The Agent Next Door (10 page)

John froze. “Erin.” Another warning.

She didn’t stop.

Suddenly, she was off the counter and
supported in his arms. Erin clung to him, wrapping her arms and
legs around his torso. He walked out of the kitchen as if she
weighed nothing. Down the hallway. To the bedroom.

Erin's head swam.
This wasn’t really
happening, was it?

The answer came as John kicked open the
door.

It was.

The blinds were closed tight, and the room
was darker than the rest of the house. John didn’t slow his step.
He went right over to the bed and draped her across it. A moment
later, he stretched out next to her.

As much as she loved looking at him, she was
grateful for the darkness. Especially when he pulled her shirt over
her head. He unhooked the back of her bra with a flick of his
fingers. Her jeans were the next to go.

There was no way she was going to let him
anywhere near a light switch now. Hell, there was probably too much
ambient light as it was. What were the chances he would get one
good look at her and come to his senses?

Erin distracted herself from the
disheartening thought by pulling him close and kissing him hard.
She stroked her hands up and down his back, desperate to feel every
inch of his body while she had the chance.

John must have felt the sudden change in her
energy. He slid his hand up to her breastbone and gently pressed
her back down into the mattress. Erin's fingers bit into the bed
sheets as his other hand slipped under the silk of her panties. His
palm cupped her mound as he covered her body with his. She arched
her back as his fingertips slipped over the bud of her clit.

“God, you're so wet.” His voice was tight,
but he didn’t rush her. He moved his fingers in patient circles,
allowing the tension to build, waiting until her breath and body
matched the rhythm he set before speeding the tempo of his
touch.

She teetered on the edge. So close. So very
close.

Erin hissed in frustration when, just before
she could crest, he pulled away. She heard the drawer of the
bedside table slide open. A moment later, he was back, positioned
between her legs. One push and he was deep inside her.

Air filled Erin’s lungs in one giant rush.
She grasped onto his shoulders. They both stilled as his hips came
to rest against her legs. He pressed his forehead against hers. His
ragged breath fell across her cheeks. His back was tense. His arms
were locked and shaking by the side of her head where he propped
himself above her.

Even in the darkness Erin could make out his
features. He was a man teetering on the brink of control—eyes
closed, brow furrowed, teeth bared. It looked as if at any moment
that he might lose that tight grip on his control.

Suddenly, there was nothing that Erin wanted
more than to feel the full force of his passion, to watch the dam
break, to swim in the flood that followed.

Slowly, so slowly, he pulled out. Then slid
back again. All the tension that he’d so masterfully built inside
her came roaring back to life.

She arched her body into his. She licked at
his bottom lip. He moaned in pleasure.

It wasn't enough. She wanted more. She sucked
the swell of his lip into her mouth, teasing it between her
teeth.

He snapped. For a moment Erin feared that
she’d wished for something more dangerous than she could
handle.

He swept her on top of him. His hands held
her hips still as he pounded in and out of her, faster and faster,
until Erin couldn't bear anymore. She cried out as her body
clenched tight around his shaft.

But he didn't stop. Instead, he rolled her
over onto her side in front of him. His arm wrapped around her, his
hands roaming over her body as he entered her again.

His fingers tangled in her hair. His mouth
pressed hard against her neck. He moaned deep and low. His hold on
her tightened. His body shuddered again and again as he came inside
her.

Finally, his grip relaxed, but he kept his
arm slung across her waist, holding her close. Erin leaned back
into him, reveling in his heat. Minutes passed—Erin lost track of
how many—before John stirred long enough to pull the covers over
them.

Erin didn’t say a word as she tucked herself
underneath them. She didn’t care that it was just barely night. She
was exhausted. Her physical and emotional energy had been spent,
and all she wanted was to curl up against John’s body and
sleep.

It was starting to become a habit, she
thought before she drifted off. One that, if she wasn’t careful,
was going to be very hard to break.

