He continued to focus on the reddish-purple spot on her arm. “Those must’ve been some heavy books. It’s going to get a lot darker.”
She shrugged and forced a laugh. “This is why I’m such a strong supporter of digitization, even if my direct supervisor loves her books so much, she probably wants to be buried with a few.”
After a moment, he seemed to accept her explanation and crouched into a fighting stance. “Okay: lay it on me.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “There you go with the orders.”
His grin made her heart beat faster. “I’m just trying to give you a fighting chance.”
That was all the encouragement she needed to lunge at him with a front kick and then a hand strike. Her leg and hip were a little sorer than she had realized, but it was nothing she couldn’t manage. He easily deflected both. The one thing she was able to do was spin back out of reach before he could grab her.
“You are good at evasion,” he said, “I’ll give you that.”
He was good at, well, everything else. Without thinking about it, she rushed him again, glad for the adrenaline that came with the physical exertion. He easily dodged her rush. “You’re not thinking,” he said, “not being strategic.”
She wasn’t being strategic, huh?
They circled each other. She tried to study him, his movements, but the only real thing that stuck out to her was his agility. Maybe distraction would work? “Have you ever studied ballet?” she asked.
The look of surprise and bewilderment that crossed his face almost distracted her and made her laugh. Almost. She spun around to deliver a roundhouse kick from the side, rather than a frontal assault. He was able to dodge enough so that her foot barely grazed his side.
Dammit, how did such a big guy move so fast? She rushed him again. This time, he caught her hand and pulled her close, which effectively immobilized her. He pressed her right up against him. His arms felt like they were made of steel.
“Smart distraction technique, but overall, you’re fighting with emotion, not logic.” His eyes seemed to force hers to look at him.
“We’re sparring,” she reminded him. “Have you decided to make this a teaching exercise?”
She tried to give the slightest wriggle, but there was no give in his arms. Her breasts were squashed up against his chest, which wasn’t all bad, even if it was a little infuriating that he could pin her even while standing.
“Bad habits can be hard to break, no matter how they’re formed.” His eyes were so intense, it was as if he was trying to burn his word into her memory. “That’s how you end up black and blue.”
He released her, going back into his crouching stance. “I’ve won one point.”
She arched an eyebrow as she crouched down herself, mirroring him. “We’re keeping score?”
He grinned. “I just want to be clear on who kicked whose ass at the end of our match.”
“Oh, it’ll be clear,” she promised right before she pounced, intending to take him down with the element of surprise, but he was ready. The next thing she knew, she was airborne as he flipped her up in the air. She could feel him break her fall before she hit the mat, flat on her stomach. She wouldn’t have hurt herself on the mat anyway, but it was nice to know he wasn’t determined to win their sparring match at any cost.
Before she could move, he was on top of her, pinning her to the mat with his body weight as he immobilized her arms in a grasp that pretty much guaranteed she couldn’t move. She could feel the heat of his breath on the back of her neck as he said, “I’m getting to know your moves.”
Elle tried to catch her breath. She was torn between wanting to kick at him with her heel and rub up against him. “Know my moves? I didn’t even know what I was going to do.”
“I know.” She could feel his lips brush against the skin on the back of her neck as he spoke, setting off a flurry of tingles. “You weren’t thinking strategically. But I still know how you think, even on impulse.”
Her heart was beating even harder as she gave in to the urge to rub up against him, unable to stop herself. If they were in private, he would take her right here, right now: she had no doubt about that. It was too damn bad they weren’t alone.
“I win.” He gave the side of her neck a nip that sent shivers through her.
“Two points doesn’t win a match,” she managed to say. She couldn’t give in that easily.
“We’ll have the tie-breaker at your place.” Despite his words, he wasn’t moving or letting her up.
“You’re going to give me time to calm down, regroup?”
He nudged her shirt aside with his nose before giving the soft skin where her shoulder met her neck another nip. She could feel him, hard, against her. “I can handle you any way you come at me.”
Now she was struggling not to moan out loud. They were in the middle of the gym, and it was time for them to get the hell out of here. “You’re on.”
As Elle drove home, with Reese close behind, she had a moment to regroup. She briefly wondered if it was smart to take him to her place, but by now she knew he wasn’t some crazy psycho guy, and hooking up in hotels was going to get expensive. Neither the CIA nor the Navy paid that well. There was no rule saying people couldn’t hook up in their homes. Plenty of people did, and they were still hook ups. As exciting as her life could be as a CIA operative, sometimes she really missed school where the answer could be found in a book or somewhere.
She could practically hear Preston asking, “Do you really know the score?” and bit her lip. She knew the damn score. This fling with Reese couldn’t get serious anyway: he would be deployed soon, and it was guaranteed to be for a long time. She knew what she was doing. She wasn’t some naïve coed anymore.
Both her head and her heart remembered the score. She’d make sure of it this time.
Chapter 18
As soon as Reese stepped inside, Elle was pushing the coffee table out of the way. “I’m not surrendering.” She got into a fighting stance.
He grinned and got into a fighting crouch himself. “Someone seriously pissed you off today.”
