All because of one shot too many of tequila. Or something in the warm and humid, New Orleans air. Or…damned if she knew what had provided the impetus. The end result was she couldn’t forget their kiss. Compelled by a rare moment of sentiment, she’d even written a note with his Christmas gift that told him what she thought of it. The note and the gift were wrapped and waiting for their return to headquarters, after the job. Now that a few days had passed, she was reconsidering the gift and what she’d written, and re-written.
No way am I going headfirst into the land of feelings. Ever.
She’d redo his gift when they got home. She had a backup present that wasn’t nearly as special or sappy. And, for-the-love-of-God, she didn’t need to say a thing about their accidental kiss in a note.
The bathroom doorknob clicked. The vanity where she stood was on the opposite side of the spacious bedroom. Glancing into the large mirror, over her shoulder, she saw steam seep into the bedroom through the crack in the door. “Are you decent?”
The formality in his question was just another indication that they’d both donned invisible costumes of politeness after stepping out of the pedicab, which they hadn’t yet removed. Pre-Halloween Ace would have charged through the door, treating her…like a guy.
“Give me a second.”
Ever since that night, she’d been waiting for the inevitable conversation. Especially since their job briefing in Denver, she’d known it would be coming soon. Like winter’s first snow did to fall, the conversation they needed to have was going to change the friendship that, after work, was the most important thing in her life. The shift their words would make in their friendship…scared her.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
If he stepped out now, he’d have a view of her butt cheeks and the black lace thong that covered absolutely nothing at all. Taking a breath, she reached behind her hips, and tried to pull up the zipper.
He opened the door, glanced her way as the front of the dress fell forward, then quickly turned towards the bed, averting his eyes. “Damn. You could’ve said no. Not dressed.”
“I did.”
“No. You said give me a second. I gave you two.” Evidently not sharing her problems with modesty, he wore a towel around his hips. He strode across the room to the bed. Without glancing her way, he slipped on a pair of briefs, then let the towel fall to the floor as he reached for his tuxedo pants. Pulling them on with ease that inspired hatred in her, he asked, “Want help?”
“No. Go back in the bathroom.” She gestured with her head to the bathroom door. “Come on. Take your clothes and go. Finish getting dressed in there.”
“Seriously?” Through the mirror, she could see he was poised. Still. His eyes met hers, puzzled.
“Come on, Ace. I’m modest—”
“Nah. There isn’t a modest bone in your body, and don’t say my name. We’re undercover.” He’d slipped into serious team leader mode. “If you slip in private, you’ll slip in public.”
She nodded, because he was correct and she should listen to him. With the rigorous training that came with preparation for field jobs, agents tended to develop a certain amount of bravado that blurred the hierarchal lines of a job when bullets weren’t flying. Facts were the facts. Technically, as second-in-command, Ace was her superior.
“Okay, Zack. My dear fiancée, I’m trying not to show you my boobs and ass while this zipper malfunctions.”
She caught the beginning of a smirk as it played at his lips. His blond hair was darkened by dampness and slicked back, making the cobalt-blue of his eyes all the more noticeable.
“Okay, so maybe it’s not a malfunction. Maybe it’s my recent binge on foods that start with P. Hey. Maybe that’ll be one of my New Year’s resolutions. No P foods.”
“You wouldn’t make it a week. No pizza. Pasta. French fries—”
“No fair. French fries start with F. Tater tots start with T.”
He laughed and, maintaining eye contact with her through the mirror, he gave her a slow headshake. Laughing wasn’t something he normally did, and if she was honest with herself, she realized that ever since she’d met him, she’d done things to provoke a chuckle. As though she was in first grade, and his laughter was a gold star by her name, his laughter made her feel the warm glow of accomplishment. “For a year? No P foods. No cheating. I’ll put money that you can’t do it.”
She shrugged, and the dress slipped further down her body. She didn’t break eye contact with him as she yanked it up and muttered, “New Year’s resolutions are supposed to be a challenge.”
