Vengeance (Master's Protege 1) - Page 40

Too much everything.

My heart beats too fast, my breathing’s too ragged, my body’s on fire just from this one kiss. He tugs the lock of my hair wrapped around his fingers, pulling my head back, and when I gasp from the intensity of it, he takes advantage, moving to fully claim my mouth until there’s no room for escape.

I want everything. All of him. His hands on my breasts, his naked body pressed to mine, his length inside me. I want him in me.

I want to live in this moment, revel in it. Every fiber of me’s alive with excitement, need and desire rolling through me to the tips of my toes. I don’t know if I’m awake or dreaming, but if it’s a dream, I don’t want to wake. If I’m awake, I don’t want to fall asleep.

I squeeze my legs together as pressure builds between my thighs, a throbbing, burning need.

Something behind him blares like a foghorn. At first, he ignores it, but at the second raucous shriek, he pulls away. I stifle a whimper.

His goddamn phone.

“I have to take this.” He slams his phone on and smacks it to his ear. All I have to say is, whoever’s on the other end of that line better have something important to say or the both of us won’t think twice about murder.

“What?”

I sit up, awake, but can’t hear a thing.

He curses. “I’ll be right there.”

When he hangs up his phone and glares, I know his anger isn’t meant for me. He doesn’t like to be interrupted on a good day, never mind now.

“I have to go. We got a lead on another case we’re working on.” He runs a hand through his hair. I’ve never been so jealous of another person’s fingers. “I need you to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we will investigate further, and you get your shooting lesson.”

He turns to leave. I feel cold and hot all at once as I watch him. Before he goes, he looks over his shoulder at me.

“I’m sorry.” I don’t know if he’s apologizing for leaving or for kissing me. Maybe both. “Shooting range is opposite the pool. Meet me there at seven.”

The door shuts with finality.

I stare at it for a moment, wondering if everything that just happened was my imagination. My fingers roam to my lips, and my eyes flutter closed.

I did not imagine that.

He kissed me. He kissed me, and I want more.

Did I just sell my soul to the Devil?

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cain

It’s two o’clock in the morning when I finally get to bed. I signed off on a job involving several of my men, because I want them back here as soon as possible. Every other job we’re working on needs to be finished, and quickly, and thank fuck we’re closing in on one deal so I can free up more of my men. Tomorrow—Jesus, today—we need to make headway on finding Skylar.

But my mind’s on the woman across the hall from me. It’s a damn good thing I got the call when I did, or who knows where we would’ve ended up.

I don’t regret it, though. I want her to know that I want her.

I whip off my clothes and climb into bed, ignoring the raging hard-on I still have from kissing her earlier. I need sleep before tomorrow. I punch my pillow, frustrated that she isn’t beside me.

I close my eyes shut tight, willing myself to sleep. My body’s fatigued, but it’s something I’m so used to, I’ve trained myself to stay awake. Once, when I was stationed outside of Paris before the fiasco with the gendarmerie, I stayed awake for thirty-six hours straight, waiting for news from the White House. When I finally heard what I needed to and dozed off, we were under attack an hour later.

I’m no stranger to lack of sleep. Still, I need some or I’ll be useless tomorrow.

I go over the day in my mind. Her coming to me, asking for the job.

I asked Armand to make her think it was her idea to come here. And he did. How was I to know he planned on fucking risking her life to do it?

I interrogated the shit out of him but didn’t let him go until today. I’ll have to follow up with Joe. My mind’s focused on all things Violet.

Violet.

I need her out of my mind. I have to find Skylar, but we have no fucking leads.

Tomorrow, I’ll burn the city of Salem to the ground to find her.

I close my eyes and see vivid violet eyes.

I remember the way her mouth tasted like berries and cream, fresh, sweet, and decadent. I remember the way her skin felt in my hands, warm, silk-wrapped seduction that I wanted to worship. I remember the way she yielded when I touched her, the only softness she may ever succumb to.

Tags: Jane Henry Master's Protege Suspense
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