Page 7 of The Spy
“That would make me boring.”
I didn't concede to that, but I knew exactly what she meant. Her constant need to question everything, to dig deeper, to needle, was part of why she always lingered in the periphery of my mind. You couldn't be lazy around Tabatha. You had to be on your toes, know your shit, have answers.
Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips, sending an electric wave through my veins that shot straight to my cock as my eyes followed hungrily. To keep from doing something that would be ill-advised, I spun her out. Except I wasn’t exactly watching for who might be behind her. Tabatha was fast on her feet, though, and instead of hitting two dancing couples, she only hit a waiter. Who then spilled champagne over my trousers.
Ice-cold champagne all over my lengthening cock.
What happened next could only be classified as going against the Geneva convention. It was certified torture.
Tabatha grabbed the waiter’s towel and went to town, vigorously rubbing at the wet spot on the front of my trousers.
Cock: Why hello, Miss Smith. I’m glad we’re finally getting acquainted.
My brain gave the command. I swear it did. Stand down soldier. We are not being called into action. Danger. Danger. Do not touch.
But the blood was already pulsing. Her hands slowed and her eyes went wide, her mouth fell open like she had every intention and capability of fitting all of me down her throat.
Fuck, if she kept her mouth open like that, I was going to give her something to do with it. “Tabatha—” My phone buzzed in my breast pocket, making me frown. Anyone important who needed to reach me was already in this room.
Even more alarming was the fact that Tabatha’s clutch rang.
Across the room, Rook reached into his breast pocket, as did Saint.
I didn't think Lock and Saff had their phones with them. But they did glance around and made a beeline for me. “What's going on?”
I glanced at my phone. “We're being called in for a mission. You two stay here.”
Both of them shook their heads, and Lachlan said, “Hell no! We aren't staying behind. If something's urgent we’re coming along. Besides, I had no plans. I was just going to go home and shag my wife. I can do that after the mission.”
Saff laughed. “Excuse me, but your missus may have a voice in this. We're going, and we can shag on the way.”
Every member of my team made vomiting noises.
My sister laughed. “You guys are so easy to rile up. We'll just wrap things up with the other guests and the catering staff. We don't head off for our little mini honeymoon for a couple of days anyway.”
Tabs patted me on the chest. "I guess we'll finish this dance later."
As she laid her hand on my chest, the box hidden in my tux jacket felt like a two tonne weight pressed against my dress shirt. I would not be giving her the gift tonight, even though tomorrow was her birthday. Before a mission just wasn't the right time.
The real question was, would it ever be?
3
Tabatha
Of course, work would ruin everything.
Nothing was sacred. Not even Saff’s bloody wedding reception. She hadn't even gotten to enjoy her cake. Although, admittedly, everyone had cake in front of them now. But it wasn't the same.
Sometimes this job really did take too much.
We'd all come straight from the reception to the briefing room. We were joined by one of the Oversight reps, Gennifer Goode. I’d never warmed to her. Not that I saw her often. But she always looked at Gabe like he was a steak.
Gennifer fucking Goode. God. The stab of jealousy that wormed its way around my heart couldn't be healthy.
Who named their kid Gennifer with a G?
I did my best to tamp down the feeling. Gabe wasn’t mine. Obviously. I didn’t even want him. But I hated the way she looked at him like a cat that had licked that cream.