He ran his fingers through his damp hair, styling it to effortless perfection that became even more perfect as he gave her a firm headshake. “You can’t do it. You downed a two-pound bag of peanut M &M’s on the last leg of the flight. Without sharing.”
“Liar! You ate at least half the bag while I was sleeping.” And I still need to get this damn dress zipped. “Go in the bathroom. I either need to make this work, without you watching, or I need to put on tomorrow night’s dress.”
He sat on the edge of the king size bed. Pants on. Zipped, but unbuttoned. Taut skin rippled over sleek abdominal muscles. He didn’t even have an inch to pinch where his belly hit the waistline of his pants. His chest was ripped with more muscles than should be allowed on one man. Why his physique was now as much an eye-grabbing wonder as the Grand Canyon, when she’d been blind to it for two years, was officially a problem. One she didn’t know how to resolve.
From across the room, the mirror’s reflection conveyed his shift from light joking to serious intensity. He wasn’t looking at her boobs or her butt. He simply used the mirror to gaze into her eyes.
“Maybe you could get dressed and go to the Compass Rose,” she said. “It seems in keeping with our legends that you’d have a drink in the bar while I’m getting ready. Or go back to the casino.”
“Nah. Stills remains in position in the casino. I checked in with him when I stepped out of the shower. He’s reporting that most guests are in their rooms, getting ready for the event. Our position here is optimal, until eight. It gives us a better spread around the ship. I also checked in with the other agents and Ragno. Everything’s quiet. So I thought…”
As his words trailed, she realized his tone had shifted to something less businesslike. The look in his eyes was far different than the cool, practiced look of equanimity that he, and most Black Raven agents, employed on a job. “I’ve muted my audio line. Thought you and I could finally talk for a few minutes.”
Frozen in place, she could only stare at the person she knew to be hard-as-nails. He’d transformed into someone whose normally matter-of-fact tone actually reflected the thoughtfulness that she’d learned was his true nature. His expression now carried feelings from deep within, and it was riveting. “Women usually put on that sort of dress after their hair is dry and their makeup’s on. The fact that you’re doing it ass-backwards tells me you’re feeling just as awkward as me.”
Trying to keep her cool, she resorted to the light tone that typically went with their ‘back-at-ya’ banter. “So you’re an expert on female dressing?”
With a shrug of broad, bare shoulders, he gave her a slow nod. “I’m thirty-nine.”
“I’m twenty-eight.” She squirmed and made about a quarter inch of zipper progress. “That doesn’t mean I know how to tie a bow tie.”
“I’ve been around in some pre-party dressing. Plus, don’t forget, I have four sisters.” He stood, crossed the room, stepped into the bathroom, and pulled a robe off a hook. Walking towards her, he held it out to her. He stopped a few inches behind her, looking into her eyes through her reflection in the vanity mirror. “Either let me zip the dress or put this on over it. It’s taken me a long while to come to my senses. Now that I have, I don’t feel like wasting time. I don’t want how I handle this to become yet another regret in my life.”
She gave up on banter and went for honesty. “You’re scaring me.”
He chuckled,
but the gravity in his eyes didn’t disappear. “Nothing scares you. Some things should, but not this. We have to talk about that pedicab ride.”
She tried to force a perplexed expression. She gave up on zipping the dress, and reached for the front of it, covering her chest. “What do you mean?”
“The fact that it’s taken us fifty-two days to talk about it speaks volumes.”
“Oh! You mean in New Orleans, on Halloween?”
“Nice try. Your effort at surprise proves you didn’t forget. Besides, it’s the only time we were ever in a pedicab together.”
“I made a great Trinity, didn’t I?”
“Not talking about our costumes. I’m talking about what prompted us to share the best kiss I’ve ever had. Don’t say it was the tequila. You hold liquor better than me, and I remember every second of it. I remember how badly I wanted that kiss. Remember how you kissed me back, too.”
