Her hair was sleek and shining down her back. She was wearing a clingy knit tunic. Rather than pants or a skirt, she wore leggings. With the leggings and the boots, she looked like she had legs that could work a catwalk, and this was all about appearances, right? When Elle had snapped a selfie of herself and sent it to Marni, she got an enthusiastic “Go get you some!” text in response.
The “Hookup Op,” as she had started to think about it as she dressed, was on.
Despite her thigh-high stiletto boots, her walk was steady as she made her way inside the dimly lit bar. Another unexpected benefit of field training: learning how to walk and run in heels. No more wobbling for her. Elle also took full advantage of the makeup lessons she’d gotten in field training. CIA officers were forbidden from sleeping with assets or targets, but looking attractive to “lure them in,” as her makeup instructor put it, was “part of the spy game” (also referred to as honeypot missions). Who said one skill couldn’t have multiple uses?
She assessed the interior using her surveillance skills. The main exit was to her back: one fire exit was in the back northeast corner. The bar was to the left, and a swinging door to what was probably an office and the kitchen was next to it. The spacious room had an open floor plan with pool tables clustered in the back and tables and booths throughout the rest of the place. Two big flat screen TVs were there, with a smaller one over the bar.
People- mostly guys- were lounging around in jeans and t-shirts or in camo. They were sipping beers as they talked. There were women around but not too many. At least she wasn’t looking at a lot of competition. The thought made her swallow. Where had the idea of other women as her competition come from? That wasn’t like her at all. Well, hooking up wasn’t like her either. The attitude would remain specific to this op.
Now that she was there, however, Elle found herself at a loss. She’d been so focused on preparation- figuring out what she would wear- that she hadn’t considered what she would do once she got there beyond “hookup.” She hadn’t thought through this operation completely. If she did something like this in a real op, Mason would be the first one moving to have her field rating status revoked.
Surveying the room again, Elle settled on the bar. Of course. She should get a drink. It would give her something to do as she figured out how to approach someone. The buzz from the wine had faded. A realization floated into her consciousness. Hooking up with a guy meant she was going to have to actually, like, proposition one.
Oh dear God.
She heard herself gulp and was glad no one else was standing nearby. It was definitely time for some hard liquor: in these situations, liquid courage was the rule. At least, it was for her.
It took all of Elle’s self-control not to turn on her heel and run. Instead she took a deep breath and slowly let it out, forcing her shoulders down. She could do this. She didn’t know a soul in this dive. Even if she was roundly rejected, no one but her would know. She’d just tell Marni she hadn’t seen anyone interesting. And any guy she did hook up with wouldn’t know her from Eve. There was really no downside here.
She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and go to the bar.
“I’d like a-” Looking at the list of drinks above the bar, she didn’t think she’d ever drink a White Russian again after being drugged with one, but she still needed something. “I’ll take a margarita. On the rocks. Salt around the rim.”
The bartender nodded. “Drinking alone, huh?” he asked as he started mixing the cocktail.
Elle forced a smile. Looking terrified would not help her odds. “For the moment.”
He gave her a grin. “Something tells me it won’t be for long.”
From his lips to God’s ear. She took a sip and then glanced to her side. A guy had shifted and was looking at her. A second glance told her he wasn’t just looking around the bar: he was looking at her.
He was hot. Like, really hot with short dark hair and dark eyes. His t-shirt was filled out but without being overly bulky. Broad chest and shoulders, good-sized biceps. He gave her the slightest of smiles as he nodded, leaning back on the bar, resting on his elbows. His muscles weren’t about show like a bodybuilder’s: they were about functionality. His eyes seemed to see right through her clothes, and he was making no effort to hide his observation of her.
Well, here went nothing. She remembered something else she had learned in field training. Eye contact was key to getting and holding someone’s attention. She met those dark eyes that were full of heat with a direct look of her own.
“You come here often?” she asked. As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to cut her tongue out. What kind of a lame line was that? She guessed it wasn’t as bad as asking him about his astrological sign but not by much. Jesus. She should have thought of some lines to say before she even left her apartment.
He shifted towards her slightly. “Often enough to know I haven’t seen you around here before.”
Elle felt as if she’d been made. She reminded herself she was not actually on an op. Not a formal one, anyway. She smiled, tilting her head. It was a non-threatening way to look alluring, according to her field training. “Maybe you just don’t remember.”
“I’d remember.” He spoke with a matter-of-fact assurance that convinced her. “What brings you here?” he asked, shifting to face her more directly.
“I’m exploring.”
Okay. That sounded marginally better. It was true. She hadn’t seen much of Norfolk in the past year because she’d been so busy, even if sightseeing wasn’t really at the top of her agenda at the moment. She took another deep swallow of her margarita, trying to calm her thudding heart.
“Exploring?” His direct gaze didn’t waver. “Seem to be looking for something.”
She bet those eyes didn’t miss a thing. “Perceptive.” She gave him another smile. “I’m looking for new experiences.”
