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so that she was straddling him, placing the hot epicenter of her body over the fly of his jeans. He jumped beneath her, and she ended the kiss to stare hotly into his eyes.
    “I know exactly what you need, Jericho,” she said, and then she rolled her hips, pressing herself against him. His body bucked into her on instinct; his hands fell to those incredible hips in an attempt to hold her still.
    Something was wrong here. He shouldn’t be doing this, he just couldn’t remember the reason why. And what she was doing felt so good. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt good. He needed this; he needed her.
    And so, he hesitantly thrust against her. She dropped her head to his shoulder, placed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, and whispered, “Just like that.”
    So he did it again. And again.
    His body began to shake. Really hard. He frowned.
    Jericho’s eyes popped open to stare widely at the pillow his face was buried into. He was panting into the linen, and someone was shaking his shoulder with all their might.
    And he was thrusting into the mattress with each one of his hoarse gasps.
    “Jericho!” Dahlia said loudly, obviously not for the first time, as she sounded annoyed.
    Reality came crashing in, and Jericho scrambled back from Dahlia’s hand, only to hit his head on the wall with a thump. He cursed and shook his head to clear it. Thank God her hand had been on his t-shirt instead of his skin. He didn’t feel like fighting his gag reflex on top of everything else because he’d been reminded of her evil nature again.
    But then he remembered what he’d been dreaming about, and he had to fight not to be sick anyway. He glared at Dahlia where she stood beside his bed. Maybe she hadn’t seen what his lower half had been up to while he’d dreamt.
    “That was … some dream you must have been having,” she said with a smirk.
    Jericho sighed. So much for that pipe dream. “What I dream about is none of your business,” he said. He cast a surreptitious glance at his lap to make sure he wasn’t revealing any evidence that he hadn’t yet fully shaken the dream. No such luck.
    “Yeah, well, about that,” she said slowly and in a tone Jericho didn’t appreciate.
    He returned his eyes to her and narrowed them in warning.
    “If you’re having a dream like that ,” she pointed delicately to his still-obvious erection, “then you obviously didn’t handle things last night.”
    Jericho’s mouth flopped open. Did the woman have no shame? There were so many things he wanted to say to her in response, but what slipped out was, “Do you mind not pointing at it, for God’s sake?”
    She smiled; Jericho winced. “Of course,” she said lightly, returning her hand to her side. “Do you mind not screwing my mission because you’re a caco ?”
    Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good. “Excuse me?”
    Dahlia’s smile had disappeared. “This isn’t a joke, Jericho. The pain from the Impulse is real. You don’t take care of it, and it will overtake you. You’ll become a liability I can’t afford to have, and if you so much as delay me by a second, I’ll drop your ass.”
    Jericho unfolded to his full height. “You’ll drop my ass?” he asked. “How about I haul your ass back to the facility right now?” He realized his threat was impotent as soon as it left his mouth. He couldn’t take her back until he’d figured out her secret.
    He didn’t know what he expected Dahlia to do in response, but stomp over to him and stand toe-to-toe while she stuck her finger in his face was not even close to on the list.
    “Do it, cabrón. Then I can break out again and make sure no one follows next time.” She suddenly smiled, making Jericho uneasy. “Everything you can do, baby, I can do better, so try it. See what happens.”
    He had nothing to say to that. And, unfortunately, she had a point about the Impulse. And since her mission was currently his mission as well … . “I’ll handle the