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a
thrill spiraling through her body.
    “You want me, don’t you?” She slid her free
hand up and down the side of her hip, the silk of her gown soft and
sleek against her palm.
    She wished it was Mason’s big hands touching
her. Tugging the nightgown off with that focused intensity that
aroused her so much, his fingers searching her skin, cupping her
breasts, sliding between her legs.
    The fresh surge of moisture flooding her sex
was unmistakable.
    “This isn’t right.”
    “Too late for right or wrong, Mason. It’s
already happening.” She paused and peered out the window. “Where
are you? I can’t see you.”
    “In bed.”
    Those two words sent a thrill chasing down
her spine. She propped a hand against the window frame, studying
the single lit window directly across from her. What did he wear
when he went to bed? Actual pajamas?
    Nah. Underwear and a T-shirt? Hmm, no
T-shirt, she’d guess. Maybe he wore nothing at all.
    That particular image made her mouth go
dry.
    “You should be asleep,” he continued.
“Tucked in and with the lights off. Go to bed, Blake.”
    “I really like it when you say my name,” she
confessed. She did. He didn’t say it often enough.
    “Get some sleep.” He paused, she heard his
sharp inhale, as if he searched for some sort of control. Oh, that
shouldn’t excite her, but it did. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
    “Actually I’m not tired at all.” Licking her
lips, she lowered her voice seductively. “Do you want to watch me?
You can look but not touch. I don’t mind.”
    Fine, she did mind. She’d prefer if he
touched her. Run those big, capable hands all over body, but she’d
settle for this. For now.
    “I don’t think...”
    “That’s your problem,” she interrupted.
“You’re too busy thinking.” And for once in her life, she wasn’t
thinking at all. Maybe a mistake, but she didn’t care. “Let your
mind go, Mason, and watch.”
    He didn’t say a word and she slid her free
hand back up, over her stomach, her ribs, cupping her left breast.
The bit of lace at the bodice rasped against her sensitive skin and
she shivered.
    She shrugged the shoulder strap off and
slipped her hand beneath the sagging fabric of the nightgown,
brushing her fingers against her distended nipple. Gooseflesh
dotted her skin and her knees wobbled at the thought of him
watching her.
    God, what would it be like to have Mason
actually touch her?
    “I’m imagining it’s your hands on me,” she
confessed, lightly pinching her nipple. The little gasp of pleasure
that escaped her was unmistakable.
    “Blake, my God, you need to stop.” He
sounded like a dying man. But that was all right, since she was
dying too.
    “I don’t want to stop.”
    “You have to. This is getting way out of
control.” He hung up on her, the unmistakable click sounding loud
and clear. Too loud and clear.
    She threw the phone down onto her bed,
watching as it bounced. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and
she shook her head, refusing to let them fall.
    Damn it, she wanted to be sexy and
seductive. Instead, she’d just made a complete fool of herself.
What must he think of her? That she was foolish and wasting her
time? Wasting his time too?
    He could’ve hung up from the get go if he
really hadn’t wanted to see her, talk to her. At least that’s what
she told herself.
    Minor comfort in what was going to be a long
night.

    Mason reached over and turned off the lamp.
Lying flat on his back, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind
racing, his cock aching.
    Watching Blake touch herself had nearly been
his undoing. Not as if he’d really seen anything, though Christ,
how he wished.
    Closing his eyes, he scrubbed a hand over
his face. Let his palm rest against his mouth. He hadn’t been
tempted like this…ever.
    These last few years he’d lived and breathed
the Secret Service, had come up the ranks in a relatively quick
time. And like a damn fool, he was tempted to do the wrong thing.
As if he