“What kind of new experiences?” Although the next shift of his body only brought him slightly closer- there was still a bar stool between them- it felt as if he had moved right next to her. The heat that radiated from him, the intensity of his eyes and the sheer physicality of his presence, seemed to envelope them in a bubble, dulling the noise of everything occurring around them to insignificant murmurs.
Lyle always inspired the urge to play. She felt the urge to play now, but something told her play with this guy could burn, which may be good and may not be. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering, was this guy another Kagan, a terrorist who had drugged her and been well on his way to raping her before a surveillance team intervened?
She could handle herself now, she reminded herself. Besides, this guy couldn’t have known she was coming, so it was unlikely he had paid off a bartender to drug her as Kagan had. And she could now recognize the early signs of being drugged in order to haul herself out of there. She could also fight enough to get away. She was ready to take this risk.
Elle didn’t shrink from him. This was the opportunity to make her proposition. Her swallow was so hard it actually hurt her throat, but she managed to say something. “I’m open to possibilities.”
She shifted, mirroring him, so that they were facing each other. It was like he radiated a force that drew her closer without him having to lift a finger. Part of her wondered what the hell was wrong with her. People did not radiate magnetic forces. The other part of her was happy to draw closer to whatever she felt. This was what she’d gone looking for, right?
His lips curved in the barest hint of a smile, and his dark eyes seemed to gleam in what was hopefully approval. “I’m all about exploring new possibilities.”
He didn’t bother to hide his slow once-over of her body, from her face down to the tips of her boots and back up again. Elle shifted just the slightest bit to better show off her legs. She knew the tall bar stools showed off her legs and ass to their best advantage, and they were the body parts that had benefitted the most from her physical training. The darkening of his eyes sugges
ted he liked what he saw.
Elle had an idea of what to do next. But could she? Yes, she could. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? As his eyes rose back up to her face, she picked up her margarita glass, licked some of the salt off with the tip of her tongue and swallowed some of the drink. The salt really did enhance the taste of the margarita. And she had it on good authority that guys enjoyed seeing tongues and lips in action. It was a good thing she had worn the twelve-hour lipstick that didn’t rub off easily.
His eyes were too dark for her to see if his pupils expanded or not, especially with a bar stool still between them. He shifted even closer, however.
Elle was pretty sure he was interested. It was time for her to make her move. Carpe diem. She was initiating this fling, but what to say, exactly? She swallowed more of her margarita. She kind of felt like she was waving a red flag in front of a bull, but she wouldn’t let herself back down. “Big talk. Where’s the action?”
He slid over so he was sitting next to her, moving with the fluid grace of a tiger. Now she could feel the heat from his body. Despite a flutter of nervousness, she let herself enjoy his warmth. The margarita went down cool as she swallowed but then heated her up even more.
“Name the time and the place.” He stroked her forearm. It was as if electricity shot out of his fingertips, sizzling up her arm and causing her heart to flutter.
Okay. She hadn’t planned to take him to her place. It probably wasn’t the safest strategy to go to his place: going to a location that was familiar to a target put an operative at more risk. She wasn’t an operative here, not technically, but the principle was still true. Should she just suggest one of the dive hotels on this street?
She looked up at him through her eyelashes. It was something she had seen Marni do when flirting. How did you actually come out and say, Let’s hookup? Now that she was in the position, she realized she didn’t know the rules of engagement for this. She had been working with Preston for weeks before they hooked up. Something told her this guy knew the rules, however.
“I’m flexible.” She stretched, letting her back arch and her breasts lift up. He noticed, letting his eyes linger. Maybe this would be enough to nudge him into action. She sure as hell hoped so, because she just couldn’t bring herself to actually suggest going to a hotel or something. “What type of action are you thinking?”
“Well, I could tell you,” he said, finishing his beer, “but showing is way more fun.”
This was happening. She was picking up a complete stranger. Well, she had started the pick up: he had pretty much taken the lead as soon as he spoke. Elle slid off the bar stool to stand on her feet, working to keep a grin from splitting her face. This was no time to act like a virgin.
“Let’s see if you can walk your talk.” She felt a bit light headed from her margarita, enough to remind her she hadn’t eaten any of the chicken she cooked, but not so much that she couldn’t walk out on her own.
“I always walk my talk.” He stood as well. Challenge accepted. “I’m Reese, by the way.”
Oh shit. How the hell had she managed to forget she didn’t even know his name? She held out her hand. “I’m Elle.”
He didn’t release her hand after shaking it; instead, he gave her a gentle tug as he led her out of the bar. She was on her way to successfully completing her second op.
Chapter 6
Reese pushed the hotel room door shut with one hand while pulling her close with his arm around her waist. The click of the door shutting barely registered to Elle’s ears before his lips captured hers. She had heard the phrase “he devoured her lips,” and now she knew what it meant. His lips weren’t gentle: they pressed hard against hers, and his tongue pushed at the seam of her lips, demanding they give way for him to surge in. His arms were strong, encircling her and lifting her as if she were weightless, his hands squeezing her ass before sliding lower.
