Page 46 of Covert Mission

I snort.

Beast’s glare flashes like fireworks. Not the little fizzle kind. The kind that go BOOM!

They burn so hot it’s a wonder I don’t have a freaking hole right in the middle of my forehead.

I’m raspy when I speak. “No stick here. I need to keep my focus on work. This job is important to me. I don’t have time to think about what big stuff over there is packing in the meat department.”

Oh. Hell.

Belle nearly falls out of her chair. Her laughter is earsplitting. Like a hyena mated with a megaphone.

I look for something to stuff in her mouth.

Of course, Beast is staring even harder. If that’s even possible.

Meat department?

Shoot. Me. Now.

I turn ten shades of red. My panties start to feel really hot. With a disgusted croak, I hide my face. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

Belle snorts and howls. “Glad you lost your stick. It had to be hard to walk around like that all the time.”

“It’s the heat, it melted the important brain cells responsible for my filter.”

An incredibly awkward time passes with Belle laughing until tears are coming out of her eyes.

I shouldn’t look. But I do. Beast is wearing an expression that I can’t interpret. I haven’t been around enough men with his specific dictionary of expressions. This one is…thunderous. Yes. That’s it.

Unpredictable and thunderous, agitated, and wild. A lot like a hurricane.

Christ, why does that smoldery look turn me inside out?

I lose my patience and give Belle my best enough-of-it glare. “So, we’re sleeping in the truck, right?”

Belle’s laughter turns into piggy snorts. She’s talking between the animal sounds, only, I’m not listening.

I’m watching Beast shake his head,NO.

I narrow my eyes at him and press my lips into an uncompromising line. The heat that’s hitting my face pulses with a different kind of energy.

I have the mind to teach him the meaning of no.

One side of his mouth curls up. His look of determination turns into a knowing and very infuriating smirk.

The urge to punch his long, perfect nose makes my fist tingle.

Since when did I become so violent?

“What did you say?” I ask Belle as I vibrate with frustration.

“You might want to sleep in that godforsaken box truck, but if I can sleep inside four walls with a fan, I’m so down. You better get ready for a fight because if one of those hotties asks me to share his bed, I’m gonna hop on his back like a monkey.”

I open my mouth to debate.

“I’m serious,” she warns.

“Ugh.” But the visual of her leaping on one of these guys’ backs and belting out, “Yahooo,” almost makes me grin.