April stopped breathing. Damon’s arms caged her, and he’d lowered his face to a few inches from hers. His eyes were a deep brown, and his gaze was direct. She totally didn’t know what to do. Her legs were spread, her knees on either side of his hips. Desire slammed into her, and she fought it. “I can’t believe you let a fight start back in the cafeteria,” she whispered. If all else fails, deflect.

“It had to happen at some point,” he said. “And I don’t care about them. They all know how to fight and defend themselves. It’s a good way to blow off some steam. You and I, apparently, have things to talk about.”

“Like what?” she snapped, lifting her chin. His warmth cascaded over her.

He just studied her with his intense gaze. Within a minute, she found herself squirming on the counter. Man, she wanted to be so tough and say the right and snappy thing. But her mind went blank.

Finally, he breathed in as if taking in her scent. “You ready to talk now?”

A part of her she didn’t much like wanted to nod and agree with him. “Nope. I’m all talked out.” Yeah. Not the snappiest response, but it wasn’t entirely obedient either. If he didn’t move back, she was going to run her hands over those very fine abs. What was wrong with her? “So time for you to leave. Nighty night, Damon.”

He smiled then, the sight a clear warning.

She blinked, bemused. So that’s what a deer felt like stuck in headlights. She felt small and trapped…but not afraid. Interesting. He’d never hurt her, and she was comfortable in that assessment. She was not happy with the way her body electrified at being so close to his. She had to get a grip. “Either talk or get out,” she said, testing the waters.

“You ever been really spanked?”

Her body stilled. Her mind fuzzed like a bunch of clouds covered it.

“April?” His voice rolled right over her like warm whiskey.

“N-no.” Her skin started to tingle. Everywhere.

His expression told her nothing. “I didn’t think so.”

Sure, she’d read all those sexy books way back when. But she’d never explored. “Is that a threat?”

“More like a promise.” He leaned in closer. “On the force, if somebody disobeyed me on a job, they got fired. In the Mercs, they get kicked out, which is as good as a death sentence. But on this mission, I can’t fire you or kick you out. So what recourse does that leave me?”

She stiffened, totally intrigued and not wanting to be. Her nerves jumped, and her sex softened. She had to hide her reaction. “This is inappropriate.”

“What is?” he asked softly.

“You, ah, threatening to spank me.” She tried to drum up more outrage and not stare at his too kissable lips.

He cocked his head ever so slightly. “I didn’t threaten you. Just asked you a question.”

She rolled her eyes, and her nipples tightened against her thin bra. “Give me a break, Damon.”

“Did I, or did I not, tell you to stay away from Pastor King and the Pure church until I recovered from the flu?” The authoritative tone of his voice was even more of a turn-on.

Her body was totally betraying her right now. “You did,” she muttered.

He nodded. “And did you, or did you not, go have a nice bottle of wine with the good pastor—alone—in his basement office?”

She fidgeted as much as his arms would allow. “You know I did.” She sounded like a petulant teenager, so she snapped her head back. “But I was doing my job, and you know it.”

“You were defying me, and you know it.” His voice was so soft it was almost deadly. “Right?”

She swallowed. That was all true. Admitting it seemed like a bad idea, however. There had to be a way out of this mess without giving him total control. Yeah, right. Like he didn’t have the upper hand the second he’d decided to take the mission. “I wanted to help those people.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “You also wanted to disobey my orders.”

All right, he might have a point. She did want to prove something to both of them. He was so insightful, it was scary. And another turn-on. “Maybe I did want to show that I could handle an actual mission,” she allowed.

His low chuckle warmed her face. “Ah, baby. You wanted to challenge me.”

She could only stare at him. Could he be any more arrogant? The sun started to go down outside, and the pinks and golds of the sunset splayed across the strong lines of his handsome face, not softening him in the slightest. “What are you talking about?” Her voice rose just enough to show that she knew exactly what he was saying.

His gaze bore into her. “You sure you want to play it that way?”

She didn’t want to play it any way. Nope. Not at all. She didn’t know how to do this, and if playing connoted a game, then she probably wasn’t winning. “Wh-why would I want to challenge you?” She rolled her eyes and blew out air as if saying “whatever.”

His knuckles caressed the side of her face, and she jumped. “To prove you could and see what I’d do?”

“You’re crazy.” Yep. Now that she was really thinking about it, that’s exactly why. Well, plus, she really did want to help the folks in Pure if they were in trouble. The jury was still out on that.

“I like this stubbornness of yours,” he said abruptly.

She sat up straighter. “You do?” Bubbles popped through her abdomen.

He nodded. “I do.”

“Nobody has ever said that to me,” she said, softly surprised.

“I have no doubt.” He leaned in closer, and one of his big hands tangled in her hair. The feeling of his strong fingers at her nape streaked heat down her body. He slowly twisted until he had a good grip, and she couldn’t move. “You don’t want to be stubborn on an op involving danger.”

Op? What op? Forget the damn op. Her breasts strained against her thin bra, wanting free. Wanting him. The night before, she’d had the warm mellowness of alcohol to lower her inhibitions. Tonight, it was all Damon. If his hands were on her, then turnabout was fair play. She palmed his twelve-pack.

His eyes darkened even more. “April. I’m trying to make a point here.”

She snorted. “You have me against the cupboards with my legs spread and your hand in my hair. Just what kind of point are you trying to make?” If he could call her on her baloney, she could do the same.

