Chapter Three
Devlin’s eyes swept the place as they walked into the bar. “This building has some serious history. Did you know it was formerly a church?”
He pointed to the small spiritual touches saved for aesthetics in the décor. “The upstairs bar used to be the choir loft. Designers worked the original steeple into one of the main attractions.”
“Impressive. Are you a regular here?” Jessica asked, sliding into a chair at an intimate little table.
He shrugged. “Now and then. They make the best martinis in Washington,” he quoted, tapping the shiny blurb on the back of the drink menu.
Jessica took the laminated card and looked at the pictures of the fancy drinks. “It also says the restaurant closes at ten p.m.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m starving, so we’d better order before we’re out of luck.”
Devlin slid the menu from her fingers, letting his linger on hers a little longer than necessary. She swallowed, knowing color stained her cheeks, so when he lifted her hand to his mouth and turned her palm upward, she silently squealed as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.
“I know you, Jessica,” he said, looking up from her wrist. “I know I sound like some creepy stalker, but I do…I know you.”
The feel of his mouth on her skin, subtle and warm, and watching the sexy way he whispered against her skin made the butterflies in her stomach dive straight for her sex.
Her pulse increased with each passing moment since he rang her doorbell earlier, and she knew she was throwing off fuck-me signals in rapid fire succession.
Devlin Law wasn’t a pencil-pushing desk jockey like most of the men she knew. He was worldly, dangerous, and she knew he sensed the effect he had on her as well.
He lifted his head and placed her hand on the table, his eyes locked with hers. They were dark, and her mouth went dry with the intensity of his gaze. He was as turned on as she.
“You don’t know me, Devlin.”
She slipped her hand from his and crossed her arms on the table, leaning in a bit so he could have a better view. In that moment, she was glad she wore a low-cut, bare-shouldered jumper, or sweater as they say in America, with a straight skirt and knee-high boots.
He looked amazing as always. Black jeans and a black V-neck sweater highlighted his hard-muscled body, and a charcoal sport coat added the nod to his trademark style. She licked her lips. The man looked as if he walked off the cover of GQ magazine. So what was he doing here with her?
“You only think you know me because you’ve seen me around the grounds.” She shrugged. “Like I’ve seen you around, too.”
He nodded. “Yes, but in my work, a single glance tells me volumes about a person. Body language is truly that…a language, and just as you’re fluent in Russian, I’m fluent in what the body has to say.”
“Really,” she leaned even closer knowing full well she played with fire. “And what does my body tell you?” she asked, ignoring the possibilities that made her panties damp.
“You’re intrigued about me, but you’re also cautious, just as you were in the chief’s office this afternoon.” He paused. “Lauder has all the communiques for the drop. I think you should look at them before we head into Kyiv, especially since the chief thinks we’re talking strategy and analysis tonight.”
Wait, what just happened? Who the fuck cares about communiques?
“You’re our specialist,” Devlin continued. “If you know enough data about your opponent, you can use that information to your advantage. Fact, strategy, and probability. That’s your domain, and regardless of Meade’s bias against the fairer sex, you rule in that arena, Jessica. The chief’s right. There’s no one better for this job.”
Still scrambled from his mixed signals, her eyes searched his, but she wasn’t convinced. “If I’m so right for this job, then why did Lauder tell you to give me the full court press about communiques? Am I suddenly your opponent? Is it your strategy to throw me off balance by dangling sex?”
“You really are as beautiful as you are intelligent,” he said with an appreciative grin. “How do you know I didn’t volunteer to meet you just for the chance to see what else your body tells me?” Law replied.
“So, what does my body language say? What do you recommend we do to better understand each other?”
Devlin’s lips slid into a sideways smirk. “Do you really want to know?”
“Sure, I’ll bite.”
His smirk spread to a full-on grin. “I bet you do. How about we have a drink and then see?”
“The ball’s in your court, Devlin.” She met his grin with a skeptical half-smile. “So, again. What do you recommend?”
“How about a dirty martini? It’s salty and bites the tongue before going down easy.” He let the last part of his description trail off, but his innuendo wasn’t lost.
Heat crawled up Jessica’s cheeks and her breasts ached. The man was as rough and dangerous in seduction as he was everywhere else.
He slipped her hand into his again. “There’s nothing sexier than a confident woman who can still blush.” He kissed her knuckles and then whispered, “I’ll be right back,” before sliding his seat from the table. He got up and walked toward the bar.
Her eyes watched his strong, sinuous stride and she exhaled the breath locked in her throat. “Bloody hell,” she mumbled. “If the man so much as touches me once, I’ll come right here, right now.”
