Crossing The Line (KTS Book 2) Page 9

  But I’d been so comfy in Linc’s arms that it had slipped my mind.

  We’d gorged ourselves on pasta, salad, and bread, and then he’d put on one of my absolute favorite movies, Die Hard.

  How the man had discovered so much about me was a freaking mystery. He just kept telling me that he paid attention, but it couldn’t simply be that. I’d dated plenty of men, and I could count on one hand—hell, on one finger—those that could remember my middle name, let alone my favorite movie or author.

  Linc was different.

  He seemed to know me better than I knew myself.

  And I’d just stopped hating him, what . . . four? Five? Days ago?

  Hate or love—well, like—didn’t matter. Because I was really hating what was happening on my side right now.

  That being, the stitches, partially overgrown, having to be tugged out of my skin.

  I cursed as he removed another, clenching my fingers into the sheet and trying not to smack his hand away so I could just do it myself. I knew he was trying to be gentle, knew it wasn’t his fault.

  But . . . fucking hell, that hurt.

  “Come on,” he said, slowly working on the next one. “You ladies wax your hoo-hahs. This can’t be that bad in comparison.”

  “Waxing,” I said, gritting my teeth, “isn’t this fucking slow. It’s one rip and done.”

  He paused, glanced up at me. “You want me to rip your skin out?”

  “No—I mean, yes.” I gestured with one hand to my side. “No, skin. Yes, rip faster.”

  “I’m trying not to hurt you.”

  I snatched the tweezers. “Give it here,” I muttered.

  He handed me the small pair of scissors, and I noticed he was trying to bite back a smile.

  “What?” I snapped as I went to work on the few remaining sutures.

  “I just knew that sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to resist taking the job over for yourself.”

  I winced as I made quick work of the remaining few stitches, going with the snip and rip method rather than the slow, inexorable tug that Linc seemed to have perfected. And, frankly, by the time I’d finished with the last one, I wasn’t sure whose method was better.

  But the stitches were out.

  I could resume normal duties—sort of. Light duties were going to be my speed for the next little while.

  Which was fine. I’d be able to at least do something more productive than just lazing about.

  “Here.” My eyes drifted to Linc, watching as he gathered the trash and put the sharps into a bin to be disinfected. Then he came back over, bending a little in order to stare at my side. “I think one more day with a fresh bandage, and you’ll be good to go back to light duty.”

  Since I had just been thinking the same thing, I only nodded in response.

  “What do you have planned for today?” he asked, as though we hadn’t just spent the better part of the last day in each other’s arms discussing everything under the sun, including my desire to go back to work.

  “I’m going to catch up on paperwork,” I said. “I’ve seen quite a few files cross my inbox but haven’t been in the right mental headspace to actually process them.”

  “I’m sure your entire team is going to be raring to go once Ava and Dan get cleared.”

  “That’s probably the understatement of the year.”

  He smiled. “Can I see you tonight?”

  “Are you calling in your marker for our one date?”

  “No.”

  I pushed up from the bed, found my feet, ignoring his steadying hand on my arm. I was feeling a little prickly and wanted to brush it away, but I knew that was just because I was feeling off-center.

  This man had stormed into my life in the last week, and he was wonderful, and part of me just wanted to get swept up in all that wonderful.

  But my experience had taught me that all the wonderful didn’t last.

  Hell, his experience should have taught him that.

  And maybe it had. Maybe he just had more courage than me, was willing to potentially get hurt again. And . . . maybe I wasn’t.

  “Slow, Pop.”

  I blinked, glancing up from where I’d paused, my feet on the floor, my butt resting on the edge of the bed in the infirmary. “What?”

  He leaned next to me. “We’ve got plenty of time.” His fingers came to mine, lacing them together and lifting my hand so he could kiss the back of it. “This doesn’t have to be fast and stressful.”

  “What does it have to be then?” I grumbled.

  “Just us,” he murmured.

