by KaLyn Cooper
He bent down and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m not going to fuck you. I’m going to make love to you because I love you more than those three little words can ever express.”
“I like those three little words, especially when they come from your heart.” She pulled his head down until their lips met. The kiss started out lovingly but soon accelerated into unbridled passion. Without even realizing it, he was thrusting into her with a need so desperate for her to take them to that special place only they could go together.
Her entire body shook as she squeezed his biceps and called his given name, “Alejandro.”
Maybe it was the way she rolled the r in the accent of her South American childhood that triggered the most primal response in his body as he emptied himself unguardedly into her.
As he fell into oblivion, he pulled her into his arms and rolled to the side. His only regret was the same as always, he couldn’t give her the child she wanted so desperately. It wasn’t his fault, nor truly hers. A doctor, years before, had stripped her of that feminine ability. If it was the last thing on earth he did for her, they would have a child when she was ready. Blonde curls of the bouncing little girl filled his mental vision as he succumbed to sleep.
Hours after stuffing themselves with lasagna, Alex’s cock was softening inside Kat as they lay in bed, replete from another round of lovemaking. He would never get enough of her. Stroking her bare back, he counted her vertebrae as she was curled into him, her face buried in his neck.
Her shoulders started to shake.
Was she crying? Shit. What had he done? She couldn’t be crying. Katlin Callahan didn’t cry. Even as they buried her husband, his best friend Tyler Malone, he’d never seen a tear fall from those riveting blue eyes of hers. Not since high school when Ty had dumped her and Alex had held her, picking up the pieces of her broken heart once again. Damn Ty. Then and now.
Alex tried to see her face but she stuck with him as he rolled onto his back. She sprawled across his chest completely hiding her face with her hair. Her whole body quivered. He stroked her back from shoulder to rounded derrière and back up, trying to reassure her. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
The shaking increased.
He wrapped both arms around her and held her tight. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. But you have to tell me what’s wrong.” Damn, this was going to be bad. He braced himself for anything, everything.
She lifted her head and looked him square in the face…then burst into giggles.
Hell, she wasn’t crying. She was laughing.
With a mischievous look on her face, trying desperately to hold in her laughter, she cocked an eyebrow. “So you’re going to fix it, no matter what it is?”
Feeling like he was getting suckered into doing something he’d probably regret, he cautiously answered, “I’ll try.” That was the best he was going to commit to considering the circumstances. “But you have to tell me what’s wrong, if anything.” He added the qualifier at the last second.
Every muscle inside her body tightened as she tried to hold in the giggle. He wasn’t sure which pleased him more, a glimpse of the young high school girl he’d fallen in love with fifteen years ago, or the fact the harder she tried to control her giggling, the tighter her inner walls clamp around his cock still buried deep inside her. Each stimulated an intimate part of him.
He caught himself smiling as he pushed her for an answer. “What’s so funny?”
Her burst of laughter lightened his soul.
“Your chest hair is tickling my nipples,” she admitted and laughed out loud as she looked down at her jiggling boobs.
Dark pink nipples, the color of baby roses, bounced on his chest. The sight made him hard again. He wondered if she’d be up for round three. She was supposed to go running in the morning with the rest of her team.
“My chest hair was never a problem before.” He really didn’t like the idea of shaving his chest. If it was anything like a beard, it started to itch when it reached about quarter of an inch. He knew some men waxed their chest hair off but that sounded even worse than shaving.
Sitting up, she straddled his hips, never releasing him. She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest running her fingers through his dark hair. “You never had chest hair like this back then.”
Katlin would know. Their relationship was new, yet old at the same time. For short time in college they’d been lovers, both ending up marrying someone else. Although his marriage to Rachelle lasted barely long enough to be sure his daughter carried his last name, she and Kat had remained friends. As Jenny’s godmother, Katlin wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I don’t think I’ve told you this before, but I like this new body of yours.” She leaned down and kissed him, then giggled again.
A glance to where their chests met confirmed why. She rolled her back so her nipples plowed through his chest hair.
His cock grew even more as her muscles grabbed and released him. With one finger he traced the scallops of her breasts before smoothing his palms down her back and cupping her ass. “I like your curves.” He squeezed her butt cheeks. “This is the body of a woman, no longer the teenage girl I once knew.”
She shook her head. “I’m definitely not that young fool anymore.” She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. “Shall I take care of this before we go to sleep?” She asked as she lifted herself up and down on his now hardened cock.
With one hand he cupped her breast and with the other he pressed his thumb on her clit. Her ragged breath might have been consent but he needed to hear her words. “Want to go for number four?”
“Absolutely. I’m banking orgasms.” She didn’t need to say it because they both knew she would be gone again soon. She drew her body upward then came down on him so hard he touched the entrance to her womb.
He thrust upward as she came down on him. He, too, wanted to remember every single slide into her because it could be months before she returned this time. He reached up and took her breasts, one in each hand, rolling the nipples the way she liked it.
