it to our rock star.”
“You’re one sick chick,” he mumbled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Basel, Switzerland
Shane accompanied a driver to pick Jersey up from the airport. He held up a sign with just the number six. She laughed, scolding herself for feeling something resembling a sense of belonging. Killers didn’t belong.
“Mr. Popular couldn’t break away to come get me himself?”
Shane glanced back from the passenger’s seat, sunglasses low on his nose. “Not without Max killing him. He had an interview, a chance to slowly redeem his tarnished reputation.”
Jersey frowned. Chris did a fantastic job of screwing with Ian’s life. Why didn’t Jersey share his enthusiasm?
“But he wanted to come. After a ten-minute argument between the two of them, I slipped out or else no one would have been on time to get you.”
“That’s fine. I’m just here for the free stay and food.”
A hearty chuckle escaped him. Evidently, she wasn’t that convincing.
They arrived at the hotel ahead of Ian and Max. Shane let her into the large suite. She recognized Ian’s suitcase.
“I don’t have my own room?” She lifted her brows.
“Not to my knowledge. I just do what I’m told. You’ll have to take that up with Max and your boy.”
“He’s not my boy.”
“Sure.” Shane winked just before shutting the door behind him.
Jersey ignored the view, the spacious suite, and the chance to rifle through Ian’s things in favor of crashing on the king-sized bed. She woke sometime later to the click of the door.
Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she lifted onto her elbows. “Hey,” she murmured in a sleepy voice, admiring the tall, sexy man prowling toward the bed. He shrugged off his shirt and toed off his shoes.
Jersey wet her lips out of instinct, angry at herself two seconds later for showing such obvious signs of need. The only thing she needed was to stay strong. There was one job to do, and it didn’t involve ogling Ian and his body.
“Where have—” she started.
He held his index finger to his lips just before crawling toward her on the bed.
She fought the onslaught of emotions, especially the fluttery ones, the tingling ones, the ones that made her want to lick his chest and maybe … just maybe his balls too.
Biting back her grin, she let him peel the sheets from her body, exposing her bare legs, fitted white tee, and white panties. Ian grinned, not a cocky rock star grin, a genuine happy to see every inch of her grin.
Jersey reminded herself that he was a job, a mark, and they were a game that he would lose. Ian slid off her panties, reminding her that no game, no job, really nothing at all would ever be more pleasurable.
The first sound he made wasn’t a greeting or an explanation of where he’d been. It was a low hum from his chest when his mouth settled between her spread legs.
She kept her upper body lifted onto her elbows, chin tipped toward her chest as he kissed her, keeping his gaze locked to hers until she felt the first wave of pleasure hit, making her feel instantly dizzy and drunk. Her head fell backward, mouth open, eyes closed.
“Coop … oh Jesus … Coop …” She gripped the sheets.
He kissed his way up her body, taking her tee with him, pulling it over her head, leaving her completely naked. “Miss me, baby?” he whispered in her ear before sitting back and pulling off his jeans.
She swallowed over and over again, eyeing his erection, his tight abs—sinewy arms taut, eyes dark.
Jersey let her gaze slide up to meet his, giving him a tiny grin before returning her attention to his lower body settling between her legs.
Baby. She wasn’t anyone’s baby. No orphan was. But Ian made her feel something no one else ever did, and for that, he could call her anything he wanted.
He kissed her like the final song of a concert. Giving her everything, making a lasting impression. At the same time, he thrust into her, slowly building the tension between them. His hands ghosted along her body, as if she were breakable. Then they framed her face, as if she were a priceless work of art.
That was it. Ian Cooper made her feel wanted.
Honestly.
Deeply.
Undeniably … wanted.
The seemingly endless kiss lasted until they were nothing more than two desperate, naked bodies racing to the end, out of breath, in need of that final moment when everything just erupted with waves of something too powerful to put into words.
She had no idea what time