Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7)

by Jacki Delecki

  He grabbed her finger. “Is that so?”

  His breathing was audible, and the color on his cheeks darkened. She could bend and lick the water drips on the thick mat of hair on his chest—follow it down the path that winded to the real pleasure.

  The sexual tension intensified with every uptick in his breath. She was primed, and the scent of arousal filled the air as her breasts swelled and her breathing quickened. She could barely control herself to not tear off his towel and get down on her knees.

  He released her finger and stepped back, taking away the heat radiating off his body and his scent that fired her pheromones.

  “Why are you here, Darcy?”

  “You know why I’m here, Reeves. I want you. And the way the towel is tented, you want me too.”

  He moved to his suitcase lying on the floor, then bent over to allow a panoramic view of his male parts. And it was enough for her heart to skip a beat or two or even three.

  “Means nothing except I’m a healthy male who responds to any woman showing up in my bedroom. But I’m not in the mood to take care of you tonight. I have an important day ahead of me tomorrow.”

  “Okay, jackass, that’s it. I’ve had enough of you, ‘Mr. Pissed Off, Poor Reeves.’ Are you ready to marry me?”

  He snapped around. “What the hell?”

  She followed him, invading his space. “You heard the question. Are you ready to marry me?”

  “Your concussion is affecting your thinking.”

  She loved the way his chest flexed and the towel loosened with his tirade. A girl could hope for a show.

  “Then why are you angry and hurt that I’m not ready to marry you either?”

  “Honestly, Darcy. I’m getting dressed to take you to a clinic for a CT scan. You’re making no sense.”

  “I’m making total sense. You’re acting as if I kick puppies and waterboard innocents because I might be awarded a dream job in the future. The future. A future we haven’t had time to discuss. Hell, we barely know each other. Two days ago, we hadn’t met in person. We haven’t even had sex, but you’re mad and rejecting me tonight because of a possibility that may never happen.”

  He ran his hand through his tousled hair, giving her another spectacular view of his armpit. Who knew she could get wet from any part of a well-formed man’s anatomy? Not just any man. Reeves. Only Reeves. Every inch of Reeves was a turn-on.

  “You’re right. And I am mad. Mad at myself. I don’t have your experience of living under the wire. I thought how I felt about you after my kidnapping was real and not an after-effect of all the emotions and adrenaline dump. But I’ve had time to think it through. And it was nothing but blind lust that got all mixed up after the threat. Nothing more.”

  Darcy controlled the need to roll her eyes and prayed for patience. Reeves had had shock piled upon shock since she’d arrived in his life.

  “I do have more experience, but I’ve never thrown myself at any other man who has been part of an operation. I’ve never declared myself, never shared how terrified I was that I might have lost him. Never wanted a man as much as I want you, Reeves Hewitt.”

  “If you’re looking for a no-strings fling before you leave for Libya, I’m not interested.”

  “Are you trying to test me, or are you that dense? I haven’t decided anything about Libya. We just met. It isn’t the time to make life decisions. Take the reverse. What if I told you, ‘I’m leaving the CIA, taking the Jenkins job, and moving to Seattle.’ You wouldn’t think it’s a little premature?”

  “If you meant it, I’m ready for all of it. You had me when you walked into Richard’s office, and I realized the sexy redhead was the incredible gamer XChoco. It’s what I want. You and me together. I don’t want you to give up your work to be a couple. But I do want you to leave the CIA because of the way they treat you. You deserve better. At Jenkins, you’d be respected. And Richard has global business all around the world where you could make a difference.”

  “And we would work together?” Darcy searched his face, looking for the gleam of teasing that he was joking.

  “We wouldn’t exactly be working together. I spend a great deal of my time at the software company. It’s only when the situation gets harried, and the Jenkinses need my cyber skills, that I get involved. Nick and the men do their own thing.”

  “I’m a policeman’s daughter. No ties to high society. And no interest in being groomed to fit into that lifestyle.”

