Free Hard to Come By by Laura Kaye Page A

bow.
    Looking like she still wanted to argue, she slipped it on, and the way she snuggled into it filled him with all kinds of satisfaction.
    “Thanks,” he said to the guy as he grabbed the bag with Jeremy’s shirt. They made their way back out to the street. “See, now you can enjoy the walk.”
    “Well, that might’ve been the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me,” she said, squeezing his hand.
    Marz narrowed his gaze and hoped that wasn’t true, because that had been some basic decency right there. What kind of guys was she seeing, anyway? His gut clenched, both because his kneejerk reaction to the thought had been to dislike the idea of her seeing anyone else. Strongly. Followed closely by the interjection of cold-hard reality that it wasn’t any of his business. It couldn’t be any of his business.
    They returned to her car far too quickly for Marz’s taste, because he wasn’t sure where this left them. This should be good-bye, but a part of Marz sure as shit didn’t want it to be.
    Emilie leaned back against the driver’s door and looked up at him. The turquoise really was pretty on her. “I can’t thank you enough for tonight. It was a wonderful, unexpected surprise and I really enjoyed myself.”
    Marz stepped closer until he was just shy of touching her. He leaned a hand against the top of the car. “Me too.” He swallowed hard and looked down, trying to restrain himself from taking anymore. But that was really freaking hard when the invitation was so plain in her eyes. He looked back up again and met her waiting gaze. “When do you do your pro bono work this week?” he asked against his better judgment.
    “Thursday,” she said.
    He leaned his other hand against the car and boxed her in. The tension and desire were so thick between them, he could’ve cut it with a knife. “Thursday,” he said. “Maybe we could”— What the hell are you doing? —“get together after you’re done.”
    She smiled and licked her lips. “I’d like that.” Tentatively, she brought her hand up to his chest. He nearly groaned as her heat seeped through the cotton.
    “Should we trade numbers?” he managed. In his mind’s eye, he saw Beckett’s gaze narrowing at him, silently asking him what the fuck he was doing.
    Emilie nodded, and they broke apart a little as they grabbed their cells and took turns reciting numbers. And then he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He meant to be good, he really did. But her scent and her softness and her warmth drew him in. Her arms came around him and his body trapped hers against the car.
    There was nothing teasing or tentative about this kiss. Marz kissed her like a starving man at a feast—devouring, claiming, commanding. She moaned into his mouth and drove her fingers into his hair. When she tilted her hips into his erection, he grabbed her ass in one hand and held her tighter to him.
    He had to stop this. Now. Before things went any further. Because, God forbid, if she invited him to leave with her, he was going to get in that fucking car.
    And wouldn’t that be a damned mess.
    He broke away from her lips and they were both breathing hard, chests heaving. Kissing her forehead, he whispered. “Be safe going home.” And then he forced himself to step away.
    Emilie stood there for a second like she couldn’t move, and then she finally said good-bye and got in. She gave a little wave before she backed out, and then Marz was staring at her taillights as they crossed the lot and turned out onto the street.
    Marz scrubbed his hands over his face and hair. “Fuck,” he bit out. This thing with Emilie already was a mess. Fuckfuckityfuck .
    He retrieved his cell and texted Beckett. What’s the extraction plan?
    Just waiting for your ass to text me, dickhead , came Beckett’s reply.
    On top of everything else tonight, Marz couldn’t help but laugh.
    Aw, you love me so hard , he texted back.
    No response. Marz could almost hear Beckett cussing him out.
    My ass and