Page 81 of Protect Thy Enemy

His hands shift, sliding up my waist with a slow deliberation that makes my breath catch. The rough pads of his fingers graze just beneath my ribs, skimming the edge of my underboob, a whisper of contact that sends a ripple of heat coursing through me.

I bite my lip, my pulse hammering in my ears as his voice cuts through the haze, low and rough against my ear. “Is this what you came here for, Rookie?”

The way he says it makes my chest tighten, his tone dripping with accusation and something darker, something primal.

“Find a quick fuck?” he continues, his breath hot against my skin. “Blow off some steam?”

I don’t answer. I can’t because every nerve in my body is too consumed by the slow drag of his hands as they explore, testing the boundaries of my control.

“Tell me,” he growls, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Is this what you wanted?”

My thighs press together instinctively, a futile attempt to ease the ache building there. But he notices. Of course he notices.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice a quiet, dangerous promise. “You’re making it too easy to forget the rules.”

I don’t miss the shift in him, the hard, unmistakable press of his own arousal against my back. Thick and prodding. My breath stutters, my body betraying me as a surge of heat pools low in my stomach. My panties are impossibly wet, and I can’t even blame it on the alcohol.

His hands slide lower, his thumbs brushing just above the waistband of my jeans, teasing, testing, and trying to call my bluff. Every movement is slow as if he’s savoring the way my body reacts to him.

“You’re quiet now,” he whispers, the taunt laced with amusement and frustration. “What happened to all that back talk?”

I force a breath, my voice barely audible. “You seem to like me quiet.”

His low chuckle vibrates against my back, dark and intimate, sending a shiver racing down my spine. “Not like this.”

The hand on my waist tightens, pulling me back against him, his arousal pressing harder against me. The friction sends a jolt through me, and I have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his voice like smoke, curling around me and setting me on fire.

I nod, the movement small, my throat too dry to form words.

“That’s what you do to me,” he says, his tone rough with barely restrained want. “Every time you run your mouth, every time you look at me like that, every time you breathe. I can’t think straight around you.Thatis how you’re a liability.”

My heart hammers against my ribs, and I hate how much I want him, how much I’ve wanted this for longer than I’m willing to admit.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks again, his lips brushing against my ear. His hands tease and torment, pushing me closer to the edge. “Tell me, wife.”

I swallow hard, my voice trembling when I finally manage to speak. “I didn’t—”

“Liar,” he cuts me off, his voice a quiet growl. “You came here looking for trouble, didn’t you? Just like you did that night with Beckett. And you found it.”

My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. His hands, his voice, and his presence overwhelm every sense.

“I should leave you here,” he says, his hands sliding back down to my hips, his grip firm and possessive. “Let you find whatever it is you’re looking for. But I can’t, can I? I’d slaughter them all.”

He pulls me tighter, and the movement makes me gasp as my body molds against his. I can feel every hard line of him, the heat of his skin bleeding through his clothes, branding me.

“You’re a bad little wife,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the corner of my jaw. “But I’m the only one who gets to clean upyourmess.”

The words are a growl, filled with frustration and something deeper, something darker, that threatens to unravel my last shred of control.

I don’t trust myself to speak, my body betraying me with every pulse, every shiver, every breath.

“And unless you want me to shoot every single motherfucker in here staring at you like they want a piece too, I’d advise you to get the fuck in the car.”

His quiet snarl cuts through the haze of heat and music like a knife.

Before I can react, he spins me to face him, his hands firm on my hips. His eyes, icy, stormy, and impossibly dark, lock onto mine, and the air between us shifts. It’s suffocating and electric all at once.

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