thrown the thing in the first place...and why.
Damn you, Xander.
The thing about knocking boots with someone you aren’t supposed to see naked—say, your boss—the sex was damn electric.
So electric that it haunted your dreams and left you with a need so aching you’d do anything to make it stop.
Yeah, so that happened on the regular.
It wasn’t so bad when he’d been home, in his own bed. But now, on the run, sleeping in a rattrap motel, on sheets that smelled of bad choices and infrequent washings, an erection was damn inconvenient.
He wasn’t much in the mood for lovin’.
He closed his eyes but Scarlett was there.
Naked Scarlett.
That night had been epic—whether that fell in the good or bad column, he still wasn’t sure—but damn, it sure left behind a scorch mark.
Basically, they’d been celebrating a successful completion to a complicated detail and they’d all headed down to the local pub to blow off some steam. Usually, Scarlett broke off from the team when it came to slugging back shots—said it looked bad for the TL to get sloppy with the team—but that night, she’d agreed to have a beer with them.
Maybe she hadn’t liked the idea of celebrating alone, or maybe it’d been something more personal, but when she’d said yes, Xander had been just as surprised as everyone else.
As it turned out, their TL could hold her liquor pretty damn well and that led to a friendly competition—which then turned into a liver-destroying expedition.
Ahh, tequila, why are you such a harsh bitch?
While everyone else tapped out, Xander and Scarlett kept at it.
Until... Well, suddenly, they were done with shots and they were in Scarlett’s apartment, naked and making even worse choices.
But, hot damn, those choices had led to some seriously awesome sex.
Xander pushed at his stubborn erection, irritated by its refusal to calm down.
He didn’t care how amped up he got—he wasn’t about to jerk off in this disgusting place. A guy had to have his standards.
As the TL, Scarlett was rigid, by-the-book, hard-ass, hard-nosed, with zero-tolerance for bullshit.
As a lover, Scarlett was wild, insatiable, dangerous and intoxicating as hell.
Basically, it’d been like having sex with Scarlett’s black-sheep twin with daddy issues.
There’d been biting, scratching, howling, grunts, sweat and the smell of raunchy sex.
Like he’d said—epic.
Until morning.
Then things had gotten awkward...fast.
“I think we can both agree this was a mistake,” Scarlett had said stiffly over her coffee mug, her rumpled hair sexier than anything Xander had ever seen, even if her expression had returned to that of his hard-nosed TL. “You’re welcome to a cup of coffee, but then you’re going to need to go home.”
Usually, he was the one giving that speech. Felt different being the receiver. “Either the sex was that good...or that bad. Do I want to know where I landed on that scale?”
“The sex was good.”
“Just good?”
“Are you looking for a medal, because I’m fresh out of those.”
“Too bad, I’m sure a medal for sex would look pretty good against the ones Uncle Sam gave me for meritorious service.” He waited while Scarlett poured coffee into a mug and pushed it across the counter toward him. He grabbed the mug and took an exploratory sip. The hot bracing liquid was black enough to put hair on his chest but he choked it down, not wanting to look like a pussy by asking for cream. “So, out of curiosity...if it was so good, why the one-and-done?”
“Because I’m your superior and it’s inappropriate. Sex last night was a lapse in judgment and I’d appreciate it if we could keep this private.”
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, realizing she was right. Scarlett was a good TL and he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize her position within Red Wolf. But he wasn’t going to lie, he would’ve been down for a few more rounds. “It’s a shame, though. We are pretty good together. Between the sheets, anyway.”
That tiny smile she allowed told him she agreed but Scarlett wasn’t one to mess with the rules. Her bones could’ve melted from pleasure but she’d still stick to her guns. Xander respected her attention to detail and the way she held the line but damn, his ego would’ve lapped up the cream if she’d swayed even the slightest in his direction.
Xander shook off the memory as a yawn cracked his jaw. She wouldn’t stop chasing him. He’d have to keep watching over his shoulder while trying to figure out who the hell wanted him to take the fall for the bomb.
Scarlett would only be out of commission for a few days. He had to go underground if he was going to shake her off his tail.
A part of him wished she would’ve listened to him. It would’ve been nice to have her on his side. It also would’ve felt good knowing that she believed him. He supposed that was immaterial but it meant something just the same.
Xander wasn’t a sap, hated mush and generally thought feelings were as tolerable as a case of hives.
His addiction to The Bachelor didn’t mean he secretly pined for love. Hell, no. He watched The Bachelor because he knew that love was bullshit and secretly he was always hoping for them all to fail.
Yeah, he was an asshole, but at least he was honest.
He liked that about Scarlett, too.
Her blunt honesty was refreshing. Even though she’d tossed him out of her apartment, he’d respected her straightforward approach. No posturing, no dancing around feelings—just straight up truth.
We can’t keep screwing each other because I could lose my job.
Couldn’t get plainer than that.
And now she was chasing him like a fox after a rabbit.
Was he a little bit messed up in the head that he found that sexy?
Of course he was.
Xander sighed, mildly surprised when he found himself still rock hard. For crying out loud, he wasn’t going to get any sleep like this.
Curling his hand around his shaft, he closed his eyes and gave into the memory that never failed
