Her Covert Protector (Rogue Protectors Book 4)

“There’s only one way you could have found out about the Fesenjan,” Nadia told him.

After dessert, they lingered over a digestif. Nadia favored the decaffeinated ginger tea, while John went for Armagnac. By the time they finished their three-hour dining experience, it was past ten.

Instead of answering her, he secured the wrap around her shoulders before taking her hand to walk the short trek across the street to their hotel.

“My dad,” she continued. “I had all these theories about how you and Bristow combed through my credit history to find out which ones were my favorite restaurants, but it was my dad, wasn’t it?’

“Intel from trusted human assets are the most valuable,” he deadpanned. They entered the hotel lobby where John gave a muted nod to the concierge. He was certain they’d been spotted from across the street. All subtle interactions inherent to embedded agency operatives were in play. This hotel was one of the few hotels in the city the agency used for clandestine work, and the top two floors were reserved specifically for men like John and were routinely swept for bugs and surveillance.

“Hmm,” Nadia said. Her heels made clacking noises on the Italian marble flooring, underscoring the ensuing silence that made him glance over. Her head was angled away from him. She was studying her surroundings.

Lowering his head, he said, “You should watch where you’re going.”

She shot him a look. “I trust you not to let me run into a post or stumble on steps.”

“You’re scoping around this place like it’s a museum.”

She bit her lower lip, the edges of her mouth tipping up as though she was controlling a big smile. Mirth filled her eyes. “Is this place like …” she lowered her voice. “Assassin’s Hill?”

John sighed in resignation. “You make it very hard to date you.”

“That’s what you get for setting your cap on a crime analyst.”

Arriving at the bank of elevators, he stabbed the call button, impatient to get her to their suite so he could show her the consequences of her flirtatious taunts.

“You’re such a challenge,” he muttered. He’d been living a jaded existence for long, he finally understood why Nadia just did it for him. There was no question they burned the sheets in the bedroom, and there was no question her beautiful face took his breath away with those expressive hazel eyes and a smile that dazzled him. But a man like him needed more than beauty and lust to twist him up in knots. He needed a woman who kept him on his toes in a way that cracked the walls of his hardened heart, letting dormant feelings soar. Feelings he didn’t know existed.

Nadia Powell did that to him. He would never, ever let her go.

“What?” she asked innocently. “You don’t like challenges?” She looked very pleased with herself. The minx. The wrap had come loose and exposed the soft swell of her breasts. He couldn’t wait to peel the rest of her clothes off.

The elevator was taking too long. He stabbed the button again.

Nadia edged closer, molding her softness to his side. She nipped his ear. “Someone is impatient.”

A groan vibrated in his throat, and he gritted his teeth. She definitely had his number, but goddammit, it was messing with his plan to fuck her slow and gentle.

The elevator doors finally slid open, and he resisted the urge to drag her in.

He flashed a keycard against the panel that would turn off the carriage cameras and take them to their floor. It also increased the temptation to push her against its mirrored walls, sink to his knees, toss up her skirt, and lick her between her thighs.

Instead, they stood side by side, still holding hands. But both of them were so still, as though frozen. No words passed between them. They stared at each other in the reflective steel of the elevator doors.

When they reached the twelfth floor, they both released a deep breath. Nadia burst out in nervous laughter, letting go of his hand, and skipped ahead of him. John followed more leisurely, shoving his hands in his pockets, chuckling in self-deprecation at how his woman so easily put him on edge.

“Which one is our room?” she asked, her breathless voice raised goosebumps of need from the top of his shoulders to the base of his spine.

“End of the hall,” he clipped. He flexed his fingers to let out the tension.

Alone with Nadia.

There was no one else on this floor, and the walls were soundproof. No one to hear her scream as he brought her to orgasm over and over.

When she got to the door of their room, she spun around and shot him a seductive smile.

He narrowed his gaze. “You keep doing that and we’ll never make it to the bed.”

“I love wall sex.”

Jesus, that mouth. Just slay him now.

But he was supposed to be this cool-as-shit CIA officer. He had a rep to protect, and he had a feeling Nadia liked him to boss her around, daring him to do filthy things to her. With their gazes unwavering from each other, he tapped his wallet to the electronic reader and opened the door.

Nadia tugged him in by his tie, leading him into the room.

“Hold on,” he said, engaging the safety.

Her mouth curled in a smile, “You’re so hot when you’re protective.”

“Are you making fun of me, Miss Powell?”

“Of course not, Agent Garrison.”

John winced. CIA operatives weren’t called agents no matter what the public thought. He spun her around and pinned her against the wall, making her feel his erection at the base of her spine.

“We’re not called agents,” he whispered in her ear, lowering his hand around her and under her skirt, slowly sliding it up her thigh. “Every time you call me that, it makes me want to torture you right here.” His finger touched the core of her, touching wetness through the scrap of fabric hiding her pussy. She was wearing a thong again. Her arousal immediately coated his fingers. Her breathing fractured. His grew ragged as he pressed two fingers inside her, feeling the tight fit of her inner muscles clenching around him.

