Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(48)

Rand didn’t get to just walk out of her life again without a fight. He couldn’t make her angry with him to appease his guilt about splitting again.

“Door’s unlocked.” She felt more than heard his voice, the brush of air, his body against her arm.

She let go of the key card and wrapped her arms around his waist.

He couldn’t make her be angry, and damn him, she wouldn’t hold onto the anger if he was bound and determined to use it against her.

Given the opportunity, she’d still strangle the life out of him, but she wasn’t going to argue. She wasn’t going to let him win that way. Yes, she understood that he had to go, that he had a job to do, but she was a big girl now. She got it. He didn’t have to burn bridges and go down in a blaze of guilt.

“What—”

“Shut up and hug me.”

He folded his arms around her, gently, always careful. Because to him she’d never stopped being that little girl tagging along behind him and Matt.

“If you pick a fight with me just to make yourself feel better about leaving, I’m going to shank you in your sleep, okay?” She wasn’t entirely joking. The only way she’d get one up on him, especially with a gimpy arm, was to jump him in his sleep.

He sputtered and laughed, his hands stroking her back.

She loved and hated the feel of his skin on hers, the memories it brought back. The way her body remembered his. Emotion wrapped around her throat, making it hard to breathe.

They were who they were, history, twisted feelings and all. Nothing between them would ever be simple or easily labeled.

He shifted against her until his mouth pressed to the top of her head.

Was this his version of an apology? Well, she’d take it. Because this time, she wasn’t going to let him walk away and never look back.

He might need to be this person, living in the shadows for the greater good, but he didn’t have to be alone, cut off from everyone. They could still have this. The spark hadn’t died in nearly ten years of silence; it wasn’t going to suffer from a little time apart. What that meant for her future, whatever they were, she didn’t know, but she’d figure out a way to be okay with it.

She leaned back, looking up at him, searching his face for some sign of emotion.

He brushed a wisp of hair off her cheek, smoothing it up behind her ear.

There was no easy way to explain them, what this was, and truth be told, she could worry about it later.

Sarah lifted up on her toes the same moment he dipped his head. Their lips only half connected, or maybe it was the strike of flesh on flesh.

He cupped the back of her head, turning her back to the door while his mouth found hers.

Combustible.

That was what they were.

She reached blindly for the door, finding the key card by touch. She pulled it out and shoved it back in, half listening for the beep. Rand’s hand tapped hers as he, too, reached for the handle.

Beep.

There.

Their hands tangled, pushing the lever down.

Rand pivoted, putting himself between her and the door, holding her at arm’s length. The need glittering deep within his gaze sparked a similar heat deep inside of her.

“Wait there,” he said.

For what?

He pivoted, ducking into the room.

Oh. Right.

Because they’d never be a normal couple.

She edged past the door after him, keeping an eye on the hall and Rand’s progress through the room.

She knew the moment he locked eyes on her what was going to happen next.

He stalked around the big, king-size bed, still rumpled from her nap. Sarah shrugged one shoulder out of the thin, cap-style sleeve.

He reached for her again, his big hand sliding around the back of her head, the other at her waist. His mouth was warm, soft. His tongue teased hers. He squeezed her to him.

No, things between them weren’t perfect and they never would be, but when they stopped talking they could be honest with each other. Their mouths said what they thought they needed to, but their bodies couldn’t lie.

He wanted her, and she wanted him.

Right here and now, it could be that simple.

She stroked her fingers over his cheek and grasped the front of his dress shirt with her other hand. The starched fabric crinkled, but under that, it was all Rand.

He tugged on the thin strap of fabric across her shoulder blades. That was the only thing holding the dress up. He must have gotten the single button through the hole. The dress gaped forward, gravity pulling it down.

Rand pushed her hands aside and tugged the dress, exposing her breasts. But only for a moment. He covered both with his hands, pressing her to the wall, his mouth against hers.

“You should tell me to stop,” he said.

“No.” She covered his hands with hers, relishing the feel of his touch, the press of his body.

He kissed her neck, across her collarbone. His thumbs swiped back and forth, fingers kneading her.

She leaned her head back, losing herself in the sensation of his mouth and hands, the way he made her lose her mind. She loved him. She hated him. She wanted to be with him. She couldn’t stand his presence. Things were complicated and uncertain, but what she knew, right here and now, was that she wanted this. For however long it lasted.

His lips wrapped around her nipple, his tongue flicking the stiff peak.

She gasped and dug her fingers through his hair, curling her toes. Need unfurled within her, an insistent hunger.