by Pamela Clare
“Most men do.”
His hands moved to massage her shoulders, which were still sore from hanging by her wrists. “Did any of them ever physically hurt you?”
She couldn’t help but moan as he began to work away the knots. She let her eyes close. “Yes—but none as badly as you.”
More than that, none of them had ever hurt her emotionally, where the damage was worse and the pain seemed to last.
“I really am sorry, Holly. If I could do it again . . .”
“You can’t. I know that.”
“What would you have done in my place?” he asked.
Holly thought about that. Twice her CO had set her up with US citizens, and she’d gone ahead with the missions without a second thought. If he had ordered her to move in next door to someone and pretend to become lovers, she supposed she’d have done it. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do. A loyal officer like you? You’d have carried out your mission.”
So he’d seen through her.
Then she remembered what he’d said yesterday after he’d kissed her, that wonderful, brutal kiss.
I never needed Viagra with you, honey. But, you’re right, it was awful, not because I didn’t want to fuck you, but because I did.
“What you said yesterday.” It was getting hard to think, his soothing hands and the Benadryl making her so very sleepy. “Did you mean you wanted me, but you didn’t want to want me?”
“If I understand your question, the answer is yes.”
Holly heard him, and with her next breath fell fast asleep.
* * *
Nick sat beside her for a time, watched Holly sleep.
Had he wanted her? Hell, yeah, he had, even when he’d thought she was a criminal. And now? He wanted her so badly it hurt.
He hadn’t wanted a woman like this since . . .
Since Dani.
The realization took some of the breath from his lungs.
For so long, he’d felt little beyond anger, grief, and emptiness, his life shaped by his duty to his country, to the Agency, the past two years a blur of assignments. Now he was fighting for his career, fighting for his life. Yet somehow in the middle of this mess, Holly, with her big brown eyes and smart mouth, had made him feel again. She’d made him smile, made him laugh.
He’d misjudged her from the beginning. He’d known she was smart. What he hadn’t realized is that she was smarter than he was. She was cool under pressure and able to think on her feet. She was a crack operative when it came to cryptography and HUMINT. She’d bested him twice—once in Dudaev’s hotel room and once at the cabin. Hell, she’d been one step ahead of him when she’d sent those encrypted messages from the coffee shop, too.
He could see why she and Dani had been friends. Though Dani had been softer spoken and didn’t care much for clothes or shoes, they were both smart, intuitive, and extremely stubborn, with insatiable appetites for life.
What was he thinking? Was he actually comparing Holly to Dani?
He had loved Dani. He still loved her. He’d been going to marry her. What he felt for Holly—it was nothing more than lust. Okay, it was lust on steroids. Besides, whatever chance he might have had with her was likely over, ruined by circumstance. He’d followed orders, and in the process he’d hurt her both physically and emotionally.
You were the best time I’d ever had—until you became the worst time I’ve ever had.
Well, hell. He’d be willing to be her best time again—if she’d let him. He didn’t see how he could tell her that, not if he wanted to keep his nuts intact.
So, Holly, if you’re done being hurt and pissed off, I think we should go back to fucking each other’s brains out.
Yeah, he didn’t see that going over well. She’d made it clear this afternoon that she still didn’t trust him. Hadn’t he promised he would never touch her again? Yes, he had, and he needed to keep that promise.
Still, she’d been attracted to him once. Yesterday, when he’d kissed her, she’d seemed to melt in his arms. Or maybe she’d just been surprised.
The tall one wouldn’t bend, the short one wouldn’t stretch, and the kiss was lost.
The words, part of an old Georgian proverb, came into his thoughts and stayed.
But he had bent. He’d apologized. He’d admitted wanting her.
What else could he do?
She stirred in her sleep, rolled onto her right side, the large bruise on her ribs a dark stain against her pale skin.
What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be thinking about getting between her legs. He should be doing his best to crack Dudaev’s password and expose Bauer. His future and hers depended on it.
Dani’s life had ended in five minutes of terror on a cold warehouse floor in Batumi. Now Holly’s life was on the line, caught in the wake of that same terrible night. He owed it to her to get her out of this safely.
He pulled up the sheet to cover her, picked up the melting bowl of ice, and left her to sleep. He had work to do.
* * *
Holly awoke the next morning feeling a little groggy from the Benadryl but much better overall. The welts had begun to fade and didn’t itch nearly as bad. She got up, grabbed a towel, and walked across the hall to the bathroom for a shower, only to find the door closed, Nick already inside.
She heard the water shut off, followed by cursing.
“Shit!”
A moment later, the door opened, and he emerged dripping wet and furious, shaving cream covering half his face, a blue towel wrapped around his hips. “The generator must be out of propane.”
The water pump didn’t work without electricity and had apparently cut out on him mid-shave.
He headed down the stairs, the towel so low on his hips that she could see the rounded tops of his glutes.
Was he planning on going outside like that?
“Do you need help?” she called after him.
“Do you know how to hook a propane tank up to a generator?”
