by Elle Thorne
She studied him. He rubbed his jaw, on the left side, his tell.
Why is he lying?
“Why doesn’t your family know you’re on leave?”
His eyes gave it away. The slightest blink. “It’s none of their business.”
She nodded. Who was this new and guarded Jonah? Had she really hurt him that much? “Why are you on leave?”
“It’s none of your business either.” More jaw muscle movement. “How do you know I was on— Never mind. Let’s discuss this somewhere other than my family’s Christmas dinner, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine. Let’s go somewhere.”
“After this. I still live in the same place.”
“After this.” She knew where. It was the same apartment they’d shared their lives, secrets, hearts, souls. Now she’d have to walk in and pretend that never happened. And pretend he wasn’t still the only man for her.
Fuck Jonah Romanoff.
Chapter Three
Jonah paced his apartment. He’d been here for an hour and then some. And she’d left his aunt and uncle’s an hour before he did, making some excuse about an early morning.
Isn’t she coming?
Maybe she made up that excuse as a means to avoid coming over to talk to him.
A part of him was crestfallen—okay, okay—all of him was. It wasn’t a crime to admit he still had feelings for her.
But I shouldn’t. She dumped me.
He wanted an answer to that. He’d ask her when she came by. He deserved an explanation.
Maybe she’s not coming by.
Why did it matter to him? Why was it…
God, when I need my bear the most…
A knock at the door drew him up short. It was a soft knock, yet loaded with trepidation and an assortment of other emotions.
Really? I’ve lost it. Now, I’m interpreting knocks on doors?
I’m a regular door whisperer.
He pulled the door open, it didn’t budge.
What the fuck?
He unlocked it, pulled again.
He’d lost it clearly—so confused by Fiona’s presence he was forgetting to unlock doors.
I’m so screwed.
She stood before him. Her pale skin ruddy from the cool New York December temperatures. Her cheeks pink from the wind’s bite, her lips red from the cold.
And she’s no longer mine.
He pushed the thought away.
“Jonah, I—”
His hand snaked out with the speed of a rattler, locking on her wrist, jerked her into his apartment, nudging the door closed with his foot.
She licked her lower lip and he knew she just had to be giving off that wonderful scent of hers.
Fuck the luck to not be able to scent her.
His cock pressed against his jeans insistently.
Her lips were still parted, but she wasn’t finishing her sentence. Instead her hands shot out and up, surrounding his neck, pulling his face closer to hers.
Fiona thrust her tongue into his mouth, completely demolishing any resolve Jonah had not to kiss her. His cock hardened in a flash, becoming a rigid rod between them. He jerked her body against his, twirled them around, pinned her to the wall with this frame.
He pulled her coat, stripping her of it.
Mine. Mine. Mine. The word reverberated in his mind, a place that had been a confusing and hollow empty void, now that his bear wasn’t around.
Air made its way into his body, though he’d be damned if he knew how because it felt like his breathing apparatus had shut down. In fact, it felt like everything had shut down and the world was traveling in slow motion around him.
Time had frozen, traffic outside had become a distant sound, not penetrating the bubble being with Fiona created.
Though her body was pinned against the wall, she pressed her mound against his cock.
A fierce tug on her top sent buttons scattering, revealing a dark red bra topped with lace. He licked his lips at the vision, her full mounds overflowing the generous cups and her nipples, hard buttons that pressed the satin half of the bra outward.
He groaned at the sight of her bounty, and raised a hand, cupping one breast, allowing his thumb to tease the tempting peak.
Her moan sent him into a new dimension. His other hand traveled lower, releasing her pants and tugging at them while she shimmied her hips until the fabric was pooled around her feet.
The need to be in her was overwhelming, driving Jonah forward with a raging intensity. He rubbed his body against hers, breathing deeply. He pressed his swollen rod against her mound, and felt the evidence of her desire instantly.
He lowered himself, pushing her legs apart, trailing his tongue down her soft skin, leaving feathery kisses on her flesh.
He settled his face between her legs, letting his hot breath touch her lips, caressing the clean shaven area. Just the way he liked her. Bare and ready to be eaten.
As soon as she felt his breath on her nether lips, she sunk her fingertips into his scalp, digging them in, scoring the skin, breaking flesh.
It drove him into a more primal state of need. He slipped a finger against her wet slit, moisture slickening his digit. Raising his other hand, he spread her open, wide, enjoying the view of her beautiful pink and red pussy.
God, but he’d missed this woman, her body. It was perfect. Perfectly curved, just for him. Her pussy crafted to be his.
Fuck.
He unhooded her clit, the bud glistening in the dim light. He drew in the pink-tipped core into his mouth, sucking it, flicking with his tongue while she drove her mound into his face, grinding herself against him.
He licked from below her slit all the way to her clit, not allowing his tongue to slip in more than a millimeter, enjoying the tortured moan she made.
His cock throbbed in his pants, painfully reminding him how badly he wanted her.
Jonah pushed it away. First, he wanted her pleasure.
“So delicious. Like the ripest strawberries,” he murmured, the juices dripping down his face the way biting into an overripe juicy fruit would.
