Kiss Chase

by Scarlett Finn

  All she could guess was that he was trying to create a connection between them, and she hated him for it because she feared it was working. Rora wanted to feel those hands on her again, wanted him to tell her she was safe, wanted to look into his scowling eyes and smile just like she used to.

  “Do you trust him, Ro? More than you trusted me?”

  Rage and bitter heartache surged up inside her. “I want to trust him, Strike,” she said, her eyes burning, her throat stinging and growing tight. Smacking his chest, she blew out her frustration. “I want to trust him. But I can’t trust him. I can’t trust anyone! That’s what you taught me, Flame.” She spat out the pet name like it disgusted her. “You taught me not to trust anyone! That everyone will screw me over because everyone’s out for themselves!”

  “You can trust me.”

  That was a gut punch. She lost her fury and just blinked at him. “What? No… No, you told me not to trust you. You made me walk away.”

  “You chose to walk away,” he said. “You chose this.”

  Was he blaming her for killing their relationship? All she’d asked him to do was not put the supposed Point USB into the port and he’d done it.

  “This was you,” she said. “You chose the Point over me.”

  “You’re stuck in the past again, think about the future. I want to know if you’re fucking him.”

  Always back to the same point. It was so typical of a man to be more concerned about the physical than the emotional scars they’d caused. “Why should I tell you? Why is it your business if—”

  “We said no one else.”

  On their first night together, when she’d thought they had a future. “We said no other women,” she sneered. “Nothing was said about men, and you don’t imply, do you? Maybe you should’ve been more specific.”

  “If he’s touched you, I’ll geld him, Ro… It’s as simple as that. Think before you answer me because I’ll take your word either way. If you don’t answer, I’ll do it just in case. Are you fucking him?”

  If she needed any reminder that Strike was stronger than her, he was delivering the message. Fighting him would be the end of her, Rora knew it. She shook her heavy head. She was exhausted, physically, emotionally, in every way a person could be.

  Almost ready to give up like she had been once before, she recalled that it had been this man who’d held her up.

  “Strike,” she whispered, wanting to believe that he valued her.

  “You’re not?”

  “No,” she wheezed out and surrendered to her urge to confide in him. “I think he wants to… he kissed me.”

  Why was she confessing this to him? Why did she feel herself leaning on the man who’d screwed her over? Maybe because she’d just learned that he hadn’t screwed her over, he’d just used the Point to push her away and it had worked. Just like she’d said to Junker, Strike needed to believe he didn’t need a human connection. One sure way to protect himself was to get rid of her and the Point had given him a way to do that.

  There might be no hope for their relationship, but he’d just proved to her, without realizing it, that he wasn’t as black-hearted as he’d wanted her to believe.

  “Kissed you,” he said, easing closer until he was pressed against her. Putting a fingertip to the underside of her chin, he pushed it up and lowered his mouth onto hers in a light brush. “Like that?” She shook her head. Kissing her again, harder this time, he held for a second and then looked at her. “Like that?”

  “No,” she breathed out.

  His next kiss was a fraction longer, a fraction harder, and when his tongue touched her lip, she tried to lower her mouth, but he pushed her chin up again. “Like that?”

  “Kind of,” she said because kissing one man was nothing like kissing the other.

  “So, not like this,” he murmured and sank down to kiss her again.

  Inhaling hard, his tongue delved into her mouth to twist around hers. He withdrew, and returned, teasing and tempting her. This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t be standing here in this dark space alone with the man who’d stolen from her and left her tied to a bed.

  The weight of his arm on the top of her head made her shift to accommodate his forearm at the back of her neck so she could rest her head against it. This was what she remembered, the strength of his arm hooked tight around her neck, the weight of his head suspended over hers as he pressed his mouth to hers and fought her tongue with his own.

  But he bent lower and she didn’t know what he was doing until his other arm hooked her thighs and lifted her up onto the utility box beside them.

  “Strike,” she said when he pushed up her skirt. “We can’t.”

  Resting his forehead on hers, he stroked her thighs, dragging his fingers down her flesh and skimming them back up. “Say you don’t want to… say it out loud, Cupcake. Tell me you haven’t thought about having me inside you again.” Clutching her face, he met her eye. “I need to be inside you, Ro… I’ll spiral if you deny me, and that never works out for anyone.”

  Could she keep him grounded? Save his sanity by offering him her body? “I don’t trust you,” she whispered.

  His expression became knowing, confident. “Never stopped you before. Do you want me?”

  Damn him for being smug, even though he had every right to be. Her heart was beating hard, her chest heaving. Their panting breaths merged and when he tipped his head to join their lips again, her eyes closed slowly.

