Free Hit: A Thriller (The Codename: Chandler) by J.A. Konrath, Jack Kilborn, Ann Voss Peterson Page B

the same, Simone and him, He’d felt it the moment he first saw her and now he knew at least part of the reason why.
    The Instructor had taught them both how to think, how to kill, and most of all, how not to feel.
    That lesson had never sunk in with Heath, but then he’d come to The Instructor with fire for revenge running in his veins. After witnessing Simone’s passion, he guessed that lesson hadn’t fully taken root in her, either.
    But that didn’t mean he could trust her.
    He leaned over Simone, bringing his face close. “Did he send you after me?”
    A small crease dug between her eyebrows. “You?”
    She was feeling the effects of the drug, so he would make it simple. “Are you here to kill me?”
    “Why would I be sent for you?”
    “Don’t pretend with me. By now you know I am no more a bodyguard than you are a hooker. You should really be more careful about pillow talk. It gave you away.”
    “Pillow talk? I… I didn’t say anything.”
    “I wasn’t listening to your words, querida. I was reading your body.”
    Heath traced a finger over the tiny white line, clearly visible against her smooth belly. He didn’t know what the scar was from, but he knew where she got it.
    Because he had one as well.
    It was there at the bottom of his navel, just like hers, a little white smile. But while her skin was smooth, he had the hair of a man, making the scar hard to see unless you knew where to look.
    Her eyes focused on his for a moment. “What are you, some kind of spy?”
    Did she not know?
    He concentrated on the feel of her body beneath him. Her heart was pounding hard. She hadn’t had enough of the tequila to succumb quickly to whatever she had laced it with, but she was having trouble regulating her reactions and thinking things through. He had a sense for this woman, a visceral understanding of her, and right now he judged she was telling the truth. She hadn’t been sent for him.
    And that meant The Instructor must not know he was here.
    Heath needed to keep it that way.
    “I’ll pay you to let me go.” She said, her tongue slightly fumbling over the words.
    Heath smiled. “You can’t afford me.”
    She bucked her hips.
    Still straddling her, he rode the wave of her body. “If you are trying to arouse me even more, it is working.”
    “Fuck you.”
    Simone might be drugged and naked and tied, but she was not beaten.
    She was magnifico .
    “So you have come for Bratton, no? I will not stand in your way. But I’m afraid I must leave you here, bound and beautiful. I can’t have you following me.”
    “Give me the key, and I won’t follow.”
    “I might be in love with you, mamacita , but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
    He sprang off her, getting clear of the bed just in time to dodge a kick directed at him.
    “So fiery and passionate. You make me wish I never had to leave.”
    “So don’t.”
    Heath still had some time left, so he sat on the bed and began to stroke her once again.
    She spread her thighs and gave him a smile he could feel in his groin. “Let me go. I want to touch you, too.”
    “Just seeing you, feeling you is more than I can take, querida .”
    She pulled against her bindings, tried to close her legs, but by then he knew her body. Knew how to make it react.
    “Your struggle only makes you more beautiful, Simone. Let me make you come once more. As a way to say goodbye.”
    “You’re a bastard.”
    “ Sí , yes.”
    “I hate you.”
    “I know.”
    He continued to touch her, adjusting the rhythm, gauging her expression, reading her level of passion, until she finally gave in and didn’t try to retreat any more. Until she pressed against him. And then he teased, touching her with less pressure, pulling his fingers away as she stretched for him. When she began to groan with frustration, no doubt hating him even more—more than desiring him—Heath pushed two fingers deep inside her and massaged her with his thumb, flicking as fast as he could, making her cry