“Please, Jonah. Don’t make me wait.” She ground into his face, moving her body back and forth, seeking release.
Her clit was swollen with desire, her lips soaking with her need for him. He flicked his tongue, back and forth, over and over, while her torso threw into a spasm.
He shoved two fingers in her and she contracted her muscles around his fingers, releasing her flow into his palm, riding his hand while his tongue flicked at her clit.
He lapped her creaminess, his tongue slipping in with his fingers seeking purchase toward her G-spot.
He could do no more. He couldn’t take another moment of her sweet climaxes without joining with her.
He pushed her down, freeing his cock with one hand while the other held him up, so his weight wouldn’t crush her.
* * *
Fiona’s legs spread wide and wrapped around Jonah’s hips. Jonah’s thick shaft with its deliciously wide mushroom head pressed against her, nudging for entrance. She arched her back, pressing him in the slightest bit.
“Fuck me, Jonah. Take me.” Punish me for walking out on the best thing that’s ever happened to me. For walking out on my mate.
He surged forward with a mighty thrust, sinking his girth deeply inside, pushing her to a new limit, stretching her body, taking her to a new level of pleasure merged with pain. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails into his back while he plunged into her, deeper and deeper, over and over.
He wrapped an arm around her, lifted her, and carried her to the bed, and within seconds she was on top of him, his pulsing cock still buried within. She moved her hips, rocking and rolling on him, grinding, driving him so deep it forced tiny gasps from her lips with each powerful thrust he made upward.
His hands on her hips, pressed her against him firmly, locking them together. He pumped like a man driven by demons. She returned each thrust with an equally powerful response.
<
br /> Never so powerful as this. Never so awed by anything as she was by the connection she had with this man.
He roared her name, drew her down for a kiss, his roar sealed off, she swallowed the sound of his passion as she released her own scream into his mouth.
He exploded, rooting deep into her body, his hardness twitching, his body becoming stiff as his heated stream jetted forth against her back walls. She exploded with him, her own body straightening, muscles rigid, her body refusing to relax as an orgasm ripped throughout.
They collapsed, and he nuzzled her, his cock still hard, still deep. She lay on his rippled stomach and hard chest, hot tears giving evidence to the amount of emotions this man still stirred within her.
“We shouldn’t have done this. Shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
She picked up her clothing and slunk out the door, feeling every bit as if she’d betrayed him twice.
Chapter Four
Jonah couldn’t get last night off his mind. It brought back their history in a flood that overwhelmed the crisis he was in the middle of. He showered, shaved, dressed, and headed into the office.
He’d been on leave for a month—true.
His family wasn’t aware—also true.
That was the least of which he hadn’t shared with his family.
He frowned at the man who faced him in the mirror. Who was this man? Who’d he become? A man with secrets. A man who’d pulled away from his family. The Romanoffs had always been close. Always. Until this.
I can’t talk to them about this. I can’t talk to anyone about it. I’ve got to figure it out and sort it myself.
An hour later he strode into the offices of InterForce Unit 13—the paranormal unit, unbeknownst to their human counterparts.
Of course, Unit 13 had the track record for results. Preternatural abilities came in handy. Almost all cases were closed, even the most challenging. Unit 13 dealt with any paranormal activity they didn’t want humans to be aware of. He shouldn’t be back at work, but he knew asking for more time off would raise eyebrows, maybe even instigate talk. He didn’t need that. Then there would be questions. Suspicions.
So he was here. Here to fake it. Here to muddle through the workdays and hope his situation didn’t endanger anyone.
“Romanoff, good to have you back.” InterForce Assistant Director Eric Vargas gave him a clipped good morning and headed toward the meeting room with a steaming cup of coffee. “You have two minutes to get your own cup. Meeting time. You’ll get to meet your new AIC.” Agent in Charge.
“What happened to Ford?”
“New assignment,” Vargas tossed out over his shoulder.
Jonah headed toward the coffee machine, hoping whoever replaced Ford would be as good. The last thing he needed to complicate his life would be an asshole who micromanaged him.
He’d just taken his seat, along with the other dozen members of Unit 13, all of whom had welcomed him back, with the exception of one. Jonah wouldn’t even look at that asshole. He didn’t have the energy to give douchebags any headspace.
Vargas, already at his seat, shuffled papers. “We have a new case—new to us, not new to InterForce. It’s been escalated to Unit 13.” More paper shuffling, as if he was stalling. “You have a new AIC. She’s running late, but in the building.”
Jonah inhaled the coffee’s aroma, closed his eyes while he took the scent in.
“Sorry, I’m late.” Fiona’s voice was breathless.
Jonah’s eyes flew open and he spewed coffee, dousing the tabletop, causing agents to jump back.
“Fuck,” he hissed, and looked up.
Fiona was watching him, expressionless.
“Romanoff, you okay?”
“Something stuck in my throat.” My fucking heart. That’s when Jonah noticed douchebag checking out Fiona. An inferno of rage pulsed through his body.
She’s not mine anymore. Unable to watch the idiot making mooneyes at Fiona, he turned his gaze away from douchebag Doherty.
