Page 18 of Braxton

“Guess we both went from being the good guys to assassins,” he murmured.

“Yeah, guess so.” With a sigh, she walked over to the couch and dropped down. “After going on the run, I decided to use my skills in other ways, and the Cardinal was born.”

He walked over and sat down beside her, focusing on her red hair. He’d always loved the vibrant color and itched to run his fingers through it. The codename fit her perfectly. Unable to resist, he reached out and took hold of a fiery strand, rubbing it between his fingers. Just as soft and silky as he remembered.

“Am I hearing regrets?” he asked, voice husky.

“About my current profession…or you?”

Brax let go of the red strand and slid his hand up and around her neck, cupping it. When had they gotten so close? His thigh pressed into hers and he felt a tremble move through her body. His attention dropped to her lips which parted slightly.

God help him, he was on the verge of kissing her. And nothing would stop him.

They both moved at the same time, their mouths crashing together. The kiss was desperate, molten, and full of need.Five years.The thought flashed through his head. It had been one thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days since he’d last tasted her sweet lips, and he drank deeply, savoring the moment.

And none of it had been their fault. They’d merely been victims, caught in a web of lies.

Locking down his fury over the situation, he focused on the feel of her mouth moving hungrily against his. He knew one thing for certain—his desire for Quinn had never lessened. He craved her like nothing else. Losing her had left a jagged hole in his heart, one that nothing or no one had been able to fill.

It had always been Quinn, and it always would be. Whether he fucking liked it or not.

He grabbed her hips and dragged her forward until she was straddling him. Her fingers scraped through his hair, dislodging his curls from the gel that held them in place. Their mouths fused, tongues dueling, and desire spiraled through him. He yearned for her with every fiber of his being.

She broke her mouth free, breathing hard. “This…” —she began nibbling on his lips— “isn’t a good idea.”

“No…” —he flicked his tongue against hers, his hands squeezing her ass— “it’s a horrible idea.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She rolled her hips against his and he groaned, aching for her. But the moment his hand curved around her breast, Quinn slid sideways off his lap.

He wanted to reach for her, but he held back.

“You’re a mistake I don’t plan on repeating,” she murmured, scooting further away.

Ouch.That hurt. But the reality of the situation was they’d both been duped.

“Quinn—”

But she didn’t want to hear it.

“I think it’s in our best interest to keep things professional.” A steely look settled over her features and he knew better than to discuss it further. Not yet, anyway. But he would when the time was right. Because one thing just became very clear.

He wasn’t giving up on her. On them. Not again.

Chapter Eight

After moving away from Braxton, the protective walls around Quinn’s battered heart shot up, surrounding it in the sharpest barbed wire. He’d just knocked the breath out of her with that kiss. And, God, yes, she had so many regrets about what had happened over the last five years.

But it was over and done with, right? So there was no point in dwelling over their past mistakes and what could’ve been. Going down that road with Brax again would be her demise. She knew with all certainty that if she lost him again, she’d never recover. Because she’d learned losing someone you can’t live without was the worst kind of pain.

And that wasn’t a chance she could take.

Putting her game face in place, shutting off her conflicted emotions, she turned to him. “You mentioned the final four players,” she reminded him, back to business. “Who are they?”

He shifted, trying to get comfortable, but she’d felt the evidence of his arousal. And, dammit, she couldn’t go there. Remembering how fantastic they’d been together between the sheets wasn’t going to help anything. Especially not when it came to her trying to figure out how to move on from this man once and for all.

“Alvaro Mesa, Malcolm Grendel, Cross Mills…and you.”

Her head snapped up. “The Cardinal?”

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