Page 63 of Point Blank

“C’mon. Don’t worry, I’ve got excellent balance.” She pulled her gloves out of her coat pocket and fit her hands into them. From here on out, they had to be careful about fingerprints.

He snorted. “You just stand on guys’ shoulders in your spare time?”

“Maybe,” she said with a lift of her shoulder. His scowl hinted that he didn’t like her answer one bit. She rolled her eyes. “I’ve done a lot of aerial yoga. This will be nothing.”

He scanned the stamped concrete at their feet as if expecting a staircase to appear.

“Milo, we don’t have all night.”

“If you fall and break your leg don’t expect me to lift Brock.” He caught her hips, and a squeak escaped her lips as he lifted her over his head and settled her crotch behind his neck. A wave of heat spread through her. God, he’d done that as if she weighed no more than a five-year-old.

She held his head in her hands and hooked the tops of her feet around his sides as he moved to stand close to the stacked stone wall directly below the balcony.

His hands tightened on her thighs. “You all right?”

She should so not be aroused at a time like this, but the solid ripple of his shoulders on the backs of her thighs sent her mind to the gutter. She coughed out an acknowledgment.

“Can you hold on to the wall and stand up?”

She let go of his head and closed her fingers around the stone that jutted out from the wall. Thank god it was the high-end individually laid stone and not the cheap slabs. She followed her gaze along the wall in front of her stone by stone until her focus landed on the balcony.

Shit.

Milo was right. It was a lot higher than she’d thought.

“What’s wrong?” Milo’s rugged voice rumbled between her legs. If she didn’t get moving, she’d climax on his shoulders. She wiggled her foot out from around his side and drew her knee up.

“Nothing. Don’t let me fall.” She planted her sneaker into his shoulder and he grunted. She froze.

“I’m fine,” he said, as his hand moved to her ankle. She repeated the same motion with her other foot, grasping the stones as she stood. Her body wavered and she closed her eyes.

Don’t fall, don’t fall . . . Dani needs you.

Milo’s firm grip on her calves anchored her. His thumbs worked in small circles, offering her whatever reassurance he could from the ground.

“Can you reach?” His whisper floated to her ears as she clung to the wall. Taking great care not to make herself dizzy, she inched back her neck to find the ledge of the balcony. It hovered two feet above her head.

“I think so.” She pried her left hand from the wall and stretched her fingers toward the concrete slab. They just brushed the bottom. She forced down the shriek of frustration bubbling in her throat.

“I’m about six inches from reaching the bars.”

Milo’s curse cut through the night.

Dani’s bloody and blackened face crashed through her mind. Risking a fall would be worth it.

“On the count of three, spring me straight up.”

“Spring you?” he hissed. His fingers flexed on her.

“One . . .”

“This is a bad?—”

She loosened the grip of her other hand, ready to launch it to the bars that surrounded the balcony.

“Two . . .”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”