“No.” She was sure she could figure it out.
“Then, no, I don’t need help.”
She heard the front door open, and the screen door slam.
Someone was grumpy this morning.
She went downstairs, took a strawberry yogurt out of the little fridge, found a spoon, and ate, watching out the window as Nick, still wearing just the towel, grabbed a propane tank, the muscles of his arms and chest shifting in response to the weight.
She felt a flutter in her belly.
He disappeared around the side of the house, ending the show.
She let her mind drift back to the few days when they’d been sexually involved. He’d been amazing, the first man who’d matched her libido, who’d anticipated her needs, who’d been willing to play with her, not just screw her. He’d made her scream, made her laugh, made her forget herself.
What you got is who I am.
More belly flutters.
She’d told him he repulsed her, that she couldn’t stand the sight of him, but it wasn’t true. It bothered her to realize how much she still wanted him. She was used to being able to walk away from men, hot men, wealthy men. So why couldn’t she just forget about him and focus on her job?
Then it came back to her—what he’d said just before she’d fallen asleep.
If I understand your question, the answer is yes.
He’d wanted her.
Did he still want her? Did she want him?
Why couldn’t she read him like she read other men?
You’re too close to this emotionally. That’s why.
She closed her eyes, remembered the feel of him on top of her, inside her.
Outside, the generator kicked on, and he walked through the door, abruptly ending her fantasy. There was a dark scowl on his face and grass stains on his bare knees from crawling around on the ground. Although he was clearly pissed off, it was hard to take his anger seriously when half of his face was covered in white foam.
“How did you sleep?” she asked, trying n
ot to smile.
“Fine.” He marched up the stairs, giving her the best view yet.
Oh, my.
Okay, so male genitals could look a little comical just bobbing around. But when he’d been hard and inside her, she hadn’t been laughing.
Chapter Eighteen
Nick rebooted the computer, wondering if he should just delete the damned program and install one of the others on this CPU. He had five other computers running around the clock and none of them had yet cracked Dudaev’s password. He couldn’t afford to have this one crashing every half hour.
Holly—the other half of Nick’s excuse for a bad mood—called down the stairs to him. “There’s coffee if you want some.”
He grabbed the pages he’d written up when she’d been asleep last night and headed upstairs. He stepped into the kitchen, saw her, stopped.
Holy hell.
Her hair was still damp, hanging to her shoulders in blond tendrils, the air carrying just a hint of her soft, feminine scent. This time, she was wearing a short pink slip dress that revealed the hot pink of her bra straps and the round tops of her breasts. To make matters worse, she’d put on that frosty pink lip gloss again, the stuff that made her mouth look irresistible, like candy.
How did she manage to look like that in secondhand clothes? Shouldn’t she be wearing baggy sweats and T-shirts?
He’d gone to sleep feeling horny as hell last night, unable to take matters into his own hands, not with her sleeping in the same damned room. She wasn’t making things any easier on him by walking around half naked.
She must have seen the scowl on his face. “Did the computer crash again?”
“Yeah. Are you any good at debugging?”
“No. Sorry.” She poured coffee into a mug. “Do you take it black, or do you want—?”
“Black. Thanks.” He held out the pages. “I want you to review and memorize these. They’re security protocols.”
“Security protocols?” She took the pages, glanced down at them.
He’d written up a few scenarios just to help her prepare mentally, giving her exit routes from the house and instructions on where to take shelter inside the house if they ended up in a firefight. He’d also put in a few reminders, basic stuff like having the information on her false ID memorized, knowing the number on the minivan’s temporary plates, keeping her firearm loaded and ready.
He ought to have done this their first day here, but she’d gotten stung by the yellow jackets, and they’d been occupied with other things. Not that anyone was going to find them out here in the middle of nowhere. Still, they couldn’t be too careful.
“We need to agree to certain things. For example, no more contact with Langley unless we both agree and are present.”
She looked up at him. “You want veto power over my contact with my CO?”
“No.” He’d known she was going to take it that way. “We didn’t get off to the best start and—”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“Regardless, we need to be able to trust each other, to work as a team, if we’re going to get out of this alive.”
“What have I done to make you lack trust in me?”
“You snuck off to the Internet café and sent that message.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You abducted me. I had to check in and let people know I was okay. You ought to have anticipated that.”
“How do you think I managed to catch you in the act yesterday? I anticipated!” Nick fought not to shout. “Your skills are cryptography and charm. Mine are tactical and security. If bullets start flying, you’ll do what I tell you to do.”
“Charm?” She glared up at him, standing almost toe-to-toe with him now, her cheeks red. “I’ve had firearms training, SERE, R2I. I am not some ditzy, helpless blond chick!”
He grabbed her shoulders, overwhelmed by the urge to shake some sense into her. Instead, he found himself kissing her, lust, anger, and regret getting tangled inside him, coalescing into some kind of insanity.
She kissed him back, her lips sweet against his, the security protocols slipping from her hands, falling to the floor.
