a bul in a
china shop around him. Worse, she felt itchy from the inside out. Not a
good way to feel about a fel ow operative. She wasn’t naïve. Lexi knew
exactly what her problem was. She had to nip that in the bud, PDQ.
Turquoise water, capped with lacy foam, lapped at the sugary expanse of
the beach for miles as they stepped off the path by silent agreement. It
was as though she and Alex were the only two people left on the planet.
“Did you know Brazil has over forty-five hundred miles of beach—”
Alex stopped, fal ing behind. “Lexi?”
She paused to glance over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Shut up.”
She hadn’t seen him move, but he was right there. She glared up at him.
“Don’t tel me to sh—”
His mouth crushed down on hers, stunning Lexi speechless. For a
nanosecond, she tried shoving him away, both hands flat on his chest.
Then the thought evaporated like fog on a sunny day as the heat of his
mouth made her brain turn to mush. All she could do was feel. And savor.
And want.
His mouth was hard and demanding and tasted of the coffee he’d drunk
after lunch. The flavor of him, the feel of his mouth on hers was
everything she wanted, and everything that she didn’t. Helpless to fight
both him and herself, she met his tongue with her own and felt a rush of
liquid heat surge through her body.
Their kiss was stunningly elemental. Male. Female.
Lost in the taste and feel of his mouth, Lexi freed her hands from between
their chests, sliding them around his waist as he tugged her body flush
against his. She fisted the back of his ridiculous lime green T-shirt,
wanting to climb him. Wanting to . . . No. Wait—What—
She shoved at him—hard—until an entire inch separated them. Her mouth
felt swol en and it took a few seconds for her eyes to regain focus. Every
31
Night Shadow
instinct inside her screamed to run like hel . The best she could do was
stiffly uncurl her fingers from her death grip on the back of his shirt and
suck in lungfuls of air and try to keep from falling over.
She had to be very clear in her reprimand at his unprofessional behavior.
“That was inexusab—”
“Incredible.” His eyes held hot green promise. She couldn’t look away.
“Against the rules,” she told him firmly. The rules were safe ground.
Familiar ground. “Section C, part four-A, clearly state—”
His mouth caught hers again. Hungry. Aggressive. He nibbled her lower
lip, making her whimper helplessly as she hung onto him as if her life
depended on it. No. No. No. No! She tore her mouth from his again, her
chest heaving, her breath raw. “Sexual harassment is defined as any loo—
”He took advantage of her open mouth, kissing her as if she hadn’t said
anything between one kiss and the next. She was sure she had. Hadn’t
she? His sneaky tongue made the heat in her bel y spiral higher, and
rational thought become impossible.
Squeezing her eyes shut against the agony of pul ing her mouth away
from his, Lexi sucked in a gasp of salt-laden air. The hard plane of his
chest felt so damned good against her now-sensitized nipples. She wasn’t
fighting him. She was having a battle royal with herself. She had to win.
“Any look, comment or action with sexual overtone—”
He blew out a breath, half exasperation, half laugh, then swooped his
mouth back onto hers, combing his fingers through her hair, cupping the
back of her head.
His kisses could become addictive. If she let them. Which she wouldn’t . .
. again, the thought dissipated like mist as he took a long, deep kiss that
had her helplessly responding. When he lifted his mouth from hers this
time, she fol owed him for a second before catching herself.
“Implication, subtext—” She was breathing as if she’d run a marathon.
Her breasts ached for the touch of his hands. Moisture pooled between her
legs. When his lips touched hers again, Lexi ripped her mouth from the
onslaught, then pressed her
china shop around him. Worse, she felt itchy from the inside out. Not a
good way to feel about a fel ow operative. She wasn’t naïve. Lexi knew
exactly what her problem was. She had to nip that in the bud, PDQ.
Turquoise water, capped with lacy foam, lapped at the sugary expanse of
the beach for miles as they stepped off the path by silent agreement. It
was as though she and Alex were the only two people left on the planet.
“Did you know Brazil has over forty-five hundred miles of beach—”
Alex stopped, fal ing behind. “Lexi?”
She paused to glance over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Shut up.”
She hadn’t seen him move, but he was right there. She glared up at him.
“Don’t tel me to sh—”
His mouth crushed down on hers, stunning Lexi speechless. For a
nanosecond, she tried shoving him away, both hands flat on his chest.
Then the thought evaporated like fog on a sunny day as the heat of his
mouth made her brain turn to mush. All she could do was feel. And savor.
And want.
His mouth was hard and demanding and tasted of the coffee he’d drunk
after lunch. The flavor of him, the feel of his mouth on hers was
everything she wanted, and everything that she didn’t. Helpless to fight
both him and herself, she met his tongue with her own and felt a rush of
liquid heat surge through her body.
Their kiss was stunningly elemental. Male. Female.
Lost in the taste and feel of his mouth, Lexi freed her hands from between
their chests, sliding them around his waist as he tugged her body flush
against his. She fisted the back of his ridiculous lime green T-shirt,
wanting to climb him. Wanting to . . . No. Wait—What—
She shoved at him—hard—until an entire inch separated them. Her mouth
felt swol en and it took a few seconds for her eyes to regain focus. Every
31
Night Shadow
instinct inside her screamed to run like hel . The best she could do was
stiffly uncurl her fingers from her death grip on the back of his shirt and
suck in lungfuls of air and try to keep from falling over.
She had to be very clear in her reprimand at his unprofessional behavior.
“That was inexusab—”
“Incredible.” His eyes held hot green promise. She couldn’t look away.
“Against the rules,” she told him firmly. The rules were safe ground.
Familiar ground. “Section C, part four-A, clearly state—”
His mouth caught hers again. Hungry. Aggressive. He nibbled her lower
lip, making her whimper helplessly as she hung onto him as if her life
depended on it. No. No. No. No! She tore her mouth from his again, her
chest heaving, her breath raw. “Sexual harassment is defined as any loo—
”He took advantage of her open mouth, kissing her as if she hadn’t said
anything between one kiss and the next. She was sure she had. Hadn’t
she? His sneaky tongue made the heat in her bel y spiral higher, and
rational thought become impossible.
Squeezing her eyes shut against the agony of pul ing her mouth away
from his, Lexi sucked in a gasp of salt-laden air. The hard plane of his
chest felt so damned good against her now-sensitized nipples. She wasn’t
fighting him. She was having a battle royal with herself. She had to win.
“Any look, comment or action with sexual overtone—”
He blew out a breath, half exasperation, half laugh, then swooped his
mouth back onto hers, combing his fingers through her hair, cupping the
back of her head.
His kisses could become addictive. If she let them. Which she wouldn’t . .
. again, the thought dissipated like mist as he took a long, deep kiss that
had her helplessly responding. When he lifted his mouth from hers this
time, she fol owed him for a second before catching herself.
“Implication, subtext—” She was breathing as if she’d run a marathon.
Her breasts ached for the touch of his hands. Moisture pooled between her
legs. When his lips touched hers again, Lexi ripped her mouth from the
onslaught, then pressed her
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