Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) (8 page)

“Ever hear of personal space?” I say to Brooks, slipping out
from under his arm.

“Nah, what’s that?” he replies, eyes wide with mock
intrigue.

Goddammit. Of course he has to share my wry sense of humor,
too. Hot and funny with an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude? The repressed rebel in
me is yanking at her leash. I never end up with guys like Brooks. I settle for
the safe ones, the smart ones, the whiny ones with pasty faces and droopy
personalities. But some part of me wonders what it would be like, to be with a
guy like this.

Too bad I’ll never find out. I haven’t read the FBI
undercover handbook cover-to-cover, but I’m pretty sure that hooking up with
suspected criminals is a big no-no.

“Look,” Tiberi sighs, rubbing his strong jaw, “this suite is
plenty big enough to house your offices and my friend, too. Brooks is going to
be working at the auto shop most of the time anyway, until he saves up enough
to rent a place of his own. It’s not like he’s going to be hanging around here,
staring into space all day.”

“Though the view
is
pretty fucking amazing,” Brooks says. I expect to find his gaze aimed at the
enormous windows overlooking the strip, but instead he’s staring at me.

Pinpricks of heat light up along my body wherever his eyes
roam. I’m totally unused to this kind of attention. Since I started my FBI
training at Quantico, men have looked at me with envy, disdain, or
indifference. Before that, I was just a skinny little redhead with big glasses
and scraped-up knees. But the way Brooks looks at me you’d think I was the
sexiest woman to have ever walked the earth.

Surely, he has this effect on
all
the women he meets. All but Kassie and Kelly, that is. They’re less than
thrilled about this turn of events, and making no effort to hide it. Good for
them.

“Is this going to be a short term thing, Brooks?” Kassie
sighs.

“Sure,” he shrugs, “I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“Keira,” Kelly says, “will you be comfortable working here
if Brooks is also staying?”

I give the staggering man a good, long once-over. Let him
see how it feels to be scrutinized. Of course, he doesn’t really seem to mind.
In fact, I think he loves the attention. He shoots me a devilish wink that
sends a trill of sensation down my spine. Damn him to hell.

“It’s fine,” I finally say, “if he tries to burn the place
down, I’ll just start working from home, I guess.”

“That’s the spirit!” Brooks grins, plucking the cigarette
from behind his ear. In a heartbeat, he’s whipped out a zippo lighter. Before
anyone can protest, he’s lit up the cigarette, looking perfectly at home.

“Jesus,” Kelly grumbles, “I thought Leo was incorrigible.” 

“I guess I’d better be going,” I chime in. “Let everybody
get settled around here...”

“You’re leaving already, Red?” Brooks exclaims, leveling that
green gaze at me once more. “But I only just got here!”

“My name is not Red,” I say coolly. “It’s Keira.”

“Pretty, but I like Red better,” Brooks grins. “Stay for a
while. Call it a house warming.”

“This house is plenty warm,” Kassie says curtly. “Go ahead,
Keira. We’ll see you tomorrow, OK?”

“OK. See you guys tomorrow,” I reply, making a beeline for
the front door at last.

“Looking forward to it, Red,” Brooks smiles knowingly, a
thin tendril of smoke rising from his Marlboro.

I rip my eyes from his sculpted face, hurrying away before
he can bewitch me any further. My blush is red hot as I skirt through the door.
I’m flustered and speechless in the wake of meeting this man. I need to take my
mind off of him, right away. But as I step back into the elevator and close my
eyes, it’s his face I see, lighting up the darkness. What in the hell is going
on with me?

“This is some rookie shit, Collins,” I mutter, as the
elevator brings me back down to earth. Guess there’s always tomorrow to start
acting like a professional.

His strong fingers tangle in my hair as he draws me hard
against him. I gasp as he tugs my head back, exposing the sensitive skin of my
neck. With one hand firmly on the small of my back, holding me tight against
his pulsating desire, he brings his full lips to my throat. I let a low, raspy
moan escape my throat as he kisses me deeply. Each brush of his perfect mouth
against my skin sends a shockwave of pleasure through my eager body. Urgent,
throbbing need radiates from the very core of me as I run my hands over the
hard rise in his jeans. I have to know what it feels like, taking so powerful a
man all the way inside...

“You’ve never really been fucked, have you?” he growls in my
ear, snapping open the clasp of my bra with a flick of his wrist.

“I-I don’t know. I guess?” I stammer, unable to concentrate
on anything but his hands, sliding up my lean torso. His cock, hard and
throbbing beneath my trembling fingers.

“That’s a no, then,” he laughs roughly, cupping my breasts
in his rugged hands. I suck in a breath as he takes my nipples between his
fingers, pinching just hard enough, mixing pleasure with pain as only he can
do.

“Are you going to change that?” I ask, tracing the outline
of his staggering member.

“You want me to,” he says. It’s more of a statement than a
question.

“Yes,” I breathe, as he pushes me back against the soft
leather couch, “I
need
you to.”

“You have no idea what you need,” he rasps, ripping my shirt
over my head, “but I do.”

I bury my fingers in his dark curls as he kisses along my
naked chest, taking my hard nipple in his mouth before moving down, down,
down
. His broad, cut body
encompasses my slight form, pinning me there beneath him. I reach and pull the
black tee shirt off his brawny torso, entranced by the snaking lines of ink
covering each and every defined muscle.

“You’re incredible,” I breathe, as he trails his lips along
the valley of my stomach.