Frozen in place, looking into his eyes through the reflection in the mirror, the almost-irresistible allure of a different world called her. Yet an insistent, suddenly certain voice, told her not to go there.
It will never work, and it will destroy our friendship.
“It was a locality issue.” Careful to keep her voice casual, she tried to maintain a nonchalant look. “People do crazy things in New Orleans. They blame things that happen there on the humidity. It was really steamy that night.”
His eyes became even more serious. “No.”
Sparkling, fresh hope sent a chill down her spine, the kind she hadn’t dared to dream since she was impossibly young, before her father was killed. Before she’d become compelled to fight evil, especially the kind that struck innocent victims as they were going through their daily lives.
Shake it off. Fooling around with a co-worker is a stupid idea. A career-limiting move. Not even Ace.
Especially not Ace.
He jiggled the robe. “You putting this on?”
She turned to him. A few inches from her, his bare skin exuded the delicious scent of freshly-showered maleness. Momentarily letting go of the dress with her left hand, she pushed the heel of her palm into his chest. He stepped back an inch.
“Okay. I won’t crowd you, but we need to talk.”
“Even talking about it is a big mistake. Let’s forget it ever happened. It’s a dead end.”
“Don’t say that. I’m not letting you cross the finish line before the race is even started.” Voice deadly serious, his gaze held hers. Intent. Focused. Determined. Not a trace of a smile on his lips.
“It won’t work. Besides, it was just a kiss—”
“It was more than a kiss. You know that. That’s why you’re having such a hard time with it.”
“It shouldn’t have happened. We’re great friends, but that’s all.”
“There’s a reason we’re such good friends.”
“Perhaps because you, unlike most other guys, have never tried to get in my pants. So—” She drew a breath. “Don’t start now.”
She tried not to see the turmoil in his eyes as he ran his hand through his still-damp hair. Under his coolness, there was a tentativeness that signaled raw feelings. The look made her heart twist, because the truth was, she’d fallen hard for him the minute she met him. Pre-Halloween, there had been times when she’d wondered if he’d ever make a move towards something more intimate. But now, she realized there were far more reasons why they shouldn’t go there than reasons why they should.
“I wouldn’t do anything that’s not mutual.” He folded his arms over his chest, still clutching the robe.
“But you’ve never even flirted with me. What we have is like a bromance.”
“Yeah. That’s what makes it great, but you’re not a bro. That leaves us with a romance.”
“Seriously?”
“This best friend routine we’ve got going might be the best flirting anyone’s ever done. Because we both have a few—,” He paused as a shadow drifted over his eyes. “—issues, we didn’t recognize it.”
“I’m having a hard time here. When, exactly, did things change for you?”
“Maybe the desire has always been there. When we first met I was too messed up to go there. After Kat died, I didn’t even think about sex for two years. Since then, I’ve mostly had one-night stands. Nothing lasting.”
She’d always wondered, but their sexual habits were one of the few things they’d never talked about. “Perhaps that’s too much info. Maybe we should keep our sex lives to ourselves.”
“Nah. There are some things I need to tell you. See, the odd thing, now that I think about it, is that you’re the person I want to talk to the most, after I’ve had sex, and…even before. I’m usually looking for a text from you as soon as I’m out the door. You want to know when I realized what all of this means? When I finally figured out what to tell you? About an hour ago. In the casino. As I stood next to you, and all you did was laugh.”
Her mind reeled at his honesty. “It might take me a while to catch up. I might never.”
“We’ve both lost enough in our lives to know that there’s no guarantee we’ll be here for a long time. Tomorrow isn’t a certainty. I’m not banking on it. I know you’re not, either.” His gaze, deadly serious, conveyed the gravity of his words. “Let’s not waste the time we have.”
“We’re friends. Best friends. That has to be good enough, even if we only have today.”
