East End

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East End Page 9

by Nana Malone


  I’d expected to see East Hale at this birthday party. It was the sole reason I’d come.

  You wanted to see him again.

  No. I wanted to talk to him about the Royal Museum of Monaco and his involvement with it.

  You also wanted to take him by surprise.

  Damn right I did. Somehow, he’d found the bug and what, been watching me? Spying? And why the hell did that make me flush all over instead of shiver from fear?

  Because you’re fucked in the head and thinking about how he tastes and not what he’s capable of.

  He might have my father fooled. Or worse, been able to pull strings to get him to back off, but I had to play nice and to be honest he was the least of my problems.

  But still… disappointment. He wasn’t at the party. So I was going to have to go to his turf to talk to him. I exited the loo and accidentally turned left. When I turned around to head back to the party, I say the man dressed in all black easing out of an office.

  The clue that he was up to no good was the balaclava on his head.

  “Hey! Who the hell are you?”

  He turned his head and gave me a glance over his shoulder. And there was something about the way he cocked his head that was smug and arrogant and somewhat amused, and my brain told myself that his lips quirked in just the kind of way that East Hale's did. And then I could see the full resemblance. Exact height, the frame, those ridiculously broad shoulders, tapering into a lean waist, long athletic legs.

  Holy fucking shit.

  It was East.

  For a breath of a moment, we stood locked in place. Frozen. Neither of us breathing. Me in heels and my black mermaid-style cocktail dress, short in front and long in the back with a deep V. Him in the latest cat-burglar chic and a black balaclava.

  Did I go back to the party and get security, or did I go after East and capture him myself? I knew what I needed to do. What the smart choice was. But in that split second, the decision was made for me.

  East, ran.

  And I chased. Because what the hell else was I supposed to do?

  Oh fuck, he was fast.

  Of course, I already knew how fast, but I’d run track and field back in secondary. I was quick, too. I'd even been offered scholarships to go to some unis in the States. Given enough time, I could catch him.

  And I knew every exit out of this place.

  I had researched the blueprints just in case something went wrong. Given my evening gown status, I could just feign that I was looking for a bathroom if I got caught, but God, why did it feel like East knew this place as well as I did?

  Who the fuck is he?

  A thread of something pulled at the back of my mind, but I didn't have time to examine it at the moment. We rounded a corner with him ahead of me by some twenty-five or thirty yards. But my heels slipped on the marble. When my hand caught the edge of the door to stop myself from taking a tumble, it was as if he heard me almost fall, and he slowed, turning slightly. Our gazes met, and when I saw the moss green of his eyes, I knew for certain. I knew it was him. "Whatever you're stealing, give it up."

  This time instead of a smirk under his mask, I knew it was a full-blown grin, and that was all the confirmation I needed. I kicked off my shoes, bent down to scoop them up, and sprinted.

  His eyes went wide, and he ran literally like he stole something. He exited through one of the side doors, into the gardens, and I was on his tail.

  I knew this side of the property led to a massive downward slope and a maze of gardens, lush greenery, and a massive koi pond. Like something on Pemberley.

  Apparently East knew it as well as I did, because instead of taking the steps that led down to the gardens, he bolted down the hillside.

  I gave chase, giving up no quarter.

  I was gaining on him. Closer, closer. And then from the higher vantage point, I launched myself at him. And just in that moment, he turned, his eyes wide. And he stopped running.

  My heart stuttered and stopped. I was going to collide with him.

  When I slammed into his body, he caught me easily, wrapping his arms around me, and we rolled together, his body taking the brunt of the impact as we rolled through the field of the flowers.

  When we landed, I groaned. My bones felt like they'd been shoved into a bag and shaken around. I tried to reach for his mask, and he angled his head away from me, one arm locked around my waist, the other trying to control my two hands. "Take the mask off. I know it's you, East."

  We both stilled, and he blinked at me. "Agent Kinkade, what were you doing in the hallway?"

  "Says the man who is dressed like a thief?"

