“It sure as hell was. Now sit.”
She took a step forward, but he refused to move. She didn’t back up. “I am not a dog, Diaz. You can’t order me around.”
“On this assignment I’m your superior, and if I say climb the goddamn walls, you’ll climb them. Got it?”
She gave him a military salute. “Yes, Captain. Can I go now?”
“No. We need to talk.” Good God she was making this difficult. Who knew Jessie had this much of an attitude.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the bathroom doorway. “Talk away.”
This was going to go well. “What were you doing today with Crush?”
“Uh, talking?”
“About?”
“I was trying to get to know him, to gain his confidence. He likes me, so I was playing on that. I already told you what I was doing. Why are we going over this again?”
“It looked to me like you were trying to do more than your job.”
“What did you think I was doing?”
“I think you like Crush and maybe you want to get something romantic going with him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus, Diaz.”
“This assignment isn’t about you finding your way into Crush’s leathers, Jessie.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Are you really that stupid? I’m not the least bit interested in what’s in Crush’s leathers or beyond that. I spent some time getting to know him, trying to figure him out, see if he’d trust me. Some guys like talking to girls because they think we’re harmless. He’s likely to reveal more to me than he will to you or Spence, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Uh huh. We’re supposed to be playing this together.”
She lifted her chin, clearly not liking the direction of the conversation. “I tried a different tactic, and it worked out just fine.”
He leaned into her. “You’re the junior member of this team, Jess. If you want to strategize a move, clear it through me first. In the meantime, stay the hell out of Crush’s pants.”
JESSIE HAD TAKEN ALL SHE WAS GOING TO FROM DIAZ . HE WAS bullying and berating her for something she hadn’t done. Yes, she might have used Crush today because she was pissed at Diaz. She’d been honest, too, though. It was also a tactic to see if she could find some information about him and the Devil’s Skulls. She wanted to do a good job on this assignment, not just be an extra body Grange had forced on Diaz. She wanted to do something productive, and she had.
But it was more than that. Diaz was being an ass, and she’d had enough.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with Spence using Stephanie to gain information.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
He didn’t have an answer, exactly what she figured. This had nothing to do with the mission and everything to do with what had been happening—or rather not happening—between them. And since he started this tonight . . .
“Stop pushing me away.”
Diaz leaned back. “What?”
“You heard me. Stop pushing me away. Stop running whenever we get close.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you? What is it about me that makes you run like hell, Diaz? I mean, I know I’m not hideous looking, and I have a decent body.” Now it was her turn to advance on him. He started backing up. “But I’m getting tired of you and me getting close and you slamming the door in my face.”
“Yeah. I could see today how brokenhearted you are over it.”
Men were such babies sometimes. He’d started this game. Too bad for him that he didn’t like it when the rules changed. She’d had enough. “Maybe if you had a working dick of your own and knew what to do with it, I wouldn’t have to go searching in Crush’s pants for one.”
Diaz’s gaze narrowed, his eyes going dark. She felt the fury coming off him in waves, saw the way the muscles bunched under his T-shirt. He advanced on her and Jessie backed up a step, realizing she might have just said the wrong thing.
SIX
JESSIE COULD TELL DIAZ WAS PISSED BECAUSE HE KEPT COMING at her, his face a tight mask of utter fury.
Never insult a guy’s manhood. Big, huge mistake.
Oh, shit. She skirted around the wall until her knees hit the side of the bed. Now she was trapped and had nowhere to run.
“Diaz, I didn’t mean that, really. I wasn’t after Crush’s dick. Or any other part of him for that matter. But you have to understand that when you pushed me away I—”
She never got to finish her sentence. Diaz jerked her against him, pulling her into his powerful body at the same time his lips crushed hers in a kiss she could only describe as breath-stealing. She’d gasped at the first contact and lost all ability to breathe after that.
