The man was literally whole-bodied seduction.
“You saying I’m a whore?”
“Whore is a strong word.” She tilted her head. “Jezebel is a more accurate description.”
Sansone barked out a laugh. “I am not as easy as I look thank you and”—he raked his amber gaze down her soaked form, the irises so dark for a moment that Nyssa got the brief image of her ovaries clicking together like marbles from the potent stare—“as pleasant as the thought of bending you over your couch is right now, sex isn’t my goal.”
She swallowed. “What is?”
Leaning forward on her sofa, he rested his elbows on his knees and gave her a sharp smile. “Vengeance, my friend…vengeance…”
Nyssa cast a glance around.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting for the cue of ominous organ playing and a lightning strike.” She rolled her shoulders. “Both happen when I step foot on church property and since I’m clearly talking to the devil...I figured they’d take place now.”
He snorted and stood. “Heh.” When he tugged his shirt up and over his head she had to mentally slap herself. “Woodard is a cunt,” Sansone stated matter-of-factly. “Cunts and I don’t mix.”
Her brows winged. “You weren’t joking about wanting my shoes, were you?”
His mouth twitched. “Cute.”
“Why do you care about what he did? You don’t even know me.”
“No, but I know of you and that’s just as good. You’re an extraordinary agent and your talents are being overlooked because fuck-twat has a say in what goes on at Beyond the Goal Lines. The way I see it, we can both leave, or we can fuck with his head until he goes.” Sansone brushed a palm over his curling caramel locks. “He used me to get to you, and I don’t like being posed like an action figure for other people’s amusement so we’re going to stay and we’re going to make his life a living hell.”
Nyssa mulled over every word, saw the sincerity in his stare and simply held up a finger.
He cocked his head and she dug into her bag, searching until she found what she was looking for. A quick trip to the app-store on her phone gave her what she needed before she said, “Repeat everything you just said in that same dark tone.”
Appearing thoroughly confused, he did just that. When he was done, Nyssa hit a button on her phone and the sound of an organ floated from the speaker.
Sansone burst into laughter and she grinned. “Down with fuck-twat!”
He echoed the chant and the sound of his chuckles made Nyssa briefly wonder if something inexplicably amazing had just changed in her life.
James had, in all actuality, eventually left after they’d fucked him around but unfortunately, the mentality at the agency hadn’t changed in his absence. Yet Sansone took one drunken suggestion and ran with it, landing them in a place of success years later that always managed to stump Nyssa into speechless gratitude. The fact Sansone had seen her talent and hadn’t doubted it had given her the confidence boost she needed to step out on a ledge and jump headfirst.
Her best friend was her partner and her partner was her best friend, but as the days went along, she wanted to add a third category to that list of attributes— lover.
What she felt for Sansone when he simply smiled at her, teased her, ran way deeper than affection. She was totally and completely in love and terrified of it.
“And apparently my terror leads to me pantsing and committing grand theft auto…” She banged her head against the steering wheel. “Why is my life so hard? Jesus did not die for this!”
A knock on the driver’s side window had her jerking upwards. Outside the glass stood her younger sister, looking just as rumpled and mentally fucked as she was. Nyssa hit the button and the window rolled down.
Samara Blackwell blinked eyes identical to Nyssa’s own and slowly said, “I did something unholy last night and I need to be baptized.”
Uh… “Sammie, I’m not ordained in
“You saying I’m a whore?”
“Whore is a strong word.” She tilted her head. “Jezebel is a more accurate description.”
Sansone barked out a laugh. “I am not as easy as I look thank you and”—he raked his amber gaze down her soaked form, the irises so dark for a moment that Nyssa got the brief image of her ovaries clicking together like marbles from the potent stare—“as pleasant as the thought of bending you over your couch is right now, sex isn’t my goal.”
She swallowed. “What is?”
Leaning forward on her sofa, he rested his elbows on his knees and gave her a sharp smile. “Vengeance, my friend…vengeance…”
Nyssa cast a glance around.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting for the cue of ominous organ playing and a lightning strike.” She rolled her shoulders. “Both happen when I step foot on church property and since I’m clearly talking to the devil...I figured they’d take place now.”
He snorted and stood. “Heh.” When he tugged his shirt up and over his head she had to mentally slap herself. “Woodard is a cunt,” Sansone stated matter-of-factly. “Cunts and I don’t mix.”
Her brows winged. “You weren’t joking about wanting my shoes, were you?”
His mouth twitched. “Cute.”
“Why do you care about what he did? You don’t even know me.”
“No, but I know of you and that’s just as good. You’re an extraordinary agent and your talents are being overlooked because fuck-twat has a say in what goes on at Beyond the Goal Lines. The way I see it, we can both leave, or we can fuck with his head until he goes.” Sansone brushed a palm over his curling caramel locks. “He used me to get to you, and I don’t like being posed like an action figure for other people’s amusement so we’re going to stay and we’re going to make his life a living hell.”
Nyssa mulled over every word, saw the sincerity in his stare and simply held up a finger.
He cocked his head and she dug into her bag, searching until she found what she was looking for. A quick trip to the app-store on her phone gave her what she needed before she said, “Repeat everything you just said in that same dark tone.”
Appearing thoroughly confused, he did just that. When he was done, Nyssa hit a button on her phone and the sound of an organ floated from the speaker.
Sansone burst into laughter and she grinned. “Down with fuck-twat!”
He echoed the chant and the sound of his chuckles made Nyssa briefly wonder if something inexplicably amazing had just changed in her life.
James had, in all actuality, eventually left after they’d fucked him around but unfortunately, the mentality at the agency hadn’t changed in his absence. Yet Sansone took one drunken suggestion and ran with it, landing them in a place of success years later that always managed to stump Nyssa into speechless gratitude. The fact Sansone had seen her talent and hadn’t doubted it had given her the confidence boost she needed to step out on a ledge and jump headfirst.
Her best friend was her partner and her partner was her best friend, but as the days went along, she wanted to add a third category to that list of attributes— lover.
What she felt for Sansone when he simply smiled at her, teased her, ran way deeper than affection. She was totally and completely in love and terrified of it.
“And apparently my terror leads to me pantsing and committing grand theft auto…” She banged her head against the steering wheel. “Why is my life so hard? Jesus did not die for this!”
A knock on the driver’s side window had her jerking upwards. Outside the glass stood her younger sister, looking just as rumpled and mentally fucked as she was. Nyssa hit the button and the window rolled down.
Samara Blackwell blinked eyes identical to Nyssa’s own and slowly said, “I did something unholy last night and I need to be baptized.”
Uh… “Sammie, I’m not ordained in
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