Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(15)

He’d just stitched her arm, for fuck’s sake. She was injured. And here he was, about to stick his fingers inside her hot, sweet body.

“Sarah?”

“Yes!” She shifted her hips, pressing down.

It would be so easy to slide into her. But he couldn’t. Not like this. It wasn’t right, no matter what he wanted or how hard his dick was. He couldn’t do this and live with himself.

“No—stop.” Rand pulled his hands back and clasped her around the waist. It was the safest spot for them. He was so going to hell for this.

“What?” Sarah panted, her eyes narrow slits, lips glossy and swollen.

“We have to stop.” How he hated those words.

“What?” she said again, this time sharper.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” He picked up the towel in a vain attempt to cover her.

“You have got to be joking.” She didn’t take over the covering herself gig. If anything, the glare she leveled at him said one thing. Pissed.

“I’m not.” He draped the towel over her shoulders, covering all the important things. It was easier to tell her no when he didn’t have to see her breasts. “You’re hurt. This is a stressful time for you. I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret.”

There were enough regrets to his name to not add another.

She leaned forward and the towel slipped off one shoulder. She prodded his sternum with a finger, glare sharp enough to cut him.

“You don’t get to put this on me. If you want to stop, that’s on you. Not me.” She shifted, planting her weight on one foot, and swung her other leg over his lap until she stood next to him.

The fucking towel fell onto the floor.

She was a good foot, foot and a half taller than him sitting. Putting him at the perfect height to become better acquainted with her lovely breasts. Her partially dry hair hung down past her shoulders, and she tipped her chin up, as if she were daring him to do something. He just didn’t know what.

Goddamn, she was something else.

“You have two options.” Sarah placed a hand on one hip.

He’d been too busy to notice the neatly trimmed patch of curls covering her mound. Natural. Nice. Fuck, why was he paying attention to that?

“Yeah?” He swallowed and dragged his eyes up. He meant to look at her face. Really. But her boobs—man. Had they been that big when he’d seen her last? Round and full, with nipples— Stop. He had to stop now.

Rand shook his head and forced his gaze to hers.

She smirked. And why shouldn’t she? She was a beautiful woman fully aware of what was going on in his mind. How she affected him.

He couldn’t think about that too much, or he’d get jealous of some nameless, faceless fuckwit who’d had the brains to stick around and love her like a real man. Instead of someone like him, who left. Because he hadn’t been able to face what he’d done.

“What did you say?” Had she finished whatever gauntlet statement she was about to throw down?

“You have two options, Rand. I’m getting off one way or another. You can sit there and watch, or you can play along. Your choice.”

Whoa. What?

Sarah backed away from him, hands trailing down her torso, cupping her breasts. She was a woman completely confident in herself. In her sexuality. And he’d never wanted her more. This wasn’t the same sweet, innocent girl he’d idolized. She’d grown up. And what did he expect from her, anyway? She’d always gone for what she wanted. Even when it meant playing dirty. And Sarah was not being nice.

The back of her legs hit the bed and she sat down, knees opening wide, giving him a glimpse of the forbidden fruit he’d touched. He fisted his hands, trace amounts of her moisture still clinging to his fingertips. She leaned back on her left arm and covered her mound with her right hand.

Fuck. She wasn’t shy at all, not that “shy” was a word he’d ever associated with Sarah.

He was a bastard. A guilty son of a bitch. Was this any worse than what he’d already done? Matt hated him. Always would. Rand had wanted Sarah since she stopped wearing those matching kid outfits, though what he wanted from her had changed from innocent to…something much sweatier over time.

He couldn’t get guiltier. It wasn’t like Matt was ever going to forgive him. Why not take this one chance he was offered? Not having a chance with Sarah had always been one of his biggest regrets. He couldn’t keep her—but he could have her for a little while.





Chapter Four


Rand’s mind was made up before the thought solidified. He stood and shrugged out of the ruined shirt. He crossed the distance in one stride and covered her hand with his. Her hips lifted, and she continued to work her fingers in and out. She tipped her head back.

Maybe she meant to offer her mouth, maybe she didn’t.

He kissed her, thrusting his tongue past her lips and his finger into her pussy. Her fingers separated, spreading herself open. He pumped two digits deep into her channel, curling them within her. She whimpered at the intrusion, her breath catching.

Slick was an understatement. She arched into his palm, seeking more.

She grasped the waistband of his jeans, yanking at his belt. Somehow, the minx got his pants undone with one hand while he was knuckle-deep in her. The woman had untapped talents. She closed her hand around his cock through the fabric of his underwear, the heat of her palm searing his flesh.