Oh, God, he was kissing her. It was . . . sweet heaven . . . hot. There was such fury and passion in his kiss—she felt him boiling, the heat pouring off him and onto her. Yet he held her in a gentle embrace, not one of anger. His arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding on to her hand, lacing his fingers with hers in a way that made her heart melt.
Neurons were firing a million times a second, sending her senses haywire, and she still couldn’t breathe. Not with the masterful way he slid his lips over hers, commanding her to part her lips so his tongue could snake inside to slide against hers.
Her heart jackhammered against her chest as he licked her tongue in slow, deliberate movements meant to coax her surrender.
Coax? There was nothing to entice out of her. She’d waved the white flag as soon as he touched her. Did he think she would fight him? No way. She was his for the plundering. When he pushed against her and they fell onto the bed together, she damn near cried out in victory, because this was what she had wanted all along. Her body against his, the two of them lying side by side, Diaz’s warm, full lips possessing hers.
He rolled her onto her back and climbed over her, his mouth still on hers and doing delicious things to her senses. He was so big—everywhere, and yet so gentle as he held his weight off her and still pressed full-on against her. His c**k rode against her hip, thick and hot, penetrating through her jeans, through her mind, the promise of what could be. She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair, overwhelmed that she was actually touching him, that this was real and finally happening when she had convinced herself it would never be. Maybe pushing him to his limits had been the key. She didn’t know and didn’t care. They were here now and nothing was going to stop it.
DIAZ FELT LIKE EXPLODING, BUT IT WASN’T FROM ANGER. NOT ANYMORE. Any irritation he felt at Jessie evaporated as soon as he touched her, kissed her, put his hands on her.
All of which was wrong. Damn wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be lying in bed with his mouth on hers. But goddamn she felt good. Her mouth was sweet and spicy, just like the woman. And her body was all curves, soft and firm and making his dick rock hard.
The logical part of his brain told him he should get off this bed and explain to Jessie all the reasons they couldn’t do this. Like they were practically family. They were on assignment, which made him her boss at the moment, and that screamed conflict of interest. And the other guys would kick his ass for compromising Jessie. It was his job to protect her, not f**k her.
Unfortunately, the only part of his body thinking at the moment was his dick, and it wasn’t listening to reason.
To hell with it. She tasted like too much temptation to resist, and he wanted a little bit more. Then he’d stop, before things went too far. He had enough control for that.
He withdrew his lips from hers and stared down at her. Her eyes were half-lidded pools of dark green, filled with desire and something else—a touch of fear, maybe, or innocence?
If he read that expression right, he’d never be able to go on. Not Jessie. Not the way she’d thrown herself at him. She was experienced, knew exactly what she wanted and what she was getting herself into to. He refused to believe what he’d seen. And yet conscience wouldn’t let him continue. Not until he was certain of her intent.
“Are you sure?”
“God, yes,” she whispered, pulling his head down to her neck.
No hesitation.
He buried his face against the soft column of her throat and inhaled the scent of her—a little wild and earthy, like the outdoors. He licked her riotously beating pulse point and she whimpered, lifting her h*ps against him in a silent plea for more.
Yeah, he had a lot more to give her. His throbbing c**k wanted inside her. Just lying next to her told him their bodies would fit together.
Wait. Not yet. Not . . . ever. Restrain. Just touch her, play a little. That’s all he’d allow. Which meant whatever he did with her, her clothes were staying on. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to resist doing everything to her, with her.
Though he could well imagine what was going on underneath her clothes. He shifted, grasping her ass and sliding his thigh between her legs. She moaned, rocked her pelvis against him. He felt moisture through her jeans.
“Are your panties wet, Jessie?” he asked.
“I’m wet, Diaz,” she replied, her voice hoarse against his neck. She rubbed against his thigh again. “Fix it.”
Christ, it unraveled him that she was so outspoken with her needs. It made his dick pulse, his balls ache. He slid his hand over her hip, squeezing her flesh, content to just be able to touch her. But he knew that wouldn’t be enough. Not when her shirt had ridden up, exposing a sexy expanse of tanned stomach. He rolled her onto her back, one of his arms pinned under her neck, and surveyed her body.
