Code Name: Ghost - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,54

to Kynan about what happened in Syria, and he explained how it all actually happened. And what you did wasn’t wrong. It was very right. You saved lives. Jimmy and Sal were horrible casualties of war, but it wasn’t your fault. And well… I just… I want you, Malik. All of you, so I stupidly thought I would come here and talk about it. But then I thought… no, he’ll be stubborn and stoic and will probably still blame himself, then he’ll take the higher road and refuse me. So, then I thought some more and figured… I’ll just get him in bed. Let nature take its course. I’d convince you in all the good ways that I don’t blame you. So I got this idea… I’d come here, get naked, and wait for you in your bed. Except… well…”

“You changed your mind?” I guess.

“Not about the sex part,” she replies confidently, which makes my head spin. “But about the getting naked and waiting in bed part. You see… I have a bit of a problem and it’s a little embarrassing.”

I’m so confused right now. I have no idea where she’s going with any of this. Still, I feel I must say, “You can tell me anything. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Yes, well… I’m going to have to tell you this. Because you see… I’m still breastfeeding. And, well, that produces certain things with my breasts that might become awkward.”

I just stare, my face feeling as blank as the inside of my head, because I don’t know what she means.

“I leak,” she mutters, averting her eyes to the side.

“You leak?” I repeat, still thick-headed and not understanding.

“I leak milk,” she clarifies. “I mean, not always. But I might. And it can happen if I get, you know… excited. That’s not to say I have had sex since having Avery, because I haven’t. But I’ve… you know… taken care of myself, and well, my breasts sometimes participate, and there’s no guarantee it will happen, but it could. Well, probably not right now as I just pumped not fifteen minutes ago, so it’s probably okay.”

Well, fuck. Jesus Christ. Now I understand. As does my dick, which chooses this moment to get caught up in the story. It starts to thicken at the thought of Anna pleasuring herself.

“So… anyway,” she continues with this very long, drawn-out, and admittedly weirdly captivating story. “I realized I couldn’t get naked and wait for you in bed, because it would be best to keep a bra on with some pads on the inside, but I’m wearing a bra and set of panties that are in no way sexy at all. So that idea was ruined—”

“Anna, shut up,” I mutter, then grab her to me with one hand behind her neck.

Fuck, we have so much to talk about, but the fact she came here to have sex with me and has no qualms telling me about masturbating—and I can’t get that image out of my mind now—means I have to just kiss her.

We can talk later.

CHAPTER 18

Anna

While the three kisses we had shared before were definitely of an intimate nature, I now know those were still born mostly of friendship and a unique commonality we shared.

This kiss is completely different, and I feel it down to my toes. The way Malik moves his mouth over mine is possessive, domineering, and devouring. Whatever walls that had been erected due to the circumstances in Syria have been ripped down.

At least for now.

I’m not prepared for how swiftly my body reacts to Malik, nor do I understand how needy I feel. Granted, it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. Also, I’ve had a baby and my body is different. Pretty sure my hormones are different, too.

Mostly, I think the deep connection I’ve formed with Malik has heightened my senses until I’m hyper-aware of every touch and sound between us. In a matter of moments—with just his mouth on mine—he’s stirred within me a deep, almost painful clutch of need. The apex between my legs throbs. While I’ve always enjoyed long, slow foreplay in my lovemaking, I have the scandalous urge to pull Malik down to the bed and beg him to fuck me.

It almost feels as if my own life depends on him bringing his body into mine—for us to fuse together whatever this is we have in the making.

My fingertips dig into the waistband of his jeans, and I pull hard to draw him closer. A wanton nudge to