Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(18)

One touch of her perfect skin and I almost came in my pants. Every inch of her skin I’ve gotten to see is unmarred. I imagined myself running my tongue along the same path. I’d spend hours doing nothing but tasting her, kissing her, and then I’d claim her. She’ll ruin me for all women, I can just tell.

Charlie isn’t the kind of woman you move on from. She draws you in with the brightness of her sun and then leaves you blind. There’s something deep and dark inside of her. She’s trying to keep it locked down, but I can see it in her eyes.

“So, where are we heading?” she asks.

She doesn’t know I have the private jet. It’s not as if we can fly commercial. I do need to fly out of a military base, though, to avoid customs. The number of favors I had to call in isn’t even funny. We need to be at Andrews Air Force Base before one in the morning.

“We’ll talk after the party,” I inform her. I don’t know if someone here is watching us. Considering she was tailed after leaving the agency, I’d bet my ass there are ears. This city is full of corruption, and it’s always the innocent looking ones. Hell, no one would suspect a woman like Charlie would be an agent.

She nods. “I get it. You should mingle.”

“I’ll stick with you.” My hand presses against her back and her muscles clench. I love knowing my touch creates an involuntary reaction. It’s a huge ego boost that as good as she is at her job, when it comes to me—she sucks.

“Of course you will,” she mutters under her breath.

“Dance with me.”

She gives me the evil eye but takes my hand. “I’m only doing this because we have time to kill. Touch me wrong one time, and I’ll make you pay.”

I laugh at her empty threat. Even though I have no doubt she’d try . . . it’ll never happen. I’m on guard with this woman. Takes the term sleep with one eye open to a whole new level.

Out on the dance floor, I pull her close and we get lost in the movement. Her body presses against mine in all the right places, and I fight my dick not to embarrass me. She rests her head against my shoulder as I survey the room. The party seems a little too pricey for my tastes, but it seems to be going well.

“See anything?” she asks without moving her head.

“Nope. Your mother has a huge grin though.”

“She’s probably already naming our children.”

I stiffen, and I’m sure she notices. “Umm . . .” I stammer for words.

“Relax,” she half laughs. “We’ll never have sex, so there will be no children.”

Charlie lifts her blue eyes to mine, and my chest tightens. Something about this girl makes my head spin. Her talk of kids didn’t make me pause because I’m afraid of commitment or kids. It was because I could see it. I could see a life with her, or at least a shit ton of fun.

We dance through another two slow songs while the world goes on around us, but all I see is her. She’s one of those women I have to look at. I can’t believe that someone like her exists. Charlie is an enigma—one I plan to make mine. I watch the men rip their gazes away from her when I catch them. I successfully convey my message without having to say a word, Yeah, step the f*ck off, motherf*cker. I’ll rip your arms off and feed them to you if you try to touch her.

Her hands rub up and down absently as we dance. My fingers rake the length of her open-back dress. I’m gonna get hard again if she keeps this up. Needing to stop before I create a rather embarrassing situation, I push her back slightly. “Come on, let’s mingle. I need a drink.”

We step off the dance floor, rejoin her brother, and spend time getting to know each other. I like Dominic. He’s a stand-up guy who chooses to work around a constant state of scandal but doesn’t engage. You can see the protectiveness he feels for Charlie. I don’t blame him. I would kick anyone’s ass who looked at my sister. Unfortunately, I only have Garrett and he can take care of himself.

The closest thing I have to protect is Aarabelle. And God help that girl when she steps into the dating world. Between her father, stepfather, and two godfathers, any boy who comes around her is royally screwed.

Charlie and I circle the room. I keep my hand on her the entire time as if she’ll vanish. She is a spook after all.

The waiter passes us twice. Each time she grabs a glass, downs it, and grabs another. I watch her smile, hug, and then almost glow as she floats through the room. Charlie is polite, but cautious. She’s aware, but seems to be enjoying herself. She starts to sway a little as she tips her glass back, emptying every drop.

“I’ll wind up carrying you out of here soon.” I’m only half joking.

“You wish. I outdrank a Russian mob boss once. However—” She smiles. “You should play along. If I’m drunk, my mother will want me to leave. This is my plan.” She slurs her words slightly.

“I think you should stop drinking because you’re lit.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper, Twilight.” She steps forward and grabs yet another drink. “I’m not even buzzed. I’m just feeling the fun.”

“You said ‘feeling the fun’ and you don’t think you’re drunk?”

She rests her head against my chest. “I thought you liked fun?”

“I’d prefer you lucid when I f*ck you unconscious.”