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Her hand slid down his arm and landed palm up on the comforter. “Are you kidding?”

Her tone suggested he should be. Too bad reality crept in and smacked him. “No.”

“You're going?” She poked a finger into his chest. “Just like that?”

Behind the tough words, pain flashed in her eyes. She didn't say it but he could almost see the questions about him race through her head. He was one of “those” guys. He fucked and then bolted without ever looking back.

None of that was true.

“Look.” He slid further up her body. Balancing on his elbow so he could loom over her and look her in the eye. “I know this seems like a dick move.”

“Gee, you think?”

He trailed the backs of his finger over her cheek. “I have to go home and get washed up before heading into work.”

She glanced at the clock. “What time do you get in?”

“Early.”

Skepticism still spun around her. “Define that.”

“Before six.”

Her eyes bugged as if the thought horrified her. “I'll barely get up that early for morning classes when school is in session. In summer, six is definitely still sleep time.”

“I can't imagine that.” For kicks he slept in on the weekends until six-thirty.

“Not big on sleep, are you?”

“I only need a few hours and this time the exhaustion was so worth it.”

The doubt left her face. She lifted her head and kissed him, quick but firm. “Sweet talker.”

“I hate to have sex and run, but—”

“Yet you are.”

A fist of unexpected and wanted guilt punched him in the gut. “Kyra—”

“We could call it hit-and-run sex.”

They'd made a deal, had an understanding. He's the one who blew it by jumping his own timeline. “I thought we understood each other. I'm not the guy who got what he wanted and now is moving on. This really is about work.”

She shoved him away and sat up. “Stop, I get it. You have a big, important job.”

Despite the words, he sensed they teetered on the edge of something pretty bad. “I didn't expect to come over this morning. Hell, I haven't slept for something like twenty-four hours.”

She froze in the act of reaching for her tee. “Why did you come?”

“Once I touched you, put my fingers inside you, I wanted more. All of it.”

“Well then.” She took a long shuddering breath. “You should go before I forget my good intentions and have my wicked way with you. Don't want to mess up your billable hours or have a client end up in jail because you're sleeping at your desk.”

With those words the tension that had been revving up a second ago fizzled out. Crisis averted . . . he hoped. Next time he'd pick his words more carefully. And work on his timing.

He should have stopped there and let it go, but . . . “We're good?”

“For now.”

“Remember every move you planned to use on me and we'll practice them at my house tomorrow.” He slid off the bed and grabbed for his pants off the floor.

“We'll see.”

“I'm ignoring your attempt at a dismissal.” It took two fumbling tries to get his zipper up and the belt redone. “What time do you work?”

“I'll switch shifts.”

He had his shirt on and tried to focus enough to rebutton it. “Are you sure?”

“If you can go without sleep for me, I can shift my schedule around for you.”

“I plan on doing many things for and to you.” The list ran through his head and he almost unzipped his pants again. “There are positions I'm ready to try. A whirlpool tub I think you'll like.”

“Maybe I should nap today.”

Damn, she made him smile. “Definitely rest up because I will never be too tired to pin you to a bed and slide inside you.”

He could see it now. Hell, he didn't even have to dream it. The memory of how she felt and smelled, the sounds she made as she came, all played in his head.

She stood up, holding her T-shirt in front of her. “On that note, you should go before we both forget our lives outside of this room and crawl back into bed.”

Recognizing she was right, he planted a quick kiss on her sexy mouth. Locating the rest of his clothes took another minute. He felt her gaze on him. She watched it all, even him putting on his jacket and heading for the door.

Seeing her standing there tempted him to call in sick for the first time in . . . forever. “I'll call you in a few hours—”

“After nine, please.”

“—so we can figure out a time and the logistics for getting you to my house.”

She rolled her eyes. Looked as if she'd been saving that up during most of the conversation. “I have this thing called a car.”

“And I have these things called manners.”

“Sometimes those can get in the way.” She dipped the shirt and gave him a shot of her breasts. Also sent him an eyebrow wiggle. “But I'll be waiting.”

He couldn't believe how long it took him to drag his gaze away from her chest and give her eye contact again. “That sounds far hotter than it should.”

But no way was he leaving her half naked and hanging out in the hall as he walked out. To keep that from happening and cut down on the temptation, he took the shirt out of her hands and slipped it over her head. But not before touching every inch of exposed skin before the material covered her. Then he kissed her again, loving the way she melted into him.

