by Jo Leigh
* * *
RYAN COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW amazing she tasted, how hard her clit was between his lips as he sucked the nub until Angie was a quivering mess beneath him. Her legs were holding him down, heels digging into his back, but he didn’t care. He doubted she even realized she’d done that. Doubted she could think anymore.
He went back to flicking, fast and hard, then when her thigh muscles tensed he pushed two fingers inside her.
She came like a bottle rocket. He hoped the bungalow had thick walls because she was loud. And gripping his fingers so tightly he could scarcely imagine what it would feel like to bury his cock inside her.
He pulled back, letting her legs fall to the bed and taking her panties down at the same time. For a moment, he simply looked at her. The full body blush, the way her dark hair was wild on the pillow, her breasts with those gorgeous nipples rising and falling with her gasps. She was magnificent naked. Long lines, sleek and defined, and damn how she made his cock pulse as he looked at her beautiful sex. Lips thickened and damp, pink and perfect, and all he wanted to do was give her pleasure. Bring her to the brink over and over again, until she begged him to stop. And when they were both dripping with exhaustion and wrung-out from pleasure, he’d hold her in his arms just to feel her breathing.
With shaky hands, he opened the condom, and carefully sheathed himself. For once, he was grateful for the barrier. He needed the dampening effect because he was one clench away from coming.
He lifted those amazing legs again, kissing her inner thighs as he brought them to his shoulders. She had another aftershock with his lips on her skin, and that was intense all by itself. He’d done that. Given her that.
He had to stretch to get hold of the free pillow, but he was able to tuck it neatly under her, planning to get a much better view of that behind when they weren’t so occupied.
She’d opened her eyes, finally. Dark as night, slightly damp eyelashes that worried him for a moment, but her smile let him know she wasn’t crying. “Oh, my God,” she said. “That was...”
“Only the beginning.”
She rolled her eyes, but not the way she’d ever done it before. “You’re going to kill me.”
“I know the feeling.”
Letting her hips down, he positioned himself, his whole being urging him to thrust now, now, now. “Angie. Look at me.”
She did. She met his gaze, and damn if there weren’t sparks.
“Keep your eyes open,” he said, his voice barely recognizable. He rubbed himself between her lips, groaning at the slickness, then found where he belonged. “As long as you can,” he whispered, needing to watch her right back. To see her come apart.
He pushed forward into the wet heat of her, and every part of him was there, right there where they were joined. Every part but his eyes as he watched her head go back, her mouth open in a silent cry, the perfection of her neck as she arched. For him.
When he was fully in her, he had to stop. No choice. His gasp reminded him to breathe again, his shudder was like that kick the moment before sleep.
He wanted to stay there for as long as she’d have him, but his cock needed friction.
Moving inside her became a symphony, every push building to an inevitable crescendo. Ryan wanted to see her eyes, watch her body, stare at his cock each time part of himself disappeared. As he thrust faster, his world narrowed and there, the pool of heat that signaled the start of it, his balls tightening, his muscles tensing tighter and tighter.
She spasmed around him, her climax squeezing his cock and it was as if all his atoms came apart, a supernova that made him see spots behind his eyelids and sent his heart racing so fast he thought he might just die.
Some time must have passed, though, because he could feel his burning lungs and his aching thighs, and when he looked down, there she was, the light making her skin look golden.
All he wanted to do was fall where he was and do nothing for a week, but instead, he pulled out of her, reluctant to leave then forced himself to climb out of bed to take care of business.
When he came back, she slowly moved her head so she could look at him. “You’re here.”
“I am.”
“I’m glad.”
He grinned. “Me, too.” Then he pulled up the bedding, grabbed the pillow she’d pushed to the side and settled next to her.
She rolled into his arms as if she’d always known the way.
11
“ANGIE.” HER SHOULDER was being tugged, and that needed to stop right now. “Angie, we’re late. We slept through the alarm.” She turned over so quickly she kicked Ryan. “Sorry. What time is it?”
