Page 79 of Harbinger


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I knew that something happened. She had told me as much. But I didn’t know just how much I wanted to kill him. To feel his neck snap in my hands. To see him dead on the ground.

There are just some people who are too evil to walk this earth.

Jeffrey Wright is one of them.

I’ve given her three days to relax. To figure out what she wants to do next. We haven’t heard from Jeffrey yet about a date for the meeting, and I’m growing impatient.

But I’m also growing impatient with myself. I want her. I want more than just cuddling in bed, my head in her hair. I want more than just candy as we watch a movie.

Because that’s what’s been happening.

Today was a long day at work, and I’m exhausted. There have been some issues in my office, and I’m going to have to report it to the Agency. Good news, I may have to call it quits on the job in dramatic fashion. Bad news, I’ll have to get reassigned to something else, which may be a lot more work.

I was liking the stability of just being an aid. I’d get all the information I needed from gossip and my boss, not even having to pry too hard.

Maybe I’d quit and work for someone else as one.

Maybe the Agency would redirect my path, and I’d work as something else entirely.

I won’t know until it happens.

Running my hands through my hair, I head upstairs to my room, looking for Sydney. Except she’s not there. Shiloh sits in the middle of the bed, his eyes wide as I close the door, looking innocent like he didn’t keep me up until one in the morning, sneezing.

But I hear the shower running.

I decide I’m going to try today. I don’t need to go very far. I don’t need her to prove anything to me. But I want to make an effort. Show her that I’m still interested. That it’s not just the job.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door, stepping into the steamy room.

Sydney stands in my shower, the glass hiding nothing from me. She doesn’t see me as I walk in, peeling my clothes off, but she notices when I open the door, her head swiveling toward me, her eyes wide as her mouth sits open.

“May I?” I ask.

She nods, and I step in, closing the door behind me.

“What are you doing?” she asks, standing under the scorching hot water. Her skin is practically red from the heat, and I wonder, not for the first time, how she does that.

I turn the knob all the way to the coldest setting. Her eyes widen.

“I wanted to touch my wife,” I tell her, carefully grabbing her hips.

She flinches a little as the water finally turns cold, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she looks up at me as my hands creep up her sides slowly. My hot touch on her suddenly cold skin until I reach her nipples. They’re hard from the temperature.

Kneeling in front of her, I bring her in closer, kissing up her stomach as I look up, watching as her head tips back, her eyes closed.

“I want you to look at me,” I tell her, and when she does, I lick from her sternum to her nipple, capturing it in my mouth.

She gasps, her hands going to my hair, pulling at the strands as she arches her back, a moan escaping her.

I nip at it, pulling it in my teeth, watching her whimper above me.

And then I make my way back down again, kissing the sensitive skin between her hips before sliding my tongue down, flicking her clit with my tongue.

Leaning back against the glass, I angle her hips for better access.

When she looks away, I stop, only starting again when her eyes meet mine once more.

“Ronan,” she whimpers, and I’ve had enough.

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