  “Fuck you, Strike,” she breathed. “Fuck you for what you do to me.”

  “Shh,” he said. “I’m not listening.”

  “You never do,” she panted, her fingers seeking his belt.

  Desperately pursuing his kiss while pulling open his fly, she tried to maintain constant contact with his mouth. It sucked and licked at hers with a haphazard fury she struggled to keep up with, but her building need matched his.

  Leaning away, she propped herself on an arm and lifted her hips to wriggle out of her panties. He wasn’t patient, as soon as she had one leg out, he grabbed her thighs to yank them apart and hauled her to the edge.

  Strike plunged into her. She tossed an arm around his shoulders, giving herself a leverage point to lift her hips in time with him slamming into her. Pulling her around to put her back to the wall, his fingers dug into her flesh, holding her at the very edge of the cool metal beneath her.

  “Oh, fuck,” she hissed. “This is so fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?”

  Pulling her pelvis up, he wrapped one arm around her hips to keep them engaged and grabbed her hair in the other to yank her head back so he could press his forehead against hers.

  Their hot breath blended. “You’re being bad,” he said and ducked forward to let his tongue lap her upper lip. “Told you to get used to misbehaving.”

  Because he’d bring it out in her. Smacking his shoulders with both hands, she wanted to punch him for being him, as much as she wanted to feel his thick girth occupying her every minute.

  “I hate you,” she said, but couldn’t tell herself to mean it. “I trusted you.”

  “Back then I told you not to. Now I’m saying different,” he said. “You fuck with my head, Cupcake.”

  “Good,” she said, squirming against his groin when he started rocking his hips again.

  “I never needed anyone,” he grunted. “Never needed a damn thing… until you came along.”

  “Stop it,” she said, hating that his words affected her. “Stop trying to get under my skin again.”

  “Is that anger I hear in your voice, Cupcake?”

  A tremor of arousal racked her when she recalled how he’d fucked her the last time she’d been vibrating with rage. “Yes.”

  “Hmm,” he said and froze for a second, considering options.

  Letting her fall against the wall, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and forced it up to expose her bra. Yanking the cups out of the way, he sealed his mouth around one nipple and the sensation of him sucking on her made her ti
ghten her legs around his hips and moan. He moved to the other, licking it before he bit her so hard that she squealed.

  Arching into the kisses he spread across her breasts, she hummed and whimpered until he rose to kiss her mouth again. “Fuck me, Strike,” she panted, her eyes closed, her head rolling against the wall. “Oh, God, fuck me.”

  Thrusting into her, he didn’t stop this time, didn’t slow down until he’d brought her to climax and fired his seed into her.

  “The Square won’t ever kiss you like that,” he said, his breathing heavy. What they’d just done went far beyond kissing. He stepped back, leaving her there in a mess, propped on the utility box and draped against the wall. “Keep Opal until I tell you otherwise.”

  He buttoned his jeans. Rora was still breathing through the aftershocks of her climax, so it took her a second to figure out what he was talking about. Forcing herself to get it together fast, Rora found that the lace on her bra was torn, but she hid it inside her top anyway and pulled her skirt down.

  “Why did you need me to take her?”

  “She’ll protect you. You’re safer together,” he said and propped a fist on the metal surface at either side of her thighs, not touching, but coming close enough that she felt his breath on her face. “You need an ally and Opal’s it. I’m telling you not to trust the square.”

  “I don’t take orders from you, Strike,” she said, putting her foot on his thigh to try pushing him away, but he didn’t move.

  “Trusting him would be a mistake. I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t trust anyone.”

  “I trust you,” he said.

  When she searched for mocking in his eyes, she found none. “No, you don’t.” Rora swallowed. “You’re just saying that.”

  “I told you to point a gun at my head. Told you to take Opal. And you’re the only other one with access to her. She’s at your disposal. Would I have done that if I didn’t trust you?”

  He seemed so certain, the guy barely blinked. “I can touch her?”

  Tilting his head, he leaned in to brush his lips over hers. “Did you forget our first night together?”

  No, she hadn’t. Somehow, she could read his memories of that night playing behind his eyes and a bolt of heat fired through her. They’d just had sex, but she felt herself being seduced by him all over again.

  “I… I assumed you’d reversed that,” she said. All of this was more than she’d expected, his attitude, his words, his actions. She didn’t get it. “You’re manipulating me, you’re trying to… I don’t know what you’re doing, but I don’t like it.”

  “You can trust me, Ro,” he said, skimming the back of his fingers over her cheek.

  “Are you sleeping with the Jewel?” He didn’t really shake his head, but it kind of swayed from one side to the other. Rora breathed out, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. “The stuff nightmares are made of.”