Fuck.

He rocked his body against her as he continued pumping with his fingers.

“Agent Garrison, please fuck me,” she breathed out.

“You’re so wet and ready for me,” he snarled softly. He withdrew his fingers and scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. “But you’re going to know slow and torturous from me.”

She might have whimpered at this statement. Good.

Because this evening was about showing her there was more than lust between them, and he intended to show her just how much he cared by worshipping her body in the way she deserved.

He lowered her gently to the bed. “Don’t move. I’m undressing you.”

He doffed his jacket and undid his tie. When he started unbuttoning his dress shirt, Nadia propped on her elbows and watched him remove his clothes with hooded eyes. He was in no way doing a strip tease, but these slow deliberate movements certainly ratcheted up his anticipation. He didn’t know whether this was a good or a bad thing.

“Don’t take off your pants all the way,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“I love the way the clothes rub against my inner thighs … makes it feel so deliciously dirty.”

Damn, she was perfect.

He slid off his shoes, unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper. Then he put a knee on the bed, reaching for her leg to pull her to him. Settling between her thighs, he raised himself up on his arms and framed her face. “I’m on the brink of falling really hard.”

Her brow arched. “Is that so?” Her voice sounded nonchalant, but there was no hiding the hitch in her breathing.

“Yes. You’ve ruined my perfectly ordered existence.”

“Oh, you mean I made you more likable?”

“Smartass.”

“Bossy.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “You like my bossiness.”

“And you love my smartass mouth.”

“What am I going to do about you?”

She smiled slowly. “Make love to me?”

He didn’t answer her with words. He answered her with a kiss. Slow and deliberate, he kissed her. Tongues tangled, plunged, and swirled, searching each other deeper. They searched for their truths and yearnings, exposing their aspirations and that tiny niggle of uncertainty in defining their feelings for each other. Passion threatened to take over, but John was determined to take it slow and managed his pace, making her lips swollen with his kisses.

He nipped at her jaw and worked his mouth against the sensitive pulse at her neck, before he angled her body to undo the zipper at the back of her dress, pulling it painstakingly down her curves to reveal her tits. The image he’d been trying to push out of his mind all night was finally here—Nadia naked with only that diamond necklace around her neck, still wearing heels.

After removing the dress, he slipped off her thong. Rising to his knees between her thighs, he stared down at her for a moment, taking in the sensuality of how the light from outside cast a pearlescent glow to her skin. He committed her in that moment to memory.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered.

A sensual smile curved her lips.

Grinning, he adjusted himself on the bed in the perfect position to go down on her. “I love this view,” he murmured against her pussy. “I love the smell of you right here.” He ran a finger through her folds. “And you’re wet. So fucking wet.”

From his position, he could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re being so good and patient. You need me so badly here. Want me to fuck you hard, but that’s not what you’re getting tonight. I’m going to love your body, Nadia. The way it deserves.”

He lowered his head and tasted fucking ambrosia. His tongue darted out and swiped broadly from her opening to her clit. It was always this way with her. The madness between plunging inside her with his cock and making her come over and over on his tongue. He added two fingers to his assault, crooking them up where her sweet spot was and she shot off like a rocket. She screamed and it became his mission to make her scream some more, until the yanking of his hair told him to back off. He withdrew his fingers but continued to suck on her swollen clit.

Then he trailed kisses up her body until they were face to face once more.

Her makeup was smeared, yet she looked glorious. A satisfied smile touched his mouth because he was the one who mussed her up. He was the one who wrecked her.

He linked their hands together and he rocked into her, reveling at the slick heat clenching his cock in a vise. He saw her eyes close and watched every expressive nuance fleet across her face. He was mastering Nadia Powell in a way that would ensure she would crave only his touch. He tried his best to keep it slow and make it last. But taking Nadia skin to skin always worked up the beast inside him.

Gritting his teeth, he reined in his feral lust, making his heart take control of the demands of the flesh. He ground his hips in a circle, knowing the contact with the top of her pussy triggered her pleasure.

“Oh! Harder. There.”

He was right.

She was coming again. Her moans of pleasure almost causing him to come undone. When she rounded him with her limbs, he knew it was time to let go.

He sped up his thrusts, his cock growing impossibly hard. The clenching of her pussy demanded his surrender. After a few more shallow thrusts, he planted himself deep.

Emptying himself inside her, pleasure jolts rippled endlessly all over him as he continued pumping into her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rolling off to her side to avoid crushing her, yet not wanting to lose the connection, he dragged her into his embrace.

His heart throbbed in his ears, and he wondered if he would ever recover his breath. So much for slow, the anticipation and holding back nearly stroked him. Nadia snuggled into his side, and slid a bare leg across his thighs.

“Thank you for tonight. This is some date.”

“Nothing too good for you,” he said. “Night’s not over yet.”

“I wondered,” she said huskily. “Can we do it doggy style?”

His dick jumped in response to that. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.”