She blinked in surprise. “How did-”
Before she could even finish the question, he was coming for her. She tried to dodge to evade his grasp, but there was no way to escape him. He had her flat on her back in no time, although he again was careful to break her fall so she didn’t hit the floor hard.
“Can’t handle me angry, huh?” she asked.
He grinned, capturing her wrists in one hand. “I seem to be managing.”
She tried to get out of his grasp but only succeeded in getting her legs apart enough so his lower body could settle between them. “Nobody likes a show-off.”
He rubbed himself against her between her thighs even as he pulled her shirt up with his free hand. “I’m just persistent.” She couldn’t free her wrists from his hold. “And strategic.” He didn’t waste any time getting to her bare skin, stroking and squeezing. “Besides, I told you I could handle you.”
Even as her eyes unfocused at his touch, she wondered if he could handle knowing she was a CIA operative. Where the hell had that thought come from? It was irrelevant; she couldn’t tell him whether he could handle it or not.
Which sucked. The whole secrecy thing had been part of the allure, part of what made working for the CIA exciting, but the reality of it just sucked. Suspicious colleagues. People shooting each other. Dead bodies.
His lips pressed against hers as his tongue parted her lips, surging into her mouth before he pulled back. “I don’t know where you went,” he said, “but you’re with me now.”
She stared up into his dark eyes. He’d actually noticed her distraction. Damn, this guy was good. She raised her head to kiss him herself, and his enthusiastic response told her he wasn’t upset as he began to stroke her again.
“What are you doing?” She couldn’t even manage much heat in her voice as she tried to wriggle away from him.
“Enjoying my win,
” he said as his touch grew firmer.
She could hear the breathlessness in her voice. “I haven’t conceded yet.”
“Then I’ll just have to be more persuasive.” His breath blew warm on her skin before the wet heat from his tongue sent her heart racing.
Her body took over and responded instantly, arching up against him. They were sparring anyway: who cared who “won”? Winning could mean different things. She sure as hell didn’t feel like a loser right now. She just wanted more and didn’t mind letting him know as her body writhed and her breath caught.
He kept a firm hold on her wrists as his lips continued to work their magic. “I thought I could bring you around.”
Her legs opened wider as if listening to an unspoken command from him. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?” Struggling against him was pretty much futile, but she couldn’t stop herself from trying. She refused to be a complete pushover, and besides, it was fun.
“Yep,” he replied as he raised his head. He released her wrists and had her shirt off, along with her bra, in no time.
She pushed against his bulky shoulders, but he captured her lips in a kiss that had her clasping his shoulders rather than pushing him away.
Then he got to work peeling off her sweats.
“What’s this?” He was looking at her hip and then spotted her thigh, his brow furrowed. “What the hell did you do?”
Oh shit. How the hell could she have forgotten her leg and hip? Okay, she knew how she’d forgotten: he’d done an excellent job of distracting her, but she had to think of something. Now.
“I fell hard.” She forced a sheepish look. “I’m a clutz.”
He grasped her arm, his grip gentle, as he turned it to study that bruise more carefully, too. “No, you’re not.”
Damn. He’d seen her spar enough to know that.
“You need to soak,” he said, rising. “You banged yourself up pretty good.”
“Soak? What?” She’d been happy- very happy- with what they were just doing.
Yet Reese was already in the bathroom. She could hear the water for the bath start to run. Hmmm. A bath together could be interesting. She wished she had a bigger tub.
Before Elle knew it, he was back out and gathering her up in his arms. She could feel their strength as he lifted her up as if she was feather-light.
“Reese! I can walk.” She wiggled a little, but his hold was firm as he carried her to the bathroom. “I don’t want you to injure yourself right before your deployment.”
He set her down in the warm water. The temperature was perfect. “I think I’ll manage.” His tone was dry, but his dark eyes shone as he kneeled besides the tub, picking up her bath sponge and her body wash.
“Don’t you want to join me?” she asked. Was he seriously going to bathe her?
“I’ll get in in a minute.” He lathered up the sponge and then began stroking her body with it, starting at her neck, then her arms- being very careful of the bruise- and then paying special attention to her breasts.
He soaped her entire body: her back, stomach, hips, legs, and yeah, between her legs, with a touch that managed to be both firm and gentle the same time. He stroked the tension that remained out of her muscles, leaving her limp in his arms as the water lapped around her. She couldn’t help but sigh as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
She had never felt so… cared for.
She opened her eyes when he pulled away, but she soon got the view she’d been waiting for as he pulled off his shirt and then his pants with the economy of movement that men seemed to have mastered. Then he was climbing in the bath with her, lifting her up just enough so that she was settled on top of him.
“Now it’s your turn,” she said, reaching for the sponge, but he stopped her by entwining his fingers with hers.
“Now we soak. You need to let your body rest.”
She tried to sit up, to protest, but he pulled her back down against his chest. “Trust me, I know about these things.” He pressed a kiss into the side of her neck.
She felt as if she melted into him as she lay against him, soaking in the heat from his body as the water surrounded them both. They were… snuggling. This was not hook up behavior.