  “So, you didn’t like Sophie? You wouldn’t want to have dinner with her and Finn?”

  “No, Sophie is great and nothing like what I expected.”

  “Then that’s easy since Soph and Jordan are family. And you can’t go higher than them in Seattle society. So that’s not a problem.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “What’s this really about it, honey?”

  She looked into his eyes. She was trained to trust her gut, and her gut was shouting that Reeves was the most wonderful man and she’d be making a mistake by not pursuing their connection. But she had never made a leap of faith like this before.

  “Are you always this impulsive? How can you be so sure about us?”

  He shrugged, and the towel slipped lower, riding on his hips.

  She tried to keep her eyes focused on his face. This was a serious conversation.

  “I just know. And for a mathematical nerd, it’s insane and illogical not to have facts and trust some unknown quantity. But I do know. Can I show you how I know?”

  There was the teasing glint that she loved in his eyes.

  He lifted her in his arms against his naked, hot chest. “It might take me all night to prove my theory.”

  “I’m going to be hard to convince.” She rubbed against his erection.

  “As you can feel, I have hard evidence to support my point of view.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Reeves carried Darcy to the bed. His body was one rigid muscle. The scent of her arousal and her lemon shampoo filling his nostrils was a powerful aphrodisiac—as if he needed any inducement to want Darcy. He wanted her since the moment he spotted her in Richard’s office—all buttoned-up, at attention, her lips pressed together in distaste at being forced to work with him. Her passionate nature was as her flaming red hair that couldn’t be kept tightly secure, always slipping out of its confines.

  He would like to drop her on the bed and crawl right on top of her, but Darcy deserved gentleness and tenderness. Damn, the woman was still restrained in a splint, and her face was a rainbow of purple-and-yellow bruising.

  He wanted to make this perfect for her, but the way she was nibbling on his earlobe and sucking on his neck was tearing apart the last threads of his tightly held control.

  “I love this stubble and the strong jawline and the classic Grecian nose.” She ran her finger along his nose before returning down to his lips, which she traced with her fingertip.

  “This is my favorite—your lips.” She giggled. “Well, not my favorite.” She lifted and pressed down against his erection. “Favorite that I’m familiar with. I’m not acquainted with this part of you yet. But I plan to become intimately friendly with all of you.”

  He moaned when she repeated the movement. The idea of Darcy and his dick having an intimate relationship made him expand and pulsate. He defied science, swelling bigger, growing harder.

  “I’m not sure if it’s your lips or your eyes that are my second favorite. I like it when you get the smallest quirky smile, and your lip turns up at this corner.”

  Her mouth came close to his, hovered, and waited.

  The nearness of her was like explosive kindling, igniting sparks of fire down his spine to his balls.

  His hand slid under her thick hair, curled around her neck, pulling her near. Finally, her lips brushed his, the mere touch inflaming him to a flashpoint. He tilted her chin and licked her lips, teasing her mouth open.

  Her mouth clung to his. Loving the feel of her warm, full lips against his, he kissed her as he had been dreamin
g about, exploring her plump, pillowy heat. She tasted so good, like a sugary dessert, causing an intense craving for more. He was already addicted to kisses by Darcy Wilson.

  He lowered her down the length of him in a long, sexy slide. Reveling in the sensation of every inch of contact with her. His dick throbbed with tantalizing anticipation.

  She hung onto him, her body melting against him. With her against him, he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue past her teeth to slide along the length of hers.

  His tongue teased before she kissed him with desperate hunger, her mouth devouring him. He answered with the same desperation. He lost track of time with Darcy kissing him with singular focus as if he were her mission.

  He grabbed her sweet ass and tipped her against him, never breaking contact with her lips.

  She tugged on his lower lip, sucking it between her teeth. “I could spend the entire night exploring, kissing, licking in all my favorite places.”

  Her words made all his blood rush south, and his body stiffened into full readiness.

  He trailed kisses down the delicate curve of her neck, pausing at the little notch at the base of her throat where her pulse thrummed. He placed his lips against her pulse, sucking lightly.

