dark ops 3 - Renegade Read Online Free PDF Page A

down her back.
    Now was definitely not the time to think of how good her curves had felt against him when they’d tangled up together in his parachute.
    The spray from the hose dwindled, and the second spaceman opened the back of the truck. Mason tore his eyes off the woman before she caught him gawking like an adolescent nube. They had bigger concerns, for God’s sake,
    Shaking water from his arms, he sprinted toward the sanitized vehicle. He heard splashes behind him and realized his cop companion was a step away. He stopped short to let her enter first.
    “Th-th-thanks.” Her teeth chattered. “Nice to see your mama taught you some manners.”
    His Junior League mother had been big on manners. His smile went tight. “Just checking out your rear view.”
    “What a tool,” she muttered as she grabbed a rail to pull herself up and into the silver metal cavern.
    He followed, keeping his eyes off her underwear and perfect backside, because in spite of his own ribbing, he had been taught better by his socialite mother. Mason sat on the metal bench across from the lady cop. The door slammed shut and hissed with a decontaminating seal, leaving them alone together in a cavern bathed in the glow of the red lights lining the ceiling. He snagged one of the thin, metallic space blankets to pass her and draped another over his shoulders. Slowly, his skin stopped burning from the cold.
    How flipping ironic to be so cold his skin felt like it was being stabbed everywhere by fiery needles. Or could that be the effect of the chemicals? He shoved the fear away to be dealt with later, since there wasn’t a thing more he could do about it now.
    But what about her? Should he prep himself for a hysterical meltdown now that the initial crisis had passed?
    She’d seemed tough enough while grinding his nose into the dirt. Still, she had to be scared shitless right about now. He tried to search her face, but the dim red lights still made seeing her face difficult. Although he couldn’t miss the way she shivered inside her blanket, from cold or fear or going into shock he couldn’t know for sure, but better to err on the side of caution.
    He’d always found distraction to be the best cure for the shakes in a crisis, and she’d already shown her vulnerability. “So, do you come here often?”
    She hugged her blanket tighter. “Pardon me?”
    “What’s your sign? What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? I’m new in town, could you give me directions to your place?” He rambled through the cheesy pickup lines as the truck jolted forward, waiting until . . . yeah, he could already sense the fire crackling back to life inside her.
    “How juvenile, like your underwear,” she muttered softly, although she must not have said it too softly to have been heard over the revving engine.
    “Apparently you didn’t think much of my cartoon boxers. Damn shame. Valentine’s Day is what? Only a few weeks away?”
    “Six weeks.”
    Like he couldn’t count. But hallelujah, he had her talking. “What’s wrong with a man wearing some cupids and hearts in preparatory celebration of the holiday of love? I thought your gender longed for males who won’t forget Valentine’s Day.”
    She snorted, but at least her teeth had stopped chattering. Irritation was better than fear or hypothermia. Hopefully he could keep her distracted long enough for them to find out whether or not that toxic explosion had wrecked their DNA for life.
    “Ah, you prefer your pickups to be more straightforward.” He thrust out his hand. “Hi, I’m Mason.”
    “You told me earlier.” She ignored his hand while keeping her own buried in the folds of her blanket.
    “And you are?”
    “Not interested in chitchat or pretend pickup games to pass the time.”
    “I guess that’s a big fat nope to telling me your name.”
    Camo dudes were notoriously closemouthed. They even went to extreme lengths to avoid having their photos taken by tourists or the press.