She laughed and all of her internal muscles hugged his pulsing cock. He lightly pinched her nipples and she gasped. “I don’t hear you complaining, and you didn’t punch me, so I take it you like that.”
“No complaints.” She leaned forward so he could take one of her breasts in his mouth. When he nipped her nipple, she came on broken cries of release. He followed her over the edge as she collapsed on top of him.
It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but when she crawled off him she kept going right into the shower. He followed her, enjoying the view.
When he stepped into the hot spray, she shook her head. “I’m too tired for shower sex, and I scheduled a forty-five-minute team work out in the morning since we can’t run outside anymore. Even though everyone’s heading in a different direction, I want us together in the morning for PT.”
He laid his lips on hers for quick kiss and turned his body toward the second showerhead. “I know.” Soaping his short hair, he faced her. “I’m sticky, too, and needed to wash off.”
He took the fluffy thing she showered with and squirted her soap onto it. Working up a lather, he washed between her legs. “Sex without a condom is messy. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.” She leaned in and kissed him. “There’s no need for you to wear a condom. I can’t get pregnant, and we’re both clean. There’s no reason we can’t enjoy skin to skin.”
He yanked her body to his and crashed his mouth on hers. Releasing her, he pulled her tight and just held her. “Christ, I love you.”
She wrapped her arms around him and said the words he didn’t hear often enough. “I love you, too.”
When they crawled back in bed to catch a few hours’ sleep, he remembered her hesitation. He couldn’t let it go. “Earlier tonight, did you have qualms about making love again? I don’t ever want to pressure you into sex.”
She sighed and was so qu
iet he wasn’t sure she was going to answer, even though she hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
But he needed to know. “You said you would tell me later. It’s later.”
She grinned sardonically. Taking a deep breath, she visibly braced herself.
Oh, shit. This was going to be one of those conversations he’d regret.
“You didn’t pressure me into anything.” She kissed him before continuing. “If you remember I was sitting on top of you.” She glanced away and blushed.
Yes. Katlin Callahan blushed. He couldn’t believe it but pink had actually risen to her cheeks. The woman who could coldly face down any terrorist on the planet couldn’t look at him as she talked about sex. At that moment, she resembled the young naïve girl who’d lived overseas all of her life then been thrown into a school for geniuses in Miami. That teenager had blushed often.
Alex ran a finger over the side of her face, brushing away a stray strand of golden hair.
When her eyes returned to meet his, he saw the determination in them.
“I’d thought about turning around and riding you backward cowgirl. I’d read that some men like it that way.” She watched him for a reaction.
It took a lot to school his face. He loved sex with Kat any way possible. “Do you like it that way?” Say yes. Please say yes.
“Yeah. I like sex lots of ways.” The side of her mouth quirked up again like it had earlier. “At one point I thought if I was better in bed, maybe Ty wouldn’t look for sex elsewhere. So I bought all these books: The Joy of Sex, Kama Sutra, Sex for Dummies, and a few more. I started on page one and worked my way through them…and the son of a bitch still cheated.”
Alex pulled her to him feeling the warmth of her body against his, chest to chest, hips to hips, thigh to thigh. He had no idea why his best friend couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, especially when married to such a wonderful woman.
This conversation was just too heavy for the middle of the night. “Do you still have those books? Although I think I’m pretty good at sex, I might be able to learn a thing or two. Maybe.”
He felt her laugh then she lightly smacked his shoulder. “You are good at sex. And you might be able to learn a thing or two.”
He casually smacked her bare ass. “Go to sleep.”
Chapter 6
Heading for the executive elevator in the employee parking garage, Jack Ashworth glanced back over his shoulder at the new Mercedes SUV he had just left in his designated slot. He grinned at the considerably less expensive American-made crossover vehicles driven by his bosses, the Secretary and Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security. He’d been at the department before either received their presidential appointments, and would be there protecting the nation long after the next election.
Let them think they’re in charge.
He knew better.
Jack looked at his Cartier watch as he stepped into the elevator, calculating to the second how late he was going to be for the meeting where he would see his Katlin again for the first time in forty-one days. Sure, they’d talked and video-conferenced, but that was work, and he was always that there. Oh, Wolf wouldn’t dare show his face during a Section 7 conference call, but Jack knew he was close.
What had really put him in a foul mood that morning was the forced waste time with the department’s psychiatrist. The director himself had mandated Jack see the shrink about his…obsession…with Katlin Callahan. He wasn’t obsessed. She was his, plain and simple.
He could, and would, forgive her affair with Alex Wolf. The man was all wrong for her. He had no class, breeding, nor a sophisticated upbringing. A rough neighborhood and public schools couldn’t compare to Jack’s Washington-elite parents and private schools where he’d shared classes with the children of ambassadors, princes, and dictators.
Jack could give her everything she deserved. He already knew she’d be the perfect wife after pretending to be married during an operation last year. He had fallen in love with her and that would never change. Wolf would fuck up soon enough. It was his pattern, and then Katlin would come running to him.