  Darcy’s head dropped back, exposing the long, glorious line of her neck. He traced her pulsing vein first with his finger and then with his tongue. Primitive feelings rushed through him. He wanted to mark her as his own, suck on her pale skin. But going to work in her standard white blouse, Darcy wouldn’t appreciate his male possessiveness.

  He fingered the tiny straps on the black dress, continuing his exploration of her delicate collarbone and shoulder. “This dress was Danni’s idea, wasn’t it? She and Sophie were enjoying watching me squirm, fighting a boner. God, it took all my control to keep it down. Thank God for jeans.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes drowsy with desire. “It was the only dress that would easily fit over my splint. Nothing about driving you crazy.”

  He raised her silky hair and nuzzled behind her ear. “Liar. You knew exactly the effect you were having on me.”

  She giggled. Miss “Seriously, the world might end” giggled. “Maybe a little.”

  “You must have been an adorable little girl. All curls and freckles.” The image of a giggling little Darcy flashed in his mind. And surprising himself, Reeves welcomed the possibility of loving a girl with a mop of curls, and freckles, and sparkly green eyes like Darcy.

  “Can we talk about my childhood later? I want to see you naked.” Her skin was dewy and flushed a pretty pink.

  “I can do something about that.” With one quick move, he dropped the towel on the floor.

  Darcy covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “I didn’t mean it literally, like right this second.”

  “Honey, you tell a man you want to see him naked, this is what you get.” His muscles were pumping from intense blood flow, and his erection was at full mast. He put his hands on his hips. “You better not be laughing at my junk, or we’re going to have a problem.”

  Darcy threw herself at him, grabbing him and holding tight with her one arm. “Reeves, you’re a beautiful man, but … you’re the only man who can make me laugh in the middle of blinding, needy lust.”

  “I’m not sure making you laugh is a compliment.” Her heat against his skin abraded every nerve cell, as did her hot words. He couldn’t stop his hips from flexing against her.

  “Can you help me out of this dress?” Darcy stepped away, taking all her heat and softness.

  “It’s probably best to keep your splint on. We’ll have to work around it.” He lowered the strap. “Is it better if you step out of your dress? That way, you don’t have to lift your arms?”

  He slowly slid the strap off and then pressed kisses on her shoulder. “You have the softest skin with these little bursts of fire. It will take a lifetime to pay full homage to your freckles.”

  He carefully lowered the strap more over her splinted arm, and the dress fell to the floor, exposing her full, pale breasts, her erect nipples, and the tiny scrap of a pink lace thong. He couldn’t move, mesmerized, enthralled, and pulsing with need.

  “Darcy, you take away my breath. I’m … lost for words. I’m never lost for words!”

  She backed onto the bed, kicking off her flip-flops, and fell against the pillows. Her red hair spread across the pillow as he had fantasized. “So, you’re not thinking of Python or Java right now?”

  Her eyes sparkled in delight. He always wanted his stern, by the book woman as playful and happy as she was in this minute.

  “Darlin’, I’m thinking what a lucky bastard I am to have you in my bed. Ms. Darcy Wilson, the CIA’s most lethal weapon. I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”

  “Reeves, I feel the same. I never knew a man like you could exist.” She opened her one arm in invitation. “Make love to me. I want you, only you.”

  His heart thrashed against his chest. This was the sweetest torture imaginable to have Darcy all laid out for him. He hesitated. If he got on top of her, it would be over too soon. He wanted more for their first time. It had to be everything she deserved—to be cherished, loved for the incredible woman she was.

  “What’s wrong, Reeves?”

  “I can’t decide where to begin.” He stretched out on the bed beside her, his hand traveling up one of her calves, to her thigh, to the curve of her hip. As he gently brushed her skin, his senses were on overload by her beauty.

  “Let me help you.” Guiding his fingers, she pressed them against the tiny panties covering her wet mound. “I’m partial to you starting here.”

