“Ready?”

“Ah!” I nearly scream as he scares the shit out of me. Lost in the photos and my own inner thoughts, Jackson’s stealth mode catches me off guard yet again.

His deep, throaty chuckle is against my neck as his arms wrap around me from behind.

“Seriously, this is getting old.” I mean really, am I that oblivious?

He runs his face against my neck, his stubble scratching against my skin. Leaning back into his embrace, he places chaste kisses on my shoulder and neck as he runs his hands up my arms and squeezes. When he stops, I turn to face him. His eyes are desolate—completely void—as they look at the photos on the wall.

“Jackson? Are you okay?” I ask apprehensively.

When he looks at me, he looks sad. He winces when I place my hand on his arm so I drop it. It’s the same look he had the last time he glimpsed at the photos and, like then, I’m unsure how to proceed. I don’t want to push him, but I want to know what’s causing him pain. I try again by placing my hand on his face, rubbing it on his scruffy cheek. Our gazes lock and I watch his eyes gloss with unshed tears. Leaning up, I place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I’m fine. I’m just lost in memories,” he finally replies, giving me some insight into what’s troubling him. I hate seeing anyone hurting, but for some reason Jackson’s pain feels like my own, worse even. And that scares me—a lot.

“Wanna tell me about them?”

“Not today.” He gives a small smile and places his lips against mine. I feel his tongue across the seam of my lips, asking for entrance. I grant him access and our tongues brush against each other. He kisses me slowly, tenderly, never rushing the kiss. It’s sweet, almost timid. My hands roam up his arms and around his neck as his fingers gently tangle in my hair. Our kiss stays soft, as if he’s pouring his emotion into me. Tears form as my own emotions are unleashed. My hurt, pain, sadness, and loss from the last few days bubbles up. His hands are sliding down my neck and then my shoulders when we hear a cough and a loud laugh behind us.

“Don’t let me interrupt. I don’t mind watching.” Mark smiles as he enters the room. He plops in a chair and puts his legs on the table.

I laugh as my heavy emotions quickly change to embarrassment, which is surely displayed across my face. As I start to move, Jackson grabs me and pulls me close, glaring at Mark. “By all means, ass**le, make yourself at home.”

Mark looks around, smirking. “I need an office like this. You’re never here. I think I’ll move in after you leave.”

“I think maybe I’ll let Papa Smurf stay off the mission. You really could use some time in the sun,” Jackson goes back at Mark.

I giggle. Seriously, what is with these guys and their names? I don’t even want to ask who Papa Smurf is or how he earned that name.

“Did she just giggle?” Mark asks before snorting.

“Did you just snort?” I reply with a smile.

“Well played, Catherine. Well played.”

I love when men think they can get one over on me.

“She got you, f**ker,” Jackson says while laughing and pushing Mark’s feet off the table. “What do you need?”

Mark and Jackson start talking about the mission that’s in trouble in Afghanistan. One of the trucks never delivered their second shipment of ammunition and they’re both worried. The stress of knowing their friends are in harm’s way must be insurmountable. No wonder Jackson was pissed the other day.

“Listen, Kitty.” Mark leans in since he’s finished talking with Jackson.

What the hell did he call me? “Kitty?”

“Yeah, I mean your name is Cat, so I figure Kitty is a good call sign for you. You get all cute and cuddly, but I bet you could claw someone’s eye out if they pissed you off. Right?” Mark laughs and raises his brow.

Jackson stands there with a smug smile on his face.

“Seriously, I don’t need a call sign. I’m pretty sure I’m not going on any missions anytime soon.”

“Nah, Kitty works. Plus, now that I know it pisses you off, this shit is going to be even more fun. Make sure fat ass stays out of trouble in New York. I don’t want to have to come up there and kick his ass.”

Jackson laughs, “Keep dreaming, f**ker.”

Mark walks out of the office, whistling the melody of “The Cat Came Back” as he goes.

I turn to Jackson with my mouth hanging open. This can’t be real. He’s just smiling away, completely amused. I start to walk over, narrowing my eyes, and he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Catherine, Mark is a jackass.” He starts backing away as I move closer.

“Yes, I’ve learned as much, but you—” I point my finger as I get closer. “You didn’t even try to stop him.” I smile and bite my lip as Jackson takes a step forward.

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to see him too much. Plus, if I intervene, it’ll only get worse. Besides, kittens are cute.” He reaches out, grabs me around my waist, and pulls me flush against him. My heart races and my breathing accelerates as he leans down and kisses me. He lifts me up and turns me, pushing my back against the wall. I wrap my leg around his waist as our mouths fuse together. Forcefully, passionately, he plunges into my mouth, claiming me. I moan, knowing that with every touch, with every kiss, I’m becoming his. The low flame that burns whenever Jackson is around turns into an inferno. I pull my mouth away, trying to push him back.

“Jackson, we have to stop.” My voice is weak and breathless.

He ignores my futile attempt for space and puts his arms against the wall, not allowing me to move anywhere. “I told you, in private I make no promises.”

“Yes, but we’re not in private. Two of your employees have already made that clear. Plus, we have a plane to catch.”

“I own the plane,” he whispers seductively against my lips. “It’ll wait until I’m ready. Tell me you don’t want me,” he commands and pulls his mouth back. I’m against the wall, breathless and unable to lie. I want him more than my next breath. “Tell me.”

“I want you,” I say, closing my eyes to the sound of my shaking voice. I’m so damn turned-on. I’ve wanted him since day one. Feeling his arousal on my stomach, I open my eyes and look into his. The lust in them spurs me on. I lean in and grip his shirt. He pulls back slightly and his cheek lifts in amusement.

“Good. Now we have a plane to catch.” He leans backward, making it impossible for me to kiss him again.

“Jackson, you don’t want to play this game, do you?” I say, dripping with desire.

“What game, baby? I’m just following your wishes.”

“I don’t think so. I want you.” I snake my hand around his neck and yank as his eyes crinkle. I’m practically climbing my way to his mouth.

“You want me, huh?”

“I think I’ve said that already.” I inch closer to his mouth. He pulls back but shifts me up higher on his waist.

“Too bad.” He leans in and gives me a brief kiss.

It seems Jackson likes to play games. Good thing I never lose. He may not know it yet, but he has met his match.

I spent the entire flight keyed up from Jackson’s teasing and subsequent refusal to quench my desire in Virginia. Then, of course, he found any way he could to continue the torturous game. He’d brush against my leg or just barely touch my arm, fueling the hunger coursing through my veins. In order to avoid begging him, I spent the flight plotting a way to repay the favor. Payback is a bitch and he’s about to see how big of one I can be—in a nice way, of course.