There was a low mewling sound. Off in the distance. Was it in the distance? No, that was me.
His moan answered mine as he rolled me on top. I gasped. Because that was a better position, and I could move my hips just how I needed.
His hands fisted in my hair as he dragged his lips from mine. "That's it. Move how you want."
"What are we doing?"
"I have no fucking idea, but don't stop."
Not that I could. Because this man… He was everything I didn't want. He was everything dangerous. He was a criminal, and I was an Interpol agent, and I could not stay away from him if I tried. Obviously, I was mentally deficient. That was the only answer. But that did not stop me from leaning forward again at his insistence. But he stopped me just before our lips connected, and his gaze met mine. A dark ring showed around his irises now, his pupils dilated. But I knew what he was doing, he was asking my permission. He was waiting for me to pull back, to push him away, to tell him to stop, to tell him to unhook us so I could leave with whatever information he'd stolen. But instead of doing all of those things, I leaned in. I kissed him.
Because you're a fool.
And then it was teeth and tongue and lips and moaning and groaning, and his hand was on my ass, squeezing and cupping me, rocking me against his erection. And I couldn't stop. I moaned low, and he grunted. He tore his lips from mine and traced kisses against my jaw. "You're so fucking hot. Just like that. Keep moving."
And then… Splash. Ice cold on my back. And it shocked me. I blinked and turned away from him. "What the hell?"
He blinked in surprise as well. And then, his lips turned into a grin and he laughed. More splashing.
Oh God, it was raining. What the fuck? No, not rain, sprinklers.
I tried to detach from him, but again, the ripping sound of my dress stopped me.
"Fuck."
He rolled me over so that he was above me once again, protecting me from most of the splatter. And he rocked his hips again.
I should be fighting this, fighting him, but I'd been so close and…
"You worried someone's going to find you? All wet and rumpled?"
The right answer was yes. Yes, worried. Yes, concerned. Yes, couldn't go back to the party. Yes, what did you steal?
But my response was a shake of my head.
"That's my good girl. You like the idea we could get caught, don't you?"
Was that true? I’d never once cared for anything public before. Outside of simple pecks and handholding in public, I'd never been with anyone who was particularly affectionate in public. This wasn't affection though. This was raw, hungry; this was something else.
His hands still fisted in my hair, he rubbed his nose against mine, his lips barely a whisper. "You like being dirty with me, don't you?"
"I don't like you at all."
"I know. I don't like you either." And then he rocked his hips again.
"East."
"Agent Kincade."
"Why do you say my name like that?"
"Because there's something so sexy about it."
He rocked his hips again, and God, I was so close, just right there. And then his lips took mine once more, kissing me. As the sprinklers pelted us with ice cold water, I was soaked through. But I was so hot. My skin was burning as he rocked into me over and over, and his one hand scooped under my ass and lifted me closer. And fuck, God, the sparks, a shuddering heat exploded in my body, and I threw my head back. He tore his lips from mine and dragged them along my jaw and then my neck. And then he grunted. "Fuck. Fucking hell. You're so fucking sexy. I want to watch you come again and again. Somewhere private next time. So I can take my time and watch you. And torture you. And drag it out."
And then his body was lifting from mine. The hook on the front of his suit slipped off of the material of my dress, and he was standing. My dress was in disarray, hiked up, exposing my black silk thong. And his gaze went straight to my splayed-open thighs. Gently he pulled my dress down, and I couldn't move. I just stared up at the night sky. The mist of the sprinklers blocked out some of my view, but I could see the stars up above judging me. And then he did the one thing I didn't expect. He reached a hand down and helped me up.
"Follow me. I'll get you a jacket. But you're going to have to go to your car."
"What did you steal?"
"I can't tell you that."
He marched up the twenty meters to where I’d dropped my shoes when I jumped at him and picked them up. And then he helped me down the hill.
I winced when my feet hit the cobblestones, and he picked me up. Easily. Him dressed in all black. Balaclava on. Me dressed in black, soaking wet.
He carried me through the gardens and across the expansive grounds, to the side exit gate and an SUV. Black.
I frowned. Were the plates diplomatic? No. Government? Not exactly. He went around to one side, opened a door, and pulled out a blanket of some sort. He brought it to me and wrapped it around my shoulders. My teeth chattered. "Who are you?"
"I'm East Hale. But you know that. Or do you make out with strangers often?"
"I did not snog you. You snogged me."
He chuckled. "If you need to tell yourself
