“Well, then,” he purred, with a kind of poisoned seductive quality to his voice, “let’s talk about how looks can be deceiving and how you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Ladies first, and I’ll spare you the talking in circles. You say you’re Kara Tatum, a secretary trying to make a living to help your poor, sick mom. I say you’re Kara Michaels, an FBI agent on a vigilante mission.”

His words blasted through her like a freight train, crushing her chest, and all but flattening her. It was all Kara could do not to flinch. There was no way he could know this unless he had someone inside the feds. “Ex,” she lied in a last-ditch effort to save herself. “I’m ex-FBI.”

He flattened his hands on the bed on either side of her, his big body crowding hers. “Stop lying to me, Kara. I know you think you have to, but it’s really fucking pissing me off. I can deal with you being FBI. I already suspected it. The lies are another story.”

“Is that your plea for trust? I’m fucking pissing you off?”

“I’m done with pleading.” He grabbed her legs and tugged her forward, closing his legs around hers. “Consider this a demand. And just in case you think I don’t know as much as I do… you’re on leave of absence and you’re not on any documented undercover operation.”

“If you know so much why do I need to tell you anything?”

“What are you after?” he demanded, ignoring her question.

“I don’t—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me again, Kara.”

“Stop with the fuck fuck fuck!” she exclaimed, grabbing handfuls of his t-shirt. “It’s getting old, Blake, and now you’re pissing me off.”

A moment of surprise flashed on his too-handsome face that only made her glare harder at him. She didn’t want to desire this man, yet over and over he made her. He glared right back at her. Words were lost to the crackle of electricity between them. Seconds ticked by and with each one she became more aware of him, of how close her actions had brought their bodies, their mouths.

He cursed softly, and then his hand slid to the back of her head, fingers splaying wide into her hair before his mouth slanted over hers. Kara moaned as his tongue dipped into her mouth, for a fast, hot caress followed by his demand. “You’re going to tell me what I need to know. You know that, right?”

“You can’t fuck me into telling you,” she replied, trying to sound tough despite the warm tease of his breath against her lips and she failed miserably. Instead, she sounded breathless, and as needy as she felt.

“I’ll fuck you, sweetheart,” he promised, “because I want to and you want me to. Foreplay is you telling me what you’re after.”