Page 36 of Secret Mission

She needs to hear how she affects me.

“You’re so beautiful and sexy, Ally. I’m a goner every time I look at you.”

“Oh, god,” whispers out of her. “Did you see my… um, my vagina before, because I’m not sure?—”

Abrading my thumb over her bottom lip, I let my hunger show in my gaze as I watch the pink tip of her tongue come into view. “I didn’t touch you there, I promise. I didn’t do anything that was lewd, you have my word. I want your eyes wide open when I touch you.”

Her pulse is hammering, her eyes doe-like, resting above flushed cheeks and a mouth that wears the mark of my kiss.

I’m in so damned deep.

The world disappears from around us.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about getting my mouth on you—all of you—since I took your clothes off to check for injuries.”

Her throat contracts roughly as she tries to swallow. “I’m not sure whether I find that a turn on or terrifying.”

My tone is raspy, my vocal cords vibrating with the need to get my fucking hands all over her and not in a clinical-checking-for-injuries way. But I’m not good with her really being afraid of me, ever.

“Do I scare you?”

I freeze, waiting. Because if she is truly scared of me, I’m fixing this right fucking now.

Pushing up on her elbows, she pouts for a beat, her eyes going unfocused. “Yes. I mean… sort of. Christ, I don’t know. I just don’t know how I feel about you. It’s so confusing.”

Things are messed up. This whole situation is a circus, but as crazy as things are, this needs to be straight.

“I will never hurt you. Understand?” I press my hand over my heart. “My life for yours. I’ll take a bullet. Drown while I save you from a crocodile. Give you the only parachute. You don’t know me, but you will, and youwillknow what the ultimate protection feels like.”

Tracing the side of her face, I push back a lock of hair. The urge to confess that I’ll take care of her heart, her body, and her soul thrums inside, an incessant chant.

Her eyes soften, making me contemplate the notion of love at first sight.

For a long beat, she inhales, then lets out a soft reply. “Truck… You don’t even know me.”

She has no idea how much I do know about her. The depth of my work and my obsession would send her running for cover.

I should confess.

But I won’t. Although I do smile down at her enjoying her surprise as I rattle off facts. “I know you studied archeology at UC Berkley, and earned your Doctorate six years ago. You keep a 1975 Mustang, blue in color, in a garage in South Carolina. I know you eat M&Ms when you’re stressed—at least when you’re in the US anyway. And I know you named your childhood stuffed bear Macaroni, and he’s in your bedroom in the apartment you haven’t been to in six months.”

“Oh, my god. How do you know that?”

“What part?”

“All of it,” she says with a wheeze. “The bear? How do you know about Macaroni?”

“When I was back stateside for some medical treatment, I went through your apartment to help us with your missing person’s case. Macaroni’s name is written on the jacket he’s wearing.”

In really bad handwriting, but I don’t bring that up.

I’ve just said enough to scare her for the next fifty years of her life.

IfI let her get into her head.

“Enough talking.” I capture the long, tangled strands of her hair in my fist and kiss her sweet lips, stealing any more concerns.

Ally responds in a flash. Moaning hotly down my throat, sending a bolt of lust racing down my spine and out along my limbs, turning me inside out.

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