Page 66 of Boomer
She stopped walking. Dead in her tracks. Boomer’s back was to her now, broad, bronzed, water glistening across shoulders that could carry the goddamn world. Like he couldn’t bear to watch her walk away. Like he didn’t trust himself not tofollow.
Trouble? She was going to get someright now. Fuckher boss. He could wait.
She spun and strode back to him, determined, lit from within by that same low thrum of reckless need.
He turned, of course he did. The man had spatial awareness like sonar. His head lifted, eyes locking on hers as if he'd sensed the change in air pressure the second she pivoted.
There was a towel in his hands. She plucked it away like it belonged to her. “This is for me,” she said, low and sultry, “but I hope you get something out of it too.”
Her eyes swept down his body,allof it. These shorts? They should beclassified.
“How do you get off wearing these in public? They should be registered as a deadly weapon.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then back up, green eyes dark with heat and amusement.
“You’re trying to kill me, right?” Then he bit his lip,thatfull, gorgeous lower lip, and her knees nearly buckled.
“They’re part of my kit,” he said, voice raspy. “Navy issued.”
She scoffed, dragging the towel slowly down his chest, savoring every rivulet she chased. Her fingers were deliberate, almost reverent, skimming along the ridges of his abs, then over the damp fabric clinging to him like a lover’s second skin.
“I’msurewhen they were issued, they didn’t take into account what happens to a Navy SEAL when he’s got a hard-on.”
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound low and rich anddangerous.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think they did. They’re… snug.”
She dragged the towel around to his back, over the wide planes of muscle, fingers ghosting lower than they needed to.
“Snug?” she echoed, eyes sparkling. “Could yougetany harder or bigger? And I want to see the documentation that these shorts are Navy issue,mein streusel.”
He turned, grinning, but the grin faltered when she toweled off his hair, fingertips brushing through the short, wet strands like she wasmemorizingthe shape of him.
Then he grabbed her arms, tugging her in.
“This is for me,” he echoed back, voice molten, “but I hope you get something out of it.” Hekissedher, deep and lush and claiming. A slow, open-mouthedFrench kissthat stripped her of logic. Of duty. Of breath.
She melted into it, hands curling into his shoulders, mouth yielding, heartscreamingfor more.
When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged, his lips kissed raw, she could barely find her voice. But she did in a soft, breathless, “Ooh la la.”
Taylor could barely focuson anything her boss was saying. When she made it into the MAOC Command Center, Raoul was tapping his foot. He was peeved she was later than he expected. Worth it. Every goddamn second.
She squared her shoulders, smoothed her expression, and strode in like she hadn’t just been thinking of twenty different ways to get Carter Finley naked against or on any available surface.
“Taylor,” her boss snapped.
She jerked, just a little and met his eyes. “Sorry, sir. It’s already been a long day.”
He exhaled and nodded, but the edge was still there. “Of course. But I’m afraid it’s about to get longer.”
Ofcourseit was.
“You’ll need to liaise directly with every MAOC representative, Spain, France, Italy, Ireland, Portugal, and the UK. We need them fully on board with the interdiction strategy and agreeing that we need additional funding for this mission. We’ll be coordinating naval and air assets across all zones. Interpol and the American DEA want in. It’s going to take time.”
Taylor didn’t blink. Didn’t sigh. But she could feel her pulse pounding behind her eyes. “Understood, sir.”
“We’ll start briefings in twenty. I need you in the command vault. This will likely run through the evening.”
There it was. The last nail in what had almost been the perfect day. She nodded once, professionally. She wanted toscream. She wantedBoomer. She wanted those shorts back in her hands and his mouth back on hers and a locked door between them and the rest of the goddamn world. But they would have to wait. Tomorrow was Saturday, and they wouldn’t move forward on interdictions until Monday morning.
