On The Rocks
herself not to look away. After all, she
still had the gun, even if the rage that fueled her these long
years was temporarily confused.
    The O his mouth made melted into a hint of a
smile. Eyes locked on hers, he flicked out his tongue and licked
the tip of the pistol. Then he followed up with a gentle kiss to
the same spot.
    Her abs tightened, and she fought the urge
to press her thighs together. The tongue flick and kiss combo?
Exact thing he used to do to a veeery specific spot between
her legs. The temptation to let those delicious memories take over,
coupled with her Xander-imposed “no touchy” rule, almost made her
forget she hated the guy.
    But some things were just unforgivable.
    She slammed down her horny and cocked her
head. “You always were a sick fuck.”
    Lennox sank his teeth into his lower lip. “I
was the best fuck of your life, baby.”
    True.
    Just not for the reasons he thought…
    “Sometimes,” he breathed, “I replay every
moment we were together in my head. It’s a sweet torture…
remembering all your spots and not having you there… all those
delicious little sounds you make. The way you’d bite your lip when
I made you come.” Softer: “Do you remember, chuchu ?”
    She remembered. Too well, in fact.
    Humid Belémian nights came rushing to the
fore in a heartbeat, and suddenly she wasn’t in this too-bright
room in a CIA safe house. She was in their crappy apartment in
Belém, legs spread wide as Lennox’s hard body slid into hers.
    Perfect training situation, then, wasn’t it?
Mission during the day. Missionary —doggy, and reverse cowgirl… for
starters— at night. It was like the man got high on the Kama Sutra
then OD’d on Cosmo magazines. Set out to try all four million and
eighty-five ways to make a girl go wild.
    That was good for a while. But just when
she’d started to think she could trust him, just when she thought
somebody in the world had her back, Lennox ripped her fragile
foundation out from beneath her feet.
    His calloused palm smoothed over her cheek
and Kizzie pulled away. “I remember everything,” she whispered.
Lennox beamed, and she added, “Everything.”
    All that cockiness seeped out of his face,
replaced by something that looked like regret, anger, and sorrow
had a rather freaky threesome.
    “H-hands!” a soft voice shouted from
somewhere in space.
    Neither of them bothered to move; didn’t
bother to blink.
    “Children,” Bill called. “Behave. We have
company.”
    The newcomer’s voice was still going, and
Lennox glanced over his shoulder. Then that green-eyed gaze she
thought she knew so well locked onto her again. “We’re not through,
you and me . Not by a long shot.”
    Kizzie pursed her lips. Sometimes silence
and a side-eye went farther than words.
    Lennox finally moved out of her space and
she pulled her first breath in ages deep into her lungs.
    Near the door, a woman had a gun pointed in
Kizzie’s direction. And Bill was eyeing her like he was taking her
emotional temperature.
    Both situations ramped up her irritation. No
idea who the woman was, but Bill knew what happened with Lennox in
Belém. Knew how hard it was for her to go back and plant a
tracking device into Sanzio Galletti less than three weeks ago.
    Why the hell would he pair her with Lennox
after all these years?
    A shudder wormed its way through Kizzie’s
body, a mixture of repressed anger and that toxic, physical
attraction that landed her bare ass in his bed in the first damn
place. Nothing good could come from this mission, whatever it was.
To send her back on an op with her former partner wouldn’t just be
dangerous, it would be cruel.
    But she knew exactly how to handle it.
    Lennox might have seduced her once in her
short life, but he wouldn’t get a chance to do it again.

 
    IN THE SMALL space between the two steel
security doors, agent Rachel Hayford sprawled on the concrete slab,
palms clamped over her ears. That didn’t stop the ringing or the
feeling

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