When he broke it off, she reached around him to open the door and push him into the hallway. “You're in charge.”

“Yes, Kyra. I am.”

•   •   •

Kyra's legs still shook as she watched him walk down the hall and away from her place. Confidence radiated off him and showed in every sure step. The way he looked back and winked had her insides doing a little dance. She was so lost in the memory of him and look of him that she didn't hear the door open across the hall.

“That was quick,” Gena whispered as she joined in watching Bast turn the corner toward the elevator bank.

The sound made Kyra jump. “I didn't know you were out here.”

With her hair in a barely-holding-on ponytail and wearing lounge pants, Gena looked as if she just staggered out of bed. “Obviously.”

Sure he was gone, Kyra eyed her friend. “And the word you were looking for is ‘spectacular,' not ‘quick.'”

Gena laughed. More like giggled. “I can tell by the goofy expression.”

Not wanting to put her private life on display, not after promising discretion, Kyra motioned for Gena to come inside and close the door behind her.

Despite the hour and the fact her bones had turned to jelly, Kyra smiled as she slumped down on the edge of her bed. “Why are you up so early?”

Gena hovered by the door, as if coming closer might put her too close to the just-finished action. “I was pulling an all-nighter and heard voices.”

“In other words, you were nosy and listening with a glass to the wall.”

Gena grew more serious. “I heard a hot male voice, so sort of.”

Kyra refused to let her good mood be derailed by whatever was going on inside Gena's head. Kyra liked her, had even grown to trust her, but Gena spent a lot of time overthinking. She didn't jump in and never talked about men in terms of a raw physical attraction. Describing her relationships, they all sounded measured and, Kyra feared, a bit boring.

She wanted Gena to break out and experience something—anything—that made her gasp. Every woman should enjoy a good gasp now and then.

The thought brought her mind zipping right back to Bast. “The smooth way he talks is not even the sexiest part about him.”

Gena shrugged. “The part I saw retreating looked pretty good.”

At least she noticed. Kyra viewed that as progress. “You have no idea.”

Gena leaned back against the wall and shuffled her feet. Then she stared at her hands. A second later she peeked up again. “What about the leaving?”

Something stilled inside Kyra. “What?”

“Are we dealing with the type of guy who leaves skid marks getting out after the sex is done?”

Even though the same worry shot across her senses when Bast talked of having to leave, Kyra's fury started to simmer. It was one thing for her to question and another for Gena to try to put doubts in her head.

Rather than yell and let her anger spew, Kyra tried to explain. “He has to go to work today. Something about a big meeting.”

“Okay.”

The anger bubbled. “Just say it.”

“Nothing.” When silence fell over the room, Gena started fidgeting again. The talking started right after. “It's that he seemed to be in a rush to go.”

“Why are you trying to make this into something bad?” Kyra fought the urge to take a rough verbal shot. It was a defense mechanism—hurt people before they hurt her—and one Kyra had tamped down on for years, trying to stamp it out of her personality completely. It wouldn't be cool to unload and Gena didn't deserve to become a target.

But Kyra had to make her understand how jumping to the negative ruined everything. “I really like him and it's working out, at least for now, so I want you to be happy for me.”

“It's his type. The rich, connected guy who can call up any woman he wants.” Gena pushed off from the door and stood across from Kyra. “I'm worried.”

Every syllable hit Kyra in the wrong way because she shared the same doubts. “That he's out of my league?”

Gena's mouth flattened. “I didn't say that.”

“Almost.”

“Are you sure I'm the one thinking that and not you?”

Well, that hit too close to home. Kyra had fought for so long to peek out from under her father's awful shadow. The same petty criminal who viewed himself as a crime boss. He'd challenged Jarrett years ago for the run of the streets and lost it and Wade.

After being beaten down and spending some time in prison, her father somehow rose again. He ran a crew and collected on bad debts from his various loans. She had no idea what else he did but guessed none of it was legal.

The only reason she had any breathing room from him now was she played the game. Without telling Wade, she stayed in contact and didn't close the door. Her father actually thought she'd come back and work for him, when she knew college was a way of breaking out and vowed that would never happen.

