Agent U7: Keegan (The D.I.R.E. Agency Series Book 7) Read Online Free Page A

Riordan continued with the wedding. The standoff had been exhausting, but worth it.
    Until Clint walked in the door.
    Hatred should be forefront in her mind right now. The man had all but called her a whore for wanting to know what good sex felt like, for trying to learn what excited her and what didn’t.
    For trying to wipe the memory of Cyrus’ sexual abuse from her mind.
    Yet, something about Clint’s composed, unassuming nature attracted her. His ordinary looks were actually kinda extraordinary when they weren’t buttoned up in an expensive suit. How odd.
    “Do you always do what Mitchell says?”
    His gaze bounced off her breasts, bare beneath her I Am Invincible sleep shirt, before looking up at her face. “If I think it makes sense. If it doesn’t, I question it.”
    She sat on the end of the bed, her legs crossed into a lap. “Did you question this ?”
    He tipped back his head to look up at the ceiling, the muscles in his neck distending. He gave a sarcastic chuckle. “I fought it.”
    “Why? Afraid of me?” She couldn’t help but provoke him.
    His smile disintegrated, a scowl in it’s place. “No. I just didn’t want a front row seat for tonight’s one-night stand.”
    Wincing inside, she cursed herself for allowing that to hurt. He didn’t understand her, didn’t understand her motives, didn’t understand that, despite her freedom, she still felt trapped.
    Still felt Cyrus would come back for her.
    “Kiss my ass, Clint.”
    Jumping up from the bed, she went around the side and pulled down the covers. Reaching over for the lamp, she turned off the light, leaving him sitting in the dark.
    “Are you serious?” His voice carried over the hum of the fan beneath the window.
    Fluffing her pillow, she turned on her side, leaving her back to him. She pretended to snore.
    He let out a breath, his footsteps light against the carpet. The bed dipped behind her, the lamp illuminating the room again.
    “Keegan.”
    Snoring louder, she didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want some politically correct apology that meant nothing.
    Didn’t want to cry. Again.
    His touch on her arm sent a shiver racing through her. What was he doing? He didn’t belong in her bed, didn’t belong in the room.
    She didn’t want him there.
    He pulled the covers over her shoulder. “You’re cold.”
    Actually, you are… “Go away, Clint.”
    “I can’t.”
    She pulled the covers tighter around her. “Yes, you can. You stand, walk to the door, open it, and pull it shut behind you. It’s really quite simple.”
    He breathed through his nose. “Or, you could roll over, look at me, and let me apologize again for acting like an ass.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Why not?” He actually sounded offended.
    “Because you wouldn’t mean it.”
    His swallow echoed in the room before his gentle hands turned her to face him. Something in his soft touch made her allow it, the swallow telling her whatever he said next had to be difficult. She squinted against the dull light.
    “Believe it when I say I really am sorry. That was rude and…unprofessional.”
    Obviously, she was wrong. His words were just as empty as she’d expected. She sputtered with laughter. “Really, Clint? What does professionalism have to do with any of this?”
    His eyes widened in panicked confusion. “Well, we’re working together.”
    Pulling her arm from under the covers, she waved her hand between them. “Does this look like work?”
    A lopsided grin blossomed on his face. “Depends on your line of work.”
    They shared a smile before hers disappeared. “I’m not a whore, Clint.”
    His shamed gaze strayed to the coverlet before he nodded. “I know.”
    “Then why do you judge me?”
    His gaze returned to her, his voice lined with exasperation. “I don’t understand. I mean, look at you, you’ve got to be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, you’re smart, wealthy, strong, and you’re having random sex with random men. Why? Your