The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(50)

He aggressively turned me around again to face him and his lips went straight for mine.

I didn't fight it. Not that I ever did. But this time something was different. I didn't want to fight it. That natural reaction to push him away that I have to fight with every single assignment was nowhere to be felt.

His kiss was strong, masculine, tasting of whiskey and Coke. It made my knees want to buckle.

What the hell is wrong with me? I thought. Could it be the alcohol?

That was ridiculous. On past assignments I had drunk three times as much as I had tonight and could have passed a roadside sobriety test with flying colors. No. There was something else happening here. Something inexplicable. And definitely terrifying.

There's certainly no rulebook for this job. At least not a published one. But if there were this would be on page one as the biggest misdemeanor of them all. The Golden Rule of fidelity inspections. As far as he's concerned you can't get enough of him and all the scandalous things he's doing to you. As far as you're concerned...you might as well be numb from the forehead down. You don't feel, you don't get involved, and you certainly don't enjoy.

But there was something about Parker's hands and his mouth. They were intoxicating. My tolerance level was supposed to be off the charts, for alcohol and this kind of thing. But tonight I felt like an absolute lightweight. Getting drunk off of one dance. One touch. One amazing kiss.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in my ear.

I nodded. I didn't even have to say anything. And I was afraid that if I did, it would be something I would regret. And possibly something that might get me fired and my reputation as an honest professional destroyed.

Don't lead, just follow, I reminded myself. But one question kept repeating in my mind: If I enjoy it, does it still count?

He pulled me in front of him and walked close behind me, his arms wrapped around my body, his legs walking in unison with mine, his lips still continuing to send shivers down my back and into my toes.

I tried desperately to stay in character. Ashlyn is a pro at this. Ashlyn is not a stranger to leaving bars with random men. Ashlyn would giggle at his advances.

So I did.

"You smell incredible," he said, stopping his lips long enough to inhale my neck.

"What about your friends?" I asked, glancing in the direction of the bar where we had begun this runaway evening.

"They'll be fine," he assured me. "It's my bachelor party."

And it was those words that finally sobered me up. Instantly. Not because I was reminded that he was engaged to someone else and I was definitely crossing the line for being even remotely turned on by his touch, but because of what the words implied. "It's my bachelor party." My friends expect this of me. I would have cheated with anyone. You just happened to be there . . . twice.

"Are you okay with that?" he asked, most likely feeling my shoulders suddenly stiffen.

I immediately relaxed my body and slipped right back into character. I could slowly feel Ashlyn once again slide into the driver's seat. I ran one finger over his cheek and down the underside of his chin. "Of course. You're not married yet, are you?"

The numbness returned to my legs, then my hips, followed by my stomach, my arms, and my breasts. As we exited the front of the Palms Hotel, he turned me toward him and kissed my lips. Yep, those were numb again, too.

Everything was back to normal. Or so I hoped.



PARKER PLAYFULLY tossed me down onto the bed and practically fell on top of me. I moaned with pleasure as his hands massaged my thighs from the outside of my dress.

I braced myself for what was coming next. More kissing, more touching, more fake moans coming from my lips. But it didn't come. None of it. Without warning, his hands suddenly fell limp alongside my legs, and then eventually withdrew.

I wasn't sure what had happened. I searched his face for a clue. He was quiet, pensive, contemplative. He looked me in the eye, preparing to say something. Something important.

"Wait a minute," he began.

My first thought was that he was having doubts. That he might actually turn me down. The alcohol had worn off, something reminded him of his fiancée, whatever the reason... this unlikely candidate looked poised and ready to be one of the select few who passed the inspection.

I fought the smile that was attempting to penetrate my facade. The thought of someone passing was always exhilarating. Yes, it would mean my initial read on him was wrong, but this was hardly the job in which to be proud. Most of the time I practically prayed I was wrong.

"What's the matter?" I asked, naively.

"Something's not right," he replied.

My heart started to pound. This was it. It was really going to happen.

"Really?" The tone of my voice bordered on clueless.

"You've changed," he said, matter-of-factly.

My small glimmer of hope slowly started to melt into a very large pool of confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You were all about this on the dance floor, and then as soon as we left the club it was like you just shut off."

My stomach lurched as I began to realize what his hesitation was really about. It was about me. I had f*cked up. I had lost control... just for a second. And now I was about to sabotage an assignment because of it.

"I, um, I don't know what you're talking about."