Those words hit a sore spot inside Dylan, making his body tense, the memory of betrayal hardwired into him. But to his surprise, the twinge of emotion passed, leaving a strange sense of clarity.
“No matter what happens between Gabi and me, she will always be the woman who picked up a rifle and fought her way through a dozensicariosto stop me from being tortured and save my life. I won’t forget that. I want her to be happy.”
It was the truth.
He loved her.
You should tell her that, cabrón.
Tower nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. “I’ll take you both at your word. Ms. Marquez, I’ll talk to my partner, Javier Corbray, and get back to you with an offer.”
Gabi stared at Tower, clearly surprised. “That’s it? No more questions? No resumé? No psych eval?”
Tower chuckled. “We’ve had our eye on you since we found out you weren’t a nun. Your skillset is…unique. Compared to you, former elite operators like Cruz are a dime a dozen.”
“Hey, I’m right here.” Still, Dylan knew it was true.
Tower ignored him. “I’ve already read through your Agency file, and I am, of course, familiar with your actions in Venezuela. I know you received a reprimand for trying to protect the journalists. I’m not concerned. You’re young, and it was your first solo, undercover mission. You ran headlong into danger, not once, but twice—first in an attempt to protect the reporters and then when you saved Cruz. That’s who you are.”
Dylan could see those words touched Gabi.
“Thank you for understanding, sir.”
Tower thanked them for coming in on the weekend, told them he hoped they enjoyed their hard-earned vacation time, and the interview was over.
Gabi was alight with excitement. “Does this mean I’ll meet Holly Bradshaw?”
“You’ll be her co-worker.” But Dylan had more important things on his mind. He nuzzled her cheek, lowered his voice to a whisper. “I need to get the hell out of here—and deep inside you.”
“God, yes.”
It took all of his willpower to keep his hands off her as they made their way back to his vehicle and drove to his condo. He parked, carried her bag inside, and locked the door behind them, one thing on his mind.
She leaped into his arms, kissed him.
He backed her up against the door, took control of the kiss, hunger pounding through his veins, his cock already hard.
“Now!” She yanked down his zipper, stroked his erect cock.
He rucked her skirt up to her hips and lifted her off the floor, pinning her against the door with his weight, and moving the crotch of her panties aside.
“Yes.” She wrapped her legs around his waist.
He buried himself inside her with a single, slow thrust, the two of them moaning in unison as she took all of him.
No condom this time.
He tried to settle into a smooth rhythm, but she felt too damned good—wet and hot and tight. “Jesus.”
His control shredded, he pounded himself into her, hard and fast… needing her… losing himself in the feel of her. He babbled nonsense in two languages. “Gabi, you’re so …Mi amor. I need… Fuck!Eres perfecto.”
Faster. Harder.
Every thrust made her moan now, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted.
He knew she was close, her body going stiff. He fought to relax, to last just that little bit longer, just a little longer for her sake.
“Dylan!” She cried out his name as climax took her, bliss shining on her face.