“That you’re in a precarious position and need to think clearly,” he ground out.

Thinking clearly had gone out the window the second he touched her. “All right. I get it.” She slid her hands down to get under his shirt. It was a travesty that he even wore one. “Danger…bad. Damon’s orders…good.” Now she sounded snappy and flippant. Yay, her.

“I thought you just wanted to be friends.” His tone dropped to guttural.

Yep, his abs were amazing. Ridges and hard lines and raw strength. “I don’t like you very much right now. Doubt we’re friends.” If she tried to take off his shirt, would he help?

His hold tightened, and he twisted his fingers in her hair until she had no choice but to lift her head and meet his gaze. “What. Are. You. Doing?”

Tingles exploded along her scalp. The shiver that took her had nothing to do with fear. Man, he was hot. “I’m tired of talking.” She shoved his shirt up to see those glorious muscles. Humming, she planted her hands on his tight abdomen. Her skin looked so pale compared to his. There was such a contrast between not only the color but also the feeling of their skin. Hers was soft in comparison.

There was nothing soft about Damon Winter.

“You’re sending very mixed messages,” he murmured.

“Don’t care.” She really didn’t. Not right now. Tomorrow, she’d worry about it. Right now, she was turned on and not hating life. And she was tired of talking about ops, missions, and the Pure. It felt good to feel. Sometimes, things were that simple. “So. I was thinking fast and hard.” She met his gaze evenly. “You?”

* * *

The lust raging through Damon’s body exploded, going wide and hot. The woman was going to kill him. He was trying to give her a gentle lesson, and she’d turned the whole thing around on him.

The feeling of her soft hands against his skin was driving him mad, and he was quickly losing the fight to go the friend route. “Hard and fast?” he repeated, his blood heating.

She nodded and pulled up his shirt. “Yeah.”

He had to duck or get strangled. She yanked off the material and tossed it onto the floor. Her smile was cat-like as she started exploring his chest. “If you’re fucking with me, I really am going to spank you.” His voice came out hoarse.

“I’d rather you just fuck me.” She reached for his belt.

His dick shoved hard against his zipper. “Wait a minute.” He jerked her head back hard enough that her eyes widened and her hands stilled. “You’re not playing this game. Have sex, regret it, say it’s over. I’m not doing that cycle. We’re either friends, lovers, or co-workers on an op. That’s it.”

Her blue eyes softened. “You’re right.”

Damn it. He hated being right. He could’ve just taken what she offered and dealt with the fallout later. But, no. He had to get things straight. What the hell was wrong with him? “I know,” he sighed.

Her teeth played with her bottom lip. “When I first heard you were sick yesterday, I thought you’d been infected by Scorpius.”

He blinked. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“I was sad.” Her voice cracked. “That you were here and gone. It hit me then that this is all we have. Right now, and right here.” Her honesty was flaying him open. “I don’t want to play games or get stars in my eyes or anything. But I choose all three options.”

The blood rushed rapidly between his ears. “Three options?”

“Friends, lovers, and co-workers.” She started releasing his belt. “I’m not asking for true love or any promises of tomorrow—because tomorrow is an illusion these days. Let’s find pleasure where we can.”

He swallowed, looking for the trap. Her guileless gaze met his. No trap. There wasn’t one with this woman. “Are you sure?” He had to ask.

She nodded. “I am. But while you’re sleeping with me, you’re not sleeping with anybody else.”

No shit. “Agreed.” There wasn’t another woman he wanted like this one. Not even close. He leaned in and took her lips. Those full, generous, smartass lips. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, the taste of her driving him wild.

Lust and need and something else, something deeper he wouldn’t explore, filled him. His cock stretched even more against his jeans, wanting inside her.

Now.

She moaned under his mouth and scraped her nails along his chest.

The small bite snapped the chains of his control.

He kissed her harder, the way he wanted to fuck her. Completely and until neither of them could breathe.

They’d just crossed a line, and he knew it. A point of no return. They’d talked about it and made the decision clearly and concisely.

He moved closer to her, using his free hand to pull her forward against him. Her dress moved up her thighs, and he pushed his aching cock against the apex of her legs. Even through his jeans and her panties, he could feel her heat.

Her thighs trembled on either side of his hips.

A knock on the door had him releasing her instantly and jumping around, shielding her. His heart pounded, and his lungs seized.

“Damon?” Atticus yelled. “You’re needed at a Vanguard-Merc meeting right now.”

God. His dick was going to explode. Damon shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Is it crucial?” he growled. The soft sound of April’s panting breath behind him was like a beacon in a storm.

“Yes. Right now. Greyson has called everyone in.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Damon closed his eyes and tried to regain control. Any control. “Merc headquarters or Vanguard headquarters?” His voice sounded like he’d been eating glass and shrapnel all night.

“Neither. The training building. All soldiers are supposed to report in.” Atticus’s voice grew fainter. “Five minutes.” Then he was gone.

Damon turned slowly.

April remained on the counter, her dress pushed up, desire in her eyes.

He groaned.

Her smile was way too sassy. “Told you not to start a fight between the soldiers.”

He exhaled to calm his breathing, meeting her gaze directly. “We’re not done with this. I’ll be back right after the meeting.” Yeah, that sounded more like a threat than a promise.

So be it.