  He chuckled, but his brain jammed as his dick twitched with her on wonderous display next to him, her thatch of red hair visible through the nearly see-through panties. Her red hair was such a turn-on. His dick, rock hard, was ready to explode.

  “Oh, but I wanted to start here.”

  Her skin was smooth as satin. His fingertips tingled as he stroked down her chest to her breasts. His palm burned when he cupped the soft weight. Each breast filled his hand.

  Darcy dragged in a slow and shuddering breath but didn’t protest. She watched, desire glowing in her eyes, as he lifted and stroked her, taking his time to knead and plump the firm mounds. He rolled each nipple between his fingers into tight buds.

  Darcy threw her head against the pillow with her eyes closed. Her skin was flushed. Her lips parted. This was how he wanted her, lost in sensation.

  He pulled the warm flesh into his mouth. Pleasure streaked through him. Suckling her was another addiction he might have for life. A primitive neanderthal, he wanted to be the only man ever to see her, touch her, taste her honeyed nipples.

  Darcy whimpered and opened her legs. He switched to her other breast, sucking hard.

  He skimmed his hand down, caressing the rounded curve of her hip. He traced the soft lines of her body, tangling his fingers underneath her panties into the red curls.

  Darcy arched off the bed, drawing out his name in a pleading tone. “Reeeeves.”

  His heart pounded against his chest and his dick throbbed from her entreaty. Darcy’s pleading would be added to his growing list.

  He groaned as a sharp and painful burn lanced through him when he discovered her bud already hard, throbbing, and welcoming.

  “Is this what you needed, baby?” And he pulled, his teeth scraping her nipple as he pressed one finger into her wet sheath and slid farther, probing between her slick folds, then pushing deep. And deeper, igniting fire. She screamed his name as she spasmed around his fingers, the sweet fever taking her.

  Her shudders were almost his undoing. He had to focus on watching Darcy and not the need to sink into her, to fill her empty space made for him, feel her spasms surrounding him.

  “Reeves, I need you now. I have an ache only you can fill.”

  Triumph soared through him.

  She reached to stroke his erection. Her touch left him shaking, gasping, struggling to gain any glimmer
of control.

  “But I wanted …”

  Darcy squeezed him hard. “What about what I want?”

  Reeves couldn’t argue with that. He could barely get words out. Anticipation skittered across his skin.

  “Will it be easier if you ride me?” As he uttered the words, raw lust swamped his body.

  Her eyes gleamed, catching the light from the bedside lamp. “I’d like that. The powerful stud, Reeves Hewitt, beneath me. Maybe later …”

  He reached into the drawer for a condom to suit up.

  “I thought you might.” He laughed. She wasn’t like other women. She was bold and aggressive, intent on shredding all of his control, all of his defenses. And he loved it.

  “I think I’ll be very comfortable just like this.” She spread her legs and ran her hand over her breast.

  Excitement whirled as he melded his lips against her, their tongues dancing as he lowered himself on top of her. Heat and warm, pliant flesh surrounded him as the need between them rose to a crescendo.

  His kisses became demanding, commanding. She belonged to him. Only him. He would never let her go. Did she understand what this meant?

  Reeves climbed her body as if he were a conquering hero and settled between her legs. “I can’t take it slow as I hoped.”

  “Later. Right now, I want it hard and fast. Make me feel every impressive inch of you, Reeves.”

  He sent a silent hallelujah to the gods who brought Darcy into his life as he slid into her.

  And once he was fully impaled in her snug, moist heat, he waited. He didn’t want to hurt her. He was a big man, and she was a tiny woman. When he looked down, their eyes met in silent communion, their breaths and bodies mingling as one.

  He waited for her to adjust, sweat pouring down his back and beading on his forehead, not willing to move until she was ready.

  Her nails scored his back as she lifted her hips to bring them closer. And he started to move, increasing his speed until he pounded into her.

  She drew her knees up, planting her heels into the mattress, pushing up to meet him thrust for thrust.