Free Dare Me by Julie Leto Page A

shook her head.  Because of the low chance that the
scientist would entrust the code to a place in his dissolving home country, Macy
had sent the greenest agents to Russia.  Yes, she’d made sure a more seasoned
analyst led the team, but even the leader lacked Macy’s talent and experience.
    “I need to see the proof.”
    “Abe says the secure network in Russia has been
compromised.  Something to do with the power grid.  They’re resetting the
system.  The information will be here in twenty minutes, thirty at the latest.”
    Macy didn’t hold back, but screamed in unbridled
frustration.  Protocol demanded that the team set up fail safes to avoid this
kind of delay.  Her team had screwed up.  Her team.  Even if they had
found the code, when they regrouped in Paris, heads were going to roll.
    Beginning with hers.
    Dante approached her with caution, but her nerve endings
registered every inch of his progress with spikes in her body temperature.  Her
anger, frustration and fear collided with the lust she’d only barely contained
once she’d decided to turn the tables and seduce Dante before he succeeded in
seducing her.
    Now, if the impending disaster was truly thwarted—or if the team
was wrong and the world was still at risk of descending into chaos—didn’t she
want one last glorious memory to pull her through the darkness?
    A vivid, fresh, intense memory of Dante making love to her?
    When he cupped his hand gently on her shoulder, she harnessed
her fears, regrets, reservations and rage and launched herself against him. 
She captured his mouth with hers and locked her hands against his cheeks.  He
had no means of escape.
    And neither did she.
    He didn’t deny her.  They inhaled each other, tongues
mating, until neither of them could breathe.
    He swung them out of the parlor.  With half a coherent thought,
Macy figured he meant to take her upstairs.  To the master suite?  She didn’t
care where they made love, so long as the event happened in the next few
minutes.  Her flesh flamed and with one quick tug, she divested herself of her
zippered blouse and then tore at Dante’s shirt until the buttons pinged along the
hardwood floor.  Seconds later, her bra flew into the air, hooking onto the
banister.
    Macy locked her legs around Dante’s waist, pressing her sex
against his hard erection until a liquid agony filled her.  She pulled herself
high, gasping when his mouth locked around her nipple and suckled her to near
delirium.  They’d both wanted this for too long to deny their intrinsic lust
any longer.
    Shockingly, Dante stumbled beneath their combined weight on
about the third step.  With a laughing shout, they ended up splayed on the
stairs.  His pants disappeared first, then hers, along with shoes and boxers
and panties.  Dante turned, bracing his back against the stairs as Macy climbed
over his lap and guided his sex into hers.
    The slick sensation spawned renewed fire—white hot and
impossible to escape.  Macy braced her arms on his knees behind her, arching
her back so he could bathe her breasts in desperate kisses.  When she thought
she’d go insane from his plucking her nipples with his teeth, she returned the
favor, yanking his hair into her hands and tugging him close so that no space
existed between his lips and hers.
    The pace intensified.  He grabbed her hips and urged her to
take whatever bliss she needed—so she did.  His sex thickened inside her, and
his hands and lips took greedy license, touching and tasting until she was
caught up in a storm of sensations.  By the time she’d neared the edge of her
climax, Dante pushed her over fast with the guttural glory that was his
release.
    Moments passed.  Sanity returned.  When her chest stopped
heaving, Macy realized that more than anything in the world, she wanted to stay
right where she was, curled over Dante’s lap, connected to him physically,
breathing hard while he stroked her hair.  He whispered something into