None of her father's actions connected directly to her but she still carried the guilt. The man buried two wives without shedding even one tear and was courting another, much younger version as he flashed his money and threatened anyone who challenged him. He'd shunned Wade long ago and claimed there was a bounty on his head, for what she could never figure out.

Her father tried to marry her off to associates and drag her into his schemes. And she couldn't hide much of the sordid history from Bast. She wasn't sure about which facts he knew, but he'd dealt with her father back in the Jarrett days.

Bast with his fancy degrees and important family. Her with a family tree filled with decay.

Pushing all the doubt and worry aside, she said the words she repeated in her mind all the time. The ones meant to convince her as well as anyone who would listen. “We're different. I think that's good.”

Gena's frown continued to deepen. “Just because he's got money doesn't make him better than you.”

“I know.” The response was automatic and most days she believed it, but some days the insecurities rose up and kicked her ass.

“Does he?”

“Yes.” Kyra believed that. She had to believe that.

There was a brief beat of silence before Gena delivered a wobbly smile. “Then it sounds like everything is good.”

Kyra didn't know if that was true, but at least she'd made significant relationship progress. Her word, not his. He appeared allergic to the very idea of a relationship. “I'm supposed to go to his place tomorrow night.”

“Now that's impressive.” Gena traced her fingertip along the edge of the dresser. “If he didn't trust you with the silverware, you wouldn't have gotten an invite.”

“I didn't think of it that way.” And she wasn't sure she wanted to.

“You should.” Gena dropped her hand and headed for the door. “We'll celebrate after we both get a few hours of sleep.”

Kyra realized the knocking was the sound of her tapping foot and stopped. “Believe it or not, I know what I'm doing.”

After holding at the door, Gena glanced over her shoulder. “You're not the one I'm wondering about.”

The next day had gone to hell before eight in the morning. More than ten hours later Bast had corrected all the misdirection and cleaned up the fallout from every client explosion. It was as if the good people of DC had lost their minds. So much complaining, and one businessman after another who wanted out of problems without writing a big check. Talk about not understanding how the power game was played in this town.

The worst news came a half hour ago. Natalie insisted on coming in today instead of tomorrow as scheduled. He half expected her to show up in his doorway demanding his attention. That's the way she operated. She didn't give people the opportunity to say no. She hovered and swooped when you weren't looking. Bast admired the strategy.

If a man acted the same way, he'd be praised for his strategy. Natalie took a lot of flak for being tough and smart. For all the forward strides, the CIA remained a boys' club, run by powerful men and some who wished they were, hampered by archaic thinking. Things were changing but not fast enough for Natalie to get the credit she deserved.

Bast knew because he'd negotiated the deal for Elijah and Becca with Natalie in the room. She asked the right questions and pushed for concessions at the right time before talking about letting two valued agents—her words—go. She played every move as Bast would have done. Didn't concede much and stayed focused.

Her male superiors underestimated her and talked around her. Bast didn't make that mistake. He recognized her power and refused to attend any meeting without her being present and signing off on the deal. But that didn't mean he wanted to see her now.

No, he mapped it all out. He'd head over to Kyra's place in about an hour. Tuck her in his car and get her to his home and into bed, then keep her there. No clothes. No limits. No talk of anything except what he intended to do to her.

A simple plan.

Natalie ruined all of that. She talked about an emergency that heightened her concern for her safety. For a woman like Natalie to divulge even that much meant the walls were about to come down around her. Bast had a soft spot for her. One that took some time to develop, but it existed. Which meant all the things he wanted to do to Kyra had to wait.

After asking his assistant to hold his calls and shutting his door and locking it against the buzz of activity in the office halls and the conference room a few doors down, Bast lifted the receiver and punched in Kyra's cell number.

She picked up on the second ring. “Are you downstairs already?”

Wrong conclusion. He really had to work on the shitty treatment she accepted from guys in the past. “When I pick you up, I'll park the car and come to the door.”

“Not the honk-the-horn type?”

“Not for about fifteen years.” The scratchy sound on the line registered. When he realized she sounded breathless his mind went to a dirty place. “What exactly are you doing?”

Her long exhale echoed in his ear. “How can you tell I'm doing anything?”

“My hearing is fine and your breathing is all harsh and hot.”

“Smart-ass.”

