The Gallows at Midnight (Agents of Interpol 2)

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Blake’s voice is amused.

“Patrols start tonight. From now on, no one goes outside after dark. Stay away from the tree line and make sure an agent is armed and with you at all times.”

His chair scrapes across the floor and he grabs my elbow as I head for the door.

“Lily, you need to rest.”

“I need to do my job,” I say sternly.

He cups the side of my face, thawing my insides a little. Even after everything that’s happened, he’s still the only person who can calm me with a simple touch. I crave this feeling. His skin on mine, the desire it elicits coursing through me, heating my body throughout.

“Babe, please be reasonable. Someone can patrol until you’re healed.”

His eyes are tight with fear. I’ve come to know his facial expression so well it’s scary.

Leaning up, I lightly press my lips to his. “I’ll be fine. I doubt anything will happen after the snake incident, but I need to be out there tonight. Please trust me.”

“I do, but I want you to get better.”

I smile, trailing the tip of my index finger along his bottom lip. He pouts, kissing it. “Go eat and then get some rest. I’ll be in at sunrise.”

My boots thud against the hardwood, echoing through the room in a way that makes my stomach tight. Something is going to happen . . . and soon. I can feel it, like before, when Khoui raided the apartment. They won’t get the upper hand this time, that’s for damn sure.

†††

By five a.m. exhaustion pulls on my eyelids so hard it’s ridiculous. Blake is sound asleep as I curl up beside him on the king-sized bed. He’s in flannel pajama pants, no shirt. His chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm.

He rolls, facing me, his eyes fluttering open. A smile spreads across his face, taking my breath away. He reaches out and runs his fingers through my hair lazily, and my eyes close at his touch.

“Good morning, baby,” he whispers.

I open my eyes and scoot closer to him until his body is flush against mine. His morning erection presses into my hip and my desire spikes, my belly and sex clenching with need.

“Morning, love.”

“Anything happen last night?”

“You would’ve heard if it did. I forgot to grab my silencer when I got dressed,” I chuckle.

“You should get some rest.”

“I will.”

Tangling my fingers in his hair, his lips meet mine with force. He rolls, snuggling between my legs, propped on his elbows. I run my fingernails down his neck and across his shoulder blades, a low growl seeping from his throat.

Like a frantic teenager, he rears up and we both scramble to remove the clothing keeping our skin apart. He slams into me, my back arching off the bed. Wrapping his arms around me, he drags me up, so we’re nose to nose, and pounds into me.

I moan and match his every move, my insides quickening and begging for release.

“Ah, damn it, Blake,” I growl as he lays me back down, hitches my leg up without missing a beat.

“Come on, Lily,” he says in my ear and I spiral, my orgasm ripping through me like a knife through cotton.

He slams into me two more times and finds his own release before lying on top of me, propped on his elbows again. He kisses me, soft and lovingly, in complete contrast with the punishing intensity in which we made love. This is what I love about Blake. He can be rough and gentle almost at the same time.

“I meant what I said the other day. I don’t want to wait to marry you.”

I chuckle and run my tongue along his jaw. “So, plan a wedding.”