“A quarter to ten.”
“Oh, no.”
Ryan, looking dazed and disheveled said, “Go shower. And leave me some hot water.”
She scrambled to pull her act together, not sparing even a moment to be embarrassed about doing it naked.
Once she was under the spray, she started to relax as she soaped herself, acutely aware that Ryan had touched every inch she covered. Memories of a few hours ago filled her mind’s eye like a really sexy slideshow. He’d caught her off guard so many times it left her breathless. She’d imagined him slick and dangerous, smug with his expertise as he showed her his wicked bag of tricks.
Instead, he’d been almost selfless. Oh, he’d gotten off all right, but his ego had left the building. His focus had been on her. So attuned he anticipated every desire. The memory made her shiver as the hot water cascaded down her back.
She jumped at a loud knock, then Ryan’s panicked voice. “Angie, sorry but we’ve really got to move it.”
“I’ll be right out.” She got busy, his tension sparking her own. They’d never been late before, she’d missed her run, yoga, coffee, dammit, her talk with Liz. And here she’d been off in the clouds daydreaming as if what had happened was one of her fantasies.
She stilled as her happy buzz abruptly went down the drain. As it hit her, exactly what she’d done. God, oh, God. She’d slept with him. She’d said yes. He’d offered to back off, but she’d just pulled him closer, and had the best sex of her life. With Ryan Vail.
Hell, she hadn’t just said yes, she’d thrown away her ethics and reason, and now the memory of him inside her was so vivid she wanted to cry. How could she still want him when it was all so wrong?
Maybe that’s what Liz had been getting at. Having sex with Ryan hadn’t magically changed the fact that they were never going to be a couple. Not even friends with benefits. She knew she wouldn’t pick things up when they went back to the office, and he certainly wouldn’t want to. Maybe that’s why the sex had been so unbelievably hot. Because he was taboo. She worked with him. He was completely the wrong man for her. Of course, it would probably be awkward as hell, but they both deserved that.
Well, they’d done it. Fine. Experiment over. Now she could concentrate solely on the job.
So why did her hand shake as she turned off the water, just because he was right outside the door? A part of her was glad they were late. There’d be no time for stolen glances, mumbled regrets. They had to jump into work. Which they were screwing up by being late.
As soon as she pulled her towel off the rack she realized she hadn’t brought in her clothes. But she didn’t want to leave the bathroom naked. It didn’t matter that he’d already seen her. They were back on the clock. There was a clear line of demarcation, last night to this morning. She wrapped herself tightly in a towel.
He was waiting at the door as she opened it, clothes in his hand, his impatient gaze taking in everything. “I’ll be quick.”
“Should I wait? Go ahead without you?”
“Whatever.” Their gazes met for an instant before he closed the door.
His single word answer made her feel both relieved and terrible. She didn’t like the dip in her tummy that told her she’d been dismissed, but his cool nonchalance was exactly what they needed to find their footing again. They’d have to get into their roles damn quickly
, but they each needed to get grounded in reality before that happened.
As she threw her clothes on, she reminded herself yet again that they only had one job to do. Make the suspects believe Ryan was ripe to be blackmailed. It had already begun with the break-in, but for it to stick, they needed to keep in character, keep to their routines. Be goddamn professional FBI agents.
She wouldn’t put the sting at risk again.
Behind her, Ryan’s shower turned off, and she pulled a brush through her hair. She didn’t even have time to put on makeup, which was one of the central keys to Angie Ebsen.
Great. Just great.
* * *
THE RUSH TO GET TO THE Lavender Room had precluded much talk, for which Ryan was profoundly grateful. Turned out they missed the brief meeting, anyway. Today was their trip to the hot springs, which they’d completely forgotten, because what they’d done in that bed was enough for him to forget his own damn name. They weren’t going just to soak, but to do some sweaty, physical exercises on the bank surrounding the springs, to be followed by comfort and support in the hot water.
