Black and Blue (Otherworld Assassin 2)

Blue stood behind the counter and, without moving a muscle, used his power to push a plate of spaghetti across the counter.

“Thanks,” she mouthed—and had to force herself to look away from him before she started drooling. Could the man never wear a shirt?

I’ve had that chest pressed against mine, but I failed to touch or taste it. Bad Evie!

It would be a lifelong regret.

“I wanted to ask . . . how things are going with Blue?” There was something odd about her father’s tone.

“Fine,” she said, grateful he couldn’t see the sudden color in her cheeks. “Why?”

“Are you two . . .”

She stifled a groan. “Fighting? No.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Too bad for you, because that’s the only question I’m willing to answer.”

“Sorry, sunbeam, but this is important. I love the man, I do, but he’s not right for you.”

“You think I don’t know that? And anyway, what brought this on?” she asked.

“I keep remembering the way you looked at him.”

How had she looked at him?

Blimey. Had Blue noticed?

Blue stepped around her, getting in her face, clearly concerned. He mouthed, “Something wrong?”

“My father is butting into something that is not his business,” she said, loud enough for both men to hear.

Blue straightened with a snap and paled, confusing her. Had he guessed what she meant? Was he offended—hurt by her father’s lack of trust?

The thought of Blue hurt . . . upset her.

Michael sighed. “All right. I’ll let it go. I just . . . I care about you, want the best for you.”

“Then why did you visit me only seven times while I was overseas?” The question left her before she could stop it, the neediness of her tone embarrassing her.

He heaved another sigh. “Your mom . . . are you sure you want to hear this?”

Mum had interfered? “Yes.”

“She threatened to hide you from me, and she was a good enough agent that I knew she could do it. I took whatever scraps she let me have, and pounced the moment you were legal.”

“Oh.” “Oh”? That’s all you have to say? Her entire outlook had just been turned inside out. Years of upset, for no reason. “Dad—” she croaked.

“No, it’s all right. It’s okay. I knew why you were holding me at a distance, and I couldn’t blame you. I’ve often thought I should have risked everything and just taken you away.”

She blinked away a prickle of tears. “Just knowing you wanted to . . . thank you,” she said.

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat as if he were having a little problem with tears, too. “I trained you to be an agent so that I could have more time with you. And you far surpassed my expectations. You should come back to work for me.”

“No.” She hadn’t changed her mind. When this was over, she was going back to her old life, where the lives of strangers rested in her hands—not the lives of loved ones.

“Stubborn,” he muttered. “Look, I’ve been watching the video and listening to the feed you sent me. I found a clip of Star at the Lucky Horn the day before the explosion, but there’s no audio, so I can only guess that’s when the bombing was being planned. Then, in the live feed from his estate, I heard something interesting.”

“What?”

“I’ll text you the details. Tomorrow morning, you and Blue have a new mission.”

The line went dead.

She set down her phone, scooped up her plate, and settled in at the table where Blue waited. He hadn’t yet touched his food. Had waited for her like a proper gentleman. She would have thought him calm if not for the tendrils of power now falling over her.

They were strongest when he was upset . . . or aroused. Right now, they were very strong.

So which was he?

Trembling, she picked up her fork. He picked up his, and she was momentarily blinded to all but his long, blunt-tipped fingers. I’ve had those inside me.

“Tell me about Claire,” he said, voice flat, utterly emotionless.

Instant mood killer!

Why did he want to know? Why was he pressing this yet again? “No,” she said.

He stared at her, unwavering. “Have you ever talked about it with anyone?”

“No.” And she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

His nod of acceptance was stiff.

Silent, they picked at their food for a few minutes. He was a good cook, and that kind of sucked, because it meant he was good at everything he did. That he had no deficiencies.

Soon the tension got to her, his power still stroking over her, revving her up so much that liquid heat began to pool between her legs. Her voice was raspy as she said, “Are we ever going to talk about what happened in my foyer . . . and my office?”

“Yes. But not now.”

What? Why? “When?”

“Soon. I hope.”

Not good enough. She dropped her fork and glared at him. “Why wait?”

His gaze raked over her, and heated, the lavender darkening to a deep, rich plum. “Feeling needy, princess?”

Yes!

Can’t lie to him. So, instead of answering, she hopped to her feet. “If you don’t want me anymore, just say it. I’m a big girl and I don’t need coddling.”

He remained silent.

Figured. She stepped around him with every intention of storming off. But he grabbed her by the waist and jerked her onto his lap. Those thick, muscular thighs. But he didn’t keep her there. He pushed the plates aside and set her on the table.

“I want you. I always want you.” He unfastened her pants and tugged them and her knickers down her legs, leaving her bare from the waist down. “Now spread your legs.”

She obeyed, but not quickly enough for his taste. He placed his palms on her knees, his skin so hot the contact burned, burned so good, and pushed her thighs apart, as wide as they would go. Exposing her. Making her vulnerable to his view.

He just sat there, looking at her. Heat in his glowing eyes. Expression taut. A charge thickened the air, and she found it difficult to breathe. She trembled, almost violently. Waiting was a beautiful agony . . . and then just agony.

“Please.” Begging him again? Yes. If that’s what it took.

“Oh, I’ll give you something.”

“Will you give me everything?”

“You’re so pretty here,” he said, ignoring her question. “I think it’s time for dessert.” And then he was on her, his mouth where she needed him. Hot and insistent, stoking her desire higher and higher with every flick of his masterful tongue. He licked up and down, from side to side, and all she could do was roll her hips and seek more.