As soon as we hit the open air, I mumbled, “You know that was all kinds of hot, right?”
He snorted, his reaction making me smile and relaxing my tense shoulders.
“Is that right?”
“Yep. If we weren’t in this car park right now, I’d totally be sucking your...” I glanced at him, offering him a smirk. “…tongue.”
His laugh was loud and infectious. It lit my stomach and made warmth dance in my chest. “Probably best to wait till later.” He cut his eyes to me as we reached his car.
I grinned widely. “I promised myself earlier that I’d wait till we were in the car.” And that was pushing it. I was hot for the guy. Big time. And while I constantly warred with myself about him being a distraction to me, and vice versa, and that we should wait… blah blah blah… that was exactly how my internal discussion went. I zoned myself out, telling myself to get over it.
Perhaps not the sagest of advice, but I convinced myself that sometimes my rash decisions paid off. Plus, how rash really was this thing between us?
Thatch pulled his sunglasses on and shook his head at me. I was sure he was also surveying the area to see if I could follow through with minimum risk. “Get your arse into the car.”
I scrambled in as soon as the doors unlocked, keeping my belt off and facing him in expectation. As soon as he sat, I reached out and tugged his glasses off, needing to see the heat in his eyes.
I wasn’t disappointed.
Our mouths met in a clash of tongues and groans. Both of us knew it couldn’t last long. Urgency swept through me as our mouths pressed against each other’s, moving together in perfect rhythm, like his mouth was made to connect with mine.
He broke away before I did. A protest threatened to fall out of my mouth when my eyes connected with his. Immediately I clamped my mouth shut. Heat swirled in his gaze. In response, my lips lifted.
“What?” His question was low and breathy.
“You want me.”
If he’d asked me that, I would have probably given a wise-arse remark. Instead, he simply said, “Yes.”
My smile in place, I flicked my gaze to his before leaning in and pressing my mouth against his in a brief kiss. As I pulled away, I said, “That’s good. It means I can keep coping with blue-ball kisses.” I tugged the seat belt and locked it into place.
“Blue-ball kisses?” Amusement lifted his words.
“Yep. Blue-ball kisses. Every damn time, and that’s okay.” I gave a small one-shoulder shrug even though there was no hiding how affected I was. Not in the confined space and with our senses on high alert.
When he remained quiet and still hadn’t started the engine, I peered over at him. He was studying me, his focus intense.
“What?” I asked.
“Just wondering if the blue balls pose more or less of a distraction.”
I sighed, understanding his meaning completely. “Screwed if I know.”
He tapped his fingers on the wheel, an unusual tell from Thatch who rarely gave anything away. Unless he’s with me. The thought took me by surprise as I registered the truth of it.
“It’s either ‘let’s just hold back until this nightmare case is put to rest and risk blue balls pushing us to such despair that we end up only thinking about burying our dicks into each other,’ or ‘screw all that, let’s get down and dirty, potentially putting the both of us at risk as it means not only will we be thinking of what that feels like, but it means that we’ve taken this to the next level and could possibly put an innocent at risk to save the other?’” I gasped for air after spouting all that at him.
His eyes were wide, and I was sure I’d rendered him speechless until he said, “So you put some thought into this then?”
I gave a humourless laugh. “Only since the night we met.”
For the barest of seconds, his mouth gaped before he clamped it shut.
“Right! Already it’s eating into our time where we should be back working out our next move and what the hell Brent is playing at.” The reality uncurled in my gut, leaving an unpleasant feeling in its wake. “I agree, it’s shit and a bit of a catch-22 situation.”
He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I hate that you’re right.”
I appreciated his honesty. Didn’t like it, but what was a guy to do? The only alternative was to stop anything more from happening, and there was no way I was going to suggest that possibility. Call me a selfish dick, but yeah… I was a selfish dick. Swallowing back my frustration, I offered him a small smile. “We’ll figure it out.” My words came out more certain than I felt. “We’d best head back.”
He nodded, strapped in, and pulled away.
The drive went by with us dissecting Brent’s intent as well as discussing a file that Kent had found from the night we’d taken in Doc Evil, who we were relieved to discover was a major player. While the latter was a boon, it didn’t mean that operations would close, not with the corrupt organisation having so many fingers in so many damn pies.
“I’m going to meet with Kent and discuss a few ways to keep tabs on your good friend,” Thatch said as we entered the building.
I raised my brows at that. “Are you able to do that? Legally I mean?”
His grin was disarming, and it took all my strength not to do a happy sigh that it was directed at me. “One of the many wonderful things about flying under the radar is that we’re not always expected to play by the rules. How our operation runs has always been very clear: we pass through the