Her br**sts were crushed against the tight shirt, enough that he could tell she didn’t have a bra on. Her T-shirt was one of those spandex numbers that held everything in. He palmed her stomach, using his fingers to walk upward and lift the shirt up over her ribs, exposing the emerald piercing dangling at her navel. So sexy. He’d like to see her na**d wearing nothing but that jewel at her belly.
“When did you have that done?” he asked.
She lifted her head, glanced down at the piercing. “When I turned eighteen.”
“I like it.”
Her lips curved, a devilish little smile. “I like your hands on me.”
He slid his palm under her shirt. Her skin was buttery soft, like the finest worn leather. He smoothed his hand over her, higher, up to her ribs, letting his fingers rest just below her breasts. He could feel her rapidly thrumming heartbeat, watch her face as she licked her lips, kept her gaze focused on him.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Diaz.”
Her honesty was going to tear him apart. If only he could be as honest with her. But there were too many doubts, too many things he couldn’t say.
He shouldn’t go any further. If he did, he wasn’t sure he could stop. Just smoothing his hand over her skin was torture. His balls felt knotted up, his dick twisted and on fire.
But the decision was out of his hands when Jessie lifted her shirt over her breasts, revealing two perfect globes with round peach ni**les that puckered right before his eyes, just begging for him. He groaned, inched forward, and covered one with his hand, the other with his lips. So much for leaving her fully dressed.
She tasted just as good as she looked—sweet and warm. She arched her back, sliding her nipple farther into his mouth, shoving the other breast into his palm. He toed off his boots and climbed onto the bed so he could lean over her, feast on her, lick and suck and tweak her ni**les until she writhed against him. The more he lavished attention on her breasts, the more she arched into him, twining her fingers through his hair and holding on tight as if she’d never let go.
Don’t let go. He liked her holding on to him, seeming to need what only he could give her. It was as if she was desperate for his touch, and he loved that, because he had so much more to give her than just this.
He tilted her up, long enough to lift the shirt over her head, then laid her head down on the bed again. Naked from the waist up . . . damn, she was so beautiful, her short hair framing her heart-shaped face, her eyes so wide open and beautiful as she studied his every move. He cupped her cheek, bent down to taste her lips again, slid his tongue between her teeth to lick at the velvety softness of hers—could he ever get enough of her sweet mouth?
As he explored her mouth, he reached for her belt buckle, undoing it and finding the button on her jeans, then drawing the zipper down. When he reached inside and laid his hand against her satin panties, she sighed softly against his lips. He pulled his mouth from hers, gazing down at her. Her panties were white, low cut, but he wanted to see more of them. He drew away from her, grabbed the denim, and pulled the jeans down her legs, drawing them off.
Jessie had the most beautiful legs, tanned, toned from her hard workouts in the gym. He worked his way back up by sliding his hands over the soft skin of her ankles, her calves, her thighs, moving to the edge of the bed to spread her legs apart, to inspect the tiny scrap of her panties, the only item of clothing she still wore.
“This isn’t quite fair,” she said, sounding a bit breathless.
“What isn’t?”
“You still have all your clothes on.”
Damn good thing, too, or he’d already be inside her. That little scrap of satin was no barrier to him. If he was na**d, he’d rip it off and plunge his c**k deep inside her in seconds. He was hard, aching, pulsing with a need to f**k her. Yeah, good thing he still had all his clothes on.
“I want to see you, touch you, Jessie.”
“I want to see you, too.”
“Later.” Never. Too much at stake. This was enough . . . had to be enough. He held on to her knees, spread her legs apart, and came down between them, sitting on the bed so he could be close to her. He inhaled the musky sweet scent of her arousal. The smell of sex, the best aphrodisiac ever. It intoxicated his senses, made his balls knot up tight against his body, his c**k quiver in anticipation.