With no warning, she pulled away, gave him a hard shove.
“You bastard!” She glared up at him, her cheeks flushed pink. “That’s the second time you’ve kissed me!”
He opened his mouth to point out that she’d damned well kissed him back that time, but he didn’t get the chance. With a little jump she was in his arms again, her lips on his, her arms wrapped around his neck.
He caught her, crushed her against him, took what she offered, staggering across the kitchen like a drunk. Her tongue teased his, the two of them sparring for control of the kiss until they were both breathless.
He backed her up against the kitchen wall, the feel of her soft body making him hard. She began to grind herself against his erection, her motions telling him exactly what she wanted. God, he wanted it, too. He wanted to be inside her now, but he knew he wouldn’t last two minutes like this.
He set her feet on the floor and dropped to his knees before her, yanking her panties down with one hand, lifting her dress out of the way with the other. Then he buried his face between her thighs and tasted her.
He heard her quick intake of breath, felt her fingers clench in his hair.
“Yes!” she whispered.
He ran his tongue over her smooth outer lips, then drew one inner lip into his mouth and sucked on it, tugging it free so he could see it. So much like a flower petal. He did the same thing with the other one, and felt her shiver. He took a moment to admire her beauty, then took the small bud of her clit into his mouth and suckled her.
She gasped, her belly tensing, her clit swelling in his mouth.
God, he’d missed her taste, missed her scent, missed the way she made him feel—lust-crazed and alive, his pulse pounding.
Some part of him wondered whether he was out of his mind to be doing this—doing her—when his life was a disaster. But then she moaned out his name, and it seemed to him that being with her like this was the only part of his life that made sense.
* * *
Holly let herself be carried away as Nick worked magic on her with his mouth, teasing her with velvet strokes of his tongue, tugging on her clit with his lips, drawing all of her into the heat of his mouth.
Why had she ever argued with him? They shouldn’t waste time arguing. They shouldn’t even talk. They should spend all of their time . . .
Just. Like. This.
Oh, God, what was that?
Some sweet trick with his lips and tongue.
She tried to ask him what he was doing and whether he was taking notes, because someone ought to be writing this down for the sake of all womankind. But her words unraveled, became moans, her legs trembling, her knees threatening to buckle.
Oh, it felt good, desire now a shimmering sexual ache deep in her belly. Her vagina contracted, longing to be filled. But he seemed to know. In the next instant, he slid two fingers deep inside her, stretching her, stroking her.
Oh, God, yes!
It was bliss, his mouth on her, his fingers inside her. And in no time at all she was there, floating along that golden crest that came right before an orgasm.
Then he did that again.
She came with a cry, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance as climax surged through her in radiant waves, his mouth keeping up its rhythm until the bliss had passed. And for a moment she stood there, breathless, her nails digging into his T-shirt, her legs weak, her body trembling.
He got to his feet, drew her against him, his mouth closing over hers in a deep kiss, his lips drenched in her scent, his tongue filling her mouth with her own taste. She heard the sound of a zipper and glanced down to see his beautiful erect cock jutting out of his jeans.
Her inner muscles clenched—hard.
She wanted him again.
She was about to drop to her knees and do for him what he’d done for her, but she never got the chance. He graspe
d her bare ass and lifted her off the floor, pinning her against the wall with his weight, the forcefulness of his actions making her pulse spike.
She’d always fantasized about having sex like this, but she’d never been with a man who was strong enough to pull it off. And, oh, how she liked it. It made her feel feminine and small—and extremely horny.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself to him, already anticipating the hard feel of him inside her.
His gaze met hers, the head of his cock nudging into her. “Are you sure you really want this?”
Something in her chest melted that he should think to ask.
So few men did.
She kissed him, whispered, “Fuck me.”
He thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inch by inch inside her.
They moaned almost as one, Holly’s eyes drifting shut at the exquisite feel of him, so hot and hard and thick.
“You feel so . . . good.” His voice was strained, his body tense.
He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, his rhythm picking up until he was driving himself into her, fucking her hard and deep and fast. Each thrust felt sweeter than the last, until she was crying out for him, the slick glide of his cock sending her over that dazzling edge once again. But this time, she wasn’t alone. She heard his breath break, felt his body shudder as orgasm claimed him, carrying them both away.
It was only after her pulse slowed and he’d set her on her feet that she realized they hadn’t used a condom.
He realized it, too. “I don’t know what I was thinking, Holly. I’m sorry.”
She never had sex without a condom. “I don’t think either of us was thinking of much of anything.”
“I get tested as part of the Agency’s annual physical, so I know I can’t give you anything—well, except . . . you know.” His gaze dropped to her belly.
She felt a little answering flutter.
No. Just no.
“I can’t get pregnant. IUD. I get tested regularly, too.” It went with her job.
“Okay, well, no harm done, then.” He kissed her—slowly.
* * *
They shared a bath afterward, Holly leaning back against Nick’s chest in the cooling water, his arm around her, the intimacy both strangely familiar and new.