Page 82 of The San Marco Heist

We’d brought Malcolm on board for this mission because we were two down—Emmett and Zac. The truth was, we’d been one down before that. One down for the last two years, in a position we filled with a string of faceless contractors who didn’t fit with the team. Malcolm barely fit, but somehow he did.

His big hand circled my waist, and he pulled me so close I felt his breath on my lips. “That wasn’t the answer I was looking for.”

Kissing him in the light well had been easy. It was the job. Until suddenly, it wasn’t. The two of us sitting on my team’s plane, no one watching us, no recording devices, no sneaking around—could it be as easy?

I still had two shirts left.

Noah would have wanted me to be happy and move on with my life. Not sit around for two years using him as an excuse.

There was no sign of hesitation or doubt in those beautiful blue eyes. All I saw was the same desire burning within him that was inside me. My heart raced at the thought of finally giving in to the attraction that had been simmering between us for too long.

I brushed my fingers over the side of his head, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled him to me. Our lips met and his grip around my waist grew tighter as his tongue plunged into my mouth. His other hand gripped the side of my neck as he ravaged my mouth.

It was real. It wasn’t a job. He didn’t need anything from me except—I shuddered. Except me. I threw my other arm around his back, and he jolted. Fuck. His bruises. “Sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled closer. He kissed me again, deeper, hungrier.

I pressed my body against him, lifting my leg until the pain screamed up it again and I stiffened. “Shit. My leg.”

He sprang up from the divan, brow creased with concern. “I’ll get Rav.”

“No.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him down next to me. “We’re both hurt. And I’m still not made of porcelain.”

“What do you need?”

What was holding me back? I knew what I wanted. I wanted Malcolm. For one night, two nights, maybe a week. Get him out of my system and maybe go back to the real world. Throw those two shirts out, take down the last photo of me and Noah, and find a nice man who didn’t mind how much I traveled.

I swallowed hard. “Scarlett.”

He twisted his head, as though he hadn’t heard what I’d said. “You need yourself?”

My body sank against the pillows and I stared up at the ceiling, laughing at how my command of the English language was failing me. “The one that wants you. That’s me.”

“That was a better answer.” He braced a hand on the back of the divan and loomed over me. “Now tell me, what do you like?”

“What do you think I like?”

“I know you liked that kiss in the light well, no matter what you said after.”

What level of physicality was latching my leg around his ass? Or the hard-on he’d pressed against me? “I wasn’t the only one.”

“You weren’t.”

“You were hard for me, Malcolm. I liked that, too.”

He lowered himself, running a trail of kisses down my neck. “You seem like a woman who wants to be in control all the time. Wants a man who’ll focus on what you already know gives you pleasure.”

My breasts heaved as his lips continued to the hollow of my throat and along the V-neck of my sweater.

“I think you paint a pretty picture for the world and part of you is begging to let it all go. To surrender.”

Surrender? More like escape. Let someone else take the risks and be in charge. Skip on getting the kudos and taking the blame. It was exactly what I wanted. But I couldn’t say it—I’d dropped too many barriers around him already. “Or you’re so cocky you assume the behavior you crave in a woman is exactly what they all want.”

“And yet, here you are…” His fingers ghosted over the curve of my breast, and I arched into his touch. “Letting go so I can take over.”

“Doesn’t that mean I’m still technically in control?”

He lifted his head to smirk at me. “Permission to skip level six and the knee to my groin, boss?”

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