His vibrant green eyes flick up to mine, his crooked grin
wide and devilish.

“Red, you have no idea,” he growls, pushing up my black
pencil skirt. My head falls back against the couch as he tugs down my lacy
thong. “Did you put this on for me?” he asks.

“You know I did,” I admit, biting my lip.

“I love that,” he moans. “I love knowing how much you want
me to fuck you.” I close my eyes in bliss as he trails two fingers along the
length of my slick sex. “I love
feeling
how much you want me to fuck you. You’re so goddamn wet...”

“That feels so good,” I whisper, as he slides two strong
fingers inside of me, flexing against that delicious spot. Words fail me as he
strokes my most intimate flesh, sending waves of pleasure to the very edges of
me.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, slipping a third
finger into my wet, wanting slit, “There’s no way you’ve ever been with a real
man. Before now.”

“Show me what it’s like, then,” I gasp desperately.

“Don’t worry,” he grins, resting his thumb against my
throbbing clit. Sensation sears through me as he rubs that aching nub, hard and
tight with need. “I will.”

Just as my lips fall open to beg for his perfect cock, sharp
pinpricks shoot out from my chest. This isn’t the wonderful, borderline pain of
bites and tugs. What the hell...?

My conscious mind snaps to attention, dragging me out of the
depths of fantasy. I blink my groggy eyes, looking wildly around the room for
my dangerous lover. But instead of finding him looming over me in the low light
of morning, I find someone much smaller. And fuzzier. And that someone happens
to have his claws lodged in my chest.

“Dammit, Mayor,” I grumble, shooing my new pet away and
rolling over in my empty twin bed, “way to be a buzzkill.”

I can’t believe that Brooks made his way into my dreams. Or
rather, I can
absolutely
believe it, but I’m still totally freaked out. There’s no way around it—I’ve
spent the night fantasizing about fucking a man I just met. On the couch in my
new office. Where I’m posing undercover as someone else entirely. I know that
dreams are supposed to be random firings of brain activity or whatever, but
come on. There’s not much ambiguity to what that little sexy nighttime romp
could mean.

It’s already nine in the morning. I’m supposed to report to
the CrowdedNest offices at ten for my first day of work. Well, Keira’s first
day. I’ve already logged a couple days of labor on this case. But now is when
the real work begins. Forcing the lingering thoughts of Brooks from my mind, I
grab my cell and give Mitchell a ring. He picks up and barks into the phone,
clearly wide awake.

“Get a move on, Sleeping Beauty,” he orders me. “You just
got this job with the old ladies. Don’t want to lose it on your first day.”

“Gee. Thanks, Mitchell. Your vote of confidence is
overwhelming,” I grumble.

“When you deliver some information we can actually use
against these maniacs, I’ll
shower
you in confidence,” he replies, taking a minute to calm himself before going
on. “In all seriousness, Collins, I’m sure you’ll do a great job with this.
You’re really going to be a huge help to this operation.”

This little injection of encouragement surprises me.
“Thanks, Mitchell,” I reply, “I’ll check in with you at the end of the day.”

We’re just about to hang up when my call waiting starts
beeping. I glance down at my phone and see Milo’s name and number. What’s with
all this outreach suddenly? I couldn’t pay him to drop me a line unprompted
while we were dating. With a sigh, I answer my sorta-ex’s call.

“What’s going on, Milo?” I ask.

“Quinn,” he croaks, “it’s you.”

“Jesus, Milo,” I mutter, “you sound like hell.”

“I’ve been in hell since you broke up with me,” he whines
accusatorially.

“Milo, my friend, I feel for you, but I don’t have time for
this,” I tell him. “I’m working on a case, you know this.”

“Do you even care that I’m hurting?” he snaps. “This is your
fault, Quinn. We had a great thing going.”

“We had a terrible thing going, Milo!” I exclaim. “You were
the lousiest boyfriend in the history of, well, everything.”

“Now you’re just being cruel,” he moans.

“Listen,” I say, “use this as a learning experience. Don’t
treat your next girlfriend like a speck of dirt on your carpet, and this won’t
keep happening to you. But I’m an FBI agent, not a teacher. It’s not my job to
keep educating you.”

“But—”

“I have to go now,” I cut him off, “I have a criminal
organization to help dismantle.”

I hang up the phone before he can protest and drag myself
into the shower. As the hot water washes over my skin, I can’t help but
remember the words Brooks kept uttering in my dream.
There’s no way you’ve ever been with a real man
.
Apparently even my subconscious is keenly aware of how lacking my sexual
history has been. No wonder I keep fantasizing about Brooks. It’s not that I’m
actually interested in him as a person, I’m just fascinated by the idea of
fucking a real, manly man. But I’m sure I can manage to find one who isn’t also
an obstinate, headstrong, loose cannon.

Hopefully, those aren’t the parts I’m actually attracted to.

“Good morning, Ms. Campbell!” says the friendly doorman I
met yesterday at Kassie’s building. “So nice to see you again.”

“Morning...Franklin,” I say, fetching the man’s name from
the tag on his uniform, “I’m glad to be here!”

That’s not a lie, either. This is the most excitement I’ve
had in years. Even if I’ll still be sitting behind a computer all day. Getting
to spend time with women my own age will be a nice change of pace from the
sausage fest of my San Bernardino office.

“You can go right up,” Franklin tells me, “the ladies are
expecting you. You look lovely this morning, by the way.”