Thirteen (Otherworld 13)

"Well, no, I guess not, but . . ." I looked at him. "I've been worrying."

"Shit." He moved in between my knees as I perched on the desk. He put his hands on my hips and met my eyes. "It wasn't supposed to worry you. It's just . . . something we need to discuss."

"Okay, so let's discuss."

He glanced at the closed door.

"Yes, we're wasting valuable private time," I said. I hesitated. How honest was I ready to be? There was part of me that wanted to play it cool. Casual. But it wasn't casual.

So I continued. "Truth is, normally I wouldn't have thought anything about it. Guy wants to talk? Sure. Whatever. But . . . I'm a little anxious here. A lot anxious."

"All right then. But I'll warn you this is the kind of conversation I've never initiated. And when a girl does? My cell miraculously starts vibrating, with an emergency call from the agency."

I smiled. "I've pulled that a few times myself."

"Which is why we get along so well. But this isn't . . . It's not the usual thing. Meet a girl. Hey, you wanna grab a drink some time? Hook up, break up, delete her number. Fun while it lasted. You're . . ." He exhaled again. Shifted his weight. "I've known you fore

ver. We work together. We hang out together. We share friends. We are friends. You know me better than anyone."

"So you don't want to start something and risk that."

He gave me a look. "Obviously I'm trying to start something. We've already started something. The big question is: What? Yeah, I know, you say you've been wanting this for a long time but . . . this might not be what you expected."

"Okay."

He hesitated, as if that wasn't the answer he expected. Or wanted.

I said, "I think, if I'm reading this right, you're not sure about rushing to tell Lucas and Paige because you're thinking maybe, after a few days, I'm going to say, 'Huh, not really what I hoped for,' and break it off. I can't imagine I would. But I'm thinking the same thing--about you. Maybe you're going to decide this isn't what you want. We already have something good, right?"

"We do."

"And we risk mucking it up entirely if we try to make it something better. There's no satisfaction guaranteed or your old relationship refunded. But if you're asking if I'm serious enough to give this a shot, I am. Are you?"

He held my eyes for a long second before saying, "Absolutely."

"Good. Now can we get back to the kissing part?"

As good as our earlier kisses had been, he'd been holding something back. Now I got the full deal, the deep, god-I-can't-breathe, god-I-don't-care version. Arms around him. Legs around him, too, heat scorching my thighs and everywhere in between and thinking it was just me until heat shot down my throat, like a sudden lick of flame, and I gasped.

"Shit," he muttered. "That's new. Sorry. Give me a sec."

He closed his eyes, concentrating on squelching the fire, but I pulled him back into the kiss, whispering, "Don't."

Licks of fire shot through me, from the heat of his hands, the heat of his skin--delicious pulses of flame. It wasn't long before I was tugging his shirt up, hands seeking bare skin, scorching hot skin and--

A throat cleared behind us. I broke away and caught my breath.

"Er, Troy," I said. "Sorry. Could we . . . get a few more minutes?"

Adam glanced over his shoulder. "Please. I promise, her body is well guarded."

"So I see," Troy said dryly.

Which wasn't Troy's style at all. My gaze shot to his eyes. Bright green eyes.

"Bal--" I started as I disentangled from Adam.

Then I stopped. The tone hadn't sounded like Balaam's. And the expression fixed on me--annoyance mingled with displeasure--wasn't Balaam's either.