A.J. forced his gaze away from Ana to let Harper in on exactly “what he was thinking”—well, he’d planned to, but then he took a breath and pulled his shit together. “And Ivan is the freaking boogeyman of hitmen, so . . .”
“So, it’ll be nice to take him down, right?” Harper flashed an innocent smile. The one she used when she wanted to wrap the guys around her little finger—her dark brows lifted, a casual curve to her lips. It worked every time, especially on Roman.
A.J. quickly shifted his attention to Ana when he felt her soft touch on his arm. The plea in her eyes just about did him in. Both strong-minded women were weaponizing their skills on him at the same time.
And he was screwed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A.J. set Ana on the kitchen counter and wrapped her legs tight around his waist, then slung her arms over his shoulders. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed in her delectable scent mixed with a hint of Patty’s coconut soap. “You just might be the death of me, woman.”
Ana traced her finger down the center of his chest as he leaned back to catch her eyes. “Now, whatever are you talking about?” she asked, teasing her words into a thick Southern belle accent that had him chuckling.
“Let’s see.” A.J. gave her what he hoped was a stern look, but it only served to make her giggle. “For starters, when you bent over to pick up your fork off the floor this morning, you popped that ass of yours up like you were practicing for a pole dancing competition. Doing your best to turn me on, no doubt.”
“Yeah, I can see it now. Anastasia, the erotic dancer, coming soon to a gentleman’s club near you,” she said, and he slipped his hands to her hips, gently squeezing his fingers into her sides. “If you’re lucky, I might even show you some moves.” He let out a soft groan and closed his eyes, holding her tighter as her words played out like a movie in his head, and it sure as hell wasn’t PG-13.
And if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she’d gotten into Grant’s bourbon or homemade moonshine at some point between their call and now.
“How else have I been teasing you?” she prompted, her eyes lit up like a woman without a care in the world. Or a past that she’d spent fifteen years working to keep buried.
“Well, there was that little stunt you pulled inside the helicopter. I mean, you straddled me in the cockpit and swiveled your hips, making me hard as a rock before hopping off and leaving me high and dry.”
“Is that what happened?” Oh, the woman was good. Toying with him like there was no tomorrow, and hell, in his world, when tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, he was all for living life to the fullest.
“Yes, ma’am, you did. And then you grabbed my cowboy hat right off my head, which was downright mean. I had to chase after you until you tripped me, you little sneak. Although, it was fun taking you down with me, rolling around in the grass. I got stains all over my T-shirt, and I didn’t even get a kiss—”
Ana sealed her mouth to his, cutting him off. A tender touch at first before her tongue slid along the seam of his lips and pushed into his mouth.
About damn time. At the end of their sweet and sensual kiss, it suddenly dawned on him—this brilliant woman was a master in tradecraft, and she’d . . . “You’ve been distracting me all morning, haven’t you?” he finished his thoughts aloud as she unhooked her legs from his waist.
She placed her palms on the counter at her sides and parted her legs ever so slightly, drawing his eyes to the only Southern place he was in the mood to be right now. Back between her smooth, toned thighs.
When his focus returned to her face, she shot him a huge grin that said she was proud of herself. Maybe she’d been purposefully distracting him to keep him from worrying or changing his mind about their next move. He was definitely not on board with offering her up as bait at the safe house in the woods. Between everything she’d shared over the last few days and the theories they’d been discussing, the woman deserved a break.
With Luke and Knox on their way to the Maldives, Chris and Finn scoping out the cabin in Georgia, and Jessica and Harper working their intel magic—there wasn’t much else Ana and A.J. could do aside from spin more theories that’d make the both of them dizzier than sitting in one of those cheap county fair amusement rides.
“More like being a tease. And I’m adding that to my list,” she announced with a confident nod.
“Which of your lists?” His hands went to the counter on either side of hers, but he eased back to look into her forest green eyes.
“The mental list I keep of all the things I’ve never done until I met you.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth. “That’s one list I like.” He captured her bottom lip between his teeth and gently pulled, preparing to ravish her in the name of letting her “distract” them both. “Tease all right.”
She secured a fistful of his shirt and feathered her mouth over his, her tongue skirting his lips before disappearing back inside her mouth.
Tease or not, kissing like they were horny teenagers was more than enough for him. That erotic sweep of her tongue in his mouth helped him focus on all that mattered right now. Her.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised you own this little jean skirt. Seems a bit rebellious for you.” His hand skated up her thigh, and she parted her legs and lifted her chin a fraction. The sultry look in her eyes daring him to slide his palm higher.
“UC assignment eight months ago. I had to blend in,” she admitted. “I thought it might come in handy down in the hot South with you. I was right.”
“It’s certainly handy.” He coaxed her thighs farther apart as his fingers drifted up under her skirt.
He positioned his free hand at the hem of her white ribbed tank and pushed it up, shoving her bra up along with it, then cupped her breast. “Perfect.”
She moaned when he gently twisted her nipple, while his other hand teased her inner thigh using small, sweeping circles with his thumb.
“I know we’re taking things slowly, but you have needs, too,” she whispered seductively. “We can stop the teasing and advance to the action.”
“You don’t need to worry about my needs,” he drawled, even though “action” with her sounded significantly better than his hand on his own dick like the last two times. “I might be patient, but I also hate the color blue when it comes to my balls.”
“Ah, I see. When life gives you lemons . . .” She was a quick learner, giving him the same cocky-as-hell smile he’d no doubt tossed her way over the last few days in spite of everything going on.
He brought his mouth to hers while sliding his palm up to her panties beneath the skirt.
“Who the . . . Alexander James, is that you?”
A.J.’s shoulders jerked, and he instantly retracted his hand from beneath Ana’s skirt. The booming voice with a Southern accent belonged to his mom.
Shiiit. He and his brothers must have taught stealth and tactical skills to their mom a bit too well if she got the drop on A.J. and a Federal agent.
A.J. swiped his thumb over his lips, still swollen from all the hot kissing, and faced his mom, not expecting to see her with a shotgun in hand. “Can you lower the gun, Mama?”