Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7), Jacki Delecki [polar express read aloud .TXT] 📗

body pressed against his. She might never let him go. “I should have never involved you once I knew you were innocent.”

He rubbed her back in soothing circles, allowing her to vent her guilt.

“If you hadn’t come with me to California, you’d still be safe in Seattle, working on the ransomware.”

He scattered kisses along her hairline, across her forehead. She was losing steam from his gentleness.

He lifted her chin and looked directly into her eyes. His tone was serious, his eyes without any amusement. “You couldn’t have stopped me from coming. I would have followed you. And imagine what trouble I would have gotten into without my CIA watchdog.”

She laughed and cried at the same time, a jumble of emotions. “I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Leave you breathless with my charm and wit?”

“Make me laugh. Make me realize that there is more to living than catching bad guys.”

“Is this what I think it means?” He pressed kisses to her palm, making her skin hot and her stomach twirl. “You care about me, Darcy Wilson. It only took me being kidnapped for you to realize it.”

“I do care about you, you insufferable jerk. Do you have to gloat?”

“I’m not gloating. I’m ecstatic. I’ve fled torture to be in the arms of the bravest and most beautiful woman with the finest ass on the planet.” He squeezed her ass in his big hands. “These babies made escaping so sweet.”

His pleasure in touching her gutted her. No one ever made her feel needed; no one made her feel wanted for herself—a curvy, bad-ass CIA officer.

“When did the CIA mandate skin-tight pants as part of the uniform? Lucky I was rescued. With all the men watching this delicious behind instead of kicking down the door, I’m amazed they made it into the warehouse.”

“Except the door was wide open.” Darcy pushed against his hardness, pleasure blossoming under her skin. A weak but virile Reeves still got her going.

“Smart-ass. You’ve interrupted my ode to your body. I can’t decide what I like most, your freckles scattered across your nose”—he kissed her bruised and swollen nose—“or the mole next to your lip, right here.” He gently touched the spot before he kissed it. “Or this.” He squeezed her butt. “Being held captive helps put your life into perspective. My life goal is to worship you, so you never doubt what a magnificent woman you are in this incredible little package.”

Her stomach fluttered and flitted like birds in a summer breeze. Was Reeves serious, or was this the adrenaline and the desperation to grab onto life after being at death’s door? She didn’t care what the reasons were. She was trained to trust her gut. And this was genuine.

“I feel like a new man. Who needs water and rest when you have tough and gorgeous Darcy Wilson caring for you?”

“Let’s go, Reeves,” Finn shouted. “Have you molested that woman enough yet?”

“I haven’t even started,” Reeves yelled back, which was followed by loud laughs.

 Taking her hand into his, he whispered near her ear, “I plan to never stop.”

And Darcy swayed into his side, dizzy with need. His deep voice and the promise in his eyes heated her blood.

Chapter Seventeen

Reeves half-listened to the Jenkins boys trash talk in the safe house’s living room after their debrief. His focus was on Darcy, who was across the room with the women—too far from him, too far to touch. She tried to smile when Danni clinked their champagne glasses together. With her face swollen, and her arm back in the splint, she had to be hurting and irritated by the limitations of having her arm pinned to her side. He had plans to help with her frustration once they ditched the friends.

Sophie and Danni were on either side of Darcy, chatting away as if they were longtime friends. At one point, Sophie adjusted the sling on Darcy’s shoulder. Interesting that his fiercely independent CIA agent smiled at Sophie’s ministrations. He still was a bit in shock that Darcy had succumbed to the women who were like a tsunami, swallowing you up in their care and concern. He would have thought that uptight Darcy would avoid being swept into his friend group. She wasn’t buttoned-up now in a black, clingy dress that hugged every one of her luscious curves—curves that he was dying to explore. This looked like the work of Danni and Sophie for the sole reason of watching him lose his sanity.

He swallowed hard, fighting his emotional response to how his close friends had welcomed Darcy. He hadn’t realized until now the women had never made any effort to include Lily. Why hadn’t he noticed? Because he had been working nonstop. He had been essential to the rescue of the Dean sisters, Danni, and his sister. Lily played no role in that all-consuming part of his life. And it was telling that he never considered including her.

He always thought that Lily wasn’t accepted because she was a tech geek and didn’t have anything in common with the women. But CIA Darcy was the polar opposite of Sophie and Danni, and they were laughing together like best buds. And Izzy slipped into their group whenever she made it back to town.

His fierce hunger for Darcy must have telegraphed across the living room since she glanced up. Their eyes locked. He couldn’t control the raging need for this one woman who knocked his life off its axis. The connection arcing between them was kinetic, rearranging the molecules in the air around them, forming their own force field. He needed her now. Darcy’s face and chest reddened before she looked down, nodding to something an animated Sophie was saying.

There was no logic to his need for this woman. There were no algorithms or formulas for blind attraction. And seeing his friend’s acceptance of Darcy made it feel right.

But what would Darcy think? She was committed to her work with the CIA, which meant foreign assignments far away from