  "For all you know, this is the latest in black tie," he groaned as he shifted.

  "What did you steal?"

  He shook his head and tried to stand.

  "Oh no you don't." I started to pat him down. And then realized, to my chagrin, that I was sitting astride him, my hips locked over his. And to any passerby, it would look like we were… Oh, God.

  I tried to shove against his chest and stand over him, but something stopped me. And it wasn't his arm around my waist. Something tugged at my dress, and there was a tearing sound.

  We both glanced at where we were joined. He had some kind of hook or something, and it was latched into the knot of my dress. I tried again to free myself, and the dress tore again.

  I glanced down, realizing that the knot of the dress was basically what held the whole damn thing together. If he tore it, my dress would be slit open and my tits would be flapping in the wind.

  He must have realized the same thing that I did in that moment, because he grinned. "Oh, what a predicament. If you move, I see your tits." He licked his bottom lip. "And I can tell you that I have been having some very dirty fantasies about what they look like up close. Are you going to give me a show? As you know Agent Kincade, I do like to watch."

  His voice was low and husky and sexy, and what the fuck was the question?

  My eyes opened wide as I became even more hyper-aware of where else we were joined.

  His chuckle was soft as he laid back down on the grass. "Don't mind him. He can just feel how warm you are. And I can't help but imagine you being wet and all the other ways and reasons we could be in this position."

  "Shut up, you oaf. You have to unlatch me."

  "I don't have to do anything. If you stand up, your dress tears open. And then, well, I'm still clothed, and you're not. So you'll have a lot of explaining to do. And I'll be out." He wiggled, and I heard more tearing sounds. I clapped a hand on his throat. "Stop fucking moving."

  He chuckled. "Ooh, kinky. I think I like it. Squeeze tighter, love."

  My hands were small. I would need two hands to choke him out, and it wouldn't be for fun.

  "You’d like that, wouldn’t you?"

  "I would."

  "You're a thief."

  "No, not really," he mumbled.

  "You're dressed in a balaclava, and you look like you've stolen the fucking crown jewels. What else could you be but a thief?"

  "That answer's a little complicated, and I'm not going to tell you."

  "What the fuck were you doing in Walter Jameson’s office?"

  "Again, princess, my lips are sealed."

  "I can just take it off of you."

  He rolled us over so that I was beneath him, and I gasped with the shock of the positioning. I was even more aware of that bulge.

  Oh, hell.

  I felt him pressed directly against my clit, and I bit back the moan.

  And of course he could feel my body's response to him, and his hips hitched just so. I slammed my teeth over my bottom lip, and I turned away so he wouldn't see.

  "There's no hiding your response to me, love. Pretend it’s involuntary. I only rolled you over like this so maybe it’ll be a little easier to detach us and you still get to stay dressed."

  "I thought you wanted me naked."

  He grinned down at me, his gaze slipping to my breasts and then back to my
eyes. "Oh, trust me, I do. But I like my women willing. And right now, despite the fact that I can feel your heat, I want you undressing for me. I don't want it to be a result of me accidentally tearing your dress. If I do tear your dress, I want you to be well aware it's going to happen. And I want you to want it."

  I swallowed hard. The way he said it, the way his voice went low and mellow, made something pool low in my belly. "Is that what you like? The ones who are like, 'Oh, yes. Sure. Go ahead. Rip this ridiculously expensive dress from my body.'"

  "I like the way you say it. Does that count?"

  "Just get off of me."

  "I would, love, but then you'd be naked in the moonlight. And there's nothing to stop me from leaving you like that."

  My eyes flared wide. "You wouldn't."

  "Am I a gentleman or a thief?"

  "Can't you be a gentleman and a thief?"

  He grinned then. "I beg to differ. But again, I'm not exactly a thief."

  "What did Jameson have that you needed to steal?"

  "Nothing. Who said I stole anything?"

  "You were leaving his office, and you're wearing a black balaclava."

  "That just happened to be my outfit today. I thought it was a masquerade event."

