socks from the drawers, and turned to add them to the suitcase. He stopped, heart thudding against his rib cage, cock screaming in agony.
FBI Agent Mallory Stone—his best friend's sister, sometimes partner, and wannabe lover—leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of his bedroom. She crossed her arms beneath her perfect breasts, causing her blouse to lift from the waistband of her pants, exposing a tantalizing view of tightly toned bronze abs.
Jackson's mouth watered. He swallowed and completed the turn, moving to the bed and wishing for all his worth that he kept his clothes in the parking garage or the laundry room. Even the kitchen would have been a better alternative to his bedroom, where the need to invite Mallory in further nearly knocked him on his ass.
"Did you hear me?"
He glanced at her. "I heard you." How could he not? The woman's voice dripped sex even when she made stubborn demands she knew he couldn't comply with. Not that he would take her along if he could. He didn't want her anywhere near the shitstorm about to go down in Silver Springs.
"You just prefer to ignore me." Her expression steely, Mallory pushed away from the doorframe and took a full two steps into the room.
Panic made Jackson sweat. He tossed the clothes into the suitcase, strode to the closet for a couple of dress shirts, and put the much needed distance between himself and her sex-kitten body again. How in hell could a man ignore a woman like her? She dressed conservatively these days. His cock continued to be immensely grateful on and off the job. Gone were the miniskirts, leather corsets, and devil heels. She took to wearing slacks and business suits at the office. Her days off, like today, she tended to wear worn jeans, cotton tanks, and tennis shoes. Conservative, casual, thrifty, and still sexy as hell.
"Cooper wants you here." Adam Cooper, their boss, a man who prided himself on being a stickler for perfection and details, missed nothing when it came to the job or the members of his team. His extensive observatory skills had uncovered Mallory's powerful effect on Jackson's senses, the way her mere presence could cloud his better judgment.
Jackson neatly folded the shirt he held and cautiously moved back to the suitcase, placing the shirt on top. Mallory stood at the foot of the bed. As long as he kept to the side, he could count on the security of space to keep him in line, to keep him sane.
"You're in the middle of an assignment."
"An assignment any rookie could do." Her pink, glossy lips curved in the closest thing to a pout he had seen on her heart-shaped face since the age of nineteen. She taunted him with the gleam of passion-filled promises in her sea blue eyes as badly then as she did now. Promises that would last only a night, because no matter how badly he wished differently, she wouldn't allow herself a minute more. "Cooper is treating me like a child. He's been coddling my ass ever since the case at the club went south."
Jackson didn't want to think about that case any more than he needed to envision her ass right now. The fact that she plopped down on said ass on the foot of his bed, folding a leg beneath her as she turned to face him, didn't help his already stiffening erection or scrambling thoughts.
"He knows I'm the best agent on the team to handle the club scenes."
"And he would send you in on this one in a heartbeat if he could."
"If I was a man, you mean." She puffed a breath that sent her autumn-leaf-colored bangs fluttering over her forehead creased by frustrated wrinkles.
Jackson closed the lid to the suitcase, zipped it shut. "The DEA has the sting already in place."
"And the female agent to execute it." Mallory pinned him with a glare that gleamed of unhappiness and a whole lot more. The "more" brought him within inches of climbing onto the bed with her. He felt drawn to her, crazed around her. He flat-out loved her. That raw emotion he knew he had been unable to fully hide when she came up
FBI Agent Mallory Stone—his best friend's sister, sometimes partner, and wannabe lover—leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of his bedroom. She crossed her arms beneath her perfect breasts, causing her blouse to lift from the waistband of her pants, exposing a tantalizing view of tightly toned bronze abs.
Jackson's mouth watered. He swallowed and completed the turn, moving to the bed and wishing for all his worth that he kept his clothes in the parking garage or the laundry room. Even the kitchen would have been a better alternative to his bedroom, where the need to invite Mallory in further nearly knocked him on his ass.
"Did you hear me?"
He glanced at her. "I heard you." How could he not? The woman's voice dripped sex even when she made stubborn demands she knew he couldn't comply with. Not that he would take her along if he could. He didn't want her anywhere near the shitstorm about to go down in Silver Springs.
"You just prefer to ignore me." Her expression steely, Mallory pushed away from the doorframe and took a full two steps into the room.
Panic made Jackson sweat. He tossed the clothes into the suitcase, strode to the closet for a couple of dress shirts, and put the much needed distance between himself and her sex-kitten body again. How in hell could a man ignore a woman like her? She dressed conservatively these days. His cock continued to be immensely grateful on and off the job. Gone were the miniskirts, leather corsets, and devil heels. She took to wearing slacks and business suits at the office. Her days off, like today, she tended to wear worn jeans, cotton tanks, and tennis shoes. Conservative, casual, thrifty, and still sexy as hell.
"Cooper wants you here." Adam Cooper, their boss, a man who prided himself on being a stickler for perfection and details, missed nothing when it came to the job or the members of his team. His extensive observatory skills had uncovered Mallory's powerful effect on Jackson's senses, the way her mere presence could cloud his better judgment.
Jackson neatly folded the shirt he held and cautiously moved back to the suitcase, placing the shirt on top. Mallory stood at the foot of the bed. As long as he kept to the side, he could count on the security of space to keep him in line, to keep him sane.
"You're in the middle of an assignment."
"An assignment any rookie could do." Her pink, glossy lips curved in the closest thing to a pout he had seen on her heart-shaped face since the age of nineteen. She taunted him with the gleam of passion-filled promises in her sea blue eyes as badly then as she did now. Promises that would last only a night, because no matter how badly he wished differently, she wouldn't allow herself a minute more. "Cooper is treating me like a child. He's been coddling my ass ever since the case at the club went south."
Jackson didn't want to think about that case any more than he needed to envision her ass right now. The fact that she plopped down on said ass on the foot of his bed, folding a leg beneath her as she turned to face him, didn't help his already stiffening erection or scrambling thoughts.
"He knows I'm the best agent on the team to handle the club scenes."
"And he would send you in on this one in a heartbeat if he could."
"If I was a man, you mean." She puffed a breath that sent her autumn-leaf-colored bangs fluttering over her forehead creased by frustrated wrinkles.
Jackson closed the lid to the suitcase, zipped it shut. "The DEA has the sting already in place."
"And the female agent to execute it." Mallory pinned him with a glare that gleamed of unhappiness and a whole lot more. The "more" brought him within inches of climbing onto the bed with her. He felt drawn to her, crazed around her. He flat-out loved her. That raw emotion he knew he had been unable to fully hide when she came up
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