Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
It was dirty and wrong. Inappropriate for coworkers—not to mention enemies… frenemies… archnemeses—but spot-on perfect for this dim corridor in a late-night dance club in Miami. We were making a scene… but that was the point.
Somehow, Kev’s legs ended up around my waist, his back pressed against the wall again and my mouth sucking marks down his neck. His hair stood on end from my seeking hands, and the mewling sound he made had me on the verge of embarrassing myself in public.
At some point, I heard someone talking in my ear, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was using every single minute of this “distraction” to taste and feel and hump every bit of Kevin Rogers I could.
“Mm-hn,” Kev moaned. “But, nnggghhh… hnghhh. Wait… whut… wait… wait!” He pulled back and stared at me dazedly. “We gotta go.”
“Huh?” I leaned in and kissed his swollen lips again. And again. “What? Go where?”
“I think… I think Champ said we’re supposed to go.” He looked around us and suddenly jerked out of my hold, stumbling to the side until I grabbed his arms. He looked at me with wide eyes. “They’re gone!”
I looked around the empty corridor. Fuck.
The comms unit crackled in my ear before Jordan spoke, their voice full of amusement. “Where the hell are Hux and Kev? Did they miss the part where providing distraction to cover our getaway only works if they remember to leave?”
Champ’s voice took over, sounding distinctly unamused. “I don’t have eyes on them. They’re in a camera blind spot. Hux, find Kev and get your ass out front to the vehicle. Now. Otherwise, we’ll send someone back in for you.”
I bit out a response. “Copy. On our way.”
After taking a firm grip of Kev’s hand, I once again pulled him through the crowded club, this time much less eagerly. We ignored the blatant come-ons and people who accidentally stepped in our path, and when we finally hit the outside, I took a deep breath of muggy Miami air and tried to clear my head.
Halfway down the block, the back door opened on our rented SUV. Kev dropped my hand and strode down the sidewalk, leaving me to catch up.
“Sorry, guys,” he said as he scrambled inside and took a seat in the third row. “We were…” His voice trailed off, and he blinked at me as I climbed into the second row. His face was bright red, and his eyes were still wide.
I wanted to pull him onto my lap and wrap my arms around him. Instead, I faced forward, closed the vehicle door, and stared out the darkened window into the night.
“Making a scene?” Jordan asked with fake naiveté and real glee.
“Contributing to the distraction?” Yolanda supplied, shooting me a wink.
“Sucking face?” Elvo suggested in a low voice before I elbowed him hard in the side.
“Caught up in the crowd,” I said firmly.
The car made its way through the half-empty city streets. My teammates discussed the success of the op in a low buzz, but I tuned it out.
Flashbulb memories of making out with Kevin snapped through my vision until all I could see was his kiss-drunk expression. I could still taste cherry ChapStick on my lips and feel the swell of his ass against my palms. Despite my teammates laughing and joking around me, I’d swear I could make out the sound of Kev’s breathing, of his racing heart.
All I could think about was getting him in my arms again. Putting my mouth and hands on him. Taking everything I wanted from him and not letting him go until he lay debauched and spent in my sheets.
My leather jacket was stifling, so I tore it off. Jordan chucked me the T-shirt I’d left in the car before the op, and I dragged it over my head, then sank back against the seat. I closed my eyes and focused on slowing my breathing.
Inhale, one, two, three… coffee and vanilla.
Exhale, one, two, three… the feeling of Kev’s smooth skin beneath my…
No. This was not okay. It wasn’t professional. Hell, this was Kevin Rogers.
Kev the Civilian.
Kev the Annoying Orc Hoarder.
Kev, my freakin’ archnemesis since the first day I’d acquired my Horn.
Kev, who was brilliant—and had the degrees and patents and Harley-Davidson team gear to prove it.
Kev, who had a housekeeper and a trust fund and a lair that was bigger than my parents’ house.
Kev, who was kind to rabbits and newbie players… and even to me when I didn’t deserve it.
Acknowledging that I wanted him was one thing. Pursuing it would lead to infinite levels of disaster.
I had to take a giant step back. To approach this logically. To—
“Hux?”
Kev’s whispered question was almost too low to hear, unless you were a total sap who’d somehow become completely attuned to the man. I turned my head and found him huddled in the corner of the seat against the door. His arms were wrapped around his knees.