Code Name Heist (Jameson Force Security 3)

Saint groans, his eyes darkening. He advances on me, stopping when we’re toe to toe. “You had to remind me of that, didn’t you?” His tone is threatening, and it causes my skin to tingle.

Tentatively, I put a hand on his chest, hoping he sees the earnestness deep in my eyes. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, Saint. If there’s one thing I wish you would believe, it’s that I was crazy about you. I thought I was doing what was best for your safety. It was stupid, but I never meant for anything bad to happen to you. Never in a million years did I imagine it would affect you and your mother—”

His kiss is so hard it knocks me backward. But it doesn’t matter because he slides his arm around my waist to hold me tight. He brings his other palm up to cup the back of my head, rendering me immobile while he plunders my mouth.

Winding my arms around his neck, I kiss him back with all I have in me.

Saint pulls me tighter against his body, groaning deeply, and I feel him start to harden against my belly. Tearing his mouth away, he mutters, “Goddamn it, Sin… this is so fucking stupid.”

“Sex only,” I gasp. It’s meant as a reminder as he picks me up and carries me into the bedroom.

“Sex only,” he growls before he’s kissing me again.

He tosses me on the bed, but he only pulls me right back off so he can undress me. Clothes go flying; some get torn. But who the hell cares? This is well worth a ruined dress. It’s easier to get me naked. While I work on his clothes, he’s trying to touch me, which is too distracting.

“Hold still,” I demand, tearing his shirt open.

Saint bats my hands away. “You’re getting in the way.”

“Still bossy as ever.” I laugh, bringing shaky fingers to his fly. After I unzip it, I take his cock in hand, relishing the tortured sound he releases. “Remember that thing I used to do?”

“With your mouth?” he asks hopefully.

When I squeeze him in response, his head falls back. “Technically, it was my throat, but yes.”

His hand covers mine, holding me still, while his eyes pin me in place. “As much as I want your mouth on me, I need to be inside you too bad, Sin.”

Those words… he’s always had the power to reduce me to mush with them. As my knees go weak, I have to wonder why he isn’t already inside me.

There’s a moment… a sliver of time… where we’re both frozen as we stare at each other, but then we lunge. The remainder of our clothing disappears in a blink, then we’re on the bed in a tangle of limbs, roving hands, and entwined bodies.

His fingers end up between my legs and I’m embarrassed by how wet I am just from the anticipation of having him inside me. It’s been too long.

There hasn’t been anyone since him.

Which was way too long to go without, but no one would have compared, so I never even bothered.

A whimpered, “Please,” is all it takes for him to drive into me. When I let out a strangled scream of pleasure, he cuts it off with a kiss.

There’s nothing sweet about what we do next. It’s all frantic fucking, hair pulling, and gasped dirty words. Saint pounds me into the mattress, but I only beg him to go harder.

Make no mistake… there’s anger swirled within our lovemaking. It’s all directed at me. Even I’m furious with myself.

But hate sex can be amazingly good sex… or so I’m finding out.

Saint hikes one of my legs up, throws it over his shoulder, and plunges deep into me over and over again. My orgasm hovers right on the precipice. On a particularly merciless thrust, it breaks free, reducing me to nothing but mindless pleasure that has me chanting his name. Saint’s hips piston faster and faster until he goes utterly still, then shudders with his release. His groan is quiet, but it emanates from a place deep within him.

For a moment, he looks destroyed.

With a long gasp, Saint rolls to the side and slides out of me. He flops to his back, his chest heaving. I flip to my stomach, shifting closer so I can see him.

The sex was even more amazing than I remembered.

Him pulling away so soon after is a blunt reminder that this is indeed just sex to him. No feelings involved at all.

It leaves me feeling empty. I wonder if it’s the same for him, or if he just feels vindicated.

I don’t wait around to find out. Instead, I pat him once on the chest, working hard to make my voice flippant as I say, “That was great. Thanks, Saint.”

His head pops up, his hard eyes searching my face before he shoots me a lazy smile. “Next time you feel an itch, come see me, okay?”