Free Hot Ice (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 7) by Lynn Raye Harris Page A

her again and damn the consequences.
    They reached the pizza joint, and he went inside to pick up the pizza. A few minutes later, after he’d checked her house for any signs of entry, he escorted her and the pizza inside and set it down on the counter.
    The house was quiet after the noise of the ballroom and the tension in the car when Flash was listening in. He almost felt like he could breathe again.
    Almost, but not quite.
    Grace stood in her kitchen in her pretty black dress, her shoulders bare where her wrap had slipped down to reveal skin. Her strappy little shoes were sexy as hell, and she somehow managed to look sweetly pretty and damn uncertain of herself at the same time.
    “Why don’t you go change? You’ll be more comfortable eating pizza in something that’s not cinched around your body like that dress.”
    She disappeared, her shoes tapping on the stairs as she went up. He let out the breath he’d been holding and loosened his tie. Then he followed her up the stairs, heading for the guest room where he was staying.
    Her door opened as he took the last step onto the landing. She was standing there in her dress, her feet bare this time. She was shorter now, not quite on eye level with him like she was when wearing those heels.
    “Brooke zipped me into this dress,” she said, her voice smooth and soft. “I can’t get it undone.”
    Fuck . Garrett walked over to her door, and she turned around. The light from the lamps in the hallway spilled onto her shoulders. Her skin gleamed so pale and white—and so beautiful, like silk in the soft glow of the lamps.
    He wanted to lower his mouth to her skin and lick it.  
    Instead, he reached for her zipper, tugged it slowly down her back while his dick throbbed in response. He tugged it farther than he needed to for her to reach it, but once he started, he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to keep going, wanted to see what kind of panties she was wearing, but he stopped when he reached the small of her back, his fingers almost shaking with the effort.
    His gaze slid over the skin he’d revealed. He’d thought she might be wearing a strapless bra, but her back was smooth and bare, and his cock grew harder at the thought of her breasts released from their confinement.
    She didn’t move, and he couldn’t. But then she shot him a quizzical look over her shoulder.
    “The hook?”
    Garrett dragged his gaze to the back of the dress. Of course, the fucking hook. He’d released her from the dress, but he’d left it hooked at the top. He took both sides of the dress, the backs of his fingers brushing against her skin, and worked the hook free.
    The dress fell open, revealing much more of her back than he’d already seen, but she spun around, holding it up to her chest. Her eyes were wide as they met his.
    “Thank you.”
    He had to clear his throat. “Anytime.”
    She gave him a smile and then closed the door in his face. He hobbled his way to his room, his body aching with thwarted need, and briefly considered jerking off before going back downstairs to eat pizza with her.
    Or maybe he should just stay right here. Keep away from the temptation altogether. Part of him wanted to laugh— temptation? Since when had Grace Campbell gone from spoiled pain in the ass to temptation?
    In the end, he changed out of his tux, dragged on jeans and a T-shirt, and made a quick call to Matt Girard to report about seeing Ian Black tonight. He knew Richie would pass it on to Mendez. Then he went back downstairs to find the pizza box gone and the sound of a television coming from the media room. He walked inside to find her curled on one end of the couch, a paper plate with a slice of pizza on it in her hand, and a movie starting on the screen.
    He grabbed his own slice and went to the opposite end of the couch. “What’s the movie?”
    “I don’t know. Something with explosions.”
    Garrett propped his feet on the ottoman and lifted the slice to his lips. Explosions. Just what he