he nibbled on her earlobe. “Is it true?”
“It’s true,” he admitted.
Her fingertips bit harder into his sides when his breath touched her ear. He kept one hand on the back of her head, the other went to her hip, and she wanted more than anything for him to take off her robe. Kiss her all over. Work his way down her body. But, but, but—damn her brain.
He released her suddenly, taking her by surprise, and when she peeled her eyes open, he was standing a foot away, dragging both palms down his face. “Yeah, I can’t do much thinking about Russian espionage when you look and smell so good.” He took another giant step backward like maybe there was a line he had to get back behind, even though he’d just admitted he was all about crossing lines. “I know it’s late, but how about we get some food in our stomachs and talk?” His fingertips raced down his tanned throat and then he set his hands to his hips. “Unless you have something else on your mind you’d like to do right now?” He was letting her set the pace, but he sounded hopeful.
“Dinner and work talk.” Getting those words out was harder than she’d anticipated, especially because desire swelled to epic proportions inside of her.
A brief touch of disappointment flashed across his face, or maybe she’d read him wrong. Hell, maybe her skills were on the fritz while on the run and in this Alabama heat? But then he surprised her with a big smile.
“What?” she asked.
“I’ve been waiting nearly a year for you,” he said, his tone a touch hoarse, “and the reasons are shit, but I’m just happy you’re in my life again, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I don’t—we don’t need to rush, just so you know. We are in the South after all. We can take things slow.”
“Are you real?” she softly blurted.
He patted his chest, sides, then chest again. “I think so, but I have been seeing ghosts, so . . .”
“Wait, what?” She smiled, but well, she was also worried maybe he wasn’t kidding given his recent bumps on the head.
“That’s a story for another day. I think we’ve probably hit some sort of record when it comes to what a human can handle in one day, right?”
“You might be right.” She drawled out the word “right” to imitate him, and he grinned. That cocky one he liked to shoot her way, and she’d never dare admit how much she loved it.
“So, dinner and strategy, then?” She pointed to the door, but he shook his head. “What?”
“Clothes first.” He lifted his hands as if praying for strength. “Otherwise, the only strategy we will be discussing is the many different ways I can make you come.”
Her thighs tightened.
It was only Tuesday night.
Two more full days and three nights with this man . . .
He may have proposed they take their time and not rush, but Ana had the feeling that this time she’d be the one standing before him begging. Begging him to show her all the different ways he could make her come, regardless of the fact she had to focus.
Begging. Yeah, one more item on her “Things She Never Did Before A.J.” list.
Multiple orgasms would be something new, too, and heaven help her, the way A.J. was peering at her with those gorgeous green eyes of his and that sinful smile . . . multiple orgasms was going to make it to the top of her freaking list. And that one, she wouldn’t even mind.
“You were right about needing food. I don’t do hungry well.” Ana sat back in her white chair at the square, four-person table in the breakfast nook where they’d shared the pizza and held a hand over her abdomen.
“I honestly don’t know anyone that does hungry well, and I’d be worried if they did.” A.J. reached across the table and refilled both their glasses with the red wine they’d had by the pond earlier.
They’d yet to talk about work. Instead, A.J. had peppered her with questions about herself for the past hour, and if she weren’t worried about his motives, she’d think he was crafting a source identification package on her.
And the crazy thing? She’d freely given every detail, her walls basically nonexistent around him.
“He really wasn’t the right one since I was never able to confide in him,” the admission whooshed free from out of nowhere after sipping more truth serum, aka, wine.
A.J.