He mumbled something he hoped sounded intelligible and moved to step around her as Peyton did the same. Their feet tangled and she stumbled. He caught her arms to steady her at the same time she put her hands on his bare chest. She gazed up at him with mesmerizing eyes, her lips parting ever so slightly.
Before he could even process why this wasn’t a good idea, he bent his head and kissed her. Her lips were soft and sweet under his, and he buried his fingers in her long hair, wanting—needing—more. She tasted like minty toothpaste and strawberries, and the combination almost brought him to his knees.
Peyton moaned against his mouth, gliding her hands up his chest to grip his shoulders and hold on tight as she kissed him back. The realization she wanted him as much as he wanted her was like an intoxicating drug sending desire surging through his blood, and he let out a groan of his own as her tongue played a sexy game of hide-and-seek with his.
Under the towel, his cock pitched a tent, all set to make camp for the night.
Noah was sliding his other hand down to cup her ass so he could pull her closer when a high-pitched noise filled the house. It took him a minute to realize it was his cell phone ringing. As much as he wanted to say the hell with it, years of being a SEAL made him drag his mouth away from Peyton’s. Business before pleasure.
“I have to get that.”
She pulled back, looking a tad bit dazed as she nodded her head, even swaying a little on her feet as he hurried into the living room to grab his phone off the coffee table where he’d left it earlier.
“Bradley,” he said without looking at the name on the screen, too focused on getting his breathing back under control.
“Hey, Noah, it’s Sam. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
Noah cleared his throat as he looked down at the towel covering his crotch and almost laughed. “No. What’s up?”
Your cock, a smartass voice sounded off in his head. Fortunately, that voice wasn’t capable of talking to his Teammate at the moment.
“We just sat through another intel brief with Agent Woods,” Sam said. “He said some stuff I thought you might want to know about. Nothing earth shattering, but definitely interesting.”
Noah took a deep breath and let it out slowly, using the distraction of Sam’s voice to get himself back under control. He was only partially successful, but at least his bath towel wasn’t tenting as badly as before.
“According to Woods, Magpie and his organization are under tremendous pressure to come through with alternative sources of funding for their terrorist network. We’re talking huge amounts of money in a very short period of time. If he doesn’t come up with it, he may not live long enough to regret it.”
Noah snorted. “I guess the world of terrorists is one of those what-have-you-done-for-me lately kind of deals. Does Woods think you guys will get called out to go after him soon?”
There was a moment of hesitation before Sam answered. “Actually, Woods thinks Magpie might be somewhere in the U.S. involved personally in a quick score to get the heat off himself.”
It took less than a second for the implications of Sam’s words to sink in. Noah suddenly understood exactly why his buddy had called so late. He tried to tell himself the odds Magpie was here in southern California were slim. Somewhere in the U.S. wasn’t exactly very definitive and there were thousands of other places the man could go looking for a quick score.
Still, Sam was calling for a reason.
“You think Magpie may have been behind the break-in at Peyton’s house, don’t you?” Noah asked, praying he was wrong.
There was another long pause. “I don’t know, but as soon as Woods said that crap about Magpie possibly being in the country, Wes and Lane both looked at me. We were all thinking the same thing. And you were the one who pointed out how much money her book would be worth on the open market. Something like that might be enough to draw Magpie out of hiding.”
“You didn’t say anything about this to Woods, did you?” Noah asked.
He wasn’t sure if he was more worried about the information getting back to Chasen and headquarters or because they wouldn’t let him keep protecting Peyton.
“No way,” Sam said. “Not on just a hunch. And not when you’re personally invested in keeping Peyton safe.”
He was tempted to say it wasn’t like that, to insist there was no personal investment. But the kiss that had happened a few minutes ago made that a lie.
“But just because we didn’t say anything doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be extra careful,” Sam added. “The second you get the slightest hint this is anything more than some random book thief, call us for backup, okay?”
After promising he’d call if anything happened and making sure Sam would let him know if anything more definitive turned up with Magpie, Noah hung up. Then he stood there, worrying what the hell he should do next.
There was a part of him—located south of his belly button—that urged him to run after Peyton and get back to what they’d been doing a little while ago. Preferably on the nearest horizontal surface. But at the same time, a more intelligent part suggested that maybe he needed to slow down a little. Some of it had to do with this latest concern over Magpie and that the man might be behind the effort to steal Peyton’s book. If so, he’d try again and would likely stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Violence was a given.
But while Noah accepted that getting sexually—and probably emotionally—involved with the woman you were trying to keep safe wasn’t the brightest idea, he also accepted that wasn’t the thing making him hesitate at the moment. As insane as it sounded, there was something else going on between