  "You're lying."

  He leaned close. "I also happen to know that no one was supposed to be in that hallway, so what were you doing down there?"

  I flashed my gaze to his. "None of your business." He wouldn’t believe me if I said the other loo was occupied.

  His lips tipped up into a smirk. "Ah, the Interpol agent. Going rogue, are we?"

  "This isn't a movie. I'm not rogue. I was just looking for the loo."

  He chuckled then. "Oh my God, you are a shitty liar. Everything you're feeling shows right here." His fingers indicated along my cheek. I could almost feel the heat of him brushing my face. And I wanted him to touch me.

  "You don't know me at all."

  He leaned close then, and I tipped my chin up. "Are you sure about that? Because right now you're in the moonlight, and I can tell that your pupils have dilated. The way you're hips are rotating just so, I can tell that you can feel my dick. And the way your teeth keep grazing over that bottom lip of yours, it's tempting me to bite it, and I know you want me to. You're just not ready to say the words yet."

  My brain was foggy, and heat pulsed between my thighs. But I wasn’t going down like that. Through my teeth I asked, "What did you steal?"

  He grinned. "God, Agent Kinkade, I feel like this is kind of our foreplay. And if this is the foreplay you like, it's turning me on very, very much. But I'm sure you can feel that, can't you?"

  Hell fucking yeah, I felt that. He was... big.

  Big? That thing's huge.

  Okay, fine, he was huge. And God, was he getting harder? I could feel him twitch against me, and I bit my lip again.

  "Agent Kinkade, if you keep that up, I'm going to start to think that you like this."

  I narrowed my gaze even as my hips lifted. "Get off of me."

  "Then stop writhing against me like you want me to fuck you."

  "I am not writhing." I was totally writhing.

  But then I felt him twitch against me again, and my hips rotated. Stupid hips.

  "Go ahead, tell me another lie, why don't you?"

  "You're rubbing against me. It's not my fault."

  "Mm-hmm, sure. Now if you'd just let me…" His fingers moved between our bodies, and I held my breath. I could feel my breasts straining against the top of the dress. I was going to spill out any second.

  "Fuck, the way the moonlight catches your skin, you look like shimmering gold. Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

  I swallowed hard. "Does this usually work for you as a dating tactic?"

  He chucked again. "You know, you are the most obstinate woman I've ever met. And I don't know why, but fuck, that turns me on."

  I wiggled again. And he moaned this time. "Agent Kinkade, if you would like for me to get us separated, I need you to stop grinding against me and sit fucking still. And I need you to stop biting that bottom lip, because if you do it again, I will kiss you."

  The thing about dares was that I’d never met one I could turn down. I wasn't impulsive, I just didn't like to be told what to do. I didn't want to be controlled. I didn't want anyone manipulating me. I could do what I wanted with my body.

  And, okay, fine, it was involuntary.

  I tried to keep still, I did. But it was as if my subconscious knew what I wanted or was determined to rebel against his command. Either way, I lifted my hips, and he groaned. And then his lips were on mine, his tongue sliding along the seam of my lips, and I gasped. That simple gasp gave him access, and his tongue delved into my mouth and licked against mine as his hips ground into me.

  And instead of shoving him off of me, my hands, my traitorous hands went into his hair and locked him into place. And fuck, what the hell was wrong with me? He was the enemy. And he was clearly up to no good, and God, he tasted so goddamn good. He tasted like champagne and poor decisions and fun and sunshine, and God, I could kiss him forever.

  There was a low mewling sound. Off in the distance. Was it in the distance? No, that was me.

  His moan answered mine as he rolled me on top. I gasped. Because that was a better position, and I could move my hips just how I needed.

  His hands fisted in my hair as he dragged his lips from mine. "That's it. Move how you want."

  "What are we doing?"

  "I have no fucking idea, but don't stop."

