Free Justice (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 2) by Rie Warren

my groin, and a new erection filled my cock until it lay, firm and pulsing, along the inside of my thigh.
    Back to breakfast. Bacon and sausage and . . . maybe I’d have pancakes, too, running with rivers of thick maple syrup.
    And toast. Toast with apricot jam.
    Apricots.
    I shook from that thought, nearly bending the spoon in my hand in half.
    Fuck. Less than twenty-four hours with Tilly and I couldn’t even remember the name of the last woman I’d fucked two hours before Blaize had given us our marching orders. Much less what she’d looked like, or felt like, as I’d seduced her with a smoldering look matched with a handful of words.
    It’d only taken five minutes to convince her to spread her legs for me. And she’d been more than eager, easy to fire up, more than satisfied by the time I’d finished with her.
    But what was her goddamn name again?
    Jamie?
    Lanie?
    Erica?
    “You slept a long time.” Tilly’s voice spread over me like the warmth of sunrays.
    I knew I shouldn’t look at her. Answer her. Hell, even acknowledge her presence. Her appearance made me feel even more restless, sewed into my own tight skin until the seams might burst wide open.
    But I looked anyway. Couldn’t help myself.
    Well, I’d been right about one thing at least.
    I shouldn’t have checked her out.
    I didn’t know how many hours of sleep she’d gotten, but though two smudges formed slight crescents beneath her eyes, any other outward fatigue didn’t show.
    Just the opposite. Her hair was bouncy, loosened over her back and shoulders. Her cheeks were apple fresh, and her skin—beneath the sprinkling of freckles—was creamy. She wore an old T-shirt with the collar and most of the shoulders hacked off. Tight, faded, fringed, and holey jeans clung to her hips and legs.
    I didn’t understand how an innocently bared shoulder could be more enticing, more sexual, than a practiced come-on.
    That hard heat thumped in my cock again, pressing like a hot, aching barrel against my thigh. Pulling my seat closer to the table, I placed my gun on the surface and dragged my gaze from the image she presented—innocence and youth, seduction but with only a hint of suggestion.
    The Heckler was fully loaded, and so was this moment between us. So was something else , insistent in its drilling pressure where it lifted the loose leg of my shorts. Ignoring Tilly, I tried rebuilding my defenses against her that had dropped way too quickly while we’d talked quietly last night.
    I chugged coffee that burned my tongue in order to guard my words. “I knew the guys had everything in hand, or they’d wake me if they didn’t.”
    Speaking of, fuck . Where was everyone else? I needed backup. Goddamn battlements. Something . But I’d just tumbled from bed half an hour ago, and Tilly looked so warm and welcoming, ready to tumble to bed again.
    “I checked in on you,” she said, maintaining that cocked-hip posture in the doorway.
    I choked on the next gulp and then wiped my mouth. “You did?”
    Lifting her shoulders from the doorframe, she began a womanly sway toward me, one foot in front of the other.
    My eyes swerved toward hers. The green light shining in the almond shapes had darkened, reminding me of old copper, tarnished by rain. Dark with intent. Dark with meaning. Dark with want.
    I gulped again.
    Fuck me, but I suddenly felt wet behind the ears.
    Tilly halted beside me, my line of vision interrupted by full tits pressing against the age-worn weave of her T-shirt. Her fingertip traipsed down my chest, stopping just short of where way more than my heartbeat pounded.
    “Just like you looked in on my dad and me last night, after you returned me to bed.” She licked up the straining cords of my neck and nuzzled my ear.
    I gave her better angle, almost breaking the mug in my hands.
    A hot spear of fuck yes now thudded down to my cock.
    “You watched me for a long time, Justice.” Her voice swirled against my ear that burned hot.
    “Wanted to