Chapter 7

Erin woke up to the familiar feeling of
John's body nestled next to hers. Well, it wasn't entirely
familiar. The last time he'd been clothed. This time he most
definitely was not. Of course, neither was she.

And it was no longer night. Even with the
blinds shut tight, morning light still crept in through the slats.
Which meant that she needed to take care of the whole clothes
situation before he woke up.

She tried to roll out from under his arm, but
it tightened around her.

Crap. It looked like he was always that light
of a sleeper.

“Where are you going?” His voice was low and
sleepy in her ear.

“Nowhere. I was just going to try and grab my
shirt.”

“And why would you want to do that?” His
fingers played along the side of her breast. Erin tried to ignore
the tendrils of excitement that spread out from his touch.

“I’m cold.”

“Liar,” he whispered against her ear.

“Excuse me?” Erin rolled onto her back. She
clutched the sheet tight to her chest and turned her head toward
him. His eyes were closed, his arm still stretched out beneath her
pillow. He looked deliciously comfortable. Erin resisted the urge
to snuggle against him.

“You’re afraid that I’m going to find fault
with your body,” he said. “But it’s not going to happen, Erin.
You’re perfect the way that you are.”

Erin blushed. “Now who’s the liar?”

His right eye popped open. The corners of his
lips curled up ever so slightly. It was unfair how devastatingly
handsome he was, even first thing in the morning.

“I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you if
you won’t believe me.” He snaked a finger over the top of the sheet
and tugged.

Erin bit into her bottom lip and held on
tighter.

“No?” he said. “Too bad. I was hoping we
could pick up where we left off last night.” He rolled away and
jumped out of bed, totally naked and without an ounce of shame. Of
course, that was easy when you had nothing to be ashamed of. And
John most certainly did not.

Erin propped herself up on her elbows. The
warm morning light revealed every inch of skin that her fingers had
roamed the night before—his tight backside, his wide shoulders, his
toned legs. He swung open the closet door and pulled on a pair of
boxers. Then he grabbed two fresh shirts and tossed one her way. It
landed on the bed with a soft swoosh.

Erin didn’t reach for the shirt. Not yet. She
wasn’t about to waste prime gawking time on getting dressed.
Especially not when he turned around, putting the hard plane of his
belly—not to mention other assets—on full display. He even had that
v-shaped muscle that led to his groin. What was that one called?
Erin was sure she used to know, but it turned out thoughts were
hard to come by when she was looking at John's magnificent
body.

Hot damn.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you change your
mind.” He pulled the shirt over his head as he walked out of the
bedroom.

Erin let out a great puff of breath and fell
back onto the pillows. She pulled one over her face, using it to
smother the squeal that bubbled out of her. She drew in a deep
breath and the scent of him, woodsy and masculine, filled her
senses.

Double damn.

She couldn’t figure out which was more
unbelievable, that a crazed madman hell-bent on revenge had
destroyed her house, or that she was sleeping with a lawman. She
could imagine which one her mother would choose.

Her mom.

Erin released the pillow and stared up at the
ceiling. She’d barely spared a thought about her mother since the
bombing. What if Kallus succeeded before she had a chance to say
goodbye? A cold, sinking feeling invaded her chest at the thought.
She tried to focus on the pleasant soreness that still lingered
between her legs instead, but the anxiety refused to be pushed away
so easily. Why was it that every time something good happened to
her reality came around and smacked her in the face?

Erin found her clothes on the floor and
pulled them on. Sure, it was tempting to spend all day lounging
around in John’s shirt, but pretending that everything was perfect
would only be a waste of time. And time wasn’t a luxury she wasn’t
sure she had anymore.

The smell of bacon cooking pulled her down
the hall. She found John standing over the stove, pushing some eggs
around in a pan. Well, damn if the man wasn't good to his word. It
appeared he could make a decent breakfast. She was able to watch
him for a full minute before he glanced her way.

