“You mean you haven’t already?” I ask, grabbing the bag from Brooks as he bears me back to the bonfire.
“You have no idea what you’re in for with me,” he growls, “but you’ll find out soon enough. Brace yourself, babe.”
I don’t even bother trying to come up with a response to that. I give in to the insane, delicious moment, and swear to let the night take me where it will. And as we approach the rollicking chaos of the party once again, I admit—I’m coming around to this undercover thing. In a big way.
Chapter Eight
Warm sunlight plays across my cheek as my fuzzy brain drifts lazily back to consciousness. I keep my eyes closed tightly, granting myself a few more moments of sleep. No need to rush, especially when my brain seems to have been soaked in a barrel of whiskey.
I press into the huge, sculpted body beside me in bed, savoring the feel of bare skin against me. Two thick arms are wrapped around my slender body, and a scruff cheek presses against my own. Vaguely, I notice a firm hand cupping my breast. It’s a protective, not an aggressive gesture. But when I let my eyes flutter open to investigate, a strangled yelp escapes my throat.
“What the—where—?!” I cry out, sitting bolt upright in bed. Not my bed, thank you very much. A bed I’ve never seen before. In a room I’ve never seen before. I whip around to examine my unexpected bedmate.
Now him I’ve seen before.
“Morning, Red,” Brooks smiles sleepily, eyes barely open in the early sunlight. “Slept well, I take it?”
I leap out of bed, staring at the shirtless god before me. I have no recollection of falling asleep beside him last night. I run my hands all over my body, and find that I seem to be fully clothed. Well, as fully clothed as I ever was last night.
“Brooks,” I say, forcing myself to be calm, “where the hell are we?”
“We’re at the clubhouse,” he shrugs, rolling onto his back, “enjoying a good night’s sleep. Or we were. Come back to bed, babe. It’s cool that we’re using this room.”
“Cool is not the word I’d use,” I hiss back, shoving my fingers through my hair. “I totally blacked out last night.”
“Yeah you did,” he laughs, shaking his head, “You party hard. I appreciate that in a woman. Relax, would you? We had a great time.”
“How great of a time?” I demand, terrified of his answer.
“What do you mean, how...?” he trails off, spotting the anxious look on my face. “Are you asking...if we fucked?”
“To cut to the chase, yes,” I reply.
Brooks stares at me, his brows furrowed with indignation. “Do you honestly think I would fuck a girl after she blacked out?” he demands. “What kind of a sick fuck do you think I am, Red?”
His anger makes me take a step back. “I...I don’t know...” I say. “Things were getting pretty hot between us—”
“Yeah, they were,” he says, throwing off the covers and rising to his feet, “And then you had a few too many drinks, and I decided to look after you for the rest of the night. I mean, I could have left you out in the bar to get carted off by any old boozed up brother. Would you have preferred that?”
“Of course not,” I mutter, feeling embarrassment rising in my cheeks, “I shouldn’t have assumed that—”
“Damn right you shouldn’t have assumed,” Brooks spits, stepping up to me. His tapered, finely tuned torso is close enough to touch, but I don’t dare. He’s furious that I thought the worst of him, it’s odd to see him so offended. For the first time since meeting Brooks, I’m actually scared of what he might do.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe, looking up at those fierce green eyes, “I hardly know you, Brooks. I was taken off guard by waking up here. There are a lot of assholes in the world who wouldn’t have stopped last night just because—”
“I’m a lot of things, Keira,” he growls, towering over me. “I’m a loner. I’m an outlaw. Some would even call me a criminal. But I am not one of those assholes.”
I stare up at him, moved by his vehemence. “I believe you,” I whisper.
“You’d better,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “I live by a code, Keira. We all do, around here. I said I’d protect you from the rest of the guys, and I will. You’re my girl now. You’re safe with me.”
“I know,” I breathe, resting my hands on the inked panes of his chest.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to have you every which way just as soon as I can,” he goes on, grabbing me by the hips. Even in the light of day, he can turn me on in a heartbeat. All I want is to let my hands skirt down across his cut abs, down to that perfect length I’ve dreamt about...
But duty calls.
“I know this is kind of lame, but...I have to go to work, Brooks,” I laugh lightly, “And so do you.”
“Work can wait,” he says, lowering his lips to the crook of my neck. “I’ll give you a lift back to the penthouse. Just as soon as I’ve fucked you dirty...”
A groan of want builds in my throat. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before. Never craved someone’s touch like it was a drug. But just like a drug, I know Brooks’ touch will get me hooked, and fast. I have to keep this physical. Fleeting. The case depends on it. I force myself to think of the case, of my job, as I slip out of Brooks’ embrace.
“Soon,” I breathe, pulling my hair into a messy bun. I try and ignore the throbbing between my legs, but it’s no use. I’ll be jonesing for Brooks all day.
“Fine,” he says, gritting his teeth. I can see his manhood pressing through his jeans, stiff and ready. For me. “But soon can’t come soon enough.”
“You’re telling me,” I mutter.
By some herculean effort, I manage to tear my eyes away from his carved face, his amazingly balanced body, the scrawls of ink and dark brown curls. I gather my things, relieved that I at least remembered my purse—and gun—through last night’s shenanigans. For good measure, I snatch up a tee shirt of Brooks’ as well. My sexy party outfit won’t quite cut it in the light of day.
I don’t even dare to steal one last kiss from Brooks before squaring my shoulders and preparing myself for the most epic walk of shame in the history of the world.
Chapter Nine
As I step out of the taxi and hurry into the FBI field office, I hold my head up high and ignore the stares of my new coworkers. There was no time to stop off home before coming in to work, so the entire office gets to see my take on morning-after chic. My black skinny jeans, sky high stilettos, and smudged makeup leave very little to the imagination, as far as what I got up to last night. Thank god I’ve at least got Brooks’ tee shirt draped over my crop top. I try to ignore how even the lingering smell of him gets me worked up. The last thing I need is to spend the morning fantasizing about my bad-boy-almost-lover.