Page 23 of The Agent
“Definitely not,” Natalie said.
Tully shrugged. “I did a lot of stupid and illegal things when I was a teenager. The only difference is that I didn’t get caught. I won’t hold some adolescent shoplifting against him.”
Profound gratitude—and surprise—welled up inside her. She would have understood if Tully had rescinded his offer. He had KRG’s reputation to protect. His willingness to give Deion a chance melted a barrier. “I expected you to have been an Eagle Scout.”
“Not even close.” Tully’s voice was flat. “I was never good at following rules.”
“Yet you joined the FBI.”
“A miscalculation.” He stared past her into some memory before he shook his head. “I wasn’t cut out to work in a bureaucracy. But that’s history. Let’s head out.”
He escorted her back to her office to collect her laptop and purse. She didn’t stop him—not because she was afraid but because she savored the occasional brush of a hand or shoulder as they maneuvered down the narrow hall. Even better was the brief press of his palm against the small of her back when he wanted her to go in front of him through the doorway. She could read new feelings into that moment of contact—protectiveness, compassion, and bone-deep decency. That small touch rippled through her body and then deeper, where she didn’t want to feel it.
“I’m just going to check that everything is secure,” he said as they came back into the front hall. He put her laptop case, which he had taken from her, on the reception desk and prowled through the salon, examining window latches, testing the front door, and sweeping his gaze around the rooms. She shifted her position so she could watch him, his body encased in jeans and a dark-green T-shirt, his male presence a striking contrast to the feminine decor. When he ran his fingers over a cracked windowpane, she imagined them skimming over her bare skin. That sent a bloom of arousal through her body.
He pivoted and caught her staring. In a startling change from his flurry of purposeful motion, he went entirely still, his gaze locked with hers.
She should have looked away but she didn’t have the willpower.
She swallowed and he moved again, coming toward her with a different kind of purpose.
“Nat?” he asked as he stopped two feet away from her, his eyes scanning her face with a heat she knew was answered in hers.
She stepped into him, pressing her hands against the cotton of his shirt so she could feel the wall of his chest muscles underneath. “Yes.”
But he moved back so her hands hung in thin air as he shook his head. “You’re just scared.”
“That’s the thing. I’m not scared at all.” She should be. Not of her stalker, but of her desire to have this man kiss her.
She closed the distance between them and ran her hands up his chest to rest on the hard curves of his shoulders, tilting her face up and waiting. He let her stand that way for a stretched-out moment as if he expected her to change her mind.
She held on to her patience. Why had he decided to have an attack of scruples just when she’d gotten hers to shut up?
She breathed a silent sigh of relief when his hands came up to rest just above her hips. Then he lowered his mouth to hers so slowly that she could see tiny details on his face. A small scar at the corner of his right eyebrow. The striations of silver, black, and gray in his irises. The faint glint of whiskers along his jaw line.
Her breathing grew shallow as his lips touched hers with a light pressure, almost a question. She leaned in, pleasure running through her veins like lightning as her breasts met his chest.
No longer were his hands gentle on her waist. Now one cupped her head and the other slid down to palm her butt, bringing her hard against him. And his mouth! He angled it to fit hers, teasing with his tongue, grazing with the edge of his teeth. She opened her lips to flirt with that tongue, making him moan, the sound spiraling down between her legs.
His fingers massaged her scalp, threading into her hair, while he shifted so his thigh was between hers. The friction against the V between her legs made her gasp and arch her neck backward.
He bent farther so he could drag his lips down her bared throat, swirling his tongue in the indent at the base. Her nerve endings danced with arousal. “Yes!” she said, digging her fingers into his shoulders and pushing her hips against his thigh. She couldn’t believe how close she was to an orgasm.
His mouth was on hers again in a too-brief, too-soft kiss before he raised his head. His eyes blazed as he gave her a crooked smile. “Nat, I want like hell to keep going, but I need to be sure you’re not just ... reacting to the situation.”
“My reaction is to you and only you.” She was a little pissed that he would imply she didn’t know her own mind.
“I like that answer.” His smile went scorching. “But let’s take this back to your house where it’s more comfortable.”
She could see that his decision was made. Maybe her common sense would reassert itself on the drive home.
No, her body was humming with anticipation in a way she hadn’t felt for years. Just this once, she wasn’t going to let good judgment and bad experiences interfere with that.
When his hand stayed on her butt, she let a satisfied little smile curl her lips.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s the joke?”
“You haven’t let go of me.”
