Page 113 of Rogue Mission
But apparently I was wrong.
“Jesus! Cover that shit up.” Walton screws up his face, covering his eyes when Justice bursts into the kitchen.
I double over, holding my stomach, a fit of laughter hitting me.No! My ribs can’t take it.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Justice stands there, not even the least bit self-conscious that he’s completely naked.
But why would he be embarrassed?
He’s ripped and well above average in the…um…tool department.
I stand up, letting myself take a look, even though Walton is still grumbling, covering his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, my throat a little rough from all the screaming.
Justice crooks a finger at me. “Next time. You wake me.”
I nod. Pretty sure I’ll do anything he asks.
When I reach his side of the kitchen, I stop just short of touching him. “Did you sleep well?” I ask, quiet and teasing.
“How about you?” He turns the question back on me.
I nod. “I’ve got a little kink in my back.”
Walton groans. “For the love of god. You two. No wonder she’s got a fucking kink in her back. You’d think you were trying to break the house down.”
Justice notches a finger under my chin, lifting until we’re eye-to-eye, close enough for me to see the gold laced through his brown irises.
My heart quakes. The breath catching somewhere around my ovaries.
“Head back upstairs.”
My tongue slips out, coasting over my bruised bottom lip. “Yes, sir.”
He swallows roughly enough for me to hear, and I duck around him, taking the stairs two at a time.
I don’t know what happens downstairs, their voices are too low, but Justice’s footfalls are heavy as he ascends the stairsfast.Maybe three at a time.
He steps into the doorway—naked with his face taut with hunger.
When I lift the T-shirt over my head, his breathing speeds, loud enough for me to note the rate.
Grazing that dark brown, very hungry gaze over me, he says, “We have an hour, tops.”
“Darn. I’m not sure if you can?—”
He kicks the door shut, and grabs me before I can finish teasing him. This time he tosses me on the mattress on my back.
“You doubt me?”
It’s a growly tease that sends wild shivers all over me.
I’m grinning at the ceiling, imagining what delicious things he’s going to do to me.
He jerks my pants open, rips them down my legs—panties too—and exhales hard.
“Fuck, angel. You’ve got handprints on you from last night.”