  Bending his knees, he put space between them and pressed his fingertip under her chin again. “Find out what you can about this guy. Facts I know, but read between the lines, try to figure out if—”

  “I’m not your double agent,” she said. “I did what I did at the meeting because… I wanted Opal.”

  “Bella, Opal,” he said, narrowing one eye. “I said you had a thing for the ladies.”

  Smiling, she watched her fingertip move down his jaw. “Technically, I slept with both of them before I had sex with you.”

  When her eyes flicked to his, she dropped the smile. What the hell was she doing? She was acting like everything was normal between them and it wasn’t. She couldn’t be naïve enough to let him back into her heart without any explanations.

  “One of ‘em is welcome in our bed, the other isn’t,” he said, taking her hand off his face and putting it on her leg.

  “You’re not going to tell me not to flirt with you?” she asked, suspicious of his motives for being nice to her. “And we don’t have a bed, not an ‘our’ bed.”

  “No?” he asked, pushing her skirt up the front of her thighs to expose her legs. “ ‘Cause you seemed at home raiding our stores in the loft.”

  “Our?” she asked, nudging him away when he kissed her collarbone. “What game are you playing, Strike? We broke up. Nothing is ‘us’ or ‘we’ or ‘ours.’ I know you say you trust me, but how can you when I took up with another guy and chased you across the country?”

  “Trust you?” he asked and straightened to fold his arms. “You’re not sleeping with him. You didn’t take him into the loft. You didn’t tell him my name. I’ll bet there’s plenty you haven’t told him… Like it or not, Cupcake, you’re still protecting me… protecting us.”

  But this time, she could take his certainty down a notch. “Maybe I’m just embarrassed to admit that I ever loved you,” she said, sliding down onto her feet. “All those things are true, but I did tell him how to find you in Apocalypse.”

  But he was smirking again. “Then you came with him and stood between us to make sure no one got hurt.”

  She had done that, but he’d misread her motivation. “To protect him, not you.”

  “I am the better fighter.”

  He could turn anything to his advantage and it infuriated her. “You didn’t have to hit him, that was just rude,” she said. “I was so mad at you for that and I… I’d promised myself I wouldn’t ever speak to you again and then somehow I was there at your table screaming at you.”

  “Turning me on,” he said, moseying closer. “I love it when you turn that fury on me.”

  “Because you’re a masochist. You’d probably have preferred it if I just walked up and punched you in the face,” she said.

  His brow rose in a way that told her she wasn’t wrong. “Difference between you and Bella, you I’ll never hit back.”

  Hearing that made her feel angry and sick, but she just frowned at him. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare us… ever. And she’d actually like it if you hit her back. Me, I’d take the first opportunity I had to cut off your balls.”

  “Defend yourself or die.”

  Bowing lower, he tried to kiss her again, but she pushed him away. “I’m not what you think I am. None of this is what you think it is. I haven’t kept all your secrets. I told Junker that you shot Bella.”

  “Saving you. After I found you in bed together. Did you tell him that?” he asked. Rora squirmed and his pride grew. “You told him just enough but not everything. What else?”

  She’d made this evening too easy for him already; she wasn’t going to keep on feeding him information. “I’m not going to tell you everything.”

  “You’re right. We don’t have time,” he said, looking at his watch. “I should get back. I told Bella I’d swing by.”

  “Out of one pussy and straight into the next.”

  One side of his mouth rose, forcing his lips into a slant. “Envy is a mortal sin, Cupcake,” he said. “We’ll work on committing the others soon. Chin up.”

  Leaning forward, he kissed her fast and then turned to walk away. “Strike,” she called out. “Strike, don’t you…”

  But he walked around the end of the building and she was left to stare at the black wall opposite her. What the hell had just happened and why the hell did she keep falling for this guy?

  TEN

  The following morning was a tense limbo of talking and not talking. Rora and Junker agreed they would be safer if they left the city, but where could they go? Their mission wasn’t over. But it was at an impasse.

  So, they had to stay. But to do what? As long as they had Strike and the Black Jewel in their sights, Junker didn’t want to lose them. The original plan was to monitor the pair, and he wanted to stick with that until they came up with a better idea of how to get the tech away from Strike.

  Then there was the next debate: to return the computer or not to return the computer?

  One thing was certain, Junker didn’t know about her middle-of-the-night encounter with Strike.

  But
she did.

  She couldn’t get it off her mind. Rora was mad at herself for letting Strike kiss her. If he hadn’t kissed her, they never would’ve… had they really had sex out there? Out there in the open?

  Ok, so it was a secluded spot, but there was no denying that it was crazy to take that kind of risk. