The Auction Block (Agents of Interpol 1)

Page 122

He kisses the tear from my cheek, moving his lips down to my neck as more moisture flows from my eyes. He moves across my collarbones to my shoulder and up the opposite side of my neck. Gently, he nips my earlobe.
"Your real name doesn't matter to me. All that matters is that you're mine," he whispers in my ear, causing more tears to fall.
I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze my body to his. This is why I love him, why I need him. He wants to know about my past but nothing sways him, or makes him think of me differently. He continues to kiss my neck until my tears stop and I ease my vice like grip.
His eyes shine with need as he stares down at me. "Is Lily the name you want to go by?"
"Then Lily, my Lily, I love you. Nothing about your past, your life, or your thoughts, is going to make me love you any less," he says in a husky, yet stern voice.
I smirk, running my fingers over his lips.
"I love you, Blake Mason, and for what it's worth, you're nothing like your father."
His eyes widen, shock littering his face. This is what he's worried about— it's a revelation. Those first few days with him and all the things he's done since then . . . His father is the reason he got mad about me paying for breakfast and why he wants nothing more than to take care of me. In Blake's mind, that is what men do for the women they love, and despite all my fuckedupness, he loves me.
"I'd like to make love to you now," he whispers, leaning down, gently running his nose along my jaw. His hands slide down my body and he hitches my left leg up, grinding his growing erection into me. I moan, and am lost.
I tap my thumb nervously against the granite counter of the kitchen island waiting for Miranda to arrive. I don't trust myself not to be a complete bitch toward this woman. Since coming back to the apartment, I've been fuming about tonight. I keep reminding myself she's Blake's friend, this was my idea, and I'm not allowed to be a total cunt.
The return to the apartment went smoothly at least, and the team is more than satisfied with the additional agents and new security measures. We know the Taurus is watching, and more attempts will happen now that Blake is back in the public eye. I'm praying we can anticipate them, and handle the situations before they get out of hand again.
My head jerks up as the foyer doors open. Jameson stands to the side allowing Miranda to enter the room. She sashays in with a halo of blond hair and deep green eyes. Her dress barely covers her ass, a shimmery silver fabric, and she walks toward me with more confidence than most men do.
I'm going to stab this slut.
My blood boils as she moves in my direction, giving me a gleaming megawatt smile.
"Hi, Lily," she says, sneering.
"Evening, Miranda," I say shortly.
"I bet this entire evening just burns your ass, doesn't it?"
I grit my teeth together. "For Blake's sake, I'm holding my tongue. Don't push your luck."
Footsteps echo down the hall. Blake enters the room looking delicious in a black tux. My insides burn and my throat tightens. I'm going to have to watch this stupid bitch put moves on him all night, and there isn't a fucking thing I can say because this was my idea and it will blow my cover.
He stops next to me, his eyes scanning my face. "Good evening, Agent Williams." His voice is amused and seductive. I tangle my fingers together to keep from reaching out to touch him.
"Good Evening, Mr. Mason. Are you and your date ready to go?"
"Yes," he says, sadness pooling in his eyes.
Miranda's face darkens as she watches us, using her index finger to wipe the corner of her mouth.
I lift my silver watch to my mouth. "Time to move," I say walking to the other side of the entrance. I breathe deep, willing myself to relax. At this rate, it’s going to be a long night.
The team joins us in the foyer, assembling a blockade around Blake and Miranda, who are chatting. About what, I don't know. I refuse to listen in on the conversation knowing it’ll only make my night worse.
Dresden, Vlad, and I accompany Blake and Miranda to the ground floor and wait until the rest of the team joins us. Outside we stop by the middle car and I open the back passenger-side door. Miranda climbs in, but Blake stops, his hand on the doorframe as he gazes down at me.
r /> "Are you riding in the front?" he says, struggling to keep the longing from his voice.