Read Midnight Pursuits Page 8


  And his body was so damn hard. Like a brick wall. Solid, unyielding. A thrill shot through her as she envisioned that sexy body crushing hers, powerful hips thrusting as he fucked her good and hard. Or maybe it would be more thrilling feeling all that power beneath her, while she straddled his thighs and rode them both straight to heaven.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. She had to get ahold of herself. No, of her hormones. Hot bod aside, Ethan Hayes was a kid, not to mention the furthest thing from her type. Juliet gravitated toward men with two distinct traits: temporary and complication-free.

  And Ethan was neither of those. Screwing him would bring complications galore, and she doubted the word temporary even existed in the guy’s vocabulary. He had steady boyfriend written all over him.

  “You know, it won’t kill you to admit you’re enjoying my company,” he said as they moved together to the slow beat.

  She was quick to correct him. “I’m tolerating your company. There’s a difference.”

  He dipped his head, his warm breath fanning over her ear. “You’re so full of shit.”

  “Oh, am I?”

  “Yep.”

  Her pulse sped up when he dragged his palm over the small of her back in a soft caress. Their lower bodies weren’t touching, but she knew he had an erection. He’d been hard on more than one occasion these past two days, a response he hadn’t tried hiding from her. Neither of them had mentioned the evidence of his arousal, however.

  Until now.

  “I make you hard, don’t I, rookie?” At five-nine, she was a tall woman, but still several inches shorter than Ethan, and so she had to stand on her tiptoes in order to let her lips brush his earlobe. “Don’t bother denying it—I know you want me.”

  He tensed for a moment, then relaxed. Chuckled softly. “I wasn’t going to deny it.”

  “If you think we’re going to fall into bed, forget about it. I’m not going to fuck you.”

  That large, warm hand stroked her lower back again. Sensual and seductive.

  “I mean it,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I’m not interested.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so.” Frustration climbed up her chest. “I’m not hard up for sex, and even if I was, I wouldn’t have it with you.”

  “And why is that again?”

  She had to lift her head to meet his eyes, which were glimmering with amusement. “Because I’m not interested.”

  “Be more specific, sweetheart. Tell me why you’re never, ever gonna have sex with me.”

  He was taunting her now and, goddamn it, that got her pulse going too. She lived for this kind of stuff—verbal foreplay, sexy exchanges, witty banter.

  But no matter how much fun it was, she still knew she couldn’t hook up with the guy.

  “You want me to list all the reasons? Fine. One, you’re just a kid. Two, you’re so damn sweet you give me a toothache. Three, I’ve got a job to concentrate on. Four, I’m not interested in becoming the latest wife of a Jim Morgan crew member. Five, even if you were older and not so gratingly nice, I can’t imagine you ever giving me what I need in the bedroom. The end.”

  Her speech only resulted in bringing a broad grin to his mouth. “You’re vibrating.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your phone is vibrating. I can feel it against my leg.”

  Juliet clenched her teeth, pissed that she’d gotten so caught up in their exchange that she’d been completely unaware of the vibrations coming from her front pocket.

  “Looks like our little dance is over,” she told him.

  They both knew she was referring to more than the physical dance they’d just shared.

  Sliding her hand into her pocket, Juliet drew out her phone and glanced at the display. Paige. Finally.

  She promptly pressed TALK and said, “Hey, babe. Took you long enough.”

  “Keep up that attitude and I’ll quit doing favors for you, Jules,” Paige replied in her crisp British accent. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you catch more flies with honey?”

  “Well, maybe if you hadn’t taken your sweet-ass time I wouldn’t be so impatient.”

  “Says the woman who dumped twelve names in my lap and wanted a thorough background check on each of them. Sean and I had to split up the workload, by the way. He should be e-mailing you his findings as we speak. I just sent you mine.” Paige sounded amused now. “Oh, and just for my own curiosity, I pulled up your new partner’s military file. He’s cute.”

  Juliet avoided Ethan’s eyes. “It’s business.”

  “Uh-huh. I’m sure it is.” Paige laughed in delight. “I expect details the next time you come to London. Now, go and check your in-box. I jotted down some notes and observations in the e-mail, but call me if you have any follow-up questions.”

  Paige hung up without saying good-bye, though Juliet had no idea why the woman was so eager to get off the phone. Paige lived in an isolated cottage in Northern England, and God knew what she did with her time, out in the middle of nowhere all by her lonesome. Juliet would go nuts living that way. She needed action, excitement, stimulation that didn’t come from reading books in front of an old fireplace.

  “Was that Paige?” Ethan asked in a low voice.

  She nodded. “C’mon, let’s go back to the room. I need my laptop.”

  They headed for the door, reaching it just as another hotel guest sauntered in. A tall, heavyset man in a crisp blue suit, with salt-and-pepper hair combed to perfection and harsh, arrogant features.

  He bumped into Juliet upon his entrance, but didn’t apologize for his rudeness. Rather, he swept his gaze over her tight black jeans and purple V-neck sweater, his dark eyes resting way too long on her chest.

  “You should watch where you’re going,” he said in Russian, then proceeded to add an endearment that roughly translated to sugar tits.