  I sighed. “I don’t even know what us is.” This was all moving so fast. “Last night you had your tongue in my pussy, and today you’re my doctor. Hell, it seemed like it was just last month you hated me, and this last week you’ve been charming, trying to win me over—”

  “Is it working?”

  A huff. “No.”

  Linc smiled, a slow curve of his lips that had my stomach clenching, my pussy throbbing as I remembered exactly how good it had felt to have his mouth there. “It’s working,” he said.

  “It’s not—”

  His lips descended, dropping to mine and taking my mouth in a kiss that sent my pulse skyrocketing, my body drifting through space until it met the hard, glorious breadth of his.

  “It’s working,” he said again. Then he released me, turned for the door. “I’ll come by your rooms at seven.”

  He disappeared into a puff of smoke.

  Okay, not so much smoke as the man silently walked through the door and out into the hall, leaving me in the patient room with tingling lips, breath that still came in fits and gasps.

  And a lady boner the size of a redwood.

  This man was dangerous.

  He was also right.

  It was working.

  I glanced at my watch, saw that it was 7:15, and made a face.

  I shouldn’t be disappointed.

  I was the one who’d left my rooms at 6:30 with the express purpose of hiding from Linc.

  Immature? Yes. Cowardly? Also yes.

  Ridiculous in a small base where it wasn’t that hard to find someone, especially with all the security measures in place? Triple yes.

  But it was 7:15, and the man hadn’t found me.

  He was a KTS agent. He should have found my semi-lame hiding spot. The same semi-lame hiding spot that I was calling myself an idiot six ways to Sunday for using, and the same one I’d warred with myself for using.

  It was just . . . I needed to keep something back.

  Otherwise—

  I was going to get hurt.

  And yet, if I kept hiding, I was going to miss out. Seeing Dan and Ava, Laila and Ryker being so fucking happy was giving me serious FOMO vibes. What if Linc was my Dan, my Ryker? What if we could have what they had?

  But . . . how could we?

  Because I wasn’t like Ava and Laila.

  Yes, I hated myself for saying that. Yes, I knew I was pretty fucking great and smart. Yes, I knew that Linc was a good guy, had enough good guy examples in my life to recognize they weren’t a rare species of unicorn. They existed. My friends were them. My friends loved them.

  They existed.

  The only niggling doubt was . . . did they exist for me?

  And, yes, I hated myself for thinking that as well.

  It was just . . .

  What?

  Easier to pretend I was lacking so I didn’t have to take that step and put myself out there, didn’t have to get burned again, to have my heart broken again? Yes. Because if I wasn’t worthy, then I didn’t need to let Linc close, and my armor stayed intact. See? The perfect scenario.

  I stayed safe.

  I continued doing a job I loved.

  Except, FOMO.

  Because if I fucking ran before I gave Linc and I a chance then . . . what?

  I would be a fucking weakling, that was what.

  I’d never run from a situation in my life. I’d paused, th
ought things through, made sure I was absolutely ready to commit. But then I jumped in with both feet.

  And after spending the night in Linc’s arms—and one day, too, I supposed—I needed to cut the wavering bullshit.

  I’d already jumped.

  To pretend otherwise was a waste of everyone’s time.

  I pushed out of the gym, where I’d been doing a pathetically small number of reps with a pathetically small amount of weight. “You are not a fucking coward, Olive. You get your fucking head straight and you fucking—”

  “Distracted.” A big body stepped in front of mine, making me skid to a stop. A large, gentle palm cupped my jaw. “Cursing.”

  I blinked up at Linc. “How the hell did you find me?”

  “I pay—”

  “Attention,” I finished. Yes, my tone was a bit snarky. But good God, did the man ever have another explanation? “What’s the fucking truth?”

  A shrug. “I followed you.”

  My eyes rose high enough to get lost in my hairline. “You followed me?” I glared, even though I was a bit embarrassed to not have noticed. Though, I supposed I already knew that Linc wouldn’t hurt me, at least not physically, so perhaps my instincts had just accepted his presence without warning me.

