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Code Name Ghost (Jameson Force Security 5)

Page 43

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Anna’s arms go around my neck as she presses her body tightly into mine. I should be embarrassed she can feel my need for her pressed into her belly, but I’m not. Just as I hope she’s not embarrassed by the way she growls from the sensation, biting down hard on my lower lip.

I spin her away from the stove, back her into the wall, and kiss her more deeply. She lifts a leg, wrapping it around mine in an effort to get our pelvises in better alignment.

Our kiss goes from tentative to lightening in about five seconds flat. Already, I think I might die if I can’t feel more of her. Sink deep inside of her.

Too soon, Malik.

It is with a massive amount of self-control and effort I pull away from the kiss before it can go any farther. Anna and I are just about a few heartbeats from shedding clothes. As much as I want to be with her in that way, I can’t when there are still so many things between us.

I kiss her one more time, full and deep, but then gently withdraw so I can examine her. Her eyes flutter open, and she looks about as dazed as I feel.

“Too fast?” she murmurs.

“Too fast,” I agree. “We have to talk.”

Anna exhales as I take a step away from her. She brushes a lock of hair from her face, giving me a tremulous smile. “We have to be the only people in the world attracted to each other who need to have a serious talk before we do anything about it.”

She’s probably right about that. Most people who decide to have sex with each other operate on instinct, let their feelings alone drive them forward to a conclusion. Anna and I have too much at stake, though. While I hate to describe myself as such, we’re both vulnerable and perhaps susceptible to the influence we hold over each other.

We have to go into this with open eyes and clear consciences.

“But that kiss was really good, right?” she asks impishly.

“Really fucking good,” I reply. I know whatever comes next will be even better.

If we can agree on how to get there, or if we should even go there at all.

“Let’s eat dinner,” Anna suggests. “And after, we can talk. After that, who knows?”

It’s a solid plan, and I nod my assent. What I have to decide is how far do I want to go with this woman? She’s not anything I was searching for, yet I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else.

In order to even consider it as a possibility, I’ll have to do the one thing I’m not sure I have the guts to do.

Tell her the truth about Jimmy’s death.

It makes me want to vomit.

“Think we can talk now?” I ask. If I’m going to do this, I have to get it off my chest to let the chips fall where they may.

Anna takes my hand, then leads me to the couch in the living room. She releases her hold just as we reach it, pointing at one end. After I sink down on it, Anna takes a position on the opposite end, a single cushion forming the distance between us. She curls her legs up, her back to the armrest and her hands folded in her lap. Her expression is open and trusting.

Having such faith in me that I don’t deserve makes my stomach twist into a hard knot.

I start off carefully, acknowledging what has developed between us. “You and I… we have a connection that is hard to explain.”

Anna nods, presenting me with a reassuring smile.

“And I’m grateful for it,” I say truthfully. “It wasn’t something I was expecting or looking for. Serendipity, I guess, but it makes me happy. You make me happy.”

“I feel the same,” she murmurs.

I don’t even bother with a steadying breath. If I take the time to do it, I might chicken out on what really needs to be said, so I just go ahead and lay it out there in all its blunt cruelty. “It’s my fault Jimmy and Sal died.”

It’s as if I physically struck Anna when she reels backward, her hands coming to cover her heart. “That’s not true,” she whispers.

“It is.” My gaze stays locked on her, refusing to look away even though it fucking hurts to see the horror on her face.

“I don’t believe it,” she mutters, her gaze sliding off to the side as she becomes lost in thought. “Someone would have told me.”

“It’s probably—”

She cuts me off, head whipping back my way as she angrily demands. “Explain.”

So I do.

I tell her how the events unfolded with the Brits being fired upon and my mistaken conclusion that Jimmy and Sal were in a somewhat safe position behind me since the enemy fire seemed to only be coming from our front. Without any gory details, I explain what happened to Jimmy and Sal while I was raining down protective fire for the British Special Forces. That the fault for Jimmy and Sal getting ambushed laid squarely on my shoulders since I was in an equally good position to protect them instead.



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