Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)

He touched his hand to her arm and felt a familiar jolt of electric energy pulse through him the same way it did every time they came into physical contact.

“Sorry, Ava, I don’t want to think about that tonight. I want to concentrate on this situation until it’s over.” And hopefully at the end everyone would still be alive.

He’d taken over negotiations that afternoon. He hadn’t apologized or explained. He’d just calmly introduced himself. “My name’s Dominic. You’re dealing with me now.”

No drama, no theatrics. Just a done deal.

Joe had been amazing over the last few days, but he was clearly exhausted and Dominic was worried he’d inadvertently let something slip about the takedown operation. He still didn’t think he’d uncovered the unknown unknowns in this situation—the Black Swans—but FBI analysts were still digging.

Gino didn’t warm to him much but Frank did. They’d begun talking about everything from favorite ski hills in Vermont to scuba diving in the Bahamas. Gino sat with a sneer twisting his puffy features. Milo remained silent sitting calmly beside the warden like he was guarding her, but that might be a crazily off-center assumption.

“Dominic, I—”

He squeezed Ava’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll be back on the case as soon as this is over, but right now I need a shower, a cold beer and a few hours’ sleep.” Must be the car accident and the pressure of this incident but he was whacked.

She searched his eyes and must have seen the imminent exhaustion threatening to suck him under. She nodded uncertainly. “Okay. Let me go pick up some food. Anything in particular you like?”

“Not pizza.” Pizza was the staple of most late-night, armed standoffs and crisis negotiations.

“I’ll see what else is available around here.” She dropped her laptop inside the trailer and headed straight out the door. He stumbled inside and had the world’s fastest shower and collapsed unconscious onto the mattress he was using on the floor. Ava wasn’t back and the image of her talking to the HRT guy the other morning punched through his consciousness. No doubt about it, any number of those guys would love to get into her pants.

Her choice.

He clenched his teeth at the thought.

Five hours later he surfaced to the soft sound of Ava’s breathing. The moon was full and everything was lit up inside the trailer with a bright silver glow. He carefully lifted the flimsy sheet that separated them to look at her. She lay on her back on top of the thin coverlet, wearing another one of her camisole tops and a pair of boxer shorts.

God she was pretty, those elegant, winged brows and that lush, wide mouth that gave as good as it got. He shouldn’t be looking at her like this, staring like a lover when the sheet was there to give them both privacy in cramped quarters. He was about to drop the sheet back into place when she rolled over and her hand flopped toward him, her palm connecting with his bare chest. He jolted. Her fingers spread wide, and the sear of her touch branded him. Then her eyes slowly opened.

Instead of withdrawing her hand she blinked a few times and then rubbed her palm over his pecs and down his rib cage.

“I imagined you’d look like this…” Her voice was low and soft as velvet. Her hand stroked up and brushed his nipple.

He gritted his teeth against the pleasure her touch wrought. “You’ve been imagining what I looked like without my shirt on?”

Did that mean she’d been thinking about sex the way he had whenever he lost control of his thought processes?

Her eyes rose up to meet his, voice husky with sleep. “I wondered what you’d look like naked.”

“I’m not naked.” His voice dropped two octaves and then he watched as her hand drifted lower and curled around his cock which was standing to attention in an impossible to miss salute.

“Is this where I apologize for touching you?” she asked, eyes dark as they fastened on his.

God, this woman.

He swallowed as lust infused every cell of his body. She was so erotically over the line and yet he didn’t give a damn. Between her sultry voice and deft touch, he could barely speak.

“I’m good,” he said.

“Are you?” she murmured, discovering the changing shape of him with appreciation that threatened his control to a breaking point.

He closed his eyes briefly, her touch stoking his desire until his blood caught fire. They shouldn’t be doing this, but if he didn’t have her soon his head was going to explode. He opened his eyes again.

“Do you really want to find out, Ava? You want to have sex with a guy a lot older than you are? One who’s theoretically in a position of superiority?” He held her gaze in the darkness.

She ignored the age difference like it was non-existent. Maybe at this stage it was, they were both consenting adults. But it didn’t change their respective positions within the FBI.

“Theoretically?”

“You have my cock in your hand. Trust me, that changes the power dynamic.”

“Yes,” she bit her bottom lip. “I want to have sex with you, but I don’t want it to complicate anything.”

Sex always complicated things but right now he didn’t care. Let them get as complicated as all fuck, as long as he could get inside her right now.

He hooked his arm around her waist and dragged her onto his mattress, dropping the sheet behind her and rolling her beneath him.

Her hands came up to grip his upper arms and she held on tight.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

She nodded, eyes on his lips.

He lowered his mouth to taste her and felt her body melt against him as her arms came around him.

He kissed her slowly, nibbling the edges of her mouth, hands cradling her head, holding her exactly where he wanted her. She tasted like the mint of toothpaste and something sweet and sexy and sinful.

Toni Anderson's books