Page 43 of Undercover Hearts

"It could be," Jenna acknowledged. "But our cover is solid."

Michelle drained half her glass. "Kendall suspects something. Her instincts are good."

"And our performance is better." Jenna moved closer, reducing the careful distance Michelle had maintained. "We've convinced everyone else."

"Trust that could evaporate instantly if Kendall finds any inconsistency." Michelle set the empty glass down.

"There are no flaws in our cover," Jenna said softly, stepping closer. "Not in how we present ourselves. Not in how we interact."

She entered the invisible boundary Michelle had established, close enough that Michelle could detect her subtle perfume.

"Our chemistry is the most convincing aspect of our cover. Even Kendall can't deny what she sees between us."

Michelle knew she should step back but remained motionless, caught in Jenna's gravity.

"Chemistry isn't enough," Michelle said, her voice rough. "Not against an organization that's killed to protect their operation."

"No," Jenna agreed. "But it's what will get us through the next thirty-six hours."

Her fingers brushed Michelle's arm. "You're carrying too much tension. It's visible."

"I'm fine." Michelle's body betrayed her—muscles coiled tight, shoulders rigid.

"You're not," Jenna countered. "And visible stress endangers our cover."

"Then I'll manage it," Michelle said, stepping away. "That's my responsibility."

"You don't have to manage everything alone."

"Yes, I do." The words escaped before Michelle could stop them. "Three women are dead, and if we don't handle this perfectly, we could join them."

The fear that had been building all day finally found its voice—fear not for herself but for Jenna.

"This isn't just about the operation anymore," Jenna said softly. "It hasn't been for days."

"It has to be," Michelle insisted, voice threatening to crack.

"You know that's not true." Jenna moved toward her again. "Whatever's between us matters."

Michelle shook her head. "We can't do this. Not now."

"I think now is exactly when we need to do this. Before we walk into that retreat."

She stood directly before Michelle. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you don't want me."

Something in Michelle finally broke. With a sound caught between frustration and surrender, she closed the distance between them, hands framing Jenna's face as she claimed her mouth in a kiss that contained none of the hesitation of their previous encounters.

This wasn't a performance for surveillance or release of tension. This was Michelle finally acknowledging what she'd been fighting.

Jenna responded immediately, drawing their bodies flush against each other. Michelle walked her backward until they hit the wall, never breaking the kiss. Her hands found the zipper of Jenna's dress, tugging it down with none of her usual careful control.

The fabric slipped off Jenna’s shoulders, pooling at her feet. Michelle dropped to her knees without a word, eyes flicking up to meet hers—a silent question Jenna answered with a nod and the soft parting of her thighs.

Michelle kissed up the inside of her leg, slow and deliberate, pausing just before reaching the place Jenna most needed her most. Her breath was hot, her hands firm—one spreading her open, the other sliding two fingers inside in a single motion.

Jenna’s head fell back against the wall with a gasp.

Michelle curled her fingers upward, finding the spot that made Jenna’s knees tremble, while her mouth finally closed over her clit, her tongue circling, flicking, sucking in a smooth rhythm.