An Eye For Danger (book 1)

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The man groaned in pain as I scraped my heel down his shin, a self-defense move the major had taught me during my field training.

“Damn it, Jules, I said calm down.”

With the sound of Sam's voice my body went slack. He then let go of my mouth and arms, allowing my feet to sink back to the ground. My back flattened against his chest, moving with his steady breath. Despite Sam’s crazy tactics, his arm felt like a safety belt at my waist now that I knew he wasn’t Troy.

I reached for the light switch, but he held back my arm.

“Just wait,” he whispered. "Wait and watch."

Footsteps approached. Sam bent beside me, watching the shadow step into the strip of light under the door and reveal golden brown dress shoes. I didn’t want to believe Stone had followed me, but those shoes were unmistakable. The door jarred, as if he'd leaned against it, listening. Sam held me still.

When the shoes clapped back to the restaurant, Sam loosened his hold. I leaned heavily against him, felt his breath at my cheek, his muscles at my back. I turned into his hold and pushed onto my toes, my fingers scaling the back of his neck, my mouth discovering his lips, enticing his response. He hesitated, mumbling my name, but I wouldn’t relent, pulling his lip between my teeth. Without the Kevlar vest, I felt him heave against my breasts, felt his moan sink into my bones. Every taste and sound seemed heightened in the darkness.

Then he plunged. His head tilted into a penetrating kiss, his hands clutching my ribcage, pulling me higher against his torso. He patted my jeans, as if looking for a gun. “Dress,” he mumbled. “Where’s the dress?”

Damn me for not following his instructions, not that we planned a bathroom seduction. He lifted me onto the handicap rail and pulled my legs around him, cupping my behind and pressing harder in all the right places. Sam’s mouth closed onto my shoulder, his hand searching up my sweater till his thumb alighted my nipple.

“Come home with me,” I whispered.

Unbuttoning my sweater, I drew his kisses down my neck and across the crown of my breast. My breathing grew shallow, urgent, my fingers fisting his thick hair. My fingers crawled under his sweatshirt as he increased pressure to my groin and merged his rhythm with mine. My body readied for a release I’d longed to feel, longed to offer him. But he was pushing me toward an indiscreet climax I suddenly didn’t want to experience in a bistro bathroom.

And in this position, my jeans weren’t budging. We were going nowhere fast.

“Sam, it’s no good, not like this.”

He grunted, nodding into my shoulder, one hand still groping my breast, his other holding up my thigh. I wrapped my arms around his neck, caressed his cheek with my lips, let his stubble chafe my skin.

“You could have stayed with me.”

“I wanted to.” He brushed his lips against mine. “God, I wanted so much from you.”

His kisses came hard, his motor revving too high till I pulled back.

“Follow me home, Sam.” My fingers lingered in his hair. “Be with me. Tonight, before I leave.”

“We can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

Sam bored his head into the wall, removed his other hand from my breast, and pulled my hands out of his hair. My toes were suddenly on the floor again. Not the response I'd expected.

Stepping back, Sam triggered the light. My hand jumped to shield my eyes, but he pulled my arm away, his weighted smile greeting me, his fingers following my jaw with a stroke that cooled me down when I was tense, heated me up when I was too cool.