Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
I tore my eyes away from Jordan’s hands on Kev’s skin and forced myself to concentrate. I leaned over slightly, pretending to dance up on Kev’s hip, letting my leather jacket fall open to further obscure my movements. I connected the Horn to a high-speed transfer cable and offloaded a backup of the entire system within a minute. My watch buzzed to let me know the transfer was complete, and I disconnected the Horn.
“Done. Ready for handoff,” I murmured, tapping the mic button.
However, just as I handed the Horn off to Elvo, Yolanda’s tense voice sounded in my ear.
“Losing him, boss. Target is heading off the dance floor.”
Champ’s voice, calm as ever, replied. “I see him. He’s heading to the back corridor by the bathrooms. Elvo, take the Horn and head for the bathroom. Jordan, cover the front entrance to the club. Yolanda, follow Elvo and distract Freddy in the corridor—I don’t know how. Ask for his number, maybe?—to give Elvo a chance to slide the Horn into his pocket. Hux and Kev, wait for my signal, then proceed to the corridor also, to provide backup for Yolanda and/or provide a distraction so everyone can get away clean. Maybe another rousing shouting match about the time Hux grabbed Kev’s, uh… berry.” He made a strangled noise. “Christ, I hate that game.”
As Jordan moved out of the way, Kev’s eyes met mine, and like magnets, the two of us moved toward each other, swaying in time to the pounding beat.
“Should I remind them that I was the one who stole your greenberry?” Kev asked, his voice a soft whisper in my ear.
“So you admit it was mine, then?” I ground out, not thinking about greenberries or HOG or any other damn thing but the man in front of me, the man swaying in my arms. “You prevented me from ascending to mage status for the whole summer on purpose?”
“You… you deserved it for killing my bronze goose,” Kev countered. He swallowed hard. His eyes were dilated, and he sounded almost drunk as he continued. “Poor Jaunty. Besides, I couldn’t let you ascend before me. It’s no fun playing without you.”
“Now, Huxley,” Champ commanded.
I closed my eyes for half a second, muttered a curse under my breath, then grabbed Kev’s hand and moved quickly toward the corridor, pulling him behind me. Further down the hall, Yolanda reclined against the wall in a studiously sexy pose. Elvo and our target were nowhere to be seen—probably in the men’s room. I pressed Kev against the wall and moved in close to him.
“We’re providing distraction,” I reminded him before brushing my lips against his cheek.
“R-right.” His hands rose and fell in a nervous flutter. “And this is distracting?”
“Oh yeah.” The attraction that had grown between us once I stopped choking it off was by far the most distracting thing I’d ever encountered in my entire life. “Way better than fighting about your duck.”
“G-goose. Jaunty was a… a…” Kev broke off with a hard swallow, his breaths coming fast and shallow against the sweat at my temple.
I slid my lips down from his cheek toward his mouth, taking my time in case he wasn’t up for it, in case he wanted to pull away and try something else. But he didn’t.
Instead, he leaned against the wall, spreading his legs slightly so I could insinuate one thigh between his. His hands fisted the edges of my leather jacket to pull me closer, and they fell like a cocoon around us both, hiding the bare skin of his sides and hips from anyone else walking by.
The club reeked of sweat and manufactured fog, of a hundred spilled drinks and twice as many clashing colognes, but when he got close, all I could smell was coffee and vanilla and…
“Are you wearing cherry ChapStick?” I demanded.
“Uh…” Kev blinked and licked his lips like he needed to check. “Yes?”
A rogue wave of lust swamped me. Nothing that innocent and endearing should be so damn sexy, but then, this was Kev Rogers. A study in contradictions. The exception to every rule. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Stop laughing,” he breathed against my chin. “It isn’t funny.”
“No,” I said, brushing his lips with mine. “Definitely not funny.” And then I took his mouth with a hard, hungry kiss, the kind of kiss that had been hovering in the air between us while the music thumped and the dance floor writhed. The kind of kiss that tasted like the promise of hours-long sex—the sweaty, sticky kind full of tongues and mouths, sucking and nipping, exploring and touching abso-fucking-lutely everything on this man’s body.
I felt his groan shudder through him. My hands moved down to his hips and clutched him tightly. I pressed my hard dick against his and ground into it, moving my hands around to grab his ass and pull him even tighter against me.