  Not that I could. Because this man… He was everything I didn't want. He was everything dangerous. He was a criminal, and I was an Interpol agent, and I could not stay away from him if I tried. Obviously, I was mentally deficient. That was the only answer. But that did not stop me from leaning forward again at his insistence. But he stopped me just before our lips connected, and his gaze met mine. A dark ring showed around his irises now, his pupils dilated. But I knew what he was doing, he was asking my permission. He was waiting for me to pull back, to push him away, to tell him to stop, to tell him to unhook us so I could leave with whatever information he'd stolen. But instead of doing all of those things, I leaned in. I kissed him.

  Because you're a fool.

  And then it was teeth and tongue and lips and moaning and groaning, and his hand was on my ass, squeezing and cupping me, rocking me against his erection. And I couldn't stop. I moaned low, and he grunted. He tore his lips from mine and traced kisses against my jaw. "You're so fucking hot. Just like that. Keep moving."

  And then… Splash. Ice cold on my back. And it shocked me. I blinked and turned away from him. "What the hell?"

  He blinked in surprise as well. And then, his lips turned into a grin and he laughed. More splashing.

  Oh God, it was raining. What the fuck? No, not rain, sprinklers.

  I tried to detach from him, but again, the ripping sound of my dress stopped me.

  "Fuck."

  He rolled me over so that he was above me once again, protecting me from most of the splatter. And he rocked his hips again.

  I should be fighting this, fighting him, but I'd been so close and…

  "You worried someone's going to find you? All wet and rumpled?"

  The right answer was yes. Yes, worried. Yes, concerned. Yes, couldn't go back to the party. Yes, what did you steal?

  But my response was a shake of my head.

  "That's my good girl. You like the idea we could get caught, don't you?"

  Was that true? I’d never once cared for anything public before. Outside of simple pecks and handholding in public, I'd never been with anyone who was particularly affectionate in public. This wasn't affection though. This was raw, hungry; this was something else.

  His hands still fisted in my hair, he rubbed his nose against mine, his lips barely a whisper. "You like being dirty with me, don't you?"

  "I don't like you at all."

  "I know. I don't like you either." And then he
rocked his hips again.

  "East."

  "Agent Kincade."

  "Why do you say my name like that?"

  "Because there's something so sexy about it."

  He rocked his hips again, and God, I was so close, just right there. And then his lips took mine once more, kissing me. As the sprinklers pelted us with ice cold water, I was soaked through. But I was so hot. My skin was burning as he rocked into me over and over, and his one hand scooped under my ass and lifted me closer. And fuck, God, the sparks, a shuddering heat exploded in my body, and I threw my head back. He tore his lips from mine and dragged them along my jaw and then my neck. And then he grunted. "Fuck. Fucking hell. You're so fucking sexy. I want to watch you come again and again. Somewhere private next time. So I can take my time and watch you. And torture you. And drag it out."

  And then his body was lifting from mine. The hook on the front of his suit slipped off of the material of my dress, and he was standing. My dress was in disarray, hiked up, exposing my black silk thong. And his gaze went straight to my splayed-open thighs. Gently he pulled my dress down, and I couldn't move. I just stared up at the night sky. The mist of the sprinklers blocked out some of my view, but I could see the stars up above judging me. And then he did the one thing I didn't expect. He reached a hand down and helped me up.

  "Follow me. I'll get you a jacket. But you're going to have to go to your car."

  "What did you steal?"

  "I can't tell you that."

  He marched up the twenty meters to where I’d dropped my shoes when I jumped at him and picked them up. And then he helped me down the hill.

  I winced when my feet hit the cobblestones, and he picked me up. Easily. Him dressed in all black. Balaclava on. Me dressed in black, soaking wet.

  He carried me through the gardens and across the expansive grounds, to the side exit gate and an SUV. Black.

  I frowned. Were the plates diplomatic? No. Government? Not exactly. He went around to one side, opened a door, and pulled out a blanket of some sort. He brought it to me and wrapped it around my shoulders. My teeth chattered. "Who are you?"

  "I'm East Hale. But you know that. Or do you make out with strangers often?"

 

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