“Everything all right?” he asked. Erin
thought she spied a flicker of disappointment over her fully
dressed state, but it might have been her imagination.

“Yeah,” she said. “I was just thinking about
going out to see my mom.”

He turned back to the stove. Now she was
certain about the change in his demeanor. “I’m not sure that’s a
good idea.”

“Because of what happened yesterday?”

John shook his head. “I’m still confident
that between Ty and I, we can keep you safe.”

“Then why?” He didn’t answer her right away.
She stepped closer and prompted him again. “John?”

“I don’t think it would be the best for your
morale,” he finally said.

“My morale?” Erin laughed. John kept his head
down. “Wait. You’re serious.”

“It isn’t hard to see that you have
conflicted feelings when it comes to your family. I just don’t
think that it would do us any good to get you all riled up.”

Erin leaned her hip against the counter. Her
brows pulled together. “You’re right. It would be a crying shame if
I’m a little upset the day your gun traffickers get around to
putting a bullet in my head.”

He pushed the frying pan off the burner and
swiveled around to face her. “That’s not going to happen, Erin.”
His voice was firm but suddenly he didn’t seem as
certain
as
he had a moment ago.

“You are worried.” The realization slapped
her across the face.

“I’m concerned,” he said. “There’s a
difference.”

“All right, I’ll bite,” she said after he
didn’t offer up any further explanation. “What is it you’re
concerned
about?”

“I just want you to be happy.”

Erin rolled her eyes. Of all the bullshit
answers…

She pasted on the cheesiest smile she could
muster. “I’m as happy as can be. Can we go see my mom now? Or does
your plan for keeping morale up consist of keeping me in your
bedroom until this over?”

His glare sharpened. “Why is seeing your
mother so important?”

Erin clamped her mouth shut before another
snarky answer slipped out. She owed him the truth, especially if
she expected the same from him.

“Because I’m afraid that Kallus is going to
kill me before I get a chance to say goodbye.”

The hard lines around his eyes softened. “I
told you that’s—”

“Not going to happen.” Erin finished for him.
“But you can’t guarantee that, can you? Something tells me that
these Mustaar people aren’t the kind to be deterred by a couple of
FBI cars parked outside.”

“And that’s what I’m concerned about.”

“Yeah. Me too,” she said, throwing her hands
in the air in frustration.

“No. Kallus doesn’t concern me,” he said.
“You do.”

Erin blinked. “Me?”

“You’re doing a hell of a job keeping
yourself together through this whole shitty ordeal. Better than I
would expect from someone who hasn’t lived through half of what you
have.”

“Great. Then let me keep doing what’s
working.”

“But I’ve seen that look in your eye. I know
what it means.”

“And what’s that?” she asked despite her
doubts. Maybe the truth was overrated. Maybe it would be better if
she just slunk off back down the hall and hid under the covers all
day.

“You’re afraid we’re not going to win this
one. You think Kallus is too big. That you’re too small. That the
odds are too great.”

He wrapped his hand around the base of her
neck. His touch was gentle. Reassuring. His words? Not so much.

“But that’s not the truth.” His gaze held her
tight. “So I’ll make you a deal. If you prove to me that you’re
willing to fight just as hard for your life as I am then I promise
to drive you out to see your mom.”

Erin tried to wet her lips with her tongue,
but her mouth was suddenly so dry that it didn’t work. “You sound
like you have something in mind,” she said.

“Maybe I do.” John shrugged, a devilish gleam
sparkling in his eye. “But I think you better have some breakfast
first.”

***

“Do I really have to do this?” Erin asked.
She felt like an idiot for shouting, but there was no way around
it. If she couldn’t hear anything in these silly ear defenders,
then she figured John couldn’t either.

“You don’t
have
to do anything.” He
was close behind her, just over her left shoulder. “We can always
get in the car and go home.”

Like hell.

Erin drew in a deep breath and looked down at
the 9mm on the plywood ledge in front of her. John’s gun. Her gun
if she ever found the courage to pick it up.