Twenty-three minutes late. Jack scowled at his watch as he exited toward the executive offices. He glanced at the large double doors at the end of the hallway. It was all the fucking director’s fault. Jack didn’t need to see a shrink. He needed his woman back. Glancing at his expensive watch once again, he estimated he would see Katlin in thirty-six minutes.
His dick started to stiffen. Christ, walking into work with a hard on was the last thing he needed. Remembering she wasn’t his at the moment, drained the blood right out of it. He didn’t dare show his frustration of the situation around the office and certainly not with a psychiatrist. That morning, though, he thought he’d given the shrink enough bullshit that hopefully he would soon be released from their twice-weekly, hour-long visits.
When Jack entered his outer office, the ever-diligent Mrs. Ward quickly disposed of whomever was on the phone. “Good morning, Mr. Ashford. A summation of all your morning calls is waiting for you in the usual computer file. General Lyon is running late, so your Korean briefing has been moved to this afternoon. I rescheduled your meeting with the assistant director of operations for eleven o’clock and your morning briefing for eleven fifteen.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He’d have to come up with another reason to see Katlin. Well, she was back on duty for the first time in a month. He could use that as an excuse.
“Anything I need to handle immediately?” He strode toward the sanctity of his private office.
“No, sir.” She lifted the ringing phone and answered succinctly as he closed his office door.
As he slid into his executive chair, the power of his position enveloped him. He was Jack Ashworth, Director of Operations for Homeland Security. He controlled the lives, and deaths, of hundreds of people all over the world. Section 7 was the most covert operation on the planet. His teams were not only lethal, but they were able to plant blame for a leader’s death on whomever he decided. On his word, and the signature of the director which was little more than a rubberstamp, he could have anyone in the world killed.
But recently someone had tried to reciprocate.
Several months ago, someone had planted a bomb on the sleek black plane used exclusively by Katlin’s team. Fortunately, the explosive had been discovered and the mercenaries hired to plant the bomb had been captured. Jack grinned at the memory of torturing the fuckers. Regrettably, the one who might have known who issued the contract, died too soon. The man just couldn’t handle pain.
The second man was little more than a patsy, hired to impersonate a Marine for a few hours. Easy enough to do since he’d served in the USMC for two years before receiving a dishonorable discharge. No one would ever find either body…unless Jack decided he wanted it discovered.
Even though that Army Delta Force team had successfully killed Khalid Junyard, there were still more brothers out there who might decide that they are the true Caliphate, a direct descendent of Mohammed who needs to return his people to the ninth century. Jack was over Muslim fundamentalist extremists. If they wanted to take their followers and disappear peacefully into the desert, more power to them. But try to kill one of his agents, especially Katlin Callahan, and the man issuing the contract was dead.
On the way to the Operations Center, Jack made a mental note to point Christine in that direction since she had originally discovered the contract for Nassar al Jamil’s assassins. The ramifications that the true mission of the Ladies of Black Swan might have been exposed made chills run down his back, pucker his asshole, and grab his balls. The thought that Katlin might still be a target scared the shit out of him.
He had to put an end to this. Now.
The morning flew by as he and his top analysts dug deep into the intelligence for clues as to who might still target Katlin and her team. At five minutes to eleven, Jack’s phone buzzed, warning of his next meeting. Wrapping up their discussion and making assignments took him longer than he’d
anticipated. As he passed Mrs. Ward’s desk, the very ambitious Timothy Stutsman sprang to his feet and followed Jack into his office.
“Shut the door,” he instructed as he slid into the leather chair behind his immaculately clean desk. He gripped his mouse, and it lit up from within scanning his hand. When the homeland security logo appeared on the middle screen, Jack spoke his name and typed in his password of the day. All three screens came to life.
The monitor to the right scrolled information in two columns. Occasionally something was highlighted or typed in red. The left computer monitor was filled with a world map and colorful blips. He would come back to those during his next meeting. First, he had to deal with his next in command, the assistant director of operations.
Looking up at the man in his late thirties who practically stood at attention in front of Jack’s desk, he nodded once. They had worked together long enough that Timothy immediately started into his report.
Listening, but multitasking, Katlin’s name on the right screen caught his eye. Good. She was researching her next mission. He tamped down the urge to leave immediately and walk by her glassed-in cubicle, just to see her for himself. She’d been away far too long for his liking.
Timothy droned on about new potential threats to the United States, but Jack would pay more attention in the next meeting.
The dreaded name of Alex Wolf scrolled by.
“Hold one, Timothy.” Jack clicked on the name of his nemesis. The technical department had enough audio in the form of words, as well as intonation, to replicate Alex’s voice. Satisfaction swelled within him for placing the secret wiretaps. Sometimes inevitability needed a nudge.
The message continued to say they also had enough recordings of someone named Aleta Flores. She was a state’s attorney in Chicago and a regular booty call for Wolf. Jack wondered how often Alex traveled to the Windy City, and if Katlin had any idea of his activities there.