Vargas stood. “Team, meet Fiona Forester. Your new AIC.” He shook Fiona’s hand. “I hope the trip wasn’t too rough.”
“I came into town a couple of days ago. Had to get my bearings.”
Was that Jonah’s imagination or did her voice crack, just the slightest bit.
Of the team assembled, aside from Jonah, Doherty was the only one who knew Fiona from before. The rest of the team was new, including Vargas.
“I was thinking maybe you’d want some one-on-one time with your team. Lunch perhaps?”
Fiona nodded. “Good idea.”
“I scheduled you and Romanoff for today. Tomorrow Doherty. They’re the most senior on the team.”
“Lunch today?” Jonah’s mind was working overtime trying to think of a way to get out of this. “That’s—”
“Problem, Romanoff?”
Jonah shook his head. “No, sir. No problem at all. Was going to say it’s a great day.” To fucking fall off the edge of the world and get lost in a chasm.
Chapter Five
Fiona couldn’t have said what was discussed at the meeting. Good thing the secretary was taking minutes. She’d have to review them.
She’d compounded complications when she’d slept with Jonah last night.
Slept hell. The last thing we did was sleep.
And then she’d slipped away like a thief in the night.
“That’s all I have.” Vargas looked at his watch. “Lunchtime.”
Fiona stood. Jonah wasn’t looking at her; he studied his cup of coffee as if it were a new species of animal and he was charged with naming it.
“Lunch?” She knew her voice cracked in the middle of the word, turning it into two syllables.
“Sure.” He pushed his chair in. “Meet you downstairs in the garage.”
And with that, he was gone.
Fiona waited by the garage elevator. When it opened, he strode off, all business, his steps brisk and attitude chilly. She struggled to keep up with his long legs.
“Jonah.”
“No. Not until we’re well away from here.” He shook his head, though all she could see was the back of it. “Last time I said that… oh, wait that was last night, when…”
“Stop. Don’t say it.” She glanced around to be sure no one was in the vicinity. A shifter would have no problem picking up what they said, even across the garage.
He opened the car door for her. She got in, let him close it behind her. The slam of it made her lurch in her seat.
Twenty minutes later, they were at Central Park, walking in the cold, making her realize just how unprepared she’d been for the New York temperatures. She hadn’t unpacked all her old clothing.
Jonah pulled up short. “You have some explaining to do.” In winter’s chill, his breath left a white cloud between them.
She studied a couple across from them, holding hands, completely immersed in each other. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Let’s see. First of all. Why are you here? Why didn’t you tell me things last night? Why did you slip away without as much as a word? Why’d last night happen?” A laugh slipped out.
A cold, derisive, mocking laugh that drove a knife into her heart.
“Not that I don’t enjoy a fuck. Who wouldn’t, right?”
“Don’t, Jonah. Please. Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” His face was carved from stone, his countenance unyielding.
“Don’t cheapen last night like that.”
“Me? Cheapen it? I’m not the one who threw away everything we had. I’m not the one who ran out like a coyote last night.”
“I. Did. Not. Cheapen. It.” She emphasized every word with openhanded strikes on his chest.
He caught her hands. Didn’t release her. Stared down at her as if he could see into her soul.
Once upon a time I could.
A man approached. “What’s going on here? Miss, is he hurting you?”
Jonah released her hands. Quickly, both of them flashed the
ir badge at him.
“Sorry, Officers. I wasn’t sure.”
They nodded him away.
Jonah locked eyes with her again. He and his bear used to be able to see into Fiona and her falcon’s souls.
Her falcon shrieked a resounding question in Fiona’s mind. “What happened to your bear?”
“Who said anything happened to my bear? And what happened to minding your own damned business?”
“I’m not asking as your friend, Jonah. I’m not asking as your former lover, either. I’m asking as your AIC. The entire team depends on its members. If there is something going on with your bear, you need to tell me.”
“Nothing.” He rubbed his jaw.
“I’m responsible for the unit. If something’s wrong with your bear… it could endanger all of us during a case.”
* * *
Jonah grimaced. How could he tell her? He’d lose his position with InterForce. He’d lose everything he’d worked his ass off for.
Fiona’s phone buzzed. She made a face. “Vargas.”
“The arms dealer we’ve been trying to get our hands on just surfaced.” She memorized the address he gave her. “The team will meet you there.”
“Be right there.”
She turned to Jonah. “This talk isn’t over.”
“Damned straight, it’s not. You’ve left everything unanswered.”
We both have. Except I won’t be able to tell you the things I want to.
No, she couldn’t tell him. He’d hate her.
Kinda like he hates me now.
They pulled into the warehouse at the address Vargas gave her, to the sound of gunfire.
A lot of gunfire.
Jonah unsheathed his weapon. She took hers piece out too.
“Ready?”
Jonah didn’t answer her. Instead, he opened his door and darted out, behind a barrel.
“Stay put,” she told him. She would slip around the other side of the building and shift into her falcon where she could reconnoiter and make an assessment. “No heroics,” she yelled, running around the building’s corner.