She smoothed the front of her sweater and then opened her purse and took out her compact to check her makeup, snapping it closed the minute he walked back to the table.
“That’s quite a telling smile. Care to share?” Devlin asked, carrying two martini glasses filled with a cloudy liquid and a toothpick each with three olives.
“No, just checking to see if we got the call,” Jessica said, stuffing her purse behind her on the chair.
He winked. “Chances of that happening tonight are slim, so I’m betting tonight is ours to do with as we please. Strategy aimed at multiple fronts.”
Again, with the innuendo. Months of pent-up fantasies about this guy were flying fast and furious. If there was ever a now-or-never moment, it was now.
If she didn’t straddle this guy tonight, she’d need fresh batteries for her battery-operated boyfriend, pronto! Her head spun, inner arguments ping-ponging back and forth.
Devlin handed her one of the stemmed glasses, then took his chair again. “To fact, strategy, and probabilities.” He held up his glass, his eyes never leaving hers.
Jessica’s cheeks flamed as if he heard the volley of thoughts in her head, but she smiled and touched the edge of her glass with his. “Definitely.”
“How long have you been with the agency?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“Ten years. Feels longer, though.”
She nodded. “I bet. Sounds like your line of work would wear on anyone. Why do you do it, then?”
He frowned. “Habit.”
“Ouch. Sounds lonely.”
He laughed. “Can be. That’s why it’s better not to have attachments. I’ve seen some pretty nasty things, which would make me hard to live with, but I’m lucky, I guess. I’ve learned to separate the work from the rest of my life. What about you?”
“I’m pretty happy with what I do. I love the work and I love being in the States, but eventually I know I’ll have to go home.” She paused. “Funny, really. The word doesn’t fit anymore.”
He cocked his head, curious. “What word?”
“Home.” She gave him a close-lipped smile. “It used to mean London, but now?” She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “It’s just a place I used to live.”
“So, you like digging into facts and weighing probabilities. You sure you’re not just nosy,” he teased, folding his napkin.
Jessica choked a little. “I am not nosy. I just like puzzles. I like stacking odds, using the laws of probability to factor win/loss. It a kind of gamble, so if I didn’t work for the CIA, I’d probably work for a casino in Vegas.”
“Now that I’d like to see,” he winked.
She crumpled her napkin and threw it at him. “Itty Bitty costumes are not part of the plan, Mr. Law. It’s the odds I like. Moves and counter moves, like playing chess. They fascinate me. My initial training in the U.K. included martial arts. I loved the strategy behind the discipline. Especially with Bunkai.”
“Bunkai?” He raised an eyebrow.
Jessica nodded. “The literal translation from Japanese means disassembly. It refers to the process of analyzing and extracting fighting techniques from the movements of a form or kata. The extracted fighting techniques are called Oyo.
“Plus, the discipline had cool weapons to play with.” She smirked. “My favorites were chucks and throwing stars. I got pretty good at them too, once upon a time.”
His eyes twinkled. “That’s some skill set to have on your resume. Makes me wonder what other talents you’re hiding beneath that understated exterior.”
The man’s subtle flirting rocked her calm with every passing minute. If he wasn’t serious, she’d show him how impressive her skills could be.
She took another sip and placed her drink on the napkin in front of her, and glanced around the bar. “It looks like they’re having a slow night.”
“I picked this place because I knew we’d be able to talk, but if you’d rather do something else, we can finish our drinks and take it from there.”
“Take it where?”
He looked at her with eyes full of need. “Wherever you want it.”
Calling his bluff, Jessica picked up her glass and drained it in one gulp, wincing as the gin scored her throat. “It’s now or never, love,” she said, surprised at the rough sound of her own voice.
Devlin scraped his chair against the floor, causing other patrons to look their way.
“Let’s go,” Jessica said softly, her fingers reaching for Devlin’s arm.
With his arm around her waist, the two walked out of the bar and Devlin fished his keys from his pocket, unlocking his Jeep parked in front.
Neither said a word as he drove, and before long she realized they were headed back to her apartment.
She blew her hair from her forehead. She’d overplayed her hand trying to be something she wasn’t. Either that or he was never really interested.
Devlin pulled into the parking lot and got out from the driver’s side, waiting for her by the front end of the car.
“You don’t need to walk me upstairs, Devlin. I had one drink. I’m perfectly capable of getting to my flat in one piece.” Disappointed annoyance was clear in her voice.
Law took her by the hand and tugged her along, the tap-tap of her boots on the concrete walk behind him. Without a word, he pushed the lobby doors open and then towed her toward the elevators.