They did get their things-to-take list and a colorful tote bag marked with the Intimate At Last logo. He didn’t miss the irony, and he’d be damned if he’d carry that sucker to the bus waiting for them out front.
Sex with Angie hadn’t been surprising. Normally his only concern was that he and his partner both got off, and that the woman didn’t resent his quick departure after the fireworks were over. But with Angie, his orgasm had been more about her pleasure then his own.
He chalked it up to the cumulative effect of pretending to be in love with her combined with the inherent physicality of the masquerade. He’d have to be a damn sight more careful about separating his role from his life. Angie was the first woman in a hell of a long time that he had to see the day after.
With a few minutes to spare, he and Angie had settled in a comfortable bench seat on the minibus. Their thighs touched and she muttered a “sorry” and angled the other way. It made him wince. Would she have done that two days ago? Or was he reading too much into her every move?
In the fifteen minutes they’d had to change again and pack their tote, they’d managed to say perhaps a dozen awkward words. Angie had behaved like a textbook agent and had barely looked at him, and he’d gone along with it because it was hands down better than talking. But even after they’d pulled up the bedding, the room still smelled like sex, making it difficult to pretend that they hadn’t taken a giant step over the line. She had the right idea, though. Play the part, forget about the rest.
He leaned his head against the window while they waited for late arrivals Luke and Erica and concentrated on his agenda for the day. He needed to get Ira and Delilah to see him as vulnerable and desperate. He’d screwed up with his wife the night before, in front of the whole casino. So today would be about kissing Angie’s butt.
Not a wise thing to think about when she was sitting so close. The clean scent of her was already driving him wild, and they had a full day of togetherness to get through.
If only he could stop the quick flashes of memory, of the way she’d tasted, how it had felt to enter her for the first time. He shifted on the seat and looked around regaining his bearings. What he saw surprised him.
He leaned slightly toward Angie. “What’s everyone so pissed at us for? We’re not even the last ones on the bus.”
She didn’t make a big deal about checking out the group. “They’re not pissed, they’re curious.”
“About...?” He coughed, trying not to choke. “You don’t mean—”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed, she gave him a long, drawn-out look. Feeling like an ass, he pretended his mind hadn’t gone straight to the gutter.
“I’m pretty sure everyone has heard about me storming out last night after catching you with your coed,” she said, finally, resettling another inch away.
“I didn’t notice anyone but Tonya and Marcus,” he muttered, painfully aware that he’d been overly focused on Angie in that dress.
“All it would have taken is one person. Now they’re all waiting to watch you grovel.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll bet. Maybe I won’t give them the satisfaction.”
“Oh, you’ll grovel,” she whispered, then followed through by leaning back, frowning at him and turning so she was sitting sideways.
Across the aisle Hannah didn’t even try to hide her interest. She gave him a quick evil eye, then smiled with theatrical flair at Angie, the picture of a sympathetic friend.
Okay, this was good. All wasn’t lost. Playing the part of the guilty husband was no stretch. In fact, it was a little too real. From the moment he’d opened his eyes this morning he’d felt guilty and that was another thing he hadn’t expected. Guilt about women hadn’t been part of his repertoire for years.
Right there, that was the central problem. He shouldn’t have ever thought of Angie as anything but a colleague. The moment he’d seen her as a woman, everything had begun to unravel. This morning, he’d seen shame in her eyes, at least when she could make herself look at him. By the time they’d arrived at the Lavender Room, she’d gotten her act together, but he knew what he’d seen. It upset him more than he cared to think about.
Last night had been an eleven for him, more memorable than any encounter he’d had in years. That scared the crap out of him, with good reason, but dammit, he also didn’t want regret to overshadow everything else.