The labored breathing continued but he also heard the smile in her voice. She had to know the breathy thing would do something to him. He wouldn't be surprised if she saw his number and got all flustered just to torture him. If so, point to Kyra because all he could think about now was her body stretched out across her bed with him over her.

He decided to share. “You sound like you did when you begged me to fuck you faster.”

A beat of silence filled the line. “Are you really at work?”

Yeah, the sex talk on work time surprised him, too. He only intended to call and talk scheduling. Now his mind wandered to a much hotter place.

“In my big office with the door closed.” He leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand up and down his leg as the sudden need to keep moving hit him.

“Well, aren't you naughty?” The breathiness fell away and that husky fuck-me-now tone took its place.

He loved that sound. “I plan to be very soon.”

“What time are you coming over?”

He could hear her moving around. Her voice cut from soft to loud as if she kept shifting the cell in her hand. The temptation to stall by asking her what she was doing came and went. He needed to spell this out. “That's the problem. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Scheduling issue.”

“Okay.” Her voice boomed through the phone. So did her anger.

“Wow.” His chair squeaked as he rolled closer to the edge of his desk and leaned on his elbows. “It's amazing how that one word managed to telegraph ‘you're an ass' and ‘I'm going to castrate you' at the same time.”

“Picked up on that, did you?” The sharp whack of her voice made her point.

“I have a work emergency.” He kept the response simple and clear. She should understand and—

“Uh-huh.”

Son of a bitch
.

Frustration smacked into him with an edge of anger right behind. People might not like him or want to deal with him, but they trusted him. He didn't fuck around when negotiating and never screwed anyone by playing a bait and switch. Yet the woman he wanted to strip naked and keep that way doubted him.

“You think I'm lying.” Every time he thought it his temperature rose a degree.

“Are you?”

That time he heard another sound in her voice. Maybe hurt. He wasn't sure but now he wondered about the men who came before him. Maybe younger guys threw her lousy pickup lines. The dumbasses. The whole playing-games part of being with someone turned Bast off. He said what he meant and expected to be treated the same way.

Tiptoeing through this minefield would be tough because he could guess the thoughts spinning through her mind. He went with the response least likely to get him kicked in the balls later. “No.”

“That's succinct.”

“Do you need me to have my law partner write you a note verifying my absence? He's out of town but maybe he could fax it in.” When she didn't say anything, not even a “no thanks” to his sarcasm, Bast stomped down his rising anger and tried again. “Well?”

“I'm still thinking.” But some of the heat left her voice.

“This is one of those cases that impacts a lot of people.”

“Including me, apparently.” She huffed as the moving sounds started again.

“Listen to me.” His hand tightened on the phone as he focused on the streaks of color in the painting directly across from him on the wall. “We will push the dinner back one night. That's all I'm talking about.”

This kind of thing happened when people met up to have sex. Schedules got messed up and changes had to be made. No big deal . . . yet part of him sensed it was.

“That means I have to change shifts again.”

She didn't say “duh” but he sensed it. He also hated putting her through a game of musical shifts. That amounted to a big mess, annoying for her and the other attendants at the club. No one liked the person who kept moving schedules around and ensured nothing ever stayed settled. Bast knew that from the in-fighting that occurred every year at the firm as they attempted to work out office coverage over the holidays. The posturing made him sorry to be managing partner.

“Okay, the shift thing sucks. I get that.” He closed his eyes and cursed Natalie. If her life literally wasn't on the line, he'd push her off and go through with his plans.

“Imagine how I feel.”

“I want to spend the whole night with you.” Since he fucked up the leaving part so badly last time, he needed things to go right or this arrangement could end before he had the chance to explore more of her. And he could go a lifetime without seeing a repeat of the expression she shot him early this morning as he reached for his shirt to go. The one that didn't match their casual understanding.

“What are the chances of you canceling again tomorrow?”

“Zero.” No hesitation. That was the goddamn answer. “We'll have dinner at my place tomorrow and—”

“Don't talk about sex when I want to gut punch you.”

“You do?”

She barked out a rough laugh. “For a guy who's supposed to be such a big-time ladies' man, you're being a bonehead.”

“This won't be the last time, so you might want to get used to it.” But it was time to get them back on the sex track. “But maybe there is a way I can make you feel better.”

“That sounds like a lame line.”

“Trust me.”

“A little warning here, there are any number of things you could say next that will ruin your admittedly slow forward progress in our relationship.”

