Page 65 of Broken
Once the doors slide open, she leads me through an open-concept office area. It’s a vast space of desks, most manned by people working on computers or talking on the phone.
“This isn’t like the movies,” I say.
She glances over her shoulder at me with a smile. “You expected a shootout?”
“Isn’t Arizona where the O.K. Corral was?”
She laughs as she swipes her badge to unlock a door, then holds it open for me. It’s my job to do that for my woman, but I’ll let it slide here at her place of work.
“It is, but a few hours away by car. Want to play tourist?”
“Too fucking hot,” I reply. The building is blissfully cold. Thank fuck.
“I do miss Montana weather,” she replies. “Summers are incredible there.”
“Then come back with me.”
That isn’t what I came to talk about, but it’s the truth.
Her eyes widen. “You… You want me to move to Montana?”
I step close, but she retreats. I don’t stop until she’s against the wall behind the door. The room is clearly used for meetings with a table and chairs for six. There are no windows, only bland white walls and overhead fluorescent lighting.
“I want you on the ranch. In my bed. Permanently.”
She glances away.
I tip her chin up with my fingers. “Too strong?”
She shakes her head. Licks her lips. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
I nod, lean in and nuzzle her neck with my nose. Fuck, she smells good. “There’s probably a lot we need to talk about. Including why I came all the way here.”
She angles her head and clenches the front of my shirt.
“Yes,” she breathes.
I cup her breast through her blouse. “Are there cameras in this room?”
She shakes her head, clouding my face with her silky hair. “No.”
“Lock the door, kitten.”
I pull back enough so she can reach out and flick the lock on the knob. I love that this big, in-charge federal agent obeys me.
“Good girl.” I sink back into her, kissing her the way I couldn’t in the lobby. “Think you can be quiet?”
We’re breathing hard, and I roll my dick into her stomach.
She nods and tugs at my shirt, this time working it from my pants.
I didn’t come here to fuck. Hell, I never expected—ever—to get it on in an FBI building. But when have I ever resisted Avery?
Never.
I trace my fingers along her thigh to the hem of her skirt and work it up. By the time I get it around her waist, she’s got my jeans open and her hand wrapped around my dick.
“Fuck, Avery.”