Before she knew it, his hands were sliding under her tunic, lifting it up. She gasped, drawing in a deep breath when he finally released her lips, but it was only so he could lift the tunic over her head. Before she could blink he had reclaimed his lips as his hands gave her waist a gentle squeeze before pushing at the waistband of her leggings.
She tugged at the soft cotton of his t-shirt, enjoying the feel of his hot, rough skin once she got under it. They both needed to get naked for this endeavor, and she wanted to move as fast as he did. This time she pulled away from their kiss, and he cooperated by lifting his arms up to help her get his t-shirt off. She admired the ripple of muscles in his arms and shoulders as he lifted his hands up, settling them on her shoulders.
Then she was falling back onto the bed, her feet leaving the floor to hang over the side. He’d given her a gentle push but was right on top of her, pulling her further up on the bed even as he claimed her lips once more. He set himself between her thighs, keeping them parted with his body.
It was as if his hands were everywhere. She enjoyed the weight of his body and the feel of their skin touching. She could feel his back muscles moving under her hands and wished the rest of their clothes could melt away. He clearly had the same idea: before she knew it, he had her bra unfastened and was cupping her bare breasts. She arched into his touch, wanting more.
His lips released hers to kiss a trail down her chin and then her throat, where he stopped to give her a nip before laving the sting with his tongue. The nip induced a shiver through her body that she had no hope of suppressing and didn’t want to.
“Why am I not surprised you like a little bite?” Reese’s deep voice rumbled, his breath hot on her skin as he continued kissing his way down her chest.
She opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t before his lips began exploring one of her breasts, reaching a nipple. The suction had her back bowing, pressing up against him as his body kept her weighted down. His hands grasped hers, pressing them into the pillow above her head. He shifted so she could feel him, hard, between her legs as he moved to the other breast, keeping her pinned in place for his exploration.
And she didn’t mind one bit.
She barely registered the release of her hands until she felt his fingers at her hips, peeling her leggings further down. Needing to feel his skin, she stroked his back, enjoying the hardness of his muscles before squeezing the bulk of his shoulders.
She wanted to pull him back down to her when he raised himself until she realized he was still removing her leggings. He paused to unzip each of her boots. The economy of his movement was amazing to watch: a single tug on each boot got it off, followed by her leggings.
He met her eyes, and they almost seemed to blaze with a dark flame that had her clenching tight. She began to hunch up a bit, suddenly feeling very exposed in front of this guy she hadn’t known an hour ago, but his eyes spoke for him even as he reached out to press his hand down on one hip. The command was clear: don’t move. The heat of his hand and firmness of his touch had her lying back. She certainly didn’t want this to stop.
“Hadn’t pegged you for a thong girl.” His finger ran along one string before pulling it down and off her legs in one swift sweep.
Elle sat up, inhaling deep as her blood coursed through her body. She wanted him as naked as her. Now. “I’m full of surprises,” she breathed as she reached for the waistband of his jeans. Her eyes held his as she unbuttoned and then unzipped them, letting her fingers slide in to feel him, hot and hard, through his underwear. She wasn’t going to be a passive participant, not this time.
His eyes seemed to blaze even brighter as she slid her hand under his underwear to clasp him. After a few strokes and squeezes he backed away, fished a condom out of his pocket before shedding his pants and underwear in the blink of an eye and then crawled back on the bed, between her thighs again. He pushed her onto her back. Without dropping her gaze, he ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled it on himself.
“I did promise you some new experiences.” He stroked up her inner thighs.
Watching him look at h
er, in her most intimate place, had her heart pounding even harder. It struck her that the lights were on. She started to pull back a little again, but he stilled her with a hand on her thigh. HIs hold was firm.
“The- the lights are on,” she blurted out.
He gave her a smile. “Don’t have my night vision gear on hand, and I don’t want either one of us to miss a moment of this.” The rich deepness of his voice poured over her like warm honey. His eyes seemed to pin her in place.
He had night vision gear? She didn’t have time to puzzle on this, couldn’t even if she wanted to. The heat between them made thought difficult.
“This is- you think this is a new experience for me?” Dear God, could she sound any more inexperienced? She wanted to cringe, but cringing would only make matters worse.
“It’s new with me.” Then his fingers got to work, making her go cross-eyed. She had never laid on a bed, naked, with another guy, with the lights on, and watched him do… what he was doing. She briefly feared she was going to have a heart attack as her breath started to come in short bursts. He was watching her breasts heave; surely she was blushing. Her deep breaths started to slow her pounding heart, but he was having none of that. His touch grew firmer, faster, leaving her no choice but to surrender as her body got impossibly tight before shudders overtook her. His eyes stayed on her the entire time, taking in every nuance of her response, which just made her heart pound even harder. She heard herself cry out and couldn’t even begin to stifle herself.
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