The warmth of his breath on her ear shot straight to her nipples and beyond. Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

Once they were all assembled, Maddox turned on the camera, and began to video himself. “This is Inspector Maddox Price, San Francisco PD.” He stated the date, time, and location before turning the camera on Justin.

“Lieutenant Justin Barbieri, SFPD, joint task force liaison.”

When the camera turned to Flynn, he briskly identified himself. “Special Agent Flynn Ryker, Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Lastly the camera turned to Izzy. “Isadora Fuentes.” She looked at Flynn, then at the camera, and said, “Classified informant.”

Flynn shook his head, but Maddox grinned as he turned the camera back to himself.  “The purpose of documenting the date, location, time as well as involved parties preceding the bait video is to establish that the content is sanctioned by the joint task force of Operation Bullwinkle. All acts contained in this video are staged, but willfully consensual for the purposes of the operation. Any props used during the filming of this video are placebos.”

He handed the phone to Izzy.  “Miss Fuentes, to ensure fluidity and the validity of the video if it’s challenged in a court of law, please refrain from turning the camera off until such time as the act is complete.”

“Okay,” she said, gingerly taking the cell phone and placing it on her nightstand in the exact same position she had put her original phone Saturday night.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled as her eyes rested on Flynn, who stood silent at the foot of her bed.  She didn’t hear the door close when Maddox and Justin left them alone.  At Flynn’s continued stare, her skin warmed.  Her nipples tightened beneath the thin fabric of her top.  His jaw clenched as a curse slipped from his lips.

Swallowing hard, Izzy wasn’t sure how to proceed.  Flynn had been given the script.  He told her to follow his lead, but he just stood there.

Should she start the act that wasn’t really going to be an act on her part, because she craved Flynn’s hands on her again, or wait for him to come to her?  When he still didn’t move, her heart thudded with the intensity of a runaway freight train.  Fighting the tremor that threatened to go through her, it occurred to Izzy that maybe Flynn didn’t want her.

Maybe it was better that way. With a shaky breath, she sat down on the edge of the bed in view of the camera. Mustering up all of her bravado, Izzy moved back onto the mattress, and then slowly, rose up on her knees.  Crooking her finger at him, she said, “Come here, Special Agent Ryker.”

When he still didn’t move, her stomach did a slow, hard roll. Humiliation swept through her. She wasn’t going to beg him, damn it! Mentally she counted backward from ten.  When she got to one, if he hadn’t moved, she was going to go tap Justin or Maddox for the job!  Her belly did another slow roll.  As hot as those two were, she only wanted one man.  The one standing at the foot of her bed who didn’t want her.

Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip.  Ten. Nine. Eight. Heat flushed her cheeks. Seven. Six.  Her chest rose and fell sharply as emotion clenched her resolve.  Five. Four. Three.

Warm breath caressed her cheek.

A rush of heat flooded her veins. “I hate that I can’t stop wanting this,” he rasped inches from her.

Biting back the cry that struggled to escape, Izzy opened her eyes and this time the cry escaped.  His blue eyes glittered intensely.  His nostrils flared like the predator he was.  The way his features tightened with unleashed power stirred her soul.  Every inch of her cried out for succor.

A strong arm slipped around her bare waist and yanked her hard against his chest.  His lips hovered just above hers.  “I can’t get you out of my head,” he said, anger edging the words.

Swallowing hard, Izzy held his stare.  Despair swirled in the blue depths of his eyes. Desire she couldn’t ignore.  They had a cosmic connection.  Neither one of them wanted it, they’d both fought it and they’d both lost. He had been no more able to erase her from his mind than she had him. Still, they were where they had begun two nights ago. Nothing had changed except the date and time. Izzy had no hope that once this video was shot, he wouldn’t walk out the door again.

So let this charade play out, and when it was over she would double her efforts to put this man out of her mind.  Closing her eyes, she mentally prepared herself for this. Slowly she opened them, holding his intense gaze.  Sliding her shield firmly back in place, she smiled seductively.

“I’m so happy you came home with me,” Izzy breathed, running her hands up his hard chest. Damn, he felt good.  “I want to do bad things to you, Special Agent Ryker.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Izzy tugged Flynn’s tie, loosening it. Leaning into him, she pressed her lips to the base of his throat.  His fingers dug into the small of her back.  His other hand slid down the back of her thigh. The effect went straight to her core.  She didn’t want to respond to his closeness the way she did.  She wanted to feel nothing.  But when both of his hands slid down to her ass and grasped her, pressing her into his erection, her breath hissed from her lungs at the contact.

“I want to do bad things to you, too, Wild Style,” he whispered.

When he lowered his lips to hers, she turned away, not wanting to give that part of her to him.  His fingers tightened against her skin.

Laughing, she shook her head in an attempt to shake off the fever that burned through her.  Moving back onto the bed, she pulled him with her.  “Kissing is for suckers, Special Agent Ryker. I want to get down to business,” she said, her voice low, but challenging.

As he leaned over her, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it apart, the buttons popping off.  It took monumental control not to slide her hands along the hard planes of his bare chest. Closing her eyes so that her desire wouldn’t be captured in the video, she turned away from the cell phone’s camera.

Flynn lowered his nose to her cleavage and inhaled her scent.  Her heart thumped against her rib cage as her body flushed with a soft sheen of perspiration.  A whimper escaped her lips.

He looked up at her, his blue eyes fierce with desire.  Trembling, she tried to control her reaction to his touch.  Even knowing they were being filmed, she couldn’t.

Brushing his lips across her ear, he softly said, “Relax, baby, you can do this.”

Biting her bottom lip, she nodded, then turned to the camera with a sultry pout and said, “You have too many clothes on.”

He grinned and moved back off the bed and stood, taking his shirt and tie off.  Tossing them onto the floor, he leaned over her and said, “I have something I want you to try before I strip you down to those heels.”  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small clear vial with white powder in it.

“What is that?” she asked, surprised. The guys hadn’t said anything about a drug video.  But then it made more sense, didn’t it?  A sex video didn’t go nearly as far as a fed snorting coke with a stripper did.

“Bolivian blow.  Primo shit.”

“I’ve never done drugs—wait, aren’t you a cop?” she asked, catching on quick.

Flynn smiled and traced a finger down between her breasts.  “It’s a nice little perk of the job.”

“Where did you get it? What if you get caught? Would you go to jail?”

Taking the vial between his teeth, he pushed her back into the mattress.  His strong hands slid along her thighs to her hips. Dropping the vial to the bed beside her, his lips trailed from the bottom of her bikini top to her belly button. He looked up at her and said, “You ask too many questions, Wild Style. Just relax and trust me.”  He nipped her skin.  “I’m untouchable.”