His words sent a shiver of arousal through her.
She stepped away and picked up her clutch and heels, looking back at him over her shoulder as she walked out of the room. “Hurry, or we’ll be late.”
He bit his lower lip, his brow furrowed, his gaze on her ass now. “Damn.”
She slipped into her heels—she hadn’t worn heels since before she’d left for Afghanistan—and waited at the front door. He appeared, two black woolen dress coats draped over his arm, hers and his.
He helped her into hers. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“You think that just because I have testicles, you can put on a sexy dress that shows off your breasts and sweet ass and turn me into a raging mess of pheromones.” Then he whispered into her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “You’re right.”
Another shiver.
Oh, she was right there with him.
But first, there was a party.
They rode the elevator down to the garage and walked hand in hand through the cold night air to Derek’s vehicle. But if Jenna thought Derek was going to let her off the hook, she was mistaken. All the way to Cobra’s offices, he kept at it.
“I’m going to go down on you until you scream. I’ll rip those panties off and suck your clit. Then I’ll get you on your hands and knees and fuck you hard from behind.”
Warmth rushed into her cheeks. “Promises, promises.”
“Or maybe I’ll bang you up against the wall and mess up your dress.”
Her inner muscles clenched.
“Maybe I’ll tie you to my bed and fuck you so slowly that you lose your mind.”
By the time they reached the office, she was horny as hell, aching and wet. They parked and walked to the elevator. As soon as the door closed, she was on him.
He caught her wrists, stopped her. “Surveillance.”
“Oh, right.”
“Can we have sex in a conference room?”
He laughed, seeming to find the idea hilarious. “God, no. Surveillance.”
“Where then?”
He leaned down, a sexy grin on his face. “You have to wait—just like I do.”
She gave a frustrated moan, took the hand he offered, and walked with him out of the elevator and into a long room or hallway crowded with people. The walls were made of burnished steel, the floors white marble, several tables of catered food set up on one side, a bar in the corner.
“Hey, Ms. Hamilton!” Dylan waved to her, looking nothing like the dusty operative in camo, his dark good looks set off by a white tux.
She hugged him. “I’m so happy to see you doing so well.”
“Thanks.” His gaze raked over her. “You look…”
Derek coughed.
“Lovely,” Dylan said. “Hey, boss.”
“Glad to have you stateside, Cruz.”