Page 43 of Once a Killer

“I have a very high security clearance,” he said.

“Mine’s higher,” she said immediately.

He leaned back in the seat and smiled as he studied her. “Are we into ‘mine’s bigger than yours’ territory? Because I can assure you, mine is definitely bigger than yours.”

Her shoulders relaxed as her lips twitched. One side of her mouth ticked up. “I sure as hell hope so.”

He leaned close enough to inhale her spicy scent. “Because you’re looking forward to finding out for yourself?”

She glanced at him, and for just a moment, mischief danced in her eyes, making the gray sparkle. “Because if it wasn’t, I’d feel really sorry for you.”

Smiling, he turned and stared out the windshield. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll have any complaints.”

“Ooh,” she said. “Big talk.”

He liked this playful, teasing version of Bree. And he wondered how often she made an appearance. Suspected it was infrequently.

“I’ll be happy to demonstrate for you. Anytime.”

“That’s a very generous offer,” she shot back. “Sadly, though, I’m forced to decline.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You can change your mind anytime. I’m flexible.”

She turned into the alley and pushed the button to open his garage door. “Yeah? Flexible is my specialty.”

Holy, holy shit. Was she serious? He sure as hell hoped so. “We can compare flexibility any damn time you like,” he said as she pulled into the garage.

“Be still my heart,” she said as she threw the car into Park and turned off the ignition. Closed the garage door.

She slid her gun out of her holster and waited for him to climb out of the monster. Then she opened the door into his backyard and studied the space for a long time. Finally she nodded to him, and he emerged from the garage.

A couple minutes later they were in the kitchen and she watched as he engaged the locks. Then he leaned against the door. “Nothing like a close call to make the commute home exciting.” He studied her for a long moment, surprised when she looked uncomfortable. “Have I thanked you for making sure that guy didn’t hit me?”

“No thanks necessary,” she said, watching him steadily. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I don’t want to get hurt, either.” He reached out to touch her, then pulled his hand back. “I also don’t wantyouto get hurt because of me.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault. It would be the fault of whoever’s targeting you.”

“If you’re going to be so precise, I will be, too.” He leaned closer, and his blue eyes sparkled. “I don’t want you to be collateral damage. While you’re working for me, I don’t want anyone touching one hair on your head.” He leaned closer and smiled. “Except me. I want to be the only one touching your hair. And every other part of you.”

He expected her to back away. Shut him down. Instead, she edged closer. “Touching is not on the table,” she said.

“How about kissing, then? We’ve already kissed once. Hottest kiss ever. And I want to do it again.” Every cell in his body screamed at him to put his mouth on hers. Taste those soft, soft lips. Inhale the tiny sounds she made when she kissed him.

“Kissing’s off the table, too,” she said, but she didn’t move away. Her gaze searched his face, as if looking for an excuse to move closer.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her closer and brushed his mouth against hers.

She sucked in a sharp breath and put her hands on his chest. But instead of pushing him away, as he’d expected, she curled her fingers into his shirt. Yanked him closer.

Her curves were soft against his chest and her stiff nipples burned into his skin, even through their shirts. He wanted to burrow beneath her shirt. Cup her breasts. Taste them. But he was afraid to ruin the moment. Afraid she’d shove him away. Instead, he took the kiss deeper.

When he touched her lips with his tongue, she froze for a moment. But instead of stepping away, she opened for him. Their tongues danced and tasted. Stroked. Explored.

A low groan vibrated from her throat, and he pulled her closer. Ran his hand down her back, kneading her muscles. Finally he burrowed beneath her shirt.

Her skin was smooth. Softer than anything he’d ever felt. He wanted to spend hours touching her. Tasting her. Finding all the places that made her moan. Cry out. Gasp.

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