As I turned the lock and started to step inside, his gentlemanly facade vanished completely. He curled his arm around my waist, spun me to face him, and crashed his mouth to mine. We were hurtling toward the danger zone at the speed of light, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wanted this—wanted him. Consequences be damned.
Before I knew it, the door banged shut and he had me pinned against it; his tongue spearing between my lips for a taste while his hand cupped my breast over top of my clothes. I went up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck and hooking my leg around his hip. Desire pulsed through me when I felt the evidence of his arousal at my core. Shamelessly, I ground myself against him, eliciting a deep groan from both of us.
Just as quickly as it started, he tore his mouth away and took a step back. Confusion and indecision marred his gorgeous face. I should’ve braced, but I hadn’t expected what came next.
“This is a mistake,” he mumbled, looking anywhere except in my eyes as the air left my lungs like a punch to the gut.
“Just go, Noah.” I opened the door, gesturing with my arm for him to leave. I’d be damned if he ever saw how much his callous words ripped me to shreds.
“Lanie, let me explain,” he tried to backpedal; fumbling over his words. Words I didn’t hear over the roar ofembarrassment. Words I wouldn’t hear because I was done. How dare he give me hope then rip it away.
Fuck that.
“You’re right,” I swallowed. “Thisisa mistake. Please go.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Neither of us moved for several excruciating seconds until he finally turned to leave, but not before landing one last blow.
“This isn’t over, Alaina Biggs.”
Yes, it was. It had to be. I couldn’t put my heart on the line again, only to be crushed in the palm of his hands. Besides, a workplace romance would only complicate my already complicated life.
1PLAYING WITH FIRE
Six monthslater
Lanie
Liars, in my opinion, were an infectious pustule on the ass-crack of humanity, yet in the past few weeks I’d become one of the best. Welcome to undercover work. It turned you into the thing you hated the most. Besides the whole lying aspect, working undercover meant being separated from two people I’d come to love dearly.
Henley, Keaton’s fiancée, and Jade, Koen’s wife, had slid seamlessly into my life. In a short amount of time, the three of us had fallen into a rhythm and not being able to communicate with them was slowly eating away at my sanity. They were as essential to me as breathing.
Our law enforcement partners at the DEA requested FBI assistance—more specifically me—in a case involving someone I knew years ago. Brandon Little and I went to high school together. He actually dated my best friend,Beth, for a short time, until they realized there was no romantic spark between them.
Beth disappeared our junior year and was later found dead, which fueled my need for justice, ultimately leading me on a path to join the FBI. Brandon did the exact opposite. He was allegedly in charge of manufacturing a new drug called Tranq Dope in West Virginia for a dangerous gang out of California, Los Tredos. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Los Tredos recently had dealings with the Russian Bratva.
The plan was simple. We set up an accidental meeting between myself and Little, then used our past as an opening to reconnect. What no one anticipated was the six-foot FBI agent who inserted himself into the investigation under the guise of providing backup for me. Worse yet, because of Noah’s outrageous behavior, our Resident Agent in Charge, Waverly Mitchell, insisted on being involved as well. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the actual reason, but it was the one I was going with.
In the months since the “incident,” as I referred to it, we’d fallen back into a good rhythm, as if the night had never happened. It was good, really good, until Mr. Overprotective got his panties twisted into a vicious knot. Suddenly he was everywhere and I’d found breathing had become increasingly difficult, like trying to suck air in through a straw. Christ, he even tried to strong-arm his way into crashing on my sofa during the whole operation, but I’d shut his shit down fast and hard.
After weeks of pretending I didn’t want to throat punch Brandon at every turn, we finally had a huge break. I overheard a conversation between him and a guy he called Z, setting up a meet. We were in the final stages planning the takedown when Koen and Jade had to rush to Californiaafter his mom had a heart attack. That’s when everything went sideways.
If Koen hadn’t gotten to her in time, Jade would’ve died at the hands of the leader of Los Tredos. With the vast majority of the gang behind bars, essentially cutting off the distribution aspect of our case, the DEA agents I was working with panicked. Turns out there was no need.
“Are you ready?” Noah leaned his shoulder against the one-way mirror, partially obstructing my view of the interrogation room where Brandon Little was being questioned by the lead DEA agents, Reed Hendricks and Oakleigh Harty.
“Absolutely. This needs to be over.”
What he didn’t understand was my statement had a double meaning. I was done with the case, done being isolated from my friends, but above all else, I was well and truly done playing these exhausting games with him. My heart couldn’t take it any longer.
“Remember, he’s not the guy you used to know.”
“Gee thanks, Captain Obvious.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve questioned a few criminals over the years, in case you forgot. Any other words of wisdom?”
Wisely, he kept his big mouth shut.
A quick rap on the door was the only warning we got before it opened and the rest of my team, including my two bosses, spilled into the room.
“They just finished with Popov,” Waverly announced. “He didn’t utter a word after he lawyered up.”