Naked Sushi by Jina Bacarr Page B

loved the way he touched me, made me feel good.
    But I wanted more.
    I didn’t want to press my luck, but I couldn’t help wishing he’d kiss me.
    “He’s eager to meet my Asian contacts,” Steve said, grabbing my fingers and entwining them with his. It was a romantic gesture and one that made my bachelorette meter soar even if he was trying to con me. “There will be several pretty models at the hotel. All you have to do is follow the script I give you. There will be a surveillance team in place. We’ll move in quietly and take Briggs into custody after we get what we want.”
    I pulled away. I wanted to see my ex-boss pay for what he did to me, but those old feelings of doubt lingered in my mind. Like smelly gym socks left in your tote bag. You didn’t want to open it.
    “I can’t do it.”
    “Pepper—”
    “Mr. Briggs may be a crook, but you’re asking me to be a snitch.”
    “You want to be a spy, don’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then be one.”
    He had a point. For years, I’d watched every cop and spy show on TV. Learning the lingo, imitating their moves when they kicked down doors, practicing my two-handed gun pose.
    Still—
    “What if I screw up?” I had to ask.
    “You won’t, Pepper. I’d stake my badge on it.”
    “You would?” I asked, disbelieving.
    “I would.”
    He tilted my head back and claimed my mouth with the most intoxicating pair of lips a girl ever knew. Burning with need, melting into me, pressing harder when I reached around his neck and held him tight. I parted my lips and he entwined his tongue with mine, leaving me breathless.
    If this was a bribe, bring it on.
    I pressed my breasts against his muscular chest and moaned so loud I shocked myself. “Don’t stop, Steve, please don’t stop.”
    He gave it to me hot and long, sweetening the moment with trails of kisses up and down my neck and then sticking his tongue into my cleavage. Tickling me, unhooking my bra. He circled my breasts, but he didn’t play with my nipples.
    What the—
    “Suck on my nipples, please ,” I said, jiggling my breasts like a wound-up Kewpie doll.
    “No.”
    “You know you want to,” I teased, biting down on my lower lip. Was that me talking?
    “Not until you promise to help me take down a corporate thief. A man who is a liar and a cheat.”
    “Steve, I—I—”
    “You can do it, Pepper.” He cupped my breasts and squeezed them.
    Oh, the frustration. Whoever thought he’d resort to such torture?
    Jesus, I thought I was going to die.
    I begged him to bite my nipples. Twist them. Wet them with his tongue. Blow on them. Do something .
    No , he said. Not until I promised to do what he asked.
    I writhed about in the bucket seat of his old Buick, the split leather cracking under my butt. I was in an emotional pickle. I wanted to be a spy and when the opportunity was handed to me on a silver platter, I froze. I knew this was my defining moment. No more daydreaming about being a spy girl.
    Do it or forget it.
    That meant I had to let go, get over my fears, and if it took wild, passionate sex to put me over the top, then so be it. I couldn’t stand the burning in my belly another minute.
    I gave in.
    “Okay, Steve, I’ll wear the damn wire.”
    He grinned wide. “I thought you’d see things my way.”
    “Do I have a choice?” I asked, panting hard.
    “No, but I do.” He bit my nipple hard, then the other, and I fell headfirst into exquisite pleasure.

Chapter Six
    “Jeez, Mr. Briggs,” I muttered in a flat voice, “what a surprise seeing you here.”
    “ No , no , no , Pepper,” Cindy said, exhaling with a loud whoosh . “You’re too stiff. Try it again.”
    I pulled in my gut and clenched my pubes. “ Jeez , Mr. Briggs—”
    “You sound like a robocall,” Cindy said, exasperated. “Now say it with feeling. Give it oomph .” She cleared her throat. “Jeez, Mr. Briggs, what a big surprise seeing little ol’ you here.” She batted her Dolly Partons.
    Her lashes, not her