Bang: B-Squad Book Two Read Free Page B

standing between her and the trunk of her car so nondescript it should belong to the Feds. "Like the Marines, just prettier and without the combat?"
    "Oh honey, you've obviously never been backstage." She used her key fob to pop the trunk.
    "Got rough did it?" The image of Tamara in her underwear and a white satin Miss Idaho sash in the middle of an all-female pillow fight flashed in his head.
    Reaching around him, she snagged a hot pink duffle with a designer name stitched across the top from the trunk. "You do not want to know the damage boob tape or a few drops of sour flavoring in Vaseline can do."
    "Vaseline?" He shut the trunk for her.
    "You wear it to keep lipstick from getting on your teeth. If it tasted gross, you were stuck with that for the entire competition."
    Now that was devious. "I think I'm starting to like you."
    "You already did." She swapped her bag from her left to her right hand and shook out the fingers on her free hand and sat back against the closed trunk.
    "Why is that, do you think?" He reached for the bag.
    She didn't release her hold on it. "I have a vagina and from what I hear you like anyone with one of those."
    Damn. He wasn't that bad. "Are you B-Squad ladies talking about me during your staff meetings?"
    He maneuvered his body so he stood in front of her, his legs on either side of her, relishing the way her breath caught.
    She didn't move away. "More like laughing."
    But she wasn't now. Nope. A flush had spread from the V of her cleavage up to her very kissable full lips that were slightly parted and begging to be tasted. He dipped his head lower and rested his finger tips on her hips—not enough to hold her there but enough to let her know he wanted to.
    He stopped close enough that there was nothing between them but sparks of anticipation. "Really?"
    She opened her mouth to retort and he took full advantage of the moment. It wasn't a sweet kiss because neither of them had more than an ounce of sugar in them. They were determined, assertive, demanding people who took what they wanted—and this was their kind of kiss. They devoured each other. She tasted of white wine, salty fries and the kind of dick-hardening trouble that had pre-come pooling on the swollen tip of his cock. The second her tongue slid against his, teasing him just as much as turning him harder than a steel door, he would have given up his soul to find out just how far they could take this kiss—even in the Devil's Dip Gym garage that was outfitted with more surveillance cameras than the typical bank.
    Let the B-Squad team watch. He just wanted to touch.
    But that wasn't to be.
    Way too soon, Tamara pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back, taking away her sweet mouth and all the sinful possibilities there were in how he wanted to have her use it.
    It was a toss-up on which ached more—his hard-on or his lungs as he tried to catch his breath.
    For a second they just stared at each other, lips kiss-swollen and desire thick in their veins. Oh yes. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Whatever it was about blondes with bad attitudes that did him in, she obviously had the same thing for swaggering former Marines.
    She was the first one to speak. "That's not happening again."
    "Why not?" Because he wanted to do it again. Now. And more. So much more.
    "I know all the blood in your brain hasn't gone south." She snuck under his arm that had been blocking her in place and strutted away, putting a few feet of daylight between them. "I've got a megalomaniacal cult leader on my tail because I'm hiding his daughter so he doesn't sell her off under the guise of a dutiful marriage. I don't have time or energy to get off on anything other than my own fingers right now."
    Without giving him a chance to respond, she turned and walked toward the private elevator that would whisk her up to the B-Squad’s main office. Her hips swayed a little more than normal as she strutted across the garage, her heels clicking on the