She twisted to face him and tried for his instep. When he blocked the move, she kicked out at his groin. He deflected with his thigh and pinned her to the wall again with his body.
“Always the balls,” he murmured next to her ear and tried to ignore how soft she felt against him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were fascinated by them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, men. Go for a groin shot, and they think it’s because you want to fuck them rather than cripple them.”
“Ah, but you do want me, vixen.” He wrapped his hand around her neck and applied just enough pressure to dissuade her from trying to head-butt him—because if he were in her shoes, that would be his next move. Her heart was thundering, and he stroked his thumb lightly back and forth over her pulse point. “I can tell. You want to fuck me, and you hate it.”
“I think you’re projecting.”
Her breasts rubbed against his chest with her every inhale, and the sensation was short-circuiting his brain. Maybe he was projecting, but he didn’t think so. Not when her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and anticipation filled her eyes. He moved his hand up to cup her jaw, and his thumb strayed over her lips. She opened her mouth, sucked it inside, and a shudder shook through him.
A more righteous man would ignore such a blatant invitation from a known criminal. Cam would have, but he wasn’t his twin. He’d spent his entire life balancing on the thin blade between good and bad, and right now, he was leaning heavily into bad.
He didn’t care.
He covered her mouth with his, and the taste of her flooded his senses with memory. He remembered kissing her like this as vividly as if he’d just done it yesterday. It was the same and yet different. Darker, edgier, and with the bite of desperation.
She curled her fingers into the front of his coat, but instead of shoving him away, she dragged him in closer. Her kiss became like an attack, and he had no choice but to go on the defensive, parrying the thrusts of her tongue with his, biting her lip in return when she bit his.
This was a dangerous game. And he was losing.
He broke the kiss and, breathing hard, stared down into her eyes. “Who are you?”
She gave a feline smile, and even though he held her caged against the side of the building, he suddenly felt more like the hunted than the hunter.
She leaned in until her lips nearly touched his again. “I’m whoever you want. The tough chick. The dumb blonde. The helpless damsel in distress.”
“The con artist.”
“That, too.” She batted her lashes. “So, Vaughn, do you want the little lost girl, dreaming of her white knight? Or, no, your armor isn’t all that white, is it?” She dragged a finger down his chest, his stomach, and found him hard. She cupped him and squeezed, taking him just to the edge where pleasure and pain blurred. “What you want is the temptress. You want me to be the bad girl.”
“What I want—” His voice came out coated in rust, and he stopped short, cleared his throat, “—is to take you back to DC and turn you over to the authorities.”
“Why?” she all but purred and traced the ridge still growing behind his fly. “We could have so much fun together, Vaughn. Think about it. You and me…we could make our way to Cabo.”
For a second, he actually considered it. Sun, sand, and this woman willingly, happily in his bed again…
Somewhere close, a horn let out a bleating wail and reality shattered the fantasy like a baseball thrown through glass.
Cabo.
As in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.
He captured her wrist and yanked her hand away from his erection so he could think rationally again. “Mexico, where they have so many problems, they aren’t going to bother to look for a little American identity thief. That’s your plan?”
“It could be our plan.”
“No. My plan is to take you back to DC.”
“Oh, c’mon!” She finally gave up on the seduction and pounded her fists against his chest. “Why can’t you just let me go?”
“Maybe I will.” It was an impulsive response, one he hadn’t meant to say aloud. He cursed at himself and added, “If you tell me who you are.”
She opened her mouth but snapped it closed again without uttering a sound. “I’m nobody,” she finally said and jerked free of his grasp. She crossed her arms in front of her, hunched in on herself, and in that moment, she looked almost… fragile. It tore at something inside him, and he locked his muscles to keep from pulling her into him, soothing her.
She sniffled and swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. “If you’re bound and determined to take me back to DC, fine. I won’t fight anymore, but just know you’re signing my death certificate.”
He shouldn’t let it affect him—it was probably just another act on her part—but damn, it did. Watching her deflate in front of his eyes, all of the fight leaving her…it was so wrong.
His chest tightened. “Sage—”
“Let’s get it over with.” She turned away. “I’m tired of all this.”
Chapter Seven