  Juliet offered him a cool look. “Call me that again and I’ll break your arm.”

  Displeasure flashed in his eyes. Instead of answering, he turned to Ethan and said, “Control your woman before someone controls her for you.”

  Ethan ignored the man completely. Just brushed past him, taking Juliet’s arm in the process. She followed him without complaint. As tempted as she was to kick the rude jerk in the balls, she knew they couldn’t draw attention to them and jeopardize the mission.

  “What an ass,” she muttered as they left the lounge.

  “The world is full of asses. No point in letting them get to you.” He paused. “Sugar tits.”

  “Oooh, somebody knows his Russian,” she teased.

  “I get by. Probably not as well as you, though. How many languages do you speak again? A billion?”

  “Six.” She stuck out her tongue. “Did Isabel tell you that, or did you boys run a check on me?”

  “Actually, Abby told me.”

  “And when were you and Abby talking about little old me?”

  They bypassed the elevator and stepped into the stairwell, with Ethan taking the lead. She’d been thrilled to discover that, like her, Ethan avoided elevators at all costs. Other operatives she’d worked with in the past hadn’t seemed to mind riding the elevator, but Juliet would rather climb twenty flights of stairs than be stuck in a box that could malfunction at any second. It always went back to self-preservation for her. No way would she ever allow herself to be trapped somewhere and take the risk of getting caught again.

  “Abby and I talk about a lot of people,” Ethan said noncommittally.

  “Funny, because the Abby I know isn’t much of a talker.” In fact, Abby Sinclair was the most tight-lipped person Juliet had ever met, after Noelle, of course. But not even Juliet could deny that the former assassin had mellowed since falling in love and marrying Ethan’s teammate Kane.

  “She talks to me all the time,” he added. “Maybe it’s because
she knows there’s no threat of me blabbing her secrets.”

  “You are the least threatening guy on the planet,” Juliet replied cheerfully.

  Annoyance flickered in his eyes. “The men I’ve killed would probably disagree with that.”

  “Oooh, look at the tough guy. I’m soooo intimidated.”

  They reached the second-floor stairwell and headed back to the room. Much to her irritation, Ethan went in first, his hand poised over the gun butt beneath his waistband. As if she weren’t perfectly capable of checking out the space herself.

  “You really need to quit doing that,” she muttered.

  “Doing what?”

  “Protecting me.” She used air quotes around the words. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah? It didn’t seem that way a few days ago.”

  “You give yourself too much credit. I would’ve managed to find some antibiotics on my own.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His visible amusement raised her hackles. “Seriously, I don’t need your protection, kiddo.”

  He locked the door and glanced over with a frown. “I’m not a kid. And stop trying to goad me.”

  “Goad you into what? All I’m saying is you need to drop the big tough-guy act. You and Morgan and the rest of his men treat every woman like she’s a damsel in distress. But I’m no damsel, okay? I really can take care of myself.” She paused impishly. “Then again, I suppose if I must have a man protecting me, I could do worse than Jim Morgan. He’s sexy as sin, that boss of yours.”

  Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Again with the goddamn goading.”

  Fine, so maybe she was goading him. Juliet wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to pick a fight. Maybe it was the impatience. The frustration. The overwhelming grief from knowing her brother was gone. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t seem to stop the next taunt that flew out of her mouth.

  “Hey, don’t get all prickly, kiddo. I’m simply commenting on the fact that Morgan is sexy. Maybe I should give him a call when this is over, see if he’s interested in a little romp between the sheets—”

  “Don’t fucking test me,” Ethan growled.

  In the blink of an eye, she found herself on the other side of the room, pushed up against the wall with Ethan’s hard thigh between her legs to trap her in place.

  Her breath caught, pulse sped up. He’d moved so quickly she hadn’t had time to react, but even though she was kicking herself at being unprepared for his stealth attack, she still managed to cock a defiant brow. “A tantrum. How cute. Are you done?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  One warm male hand clutched her waist, while the other gripped her chin with such force she actually experienced a pang of trepidation.

  “I know what you see when you look at me. The boy next door, nice and sweet and harmless.” Ethan’s voice lowered to a deadly pitch. “You see me and you think I’m the guy who’ll make love to you in a room full of flowers and candlelight. You picture sweet, sweet kisses and oh so tender caresses—isn’t that right, Juliet?”

  Her heart began to pound, a sharp staccato that pulsed in her blood and drowned out her thoughts. The look on Ethan’s face was terrifying. Thrilling. His hazel eyes gleamed with raw heat. Unadulterated danger.

  “Well, think again, sweetheart. I’m not a fucking pussycat. And I’m not a fucking kid.”

  Juliet was so aroused, she couldn’t breathe. “Who are you, then?”

  “A man.” He rotated his hips, grinding his pelvis into hers. “Feel that?”

  Oh . . . God. He was long, thick, and hard.

  “That’s right. I’m a man.” His chuckle was downright mocking. “What was it you said before? That I can’t give you what you need in the bedroom? Well, I beg to differ, sweetheart. I beg to fucking differ.”

  Juliet still couldn’t draw a breath. All she could do was stare into those hypnotic eyes.

