge, and jerked her boots off first, then tugged her pants from her legs.

Clad in nothing but a white silk thong, she jerked the bronze silk robe from the chair by the bed and shrugged it on as she turned to face him.

"You know, Ian, this habit you have of leaving me a second before I get off is becoming annoying."

"Your habit of poking your nose into my business could become dangerous," he snapped, fury contorting his expression. But lust gleamed thick and bright in his eyes.

Kira pushed her fingers through her tangled hair, shook it out, and cast him a mocking look from beneath her lashes.

"Oh really, Ian," she drawled then. "You brought your business to me, remember? The night you slipped into my condo and crawled that tight ass of yours into my bed during that op in Atlanta. Don't start crying foul now. You're just pissed off because you finally met a woman unwilling to play the ready-and-willing submissive. Speaking of those, didn't you ever get bored?"

His lips thinned and she swore that muscle jumping in his jaw was going to tear right out of the tightly stretched flesh of his cheek.

Damn, he was a tad upset.

Poor baby.

"What kind of deal is Homeland Security running here, Kira? Don't fuck with me. Not now. Mess in my business here and I might have to kill you."

And damn if he didn't sound as though he meant it. He was almost believable. Maybe. If she were on mind-altering drugs, she thought with a sniff.

"The big bad cartel leader now, are you?" She tossed her head back and let a low, seductive laugh whisper from her throat. "Come on, Ian, you enjoy the game too much to kill me. Besides." She moved closer to him, ran a finger down his heaving chest, and whispered the words that she knew had the potential to rock his little world. "Why would they run an op against their favorite bad boy spy?"

It was a guess, nothing more. A supposition. A hope, but the reaction was far more than she anticipated.

The change was frightening. The lust in his eyes was instantly replaced with icy fury. His expression tightened further, the harsh planes and angles of his face cast into savage relief a second before he grabbed her.

Between one breath and the next Kira found herself, arms locked behind her back, her back to his chest, and his powerful arm braced around her neck as his lips lowered to her ear.

"Get out of Aruba, and take your accusations with you. Get as far away from me as possible or I'll fuck you until you're dying from the orgasms. And once I've had my fill of you, I'll break your pretty neck."

His arm tightened around her neck for emphasis as his hard, corded body vibrated with tension against her. She should have felt at least a frisson of fear. She assumed that was the point behind the hold on her. It wasn't painful, but it reminded her to the very core of her being that he was broader, stronger, and a hell of a lot more experienced in violence than she was.

She didn't try to break loose. She knew better. For every move she had, Ian had one to counter it. Instead, she relaxed into the embrace, became soft and pliant, aware that he only tensed further behind her.

"Go ahead, Ian," she said softly. "Kill me. If you can."

HE COULDN'T.

Ian stared down at her face, felt her body relax into him, and felt like a drowning man. Only it was soft, willing woman he was drowning in. The scent and feel of the one woman he had learned was a weakness he could ill afford.

"You're playing a very dangerous game," he whispered against the soft silk of her hair as he felt her ass flex against the hard length of his cock.

Her unique, pretty little ears were at his lips, the little slant and soft curve of the lobe tempting his lips.

His dick was throbbing, aching. Just the thought of her could do this to him, make him crazy to fuck her, to hold her to him and bury himself inside her.

Luck had been on his side in Atlanta eight months before. There hadn't been the time or the opportunity to take her, and each time he'd managed to get his hands on her there had been an interruption.

There would be no interruptions now, the wild side of his brain reminded him with frantic lust. He could push her against the wall, bury himself inside the hot grip of her pussy, and find the relief he needed with teeth-clenching desperation.

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