He decided to ignore the word “relationship” and smile anyway. “Like?”

“I'm not a woman you bribe.”

He had no intention of doing that. Exact opposite. His idea would be fun for both of them. “What about seduce?”

“I'm listening again.”

The catch in her voice let him know she was on the hook. “What were you doing when I called?”

“Honestly?”

He thumped his fingers against his desk. The steady beat gave him focus as he fought for control. “That is always how I want you to answer my questions.”

“Okay, Mr. Lawyer Man.”

The way she shot back and verbally sparred with him turned him on almost as much as those legs. She opened her mouth and his temperature spiked and his dick got hard. The thing where she didn't take any shit made him wild to have her. She carried her body and held her ground with a confidence well beyond how he remembered being when he was twenty-something.

“I'm serious.” At this point he was more curious than serious.

“I was on the treadmill.”

Not really the answer he expected. “What?”

“The thing by the window was not, as you may have thought from the stack of shirts, a clothes rack.” She mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. “I cleaned it off for once and used it. Well, technically, I used it for eight minutes, then I saw your number on my cell. Thanks for the diversion even though the subject of this call kind of sucks.”

That was a lot of words. Almost amounted to babbling. He tried to wade through it all. “Why would you have a treadmill and not use it?”

“Laziness, maybe? I have no idea.”

“Yet you look like that.” One of the benefits of being younger and possessing a speedy metabolism, he guessed. If he went days without exercise, his brain got clouded and his gut expanded. “Must be nice.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He'd be damned if he knew what she was trying to tell him, or not tell him. “I guess I'm wondering why you turned it on all of a sudden today.”

She sighed. Even miles away and over a phone line he knew what the noise meant. Something about men being slow and clueless, and him being their idiot king.

“Because I plan to get naked and slide all over you tonight and pretended one day of exercise would tighten up the not-so-tight parts.” This time she snorted. “Scratch that. I
planned
to do that. I may as well go eat a brownie now.”

He ignored the shot because it was crap. The rest could only be described as unbelievable. She had to be fucking kidding. He looked at her ass and could barely form words. He entered her and his brain malfunctioned. And she was over there worrying about calories. The whole idea she didn't see what he saw made him lose his mind.

Trying not to yell because he was already hanging on the edge of never having sex with her again due to the cancellation, he stated his case. “So that we're clear here, you do not need to change your body in any way for me.”

“Decent guys always say things like that.”

“This one means it.” She just didn't give an inch. Women rarely made it this hard on him. He had to admit he didn't hate the change of pace with Kyra. Being challenged suited him. “I think my reaction to seeing you naked should tell you I love everything about how you look.”

“Okay, you're forgiven for being a dumbass earlier.”

If she said one word about a diet, he would drag her over to the club and sit her down for a lecture, then let all of their friends have a turn. “I'm also serious. Do not change one thing for me, except maybe your insistence on wearing underwear. You can knock that off.”

“I'll take that request under advisement.”

Time to get back to the other reason for his call. The one that rose up after he heard her voice. “So, what are you wearing now?”

Her laughter filled the line. “Dirty old man.”

“Damn straight.” No way would he back down now. “Tell me.”

“An exercise bra and bicycle shorts. In other words, an outfit I would never wear outside my apartment.”

Funny but he wanted to see her in it. Look and then peel it off piece by piece. “You shouldn't be wearing it now either.”

“You mean . . .” The breathless quality returned but this sounded different. Deeper . . . sexier.

“Are you all sweaty?” In his mind she was. Sweaty and half naked and two seconds away from getting on her knees in front of him.

“Let me run my hand over my chest and see . . . Well, look at that. I'm wet.”

The inflection in her voice. The soft draw that let him know her thoughts mirrored his own. He loved that she played the game with him. “You should take the clothes off so you don't get sick.”

“It's summer.”

“It can happen. I've read studies.”

“You like stories?” She let out a soft sigh. “Tell me one.”

He had a vision in his head and followed that. “I only know dirty ones.”

“Maybe I should lie down for this.”

Sweet damn, he wished he was in her apartment. He'd have her on her stomach in two seconds. Pushing back against him, begging for his cock to enter her, in five.

He'd have to settle for getting her naked and wet. “But you need to take those clothes off first so you don't get the sheets all sweaty.”