It didn’t matter. She needed this. For tonight at least, she needed this. She needed him.
***
Elle was almost falling asleep when Reese finally got out of the tub, dried himself off, and then lifted her out of the tub. She murmured that she could dry herself off, but he paid her no attention, rubbing her entire body with the towel.
“You use this after every bath?” He picked up her lotion.
She nodded. “I can do-”
But he was already squirting some lotion into his palm, rubbing his hands together, and then smoothing it over her body. He was thorough, rubbing the lotion into every square inch of her skin with gentle yet teasing strokes. Whereas his touch had been soothing while he bathed her, now his touch was arousing, getting her heart beating faster and her blood pumping through her body, waking her up.
By the time he finished, she couldn’t stop herself from pulling him close for a kiss. He returned it with a deep kiss of his own, his tongue dueling with hers. He was again lifting her up, but this time he carried her to her bedroom, where he laid her out on the bed before lying down on top of her.
He was careful of her bruises, but he still gave her body another once over, this time with his mouth as well as his tongue. She heard her breath coming in short bursts as her muscles began to tighten, tighter and tighter until she could feel the arch in her lower back as she rose up, unable to lie flat any longer. It felt as if only his firm grip kept her from floating off the bed.
It was as if she watched through a haze as he got up, sheathed himself in a condom, and then he was back in bed with her, skin to skin. He slid in, and they fell into a rhythm that felt so right, it was as if they had been together forever, as he pushed her to another peak. This time, though, she could feel his muscles tighten as he surged deep, reaching his own peak.
Afterwards he pulled her close, her head resting against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat return to normal as she drifted off to sleep, glad she didn’t have to sleep alone.
Chapter 19
“Perhaps I needed to clarify what I meant when I said ‘keep your noses clean,’” Mason said as he shut the door to the room in the naval library behind him.
Elle and Preston sat at the table, waiting for him. She blinked; Preston was unmoved as Mason continued talking.
“Having to clean up two dead bodies is not keeping your noses clean.” He set his bag on the table as he spoke, unzipping it.
“Were the bodies discovered?” Preston asked. “I didn’t see anything in the news.”
Of course he thought to check the news. Elle hadn’t even considered checking; the building was locked to the general public at that hour, but graduate students and faculty had keys to the buildings so they could come in at any time.
“No,” Mason admitted as he pulled out his tablet. “We got there in time.” He sat down as he turned the tablet on. “They were here in the United States on student visas, but they’ve been suspected of being associated with a terrorist group based in Turkey. After what happened in Cambridge, we’re pretty certain they were, but they weren’t high-ranking members.”
It seemed unfathomable to Elle that terrorists groups would involve students, yet it made sense. They had a fairly easy time getting into the United States and had access to a lot of research, especially as graduate students. She just felt students should be left alone to study, learn, and just… be.
Yet she had been recruited as a student, so it wasn’t unique to terrorists. The realization gave her a chill.
“The code is indeed similar to a blended threat that’s attacking multiple state agencies at the moment,” Mason continued. He gave Elle a nod. “Seeing what’s in it will help our cybersecurity specialists, as well as our independent contractor.”
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She returned his nod. Was she actually getting an acknowledgement for successfully completing an op? From Mason? Maybe that chill she felt was because hell was freezing over at this very moment.
“So we secured the code and got you closer to identifying the group behind these attacks,” Preston said. A glimmer of self-satisfaction shone in his eyes.
Mason gave another nod of acknowledgment. “This mission was an unqualified success, but it’s not over. The computer system at Langley is holding for the moment, but a significant section of the NSA is disabled as well as Homeland Security. The FBI has been able to contain the attacks to their systems, as has the Pentagon, but the threats are serious. We’re keeping it out of the media and putting up a façade of business as usual, but it’s… not business as usual.”
Elle glanced outside and noticed a bird nestled in its nest in a tree by the window. The bird chirped as it looked about. How could things look so normal yet actually be so dangerous? It was as unreal as seeing someone running down stairs one minute and then sprawled out on the floor, dead, the next. Two nights ago, she had been on a spy mission, stealing intel for the United States. Last night she had made love to a hot guy. Well, she had hooked up with a hot guy. Plenty of people hooked up, but not many people ever went on spy missions. It all just seemed so… unreal.
“Ms. Paquet, are you concerned about the bird?” Mason’s question broke through her thoughts.
Shit. She was completely busted daydreaming. Elle looked at him, aware of Preston studying her from his seat. “I’m sorry: you were saying?”
“I noticed in the report it said you had a bad fall.” Mason’s gaze turned scrutinizing. “Do you need medical attention?”
She felt her cheeks flush. Talk about overreacting. “I’m fine: no serious injuries.”
After another pause, Mason said, “Right now, we’re on standby. We’re checking out the terrorist group we think is accountable and the independent contractor is working on a blended threat to counteract this. Our primary objectives are still to identify the group, their server for this network, and destroy the network as well as immobilize the group. As soon as we get an actionable lead, we’ll have the next op.”
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