Page 129 of Rogue Mission
But then the boss calls.
FORTY-SIX
Justice takes the call, but this time he doesn’t walk away. He’s smiling into the phone, his hand stroking down my hair as he talks.
“Yeah, we’ll come,” he says, his gaze meeting mine. “She’s going to love it.”
My brows go up, but he shakes his head, mouthing, “surprise.”
A distant siren catches our attention and Justice tells his boss, “Sheriff, feds, and ambulance are coming. We’ll be at the airport in an hour.”
Airport? Now I’m really curious.
An hour later we’re in Spence’s truck, the stolen van left behind with the federal agents who were overjoyed to finally have the infamous Wraith in custody.
“He’s gonna feel that for a while,” Spence remarks as he pulls onto the secluded gravel road, taking us away from the cabin.
“Good,” grumbles Justice as his fingers stroke mine.
He refused to sit up front even though Spence gave him shit about not being a chauffeur.
“No sex in the back seat!” He gives Justice a glare in the rearview.
“Already done that,” I say, a grin curling my mouth.
“God almighty, I never imagined a woman who’s got as many one-liners as you, JT.”
“Neither did I,” Justice murmurs as he turns my face toward his.
His eyes are so warm and happy tonight, it tightens a knot around my heart. I’ve never seen him like this.
With a sigh, he lowers his mouth, taking mine in a slow pull, parting my lips with his tongue.
Gently, he slides his fingers into my hair, groaning into the kiss.
It’s over.
All the bad.
Now we get to have our good.
He pulls me tighter to his chest, tasting me, slipping his tongue along mine, a deep rumble moving through him.
The world outside blurs away until I push him back. “I need air, mister.”
He’s grinning as he drops his head back against the headrest. “I don’t need air if I’ve got you.”
This sits on my chest.
A heavy, delicious weight.
I’m in love.
With an incredible man.
“You never said where we’re going,” I say, leaning my head against his shoulder, placing my hand over his heart. “Not that it matters. I’ll go anywhere you go.”
His inhale is rocky. When he brushes his lips over the crown of my head, he whispers, “Thank you, universe.”
