Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(52)

Jack grabbed the phone out of his pocket, saw it was Wilkins, and answered. “Talk to me.”

“We’re all clear.”

“What’d you find out?” he asked, not yet abandoning his post at the door.

“The power is out for the entire block,” Wilkins said. “I had our office patch me through to ComEd, who said they’ve got a power line down. They’ve got a team working on it as we speak.”

Jack strode over to the window, looked outside, and saw that the buildings around them were dark as well. He spoke into the phone in a low voice. “Any chance this is a setup?”

“Not likely. I talked to both the director in charge of the district and the foreman on site. It’s an underground power line—an overnight construction crew got sloppy trying to fix the water pipes to that church across the street and dug a little too deep. It’s just a coincidence, Jack.”

Through the window, Jack could see the construction crew outside the church and several ComEd trucks. He looked over at Cameron. Her eyes stayed with him as she listened to his end of the conversation. “Thanks. We’ll meet you back at the VIP room.”

“Where are you guys now?” Wilkins asked.

“In an office on the third floor. We should be down in just a few minutes.” He hung up the phone and holstered his gun. “We’re clear.”

Cameron exhaled. “Okay. Good. That was definitely not on the agenda for tonight.” She self-consciously smoothed her skirt and picked up her purse. “So we’re going to rejoin the others, then?”

“Yes.”

She headed toward the door and Jack followed her. She reached for the handle, then paused and looked over her shoulder. The sweater slipped off her shoulder once again.

“Thank you for—” She stopped. “What’s wrong?”

Jack stood behind her, staring at that damn gray strap. He caught himself wondering what was softer, the silk or her skin. If he was a smart man, he wouldn’t dare to even think about getting the answer to that.

He reached out to her anyway.

He took hold of her sweater and gently pulled it over her shoulder. He stopped when he reached the strap of her camisole. “This thing has been driving me crazy all night,” he murmured.

Cameron’s voice sounded a little shaky. “I . . . think I ruined it the last time I did laundry.”

The air hung thick between them.

“We should go,” Jack finally said. He needed to get out of that office before he did something he regretted. Something they both regretted.

She nodded, turned back, and unlocked the deadbolt. She grabbed the doorknob . . . then stopped.

Jack waited for her to open the door. When she didn’t, he reached around her, placing his hand over hers. “Cameron, we have to get out of here,” he said in a guttural voice.

“I know.”

Still, neither of them moved. Jack took his hand off hers and moved it to the deadbolt.

He knew he shouldn’t.

But he locked the door anyway.

He heard Cameron inhale unsteadily. Before he could give it a second thought, he brushed her long hair off her shoulder and bent his head to kiss her collarbone.

He got his answer. Silk didn’t hold a f**king candle to her skin.

WITH A SOFT moan, Cameron sank against Jack’s chest. She briefly wondered what she was doing, and why. Then she felt Jack’s lips burn a path along her neck and decided to table those issues for a moment.

His hands moved to her hips and she didn’t know if he spun her around or if she turned herself, maybe both, but suddenly she found herself facing him. She caught the hot glint in his eyes and reached for him just as his mouth came down on hers.

She expected Jack’s kiss to be hard, angry even, but instead it was just . . . wicked. He took his time, tasting her with his mouth, his lips, and his tongue. When his hand moved to the small of her back and pressed her closer, Cameron dropped her purse to the floor and threaded her fingers through his thick hair.

They slammed against the door.

Jack’s hand moved to her chin as his mouth explored hers roughly. Sensing his need for control but not yet willing to give it to him, Cameron cupped his face with her hands and slowed the kiss. Setting the pace, she teased him, biting gently at his bottom lip and sliding her tongue lightly along his. She did it again, playing with him, taking charge.

He growled low in his throat, then grabbed her hands and pinned them against the door.

Too late she recalled that Jack Pallas was not a man to be trifled with.

He wound his tongue around hers in a kiss that was rich and drugging. He settled between her thighs, and Cameron felt his hard, thick erection pressing into her. He could hide nearly every emotion behind that wall of his, but his body betrayed him right then, telling her the only thing she needed to know.

He wanted her.

Heady with that knowledge, Cameron closed her eyes as Jack blazed a trail with his mouth along her throat. The scruff of his jaw scratched against her neck, an erotic sensation that set every nerve of her body on fire.

“Jack,” she whispered.

“Tell me,” he said in her ear.

This was a new side of Jack. Gone was the guarded, controlled exterior. For once, she was seeing . . . him.

Cameron strained against him, helpless with her hands pinned in his. “Let me touch you.” She needed to see—feel—more of him.