He couldn’t imagine she felt anything but regret. After all, he was the player of players, his reputation built on solid evidence augmented by rumors that he never bothered to squelch. In the real world, she’d made it clear she wasn’t the least bit interested in the likes of him. Maybe that’s what appealed to him.
Whoa, he backed out of that thought at the speed of light.
Too much was happening at this retreat. All of it coming fast and furious. He’d said too much, relaxed his guard, let his feelings take control.
That stopped right now. This minute. Everything was at stake here, and he didn’t just mean the case.
During the rest of the drive to Hoover Dam, Angie spoke and laughed with most of the women on the bus, all chummy and rolling their eyes about men. Ryan stared at the high desert landscape, going over his plan to ask for help once he got Ira on his own. It didn’t matter that he’d rehearsed before. He didn’t dare think about anything else.
Ryan would admit to the affair, to the prenup, to his desperation to keep Angie happy. But the kicker would be an earnest confession that despite his behavior, he loved his wife and that it would kill him to lose her.
He doubted he’d have a bit of trouble acting the part.
* * *
ANGIE HADN’T GONE IN THE hot springs yet. She was purposefully keeping back now that they’d finished their first round of tandem exercises.
The first time they’d touched—she’d fallen back into his arms and let him catch her, which was supposed to build trust. It probably would have worked if the feel of him hadn’t felt like a body blow. But they’d played on. Touching with their sweaty bodies, holding each other. Staring into each other’s eyes.
At least their difficulty would read like they were a couple in trouble.
The idea of taking some time alone in the hot springs was tantalizing, but this break wasn’t for feeling better. It was for confiding in Delilah.
So she stared at the rock formations and the way the native plants poke out of every crag and furrow, knowing Delilah would come check on her. The last time Angie had been in Vegas it had been summer, over a hundred and ten outside. Today it was mid-seventies and the sky was ridiculously blue. She stared up at the bouncing waterfall, leaping from rock to rock on its way down the canyon. When she turned, she could almost see the entrance to Sauna Cave through the tamarisk bushes.
It was difficult not to seek out Ryan. He was on the opposite side of the big shelf of rock, huddled next to Ira. The two of them had started talking the mi
nute the break had begun, and even though Angie knew Ryan was telling the story they’d crafted, she had to wonder if he was as distracted as she was.
He was too good an agent to let his personal issues interfere with the assignment, and she’d thought she was right on par with him. And she had been. Until she’d let down her guard, allowing her hormones to subvert her intelligence.
Seems she could only hold on to her rationalizations for so long before she reverted to a doubting mess. Mostly she felt disappointed in herself. She’d thought she was stronger. That she could handle herself in any given situation, even something as tricky as pretending to be in love.
She’d been wrong. Regardless, she had to put all her personal turmoil aside and keep her head in the game. If only she’d been able to talk to Liz.
Yes, her friend had encouraged her to go for it, but once Angie explained the very real consequences, Liz would be there to help. Liz was an agent herself, and she understood that the success of this sting was the only thing that mattered. Wasting time trying to read into what Ryan was thinking... He was completely in character, none of his issues bleeding through, and she needed to step up and do the same.
“You mind some company?”
Angie spun around at Delilah’s voice. The woman exuded compassion and comfort, and for a second, Angie wished she could tell her the true story and get her counsel. Instead, she nodded, and instantly her eyes filled with tears. “Ryan’s a good husband,” she said. “He really is, you know.”
“I believe you.” Delilah took Angie’s hand in her own. “Tonya told me that you seemed upset about his behavior at the casino last night.”
Wiping her eyes with her free hand, Angie nodded. “It wasn’t the gambling I minded.”
“No?”
Delilah was so close to her that Angie had to be careful of every move. She avoided the older woman’s gaze and her wince lasted but a second. “He doesn’t mean anything by his flirting. He can’t help it. Women come on to him all the time. But that’s because he’s very sweet and so good-looking. I was the one who started things with him when we first met, so I can’t blame them for trying.”