Free Hot as Hell by Unknown Page B

sure, logically, he could accept she was in law enforcement, which always entailed
    the potential of danger, but she’d been working undercover as part of a fricking incident response
    team, not a highly trained special operations team. He’d intersected with Interpol IRT teams while
    undercover for the CIA. The incident response teams were mostly made up of desk-jockey analysts
    and investigative support personnel more akin to crime scene investigators; their job was to assist the
    local cops, not risk their lives.
    While Dawn might’ve had more advanced training than most IRT members—and thank fuck for
    that—Sam hadn’t been impressed at all with her team in Belize, led by the fucking idiot Lloyd. Dawn
    had been deep undercover, shit had happened, and she’d received absolutely zero backup from her
    team. Again, Sam mentally swore at the image of her working the nude beaches of South France for
    drug connections and meeting with informants on the rough, seedy docks of Marseilles.
    Get your head on straight, dumb ass. She’s alive to talk about it, which means she has the skills
    and instincts to do the job.
    If he kept telling himself those salient facts long enough, he might begin to believe them.
    Sam took a deep breath and looked at her.
    Her big green eyes held understanding, sympathy, as if she’d read his thoughts. “Sam, I made
    it out. I’m good at what I do.”
    Yeah, she read him well… too well.
    Sam exhaled slowly and focused on shoving the past where it belonged—under old news. The
    reality was—Interpol was out of the picture. Now Dawn had real backup. SSI employed highly trained
    men and women who cared about their peers—and protected innocents in the path of danger—while
    still managing to produce superior results.
    But there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head—“No more fucking nude beaches.”
    Well, not unless he was with her… and the beach was one hundred percent private… and they were
    the only two humans present.
    Sam walked toward her. “No more bathing suits that invite men to do this.” He took hold of the
    strips of fabric and ripped them away, leaving her naked but for her nipple rings and her low-heeled
    sandals. He fisted his hands by his side; if he touched the nipple rings the way he wanted, he’d be
    taking her on the counter.
    “Sam?” Her voice was throaty, both sexy and a little wary. “Why are you so angry about the
    nude beaches? You weren’t around back then. As for the suit, you and Conn were at the pool, nothing
    bad could happen.”
    That was for damn sure. As long as he had a breath in his body, he’d never let anything or
    anyone hurt her if he could prevent it. And that included himself.
    “Didn’t say my reaction was logical … it just is.” He swept a lock of hair off her shoulder with a
    shaky hand—his hand never shook. He could be out-numbered and under fire by bad-ass tangos, and
    he had nerves of steel. That was how he knew Dawn was the one; just the thought of her in danger or
    hurt had him shaking like a green recruit.
    He brushed a light kiss where the strap of her swimsuit had left a deep pink indentation on one
    shoulder. “After I feed you and we revisit that kiss, I plan on making love to you before we take our nap.
    You down with that?”
    Dawn stared at him for several seconds, seconds that had him holding his breath as he waited
    for her response.
    “Why now?” She leaned in and placed a butterfly-soft kiss on the exposed skin in the opening
    of his shirt. “After our conversation last night, I figured we’d wait until after the op.”
    The light brush of her lips had him leaking precum and, if possible, getting even harder. He
    fisted his hands on her bare, lower back and fought for more of his vaunted control. He was a second
    or so away from lifting her and taking her where they stood. But their first time should be on a bed
    where he could give her the several orgasms he’d planned before taking