Stark Security, a high-end, high-tech, no-holds barred security firm founded by billionaire Damien Stark and security specialist Ryan Hunter has one mission—do whatever it takes to protect the innocent. Only the best in the business are good enough for Stark Security. Men with dangerous skills. Men with something to prove. Brilliant, charismatic, sexy as hell, they have no time for softness—they work hard and they play harder. They’ll take any risk to get the job done. But what they won’t do is lose their hearts. Or will they? Enjoy a sneak peek from the latest story in J. Kenner’s Stark Security series, out this week.
Excerpt
For a moment, he holds me tight, our eyes locked on each other. I feel my heart pick up tempo, and I wait, craving more. But then he lets go, stepping back before I can work up the nerve to take what I want.
“Then we should go.” I think I hear an edge in his voice. The kind of edge I want to hear. To feel.
But it’s probably just my imagination.
I lecture myself about getting over this growing crush during the entire walk. And even though it’s at least three miles, we barely talk at all.
Then he stops in front of a gray brick building in a neighborhood that’s only slightly dodgy. I hold my breath, certain this can’t be what I think it is.
Except it is.
It’s an apartment. It’s our apartment. A tiny seventh-floor walkup already occupied by a zillion roaches who scurry when Maxim opens the door. It’s a studio with barely a kitchen and a bathroom that rivals the worst public toilets in the city. There are five locks on the door, one window, and one very saggy looking bed.
And all our stuff sits in a pile in one corner.
“This is ours?”
He nods, and I know him well enough to read his expression—he’s nervous as hell about whether I like it.
I do.
“This is amazing,” I whisper. “How—”
A grin lights up his handsome face. “We make a hell of a team. I’ve been saving for the deposit, but with as much cash as we have stockpiled and how much we’ve been scoring weekly…” He trails off with a shrug. “We can afford it.”
“Wow.”
He glances toward the bed. “I know there’s just one. But I figure we shove a foam mattress under the bed, and at night I’ll just pull it out. Easy-peasy.”
I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes on the bed. “We have to be even more careful now,” I tell him. “If they catch us, they’ll separate us.”
“Never.” He moves to my side, then takes my hands. “Best friends for life, remember?”
I swallow. “I remember.” But I’m speaking to the floor.
“Hey.” His voice is heavy with worry. “What’s wrong? You do like it, right?”
“I love it.” I can barely say the words through the tears that are clogging my throat. “I just…” I trail off, terrified of saying the words.
“Cami?” He squeezes my hands. “Hey, you can tell me. What’s wrong?”
I tell myself not to be a coward. I basically flip the bird to the cops every day, and I’m worried about a few words?
But I am. I really am.
“You’re starting to—”
I lift my head and blurt it out: “What if I don’t want to be friends anymore?”
Pain—something close to terror—clouds his eyes.
“No, no,” I say, frantic now. “No, I don’t mean like that. I mean that I want—”
I cut myself off, terrified he doesn’t want it, too.
“What?” His voice is the most gentle I’ve ever heard. Even more gentle than the day we met.
I lift my shoulders, but say nothing.
“Hey” he says, tilting my chin so that I have to look at him. “I want it, too.”
At first, I can’t process what he’s said. Then I try to form words so that I can ask him if he means what I hope he means. But I don’t have to ask, because now his mouth is on mine, and he’s kissing me, and it’s the most wonderful feeling ever. I don’t want to stop, but my knees are weak, and I pull gently away, my heart pounding as I whisper. “We need a couch.”
It’s only when he laughs that I recognize the worried expression that now fades. He must realize, too, because he shrugs, looking more shy than I’ve ever seen him. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”
“Never.” I squeeze his hand. “But my legs don’t work when you kiss me like that.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “That makes me sound pretty awesome.”
I bite my lower lip and lift a shoulder. “You already know you are. To me, anyway.”
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Stark Security - Recommended Reading Order
(standalone stories with interconnected characters)
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