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But I don’t understand how he’s managed to be both astorm and a ghost, tearing through my life one minute, then vanishing without a trace the next.
All I know is when he’s gone, his absence clings to me like the chill of winter—invisible and suffocating, all at once.
And Angi? Can I really brush aside that once upon a time, they were practically inseparable?
His fingers trace the curve of my jaw, and everything inside me just...stops. Then, he brushes the line of my lips, and goose bumps race across my skin, every rational thought dissolving into electricity pulsing between us.
My lips part, and when his thumb presses in, impulse takes over—I lick, then gently suck. The low, guttural moan that rumbles from his chest is raw, primal. Blue eyes darken, like a storm gathering over the sea, the heat in them so intense it has him trembling.
“Jesus,” he breathes, his voice rough, thick with lust. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
His lips touch mine, and what starts as a soft, gentle brush quickly tidal waves into a crush of lips and tongues, sweeping me under, swallowing me whole, until I can’t breathe.
Years of simmering emotions, of tension building, building, building, until we slam into the breaking point, boiling over and spilling out of control.
My belly clenches as his thick cock presses against me, leaving me breathless and desperate, clawing at his shirt. And dammit!
Why the hell are there so many buttons?
I swear, from here on out, this man is legally obligated to wear only T-shirts. And considering the way they cling to him like a second skin, it’s sort of a crime not to. Win-win.
Argh!
Where the hell is that damn hunting knife?
The heat between us reaches a fever pitch, but then—his phone rings.
And rings.
And rings.
His jaw clenches, and he checks it. “Shit.”
He pulls back, our breaths still mingling, panting hard. His forehead presses against mine.
It’s as if the whole world is holding its breath as the moment slowly slips away.
He sighs, heavy enough to snuff out any last remaining embers between us. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
And then, he’s gone.
CHAPTER 32
Brian
I step into my office—myreal office, not the polished, picture-perfect front I use to keep up appearances.
This place is raw, all sharp edges with no trace of comfort—no windows, no sunlight. Just the hum of two walls filled with glowing monitors and high-tech gear. And right now, it keeps me right where I need to be—focused and in control.
This is the true heartbeat of The Centurion Group. Recon. Surveillance. Where movements of everything from people to money are tagged and tracked, and every threat is neutralized.
My team’s already locked in. Harrison’s running point, his sharp eyes and gut instincts making him the best damn asset we have, now that he’s out of the service.
And Colby?
My brother-in-arms, and in matrimony, is here, too.
Between his keen eye and an arsenal of surveillance drones, the guy would’ve shown up no matter what. It’s his sister we’re looking for, and if it were mine, nothing would stop me either.
