Page 20 of Rogue Mission
She lifts the left foot, offering it to me as her toenail polish catches the light. When my fingertip accidentally brushes her arch she laughs and shivers.
Heat builds across my chest until I start to sweat in a matter of seconds.
We're both tensely silent when I stand, towering over her.
I clear my throat. Twice.
“That was really nice.” She looks up into my eyes. Searching deep enough to rattle me.
“It's nothing.” Inside, I'm a tangle of sex hormones and self loathing. She's a job, I remind myself.
A difficult job.
I'm not in the market. That's been a solid promise to myself for a decade.
“I didn't want your feet to be at risk,” I snap too sternly.
“What about my heart?” she says with a saucy little smirk. “Getting down on a knee for me is pretty darn Cinderella.”
“I didn't realize hearts are so easily affected by shoes,” I lie.
She may as well have kicked me in the face back there too. My brain is off-line right now.
“I'm no Prince Charming. Come on,” I motion her forward with a grumble. “I'm a SEAL with a mission, which means it's time to move out.”
She follows me, sticking close. Together, we move like we've practiced it before, hustling down the steps until the sound of my boss's voice invades my head.
“JT, what were you two doing up there in the stairwell for so long. The heat signature was pretty cozy.”
“Fuck off,” I growl as he starts to laugh.
“What was that?” Rosalie asks, her smaller feet pattering on the steps behind me.
“Just a jackass whispering in my ear.”
We've gone down one landing when Beast's voice erupts in my ear. “Incoming! We've got two men approaching the back door of the building. Floodlights are coming on in the parking lot. Get out of that stairwell now! Over.”
I whirl around, “Go. Fast.”
A weird sensation hits me. The hairs on my arms rise up.
“What's that sound?” Rosalie stops suddenly, fear widening her eyes.
EIGHT
Jesus,whatis that sound?
“I don't know. Go. Just go!”
The low electrical hum surrounds us, reaching into my chest, squeezing a new level of fear into my veins.
“What's happening?” she whispers, her hair lifting around her face like they've got a life of their own. Static sparks off the ends.
“Don't touch?—”
Too late.
Her hand grazes the railing.
