Battle with the SEAL (Norse Security 3)

“By the way, your grandma called from 1984. She wants her fanny pack back.”

“Funny.” Loki gave her a flat look. “So, what’s our next step?”

“Well, first, I’m going to grease up this baking dish.” She held up the pan in question. “Then I’m going to drain the pasta and dump it into the pot you’re stirring. Then you’re going to put it all into my baking dish and we’re going to let it cook for another half hour.”

“Haha.” Loki was not amused. He loved a good smartass as much as the next guy, but this case was too important to joke about. “I mean what were your plans after we leave here.”

“What were yours?” she countered, swinging around to face him with that big metal spoon in her hand, the curved edge of it glinting in the light just like a blade.

On edge, he reacted without thinking. One second they were standing at the stove cooking, and the next he had M pressed up against the wall, all those soft curves he’d been admiring pressed tight to his front. She still had the spoon in her hand, which he held tight to the wall beside her head. Hot water dripped down onto his forearm, but he barely noticed. His senses were too overwhelmed with the fact that with each inhalation, her breasts nudged into him a little more firmly. Her scent—oranges and spice and warm clean woman—filled the air and it was all Loki could do not to grind his rapidly hardening cock into the heat between her legs. The fact her pupils were dilated and her cheeks were flushed told him she wanted him too, no matter how unwise that might be.

“Tell me,” he insisted, pressing her more tightly between the wall and himself. “Where were you planning to go after this? We’re a team now, remember?”

She smiled, slow and sexy. “A team, huh?”

M ground herself against him in blatant invitation and it took every ounce of willpower Loki possessed not to take her right then and there against the wall of the kitchen, dinner and this mission be damned. But he’d worked too hard and too long on this company to let it all go now. He gritted his teeth and forced his wild libido back into check. “Yes, a team. Tell me where?”

With a sigh, M relaxed against him and it was almost worse than her struggling. “Fine. I’d place another coded Craigslist ad asking about the information that was stolen from your client. I’d gotten a hit. That’s why I was at that airshow today, to meet the seller. Then all that shit went down and people started shooting at us, so that deal was blown.”

Loki blinked down at her. “Who was the seller? What was their name?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you.” He leaned in closer, his lips grazing her soft cheek. “Tell me. Tell me now or I’ll shut down that make-up vlog of yours that you love so much.”

That got her attention, finally. M glared up at him, her eyes spitting fire. “Fuck you. You don’t know anything about it.”

“Don’t I?” He flashed her a half-grin before returning to nuzzling the spot just below her ear, because dammit it if he couldn’t help himself. She tasted like strawberry wine and those little sounds she made deep in her throat were twice as intoxicating. “I know that you post regular segments, twice a week, and that you spend hours getting ready for them. I’d say it’s your pet project. Be a shame to lose all that data, all those videos. Hard to start all over from scratch again.”

She arched against him, harder this time. Whether by plan or need, he couldn’t tell. M clutched the front of his shirt, her nails digging into his pecs and fuck if that didn’t feel so good. “You…can’t do anything,” she said, her voice all breathy and hot near his ear. “You don’t have my…password.”

That last word might have been totally innocent on the surface, but the way she all but purred it into his skin made it something else entirely. Hard and aching, Loki teetered near the edge of his control, easing her trembling thighs apart to press even closer against her as she panted. Locked together about as intimately as two people could be with all their clothes still on, Loki whispered the password for her vlog against her parted lips.

It was enough to break the erotic spell surrounding them.

M shoved him hard, sending Loki stumbling back across the kitchen. She brandished the wooden spoon in front of her like a weapon, jabbing it toward his face. “Listen, asshole. You mess around with my vlog and I swear to God I will take down your beloved Wounded Warrior project so fast you won’t know what hit it, understand? You said we’re a team and this goes both ways. You can’t get the funding you need now without my help. I’m the one who has the leads. My leads, my mole. You’d be flying blind without me. The sooner you remember that, the sooner we can get this over with.” She turned back to the stove and stirred her pasta again. “Now get that sauce made so we can eat.”

4

“What’s your problem?” she asked Loki, as she peeked around the corner of the strip mall where they’d set up a second meeting with her seller from Craigslist. Loki had been acting weird since they’d left her apartment after dinner and she wasn’t about to sit here with a pouty man-baby all night. “You going to cry about it?”

“What?” He glanced over at her, annoyance written all over his handsome face. “No. I’m just not used to working without a disguise, that’s all. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”

She snorted. “There’s a dollar store over there. They might have a replacement fanny pack for you.”

He cut her off with a rude finger gesture. Nice. M grinned and turned back to watch for the white Honda Civic their mole said he’d be driving. Good thing this “team” between them was only temporary, because she found herself wanting this guy way more than she should. She was used to fast flings—wham, bam, thank you sir sort of deals. No muss, no fuss. No strings attached. But there was something about Loki that made her reconsider her choices. And for a gal in her profession that was far too dangerous. Not to mention that he looked better than a man should be allowed in those tight faded jeans and black T-shirt of his, the 80s death metal insignia notwithstanding. Her fingertips itched to dig into those taut chest muscles of his again, to feel his hard length pressed into the warm heat between her legs, to…

Thankfully an old Honda clunker

chugged into the parking lot at that moment, ending that forbidden train of thought. Yeah, she had it bad for this guy and that wasn’t good.

“C’mon. That’s him,” she said to Loki before straightening to smooth her hands down the front of her black leather miniskirt. She’d chosen to go for the punk rock look tonight, with a short black Mohawk wig and ripped fishnets beneath her skirt. Combat boots and a black leather bustier completed the ensemble. At least she had the satisfaction of Loki’s dazed stare to let her know she looked good. “I’ll act like I’m browsing the store windows while you sneak around back to keep him from running.”

Loki gave a curt nod then peered around her at the new arrival. “Shit.”

“What?” M scowled.

“I know that guy.”