Page 37 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

Going straight out the door, I pause at the office, waiting for the guard inside to look at me. I point back at the room where Julieanne is sitting. "She doesn't go anywhere. If she gets out of that room, I’ll rip your arms off and beat you to death with them." I start to walk away but stop, deciding I need to add another stipulation. "If anyone goes in there, I’ll also rip your arms off and beat you to death with them."

The guard looks surprisingly unfazed by my threat. Just nods and goes back to watching his monitors, none of which display the inside of the room where Julieanne sits. Knowing he’s not watching her calms the strange sensation crawling over my skin.

When he notices I’m still standing there, the guard lifts his brows, shooting me a look like I’m fucking annoyinghim. Like he doesn’t understand I’m capable of bringing his shift to a quick and brutal end.

Does everyone fucking doubt me?

"The fuck,” I grumble to myself as I go back to the SUV and collect my bags, slinging them over my shoulder before stalking back into the hangar. The guard gives me another bored look as I pass and I grit my teeth. He’s fucking lucky I’ve got more important things to deal with.

When I walk back into the waiting room, I'm shocked to see Julieanne is still where I left her. She sits in the chair, plucking at her pants, which are as damp as I suspected. After spending a couple nights outside her condo, I know exactly how wet the ground is, how quickly it can soak into your clothing if you aren't careful. And I was not careful when I shoved her down into the brush. I was only thinking about hiding her. Keeping her safe.

Right before I walked away and let some other asshole get close to her.

Guilt eats at me, the bite just as foreign as the stretch of a smile. I drop the bags at her feet and crouch down, pulling out a pair of sweatpants I packed to sleep in back when I was feeling confident this trip would be what I expected. "Stand up."

She goes to her feet surprisingly fast. My focus has been on getting her warm and dry, not the specifics of the process involved, so I have her ruined pajama pants dragged to her knees before realizing our positions put me face to face with the temptation of her cunt.

My hands stall out, stopping as I stare at the perfect little triangle of dark hair trying to reel me in. Enticing me to find out if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.

I stare long enough I know she notices, and I'm onlyhalf surprised when Julieanne’s soft voice warns me, "Let me help."

Before I can brace myself, she's wiggling. Shimmying in a way that sends her pants dropping to the floor. Then she lifts one leg, detangling her foot from the pile while also giving me an even better view of her flushed flesh.

Before she can drop her foot back to the floor, I grab her thigh, holding it in midair. Her hands grip my shoulders, steadying herself as I continue staring. Her breathing gets faster. More ragged. The fingers on my shoulders flex, holding tight. My mouth waters in anticipation and my cock’s back to pressing painfully against the fly of my pants.

"Is something wrong, Vincent?" That hint of a tease is back in her husky voice, but this time it's more of a taunt. Just like when I had her pinned against the wall of her bedroom.

"Yeah, something’s wrong." It's a huge fucking understatement. There's so much wrong right now. And every bit of it centers on her.

"Maybe this will be easier if I sit down." Julieanne slides to the chair, rocking back a little. My hand’s still gripping her thigh, holding it open as she lifts her other foot from her ruined pants in a move that spreads her wide to my hungry gaze. "There. Better?"

Every bit of her is pink and perfect and more temptation than I’ve ever faced in my life. I drag my eyes to her face. "It's not better, and you fucking know it." She knows what she's doing to me. Knows the power she has over me. This woman might be sweet, but she's so far from innocent it's not even funny.

"Oh. Well in that case." Julieanne holds my gaze as shetries to bring her legs together. To hide herself from me. To steal the object of my desire.

Grabbing her other thigh and shoving it to the side, I open her wider than she was before, and growl, "Don't you fucking dare."

Then I lower my open mouth to her body.

14

LIKE SOME SORT OF MERCENARY MARY POPPINS

JULIEANNE

I CAN’T BELIEVE this is happening.

This is…

This is…

“Oh my god. You are so freaking good at that.” My head falls back hitting the wall behind me harder than I expect, but I don’t care. In this moment I don’t care about anything. Well, except for the way Vincent’s tongue is teasing against my clit.

It’s fucking magnificent.

His hands tighten on my thighs as he pulls me closer, dragging my ass to the edge of the chair before he goes back to what he was doing, letting out a low growl against my body.

If I wasn’t already halfway to an orgasm, that sound would have me there. It’s animalistic. Primal.

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