  Either that or I was really losing my touch.

  “Yup.” He slung an arm around my shoulder, tucked me against his side. “Got there at 6:30 because I knew you were going to try to pull a fast one. And unsurprisingly, you were just coming out of your room. It was easy to keep my distance and still keep track of you.” He kissed the top of my head. “Figured I’d let you pump a little iron. Let out some of that frustration.”

  “You’re the source of my frustration.”

  “I know.” Another kiss to the top of my head had me squirming out of his arms. “Isn’t it great?” he asked, reeling me back in and laying a hot, deep, wet one on me. No warning. Not moving slowly. No careful descent or overly gentle hands.

  One moment we were several feet apart.

  The next I was plastered against his chest, and his tongue was practically down my throat.

  Or maybe that was my tongue down his? Maybe it was me pulling him closer instead of the other way around? I couldn’t be sure, either way. And I supposed I didn’t really care to find out, not when this man was kissing me like an absolute god, not when I was ready to tear both of our clothes off, right here in the hall.

  Distantly, I heard a click.

  Then voices.

  But by then Linc’s hand had moved to my butt, angling my hips against his erection, and fucking hell, that was good.

  Good enough that I ignored whoever was coming our way.

  “Holy balls.”

  Laila.

  Fucking hell, my commanding officer had just stumbled across me sucking face with a fellow agent in a public area of a base. I tore my lips from Linc’s, not really thinking as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, missing—or at least barely classifying the dark look that action rent on his face—and spun to face my boss.

  Knowing my lips were swollen from said sucking face.

  Knowing my cheeks were red-hot because holy hell, the man could kiss, and my C.O. was staring at me with amusement dancing across her face.

  Knowing . . . that, oh God, I was never going to live this down.

  “Lay,” I said, swallowing hard several times until I could get some sort of statement out of my mouth. “Um. Hey. What’s up?”

  Some sort of statement being not a great one.

  Laila cleared her throat, eyes filled with mirth. “Nothing much. What are you doing?” she asked innocently.

  Nothing I hadn’t caught her and Ryker doing a million times, and yet, me getting caught was critically embarrassing. Yet, me getting caught had me ready to commandeer some C-4 and blow a hole in the floor so that I could jump in it. And maybe use the rubble to bury myself.

  “Nothing,” I said, trying to play it cool. “I was just going to grab some dinner. Did you want to come with me?”

  Her gaze flicked over my shoulder.

  Linc was still at my back, his heat surrounding me, and I could have sworn I heard him curse . . . or maybe it was a growl?

  Was it actually possible for a man to make that sound?

  Regardless, he had. I heard it, felt it skid along my spine.

  And Laila, apparently, heard it, too. Her lips twitched. “Not today, Ollie. I think . . . well, I think your dinner plans are already spoken for.” She tugged a strand of my hair. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, now that you’re ready for some action.”

  “Light duty,” Linc said.

  Okay. Growled.

  This time there was no swearing. It was definitely a growl. I spent a moment thinking about how that might feel between my thighs, only obliquely tuning into the conversation.

  “What?” Laila asked.

  “She’s only cleared for light duty,” he snapped, moving to stand in front of me, a position that had me focusing—and not on my fantasies involving this man. “Not action.”

  “Ah.” Laila paused. “I would say this is my team, and I make the final determination for the members of it. However,” she said, her tone turning teasing in a way that had me shoving at Linc’s back, trying to move around him. “You’ve got the Ryker scowl happening, so I know that you’ve got all sorts of pesky emotions messing with your mind right now. Which means, I’ll let your questioning of my decisions slide.” Her voice hardened. “For this one time. Also, to put those emotions at ease”—here she patted him on the shoulder—“by action, I meant the copious amounts of files we need to go through in order to track down Daniel, since that’s our mission now.”

