My hands found his hair and pushed in, ruffling the perfect style and tangling at the base of his head.
I might have moaned.
It was all a blur.
My body was on overdrive and he was the one in control.
And then his hands cupped my face, anchoring it, holding it hostage as his lips ravaged mine some more. I met him kiss for kiss, and when his tongue tangled with mine, every muscle inside my body went lax.
Finally, he ripped his mouth free of mine.
His chest heaved, and with every deep draw of breath he took, he brushed against my chest, which felt swollen and sensitive. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound.
He gazed down at me, and even in the darkness I saw the intensity in those very green eyes. He looked completely and utterly satisfied with himself.
He reached out and ran his thumb along the bottom of my lower lip. The lip I knew without a doubt was swollen and pink.
“Tell me,” he murmured, caressing the fragile flesh of my mouth one last time. “If I kiss her like that, will she still believe you?”
His words penetrated the cloud around my head, the heavy fuzz of being extremely, thoroughly kissed.
It was all to prove a point.
He did this to me, revved my engine, made a complete and utter fool of me to prove a point.
And what was worse?
It worked.
I kicked him in the shin.
He groaned and bent forward.
“How freaking dare you!” I hissed. “Don’t you ever…” I paused to suck in a much-needed gulp of air. “Ever come near me with that lizard-like tongue of yours, ever again.”
He laughed.
He actually started laughing.
I kicked him again.
He groaned but then lunged at me, grabbing my arm and yanking me up against his chest.
My freaking body was a traitor and it shifted toward him. He chuckled knowingly.
I was about to scream bloody murder and create the scene to end all scenes when the valet cleared his throat behind us.
Charming stiffened and released me, spinning around so fast that I wobbled on my feet.
“Your car, ma’am,” he said.
I stepped around Charming, avoiding any and all contact with him. Touching him again was the last thing I wanted. I stopped in front of the valet with my chin held high. “Thank you,” I said and jerked my head in Charming’s direction. “The gentleman there has your tip.”
Charming made a sound and I smiled at the young valet. “He’s loaded. Don’t take less than a twenty.”
Then I walked, very steadily I might add, over to my Jeep, climbed in, and slammed the door. I didn’t look back as I drove away.
I didn’t need to.
I knew exactly what I was leaving behind.
And I was very afraid that this time I was in way over my head.
Chapter Nine
“Pizza - an oven-baked, flat, disc-shaped bread typically topped with a tomato sauce, cheese (usually mozzarella), and various toppings, depending on the culture.”
Charming
I handed the valet a twenty as the taillights of her Jeep disappeared around the corner. She was a piece of work. Showing up here tonight, hell-bent on screwing up my plans, telling everyone she was my sister.
I made a sound of disgust in the back of my throat as I headed up the stairs, back into the ball, where hopefully I could reverse whatever damage she had done.
Gay. She freaking told my Target I was gay.
I should have strangled her for that.
But I had my revenge. I got her curvy, sassy body all turned on. It must suck to be so turned on by someone you hate.
There was some movement off to my right, over in the darkened part of the huge stone patio that wrapped itself around the entire front of the home. It was a shadow within a shadow.
A low curse fell off my lips. As if this night hadn’t been screwed up enough.
Making sure that no one outside paid me any attention, I made my way over into the darkness, away from prying eyes. I leaned up against the side of the house and looked around for more movement. He was there to my left, trying, I would guess, not to be seen.
“I thought Ghost Escorts were supposed to be invisible,” I said flat. Ghost Escorts were another version of a Death Escort. Except they didn’t kill. Their job was to stay in their “ghost” form—meaning G.R. wouldn’t let them have a body—and they used their “ghost” status to follow Targets around and watch them. They also watched the Death Escorts and reported everything they saw back to G.R.
A very colorful twist on a curse word came out of the dark, and I was impressed. But I didn’t show it. He was following me. If I wasn’t already on G.R.’s shit list, I would have killed him right then, but killing another Escort is definitely against company policy.
“Why are you following me?”
“Shit, man. You saw me?”
“I think that much is obvious.”
“Not again,” he muttered and I glanced in his direction.
“You mean this isn’t the first time you got caught spying on someone?”
“For the record, it isn’t spying when you’re being paid to do it. It’s surveillance. And yeah… I got caught before. On my last job.”
“Which one are you?” It annoyed me that all the Ghost Escorts were black. I knew being so dark was what made them blend so well into the shadows, but it also made it very hard to tell them apart.
“Storm.”
“You were the Ghost assigned to Dex,” I said, my interest perking a bit.
“Yeah. He was cool. We were gonna chill on a beach once his job was done. But then you screwed it all up for him and he got Recalled.”
“I screwed it all up for him?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t been so hardcore after his Target, he wouldn’t have felt the need to protect her instead of kill her.”
“I wouldn’t have been so hardcore if he’d just done his damn job.” I growled.
“Guess it doesn’t really matter now.”
“Why are you following me?”
“Man, I don’t know what the hell you did, but G.R. is hating on you hard right now. So hard I didn’t even get a vacation between jobs. He wants you watched twenty-four-seven.”
First he gives me a lecture, assigns me an impossible Target, stations me in this godforsaken iceberg, and now he’s having me followed? I was really beginning to hate that guy.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want or need a babysitter. So you can just go on and spy on someone else.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Storm said, his voice going cold.