Pressing the up button, he turned as Jessica opened her mouth to argue again and pulled her against his chest. Steel-like arms locked around her waist and he pressed the hard length of his body to hers.
His mouth hovered just above hers, their lips barely touching. “I’ve wanted to taste your mouth since the day I watched that pretty tongue of yours lick cream from your bottom lip.”
“Devlin—”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. He walked her backwards into the empty car, not missing a beat, the flat of his palm against her back so she felt every hard-muscled inch of him as they moved.
Not wanting to lose the moment, she wound her arms around Devlin’s neck and pressed herself against him as well. “Where do we go from here?”
“Where do you think?” he replied with a seductive smirk.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she slid her hands around to rest on his shoulders. The man’s eyes darkened as Jessica fumbled with his tie and the buttons on his shirt, slipping her palms to the flat planes of his hard chest.
The doors closed all the way and he lifted her against the elevator’s chrome sidewall. He crushed his mouth to hers, as she groped to press the button for her floor.
He slipped his hands inside her plunging neckline and cupped her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple beneath her lace bra.
Vertigo hit, and she wasn’t sure if it was the elevator or the feel of his kiss, but suddenly the world seemed to spin and move in slow motion at the same time.
Devlin lowered her to her feet, letting her feel every inch of his hardness the whole way down.
Her sweater bunched over her breasts as his hands roamed her soft curves through her lace bra, and she moaned knowing her thin skirt was the only thing separating her from the bulge at the front of his suit pants.
Hooking her fingers into the back of his waistband, she slid her hands beneath the stylish fabric and cupped his ass. “You’re commando,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“Me, too,” she murmured, pulling his hips close and lifting one leg so he could grind his hips against her sensitive bits.
Groping for her hem, his hands fisted the silky material of her skirt and hiked it over her thighs. He lifted it high enough to work his fingers around to the smooth skin of her shaved mound.
He grinned, caressing her silky slit. “Smooth as a baby’s ass and wet…so fucking wet.”
Jessica slid a hand around from the back of his pants and fumbled with the top button of his pants. She unzipped his fly, her breath catching at the feel of the thick corded mass bulging there, waiting to be released.
Freeing his cock, he lifted her against the chrome wall again, only this time when she wrapped her leg around his back, he drove his hard length into her soft, wet folds with one stroke.
Jessica moaned, digging her fingers into his shoulder as he thrust deeply. The elevator car shook, rattling to an abrupt stop, alarms bells ringing.
“Are you okay?” a voice crackled over the intercom only to pause. “Holy shit! What are you doing? This is a public elevator! Get a room before I call the cops!”
Devlin swore low in his throat before turning them so the only thing the camera could see was the wide expanse of his back. With a rough grunt, he thrust harder and harder until Jessica cried out in release. Her climax sent him over the edge and he plunged deep, his balls high and tight as he exploded inside her.
Jessica slumped against the inside of his shoulder, hiding her face. “We should probably move this party to my apartment,” she said, her breath jagged.
“You think?” With a laugh, Devlin slid Jessica down again, only now he helped her wiggle her skirt back into place. Still hiding her face, she helped him straighten the front of his pants before he pressed the up button.
The elevator doors opened onto her floor and he stepped aside, letting Jessica out first.
They walked side by side, neither saying a word, Jessica’s cheeks burning from the squishy, wet feel between her legs. She needed a quick wash before Devlin got anywhere near her nether regions again.
Digging for her keys, her hand shook as she unlocked her apartment door. She pushed the door open and snapped on the living room light. “Uhm,” she said, turning. “I’ll be right back.”
She dropped her keys, purse and jacket on a chair and then headed straight for the bathroom. Leaving the door ajar, she turned on the hot water tap and then leaned on the vanity.
“What the hell are you doing?” she chastised herself, “You don’t have hot, nasty monkey sex in public places.”
“You sure?” Devlin’s deep voice asked behind her. He slid his arms around her waist and kissed the damp nape of her neck. “As far as hot, nasty monkey sex goes, we’re a nine point eight out of ten. The Russian judge got wind of what we’re planning in Kyiv, so his nose is out of joint. Otherwise, it would have been a perfect score.”
She looked at him in the mirror. “We just broke about a hundred non-fraternization protocol rules.”
“You’re the lawyer, so I’ll have to take your word for it.” He grinned, letting one mischievous hand reach for the hem of her skirt again. “Honestly, the only thing we broke tonight was your elevator.” The silky fabric glided in a slow, sexy tease over her thighs toward her ass. “Care to try our luck at breaking a bathroom vanity, too?”
She gasped, but before she could reply, his cell phone rang.
It was time.
Operation Pony Express was in motion.