Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5)

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Liar.”

“Egomaniac.”

“Touché, but you’ve got a lot of little tells.” He lightly touched the hollow of her throat. “Like this right here.”

“It’s a pulse, Swain. We all have one.”

“It’s a fast pulse. It says you’re amped up, as someone gets when she’s not a good liar. It says…hold on”—he turned and put his ear close to her throat—“it says, ‘Eden’s wondering.’”

“Eden is not wondering—”

“Shh.” His hair brushed her throat as he pretended to listen, causing a sensation so exquisite she couldn’t hold back the shiver. “It says, ‘Eden’s wondering what it would be like if I stripped us both naked and ran my mouth all over her body. Eden’s wondering if she could boss me around a bit, tell me where to linger—where to use my lips, where to use my tongue, where to be so gentle she can barely stand it, and where to be so rough she wants to scream.’”

“Swain…” Okay, that sounded less like a warning and more like a plea.

He took hold of her arms, just above her elbows. Not forcefully—she could definitely slide out of his grasp—but like a request. One she couldn’t find the strength to refuse.

“Eden’s wondering if I’ll beg her pussy for a chance to make up for being so selfish last night. Will I beg with my lips and tongue? Will I beg fast, or slow, or keep her guessing? Most importantly, will I beg for as long as it takes?”

Eden was going to melt into a puddle on the kitchen floor.

He drew back so their noses nearly touched and inhaled deeply. “Yes.”

His eyes were hypnotic. So blue. “Yes?” she murmured.

He swept the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “Yes, Eden, I will beg for as long as it takes.”

Oh, dear. She opened her mouth, completely unsure of what would come out. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Sweet Jesus, she didn’t think it was a good idea?

“Think about this, choux. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel good. Trust me.”

“I think…” The “trust me” filtered into her brain, and the one remaining self-preserving cell responded with a reminder. She was already further down that road than she’d intended to go.

Right. Her body wept, but the spell was broken. “I need a shower.”

Retreat was the safe choice, and she took it, slipping out of his hold, hurrying down the hall, not stopping until she was securely on the other side of the locked bathroom door. Locked to keep him out. Out of her space. Out of her head.

Come on, Eden, at least be honest. You didn’t lock the door to keep him out.

No. She’d locked it to keep herself in.

…

Since jacking off in the kitchen to the sound of Eden showering struck him as pathetic, Swain put on a shirt, grabbed his keys, and headed to the Pep Boys in Florence to do something about her car. He shot a text to her before he left, just to let her know where he’d gone. Like a good partner, because why end up on the couch for no decent reason?

The drive gave him thinking time. All in all, he wasn’t unhappy with how their conversation had gone. She might not like it, but she was wondering. Maybe not as much as he was wondering, but she was wondering. He remembered her hasty retreat to the shower and smiled. Curiosity was a powerful thing. It compelled people to cross oceans or shoot themselves into outer space. Surely it could drive Eden to find out what he could do for her when he wasn’t half stoned and shaking off a nightmare.

Hopefully curiosity proved powerful enough to bring her to him soon, because this op wasn’t going to take much longer, by his estimate. After this trip, Eden’s car would fit her cover, and she’d be mobile. She could spend her time shopping up a storm around town and telling everyone how excited she was about her big, fat, Bluelick wedding. They’d continue socializing with the boys, building that bond. Wednesday afternoon, they’d meet with Kenny’s mom and get the price tag on the reception, and then he’d go running to them, crying poverty and praying for a way to get the money. Those two would cave. True, they hadn’t given up anything but a laugh last night when he’d pointed to their half-smoked joint and said, “How much do you pay for that shit? Bet the guy who sells it to you can get his fiancée whatever overpriced bullshit she wants.”

Dobie would trip all over himself to please Eden. If necessary, she could flat-out ask him to set up a meet with his source. He’d do it. Whether the source would agree to a meeting was still an unknown, but he’d yet to meet a holder of illicit goods who wasn’t looking for a trustworthy distributor, meaning one who wouldn’t help himself to some percentage of the inventory. Thanks to last night, Kenny and Dobie would swear he wouldn’t touch a single leaf.

So, yeah, by next week at this time, th

e op could be over. After that, who knew? Eden would settle into her role in Bluelick PD. He would tackle the day-ins and day-outs of the county sheriff’s department. He’d rented a cabin way over on the outskirts of the county line, to be close to HQ but far enough away to enjoy some solitude. But he could break the lease and find something in Bluelick if…

If what? If she wants to squander her time on an ex-grifter who doesn’t have the pedigree to polish her shoes?

Okay, Jesus, he knew his limits, but she might spend time on a guy who could give her an orgasm on demand.