As her firm statement registered, Leo watched pain filter into his eyes. His pain stole a few of her heartbeats, while she realized that she’d be disappointed if she lost the promise of…more. If she was truthful with herself, having more of him had been an elusive hope, ever since she met him.
He gave her a slow headshake and the beginning of a smile. “Being best friends might be good enough for some people, but I don’t do good enough. Neither do you.”
He dropped the robe to the floor, then reached out and traced a line with the tip of his index finger along her collarbone, to her neck, up to her jaw. He lifted her face so that her gaze locked on his. “I’m dying to kiss you again.”
“I’m not Kat,” she blurted, worried that the sea change she was witnessing in him was the product of a flashback. To her knowledge, he hadn’t had one in a while, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t having one now. “I won’t be a substitute for her.”
“I know. Losing her was awful. The horror of it could be why it’s taken me so long to realize how I really feel about you.” Every nerve in her body felt the force of his lips, as he touched them to her ear. “Please know that I’ll never project anything that happened with Kat onto you. It all belongs in a different world now. My past.”
He sounded so convincing, she believed him. Yet that didn’t solve all of their problems. Drawing upon willpower, she said, “Black Raven Rule 6.9, in the section governing agent dynamics, says—”
He lifted his finger to her lower lip. “Shhhh. I know what it says.”
“Two agents—as in you and me—can’t be involved. No intimate relationships. No sexual relations. Friendly camaraderie only. That rule is explicit.”
He held her gaze for a long second. “Forget that we’re agents. Imagine a world where we can have what we want. Then let’s decide if it’s worth working for.”
God, but every molecule in her body wanted to go along with the fantasy he was spinning. Instead, she shook her head. “Imagine? Come on. This isn’t Disney. The casino atmosphere’s getting to you. It must be the extra oxygen they pump into the air. Rules exist for good reason. Priorities become reordered.”
“Maybe they should be. For both of us.” Blue eyes held hers, before he bent to press his lips against the corner of hers, sending sizzling heat throughout her body. “Want me to stop?”
Panic welled in her gut, as did desire. There were some things about her that even Ace didn’t know, and she didn’t feel like having a conversation about the one thing, in particular, that was weighing heavy on her mind. Besides, her sexual status should be ir
relevant. Because they shouldn’t go there. “Yes.”
He drew a breath and moved his lips away.
“Maybe we’re imagining that our kiss was better than it was,” she said.
He gave her his typical, lopsided smile. More of a smirk than a smile, the left side of his mouth went a little higher than the right. “What do you say we find out if it feels like we’re kissing cardboard? You make the call. If it does, I’ll stop.”
With the beginning of her nod, he groaned as he pressed his mouth to hers again, pulling her in closer. Opening her lips with the force of his kiss, his tongue glided over hers. She forgot about holding up the dress. It fell to the floor as she lifted her arms over his shoulders. Just as in the pedicab, the world disappeared as she tasted him and felt his fingers thread through her hair.
She sighed and leaned into him. “Damn. Not cardboard.”
Without breaking their kiss, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He put her down, then stretched out alongside her. Their kiss, deep and glorious and way better than she remembered, lasted a lifetime.
Or maybe just minutes.
“Better than I remember,” he mumbled, unhooking her bra, letting it fall away. His fingers on her nipples sparked a fire that sizzled in wild streaks, throughout her body, all the way to her toes.
“Oh,” she whispered, inexplicably shivering despite the burning heat. “Feels great.”
“Yeah,” he said, replacing his fingers with his mouth. “You. Are. Perfect.”
With his tongue, he traced lazy circles around her nipples, while his hands drifted down, blazing a trail along her abdomen, until his fingers stroked the soft skin of her inner thighs.
He slid his fingers under the narrow strip of her thong panties, into the dampness that was a sure sign of how badly she wanted him. She sighed in relief, but managed to say, “We really, really shouldn’t…”
Imagine (Black Raven Book 4) Page 6