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He’s a K19 partner and sworn alpha protector.
She’s a CIA special agent on a top-secret mission.
With him by her side, they’ll go DUTCH on everything. 

The enemy always goes down. I never let anything stop me or get in my way. I shoot to kill and my aim is true. But when they have her, glock locked and loaded right at her temple, I take my shot, killing them, and destroying her high-risk mission. 

He destroyed it all. My mission. My vendetta. And most importantly my heart. I can’t go back to what we were, what we’ll never be again. Even though I know he’s my only chance, my only hope of salvaging this mission. But going DUTCH again could shatter my heart.


Her skin was tan from the sun, and her lips were ruby red. Her shoulder-length inky-black hair was the same color as the thin silk camisole she wore to stave off the heat. When its spaghetti strap slid off her shoulder, I couldn’t help but wind it around my finger and pull it just a little lower, causing her to try to shrug away and shoot me a look of confusion.

Up until five o’clock today, I wouldn’t have laid a hand on her. Now, all bets were off. I was no longer Special Agent Malin “Starling” Kilbourne’s boss. In fact, I no longer worked for the CIA at all, which meant I intended to start fulfilling every fantasy I’d had about the woman who made my blood run hot.

Malin covered my hand with hers. “What are you doing?”

I smiled. “Peeking.”

I watched as she looked past me, searching the crowded outdoor patio for the rest of the team that had gone out to celebrate both the end of a mission and my leaving the agency. When her gaze settled on me and she moved her hand away, I took the opportunity to walk her backwards a few short steps until she rested against the cool stone wall of the building.

Her look challenged more than questioned, and when I leaned in to run my tongue along her clavicle, sweet Miss Malin gasped and closed her eyes.

Was she surprised? Had she not seen this coming? Hadn’t she felt how the air around us crackled when I got within a foot of her?

I was done denying myself the knowledge of how her naked body would feel under mine. I pulled the camisole a little lower until I could see the tip of her dusty-rose nipple.


It wasn’t just the heat and humidity of the summer night that made it hard for me to breathe; Thomas “Dutch” Miller, my former boss as of a few short hours ago and star of every fantasy I’d had as a woman, had his hands on me. Not just his hands, his lips and tongue too.

I was used to seeing him in the dark suits he wore to work every day along with a crisp white button-down shirt and a conservative tie. Tonight, he wore a faded blue t-shirt that was the perfect size to show off the muscles I knew he worked hard to maintain and a pair of khaki cargo shorts. His blond hair was cropped close, but I’d heard him say he intended to grow it long now that he was retiring—at least from working directly for the agency. I’d also heard that he planned to join a private firm owned by several former agency operatives.

As much as I wanted to watch as he bent his head and laved the nipple he’d just exposed, my eyes drifted closed. With one hand, I clutched his arm, not to stop him, but in an attempt to hang on for dear life as the man set my already overheated body on fire.

I was disappointed when he drew the strap of my camisole back up to my shoulder, but groaned with equal intensity when he pulled my arm away from my body and studied the tattoo on the soft skin covering my tricep. He leaned forward again and ran the hard tip of his tongue over the right arrow, the one with the shaft piercing a diamond. That one symbolized invincibility. He moved to the left, tracing the feathered arrow that represented liberty, triumph, and independence.

“I like these,” he murmured, raising his head so his lips were close enough to mine to touch. “I like them on your skin.”

If I could speak, I wouldn’t know what to say. The man had equally intimidated and excited me since the day the CIA’s human resource officer led me into his office.

“You’re mine now, Kilbourne,” Dutch had said that day, but not meaning it in the way I’d wanted him to even after a few minutes in his presence.

Part of me had considered asking for a different assignment, but I didn’t. Doing so would’ve been more of a career-killer than lusting after my first boss.

I put both hands under his shirt and rested my palms just above the waist of his shorts. His skin was hot to the touch while mine alternated between scorching and covered in chill bumps depending on where he ran his tongue.

“You’re mine now, Malin,” he said, his words fulfilling the first fantasy I’d had of what it would be like to be seduced by him. “Let’s get out of here.”

He took my hand and led me out the back gate of the bar’s patio and to his car. He pushed me up against the passenger door and rested his rock-hard body flush with mine.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

“I do,” I breathed right before he took my mouth with his in a kiss that was more incendiary than the hottest flame. I knew it would burn; I only hoped I could withstand the pain he’d inevitably cause me.

Everyone knew Dutch Miller was already in love, and it wasn’t with me.

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