Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents 7)

And as soon as he did hear them, everything changed for Dylan.

He turned fully toward her. Arousal had flooded through him at her soft words. He didn’t want to be in that car then. He wanted to take Rachel away from that place. He wanted to get lost in her.

Rachel’s thick lashes lowered. “But you’re my closest friend, Dylan. The only man that I truly trust. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” His promise.

She licked her lips.

And Dylan couldn’t take any more. He pulled her as close as he could get her and his mouth took hers.

The kiss was hard, deep and he knew that the lust he felt for Rachel wasn’t going to be contained, not any longer.

For three years, he’d played by the rules. Been the good guy.

He was tired of being good. Rachel was about to learn just how far he would be willing to go in order to have her.

I will do anything.

Her mouth opened beneath his. Her nails sank into his shoulders as she held him just as tightly as he held her. Her taste was as addictive as before, driving him wild. His tongue thrust into her mouth, and arousal flooded through him as he tasted her. Her taste was both rich and sweet, and he wanted more.

But not here. Not now.

Dylan let the kiss linger just a few moments more. Because he had to take more.

But then he pulled back. Damn reluctantly. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes gleamed.

“There’s no going back now,” he warned her.

Rachel’s breath rushed out. “I should be saying that to you. You’re the one walking into danger.”

He was ready for it. She needed to be ready for what was coming, too.

“It’s not...not just part of a cover, is it?” Rachel asked him.

That question had anger piercing through him. “No.”

“Because I need honesty between us. No matter what.”

He nodded. “And you know what I need?” The gloves were off.

“What?” A whisper from her.

“You. Naked. Beneath me.”

He saw her pupils spread. Her breathing kicked up a little more.

“And I’ll have that,” Dylan promised her.

* * *

JACK WHISTLED AS he headed up the stone steps that would take him to his prey.

An old acquaintance, one who’d called him back to town.

Jack knocked on the door. He waved to the nosy neighbor across the street. She waved back.

He didn’t worry about the woman being able to identify him. He had on a baseball cap. A loose sweatshirt. Jogging shorts. He looked like any of the other dozen joggers currently running down the street.