Page 89 of Covert Mission
His eyes drift closed. Tension scores his brow. “I was a fucking animal.”
I let my hands drift up his lats, across his shoulders, until I’ve got him wrapped in a tight hug. “Yes, you were.”
He drops his forehead to my shoulder. “You deserve better.”
“I loved it.”
When he doesn’t reply, I whisper, “It was incredible. I’ve never had pleasure like that.”
He stops breathing. A groan rumbles through him. “You feel so good. What we just did will be with me until the day I die.”
There must be an emergency brake on my heart because it screeches to a halt.
I won’t forget Lucas either when this is all over. And as sure as I know how to breathe, I know this flash fire affair is going to end.
I reel for a long beat before I can figure out what to say.
“You were incredible. I just held on.”
His mouth moves to my ear. “You were just you. Perfect.”
The tightness in my throat gets worse.
I’m not perfect. I’m flawed. Broken. And not even being honest with the man.
A weird sensation takes root inside of my body. It’s dark and ugly. Filled with regrets that I’m going to have.
Guilt is a bitter pill.
I wiggle away from him and climb off the bed as pain scores through me. I try to sound light even though my soul feels like a boulder the size of a small car. “I saw your first-aid kit in the bathroom. I’m going to take care of that arm now, even if I have to hold you down.”
“If that’s code-speak for you crawling on top of me, then I’m down with that.”
I shake my head, laughing as I trot to the bathroom. While I’m there, I use the bathroom, wipe his cum off my thighs, and look in the mirror. I’m not sure how I feel about the woman looking back at me.
I’ve broken every one of my personal rules. Starting with the one that I let something personal affect my work. And god, I can’t believe we didn’t use a condom. But the worst of all…I’ve let myself catch a case of the feels for a man I can’t have.
“There are only so many things you can do in a bathroom that small,” he calls from the bed.
I grab his kit and head back before I go any farther down the dark rabbit hole of guilt.
He catches my hand and tugs me, forcing me to climb on the bed. He doesn’t stop until I’m straddling him and his cock is nested between my folds.
“Now this is better.”
He hinges his left arm up and puts his hand behind his head, putting the cut on display.
“Ick. That needs stitches.”
He distracts me by brushing his other hand across my breast. “Hm, what were you saying?”
I give him a look. “You can’t be doing that while I’m working.”
“You’re cute as hell when you concentrate.”
I make a face at him. “You’re annoying when you’re distracting.”
His hand trails down my stomach, warm and strong. “I love your body, Poppy.”