  “What, no response?” he taunted. “No sassy comeback?”

  Before she could say a solitary word, his mouth came crashing down on hers in a hard kiss that made her gasp.

  His lips were merciless, his tongue demanding entrance. Her lips parted of their own volition and then that tongue was diving into her mouth and teasing the living daylights out of her.

  Juliet couldn’t control herself—she kissed him back. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her lower body strained to get closer to his. She couldn’t remember the last time a kiss had set her body on fire this way. Every inch of her burned, every muscle tight with anticipation.

  He drove the kiss even deeper, his hands sliding down to cup her ass so he could yank her against him. The moment she felt that spectacular erection pressing against her stomach, she moaned and rocked into him. Needing more. Craving more.

  For a solid minute, his tongue filled her mouth, exploring, claiming. And then in another blink of the eye, it was gone. He’d taken a step back, breaking the contact and leaving her with a feeling of pure desperation.

  He laughed when he noticed her expression. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

  She didn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right. Her eyes and body had already betrayed her anyway.

  Ethan looked mighty pleased with himself as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s not going to happen.”

  “Why the hell not?” she found herself demanding.

  “Well, I could blame it on your staunch declaration about how you’re never going to have sex with me, but we both know you were lying through your teeth. And anyway, I’m nothing if not honest, so . . .” He looked very, very smug now. “I’ll have you know that I don’t put out on the first date.”

  Juliet stared at him for a moment.

  Then she burst out laughing.

  Shit, this was priceless. The man had just destroyed her with his kiss, turned her into a puddle of mush at his feet, and then he went and threw a gentleman curveball at her.

  Still laughing, she gestured to the drab hotel room. “You consider this a date?”

  “We just came back from having drinks and sharing a dance.” He shrugged. “That’s probably as close to a date as we’re ever gonna get.”

  Her head was still light and gooey from that body-numbing kiss, but she managed to voice another question. “Out of curiosity, what do you do on the second date?”

  The grin he shot her melted her insides. “I subscribe to baseball rules, of course. First, second, third, and then I screw your brains out.”

  Damned if her sex didn’t clench at the thought.

  He must have sensed the erotic response, because his eyes darkened with sensual promise. “Don’t worry, Juliet. We’ll get there.”

  She wanted to deny it. To tell him he was a million kinds of arrogant and fucked-up if he thought she would hop into bed with him just because she’d happened to enjoy one measly kiss.

  But the denial stayed lodged in her throat.

  “Anyway, where’s your laptop?” Ethan said pleasantly. “Let’s see what Paige sent us.”

  As he stalked over to her bag in search of her computer, she stood there in slight disbelief, torn between kicking him and ripping his clothes off.

  The uncontrollable pounding of her heart and the persistent throb low in her belly confirmed what she’d already known—it was always the unassuming ones you had to worry about.

  Chapter 7

  It took sheer power of will on Ethan’s part to ignore the overpowering lust sizzling in his body. As Juliet logged into her secure e-mail and downloaded the attachments from Paige and Sean, he took several deep breaths and ordered his erection to subside. Which was difficult, especially since Juliet had just slipped out of her long-sleeved shirt, leaving her in a tight black tank top that hugged her full breasts.

  When his gaze landed on the cluster of nautical stars tattooe
d on her upper arms, another ripple of desire washed over him. The tattoos were tiny, done only in black ink, and they gave her a sexy, badass vibe that at the same time managed to look feminine.

  Christ, he wanted this woman. She intrigued him to no end, and the arousal she evoked in him was like nothing he’d ever experienced. It hadn’t been like this with the girl he’d been dating in Costa Rica. They’d gone out for dinner, took a couple midnight strolls on the beach, slept together a few times—but not once had he thought he might pass out from raw need, or ached to get a glimpse into her soul the way he did when it came to Juliet Mason.

  She was different. Special. A mystery he wanted to solve with a steely exterior he wanted to conquer.

  “Okay,” Juliet announced a moment later. “We’ve got dossiers on the nine targets Grechko already hit.” Her dark eyes focused intently on the screen. “Huh. This is weird.”

  “What is it?” he said sharply, joining her on the edge of the bed.

  “These three—Pavel Drygin, Grigory Novik, and Irina Bartney—were killed in a series of car bombings back in May, within a day or two of each other. They were all connected to members of the House of Representatives, and, according to the news clipping Paige attached, their deaths were blamed on the PRF.”

  Something clicked in Ethan’s brain. “You’re right. I remember seeing it on the news. The PRF leader actually came forward and took responsibility for the bombings.”

  Since Ethan made it a priority to be aware of whatever current threats were out there in the world, he was familiar with the PRF and knew the basics about the movement. The People’s Revolutionary Front was a terrorist group that had been wreaking havoc on Belarus for several years now. They were staunchly opposed to the current government and disgusted with the corruption that ran rampant among its officials. When the PRF first cropped up years ago, they’d taken a strictly nonviolent approach, but they’d drastically changed their MO since then, which didn’t surprise him.

  Maybe he was being overly cynical, but if peaceful protests actually produced results, God knew he and his team would probably be out of work.