  I finally succeeded in getting around Linc. “But what about the Mikhailova?”

  “Back-burnered until we figure out the situation with Daniel.”

  I didn’t like the idea of leaving the Mikhailova out there to potentially traffic and hurt more innocent people, but I understood that until we had taken out Daniel, KTS couldn’t run effectively. How could we focus on taking out the bad guys if we had to spend most of our time watching our backs?

  It wouldn’t work.

  But I still hated that the mob was out there, spreading their special brand of evil.

  Still, I nodded and said, “Got it.” Both because I did and because Laila was my team leader, and this wasn’t a moment to question her decision.

  Her eyes flicked to mine then back over my shoulder again, mouth curving into a smile I couldn’t begin to interpret. “Have fun, kids.” She walked away. “Oh, and Ollie?”

  I was frowning, trying to decode that smirk of hers. “Hmm?”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “What?” My brows drew together, and I turned to glance up at Linc. “Why did she say good luck—”

  His lips slammed down on mine.

  This was heat and desire, but there was also a tinge of irritation laced in the contact, as though he were trying to brand me with his mouth, to imprint himself on my soul.

  When we broke apart, my heart racing, it was to find that his gray eyes were filled with thunderclouds.

  “Don’t wipe that one off,” he muttered, taking my hand and tugging me forward.

  My chest was heaving in a way that spoke very little to the copious amounts of cardio I forced myself to do. “What are you talking about?”

  He leaned down, nipped my bottom lip. “You wiped your mouth earlier, like you were ashamed, like you were dirty after my kiss.”

  I thought back, confusion warring with irritation. “That’s not what I was doing.”

  A brow lifting. “Then what were you doing?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “I just . . . wasn’t thinking, I guess. Laila caught us, and I was—”

  “Ashamed?” The question was deathly quiet.

  “No,” I said quickly. “I was just . . . embarrassed, I guess. I’m not used to people coming across me when I’m . . .”

  “
Sticking your tongue down someone’s throat?”

  I winced. “Yeah. That.”

  His lips pressed flat, and I finally noticed what was behind the irritation in his gaze. There was hurt in those storm-cloud gray eyes, and it made my heart squeeze. Because I could see a slender thread of insecurity, and I didn’t want him to feel that way, to think I was ashamed of him, ashamed of what we were doing.

  I couldn’t let him think that.

  I stepped closer, wrapped my arms around his waist. “Do you know what I was planning on doing when I came out of the gym?”

  “No,” he grumbled.

  “I was planning on coming to find you,” I said. “Because all day long, I could only think of the ways this could go wrong. How I could get hurt, how you would prove to be like every other jerkwad I’d ever dated.” He scowled, and I hurried to add, “But as I was sitting there thinking of all the things that could go wrong, thinking that I needed to get the hell out before I was in too deep, I realized I was already in deep.” I cupped his cheek. “For better or worse, I like you, Linc. I like you a whole hell of a lot, and I was kidding myself in thinking that I didn’t want this, that I could possibly be happy if I didn’t give it a chance.” My lips found his for a brief kiss. “I want you. I want to find out what this is between us. Because”—and here I had to push past the fear that wanted to sink its talons in and shake me firmly until I’d regained my normal caution—“I think this thing between us might run deep.”

  He didn’t move.

  For an eternity, he didn’t move.

  His eyes were wide and locked on mine, his lips flattened out, his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking along one side.

  “Fuck, baby.” And then he was lifting me up, turning to pin me against the wall. “Yes, this runs deep,” he said. “This runs really fucking deep.”

  And then he kissed me again.

  And I found I didn’t care who might stumble upon us.

  Because Linc had me covered.

  Chapter Twelve

  KTS Satellite Base

  Western Georgia

  7:22hrs

  Linc

  I really was not happy to be crawling out of bed, leaving a softly snoring Olive behind, her hands pillowed beneath her, her expression placid, her body clad in the cutest fucking pajamas I had ever seen.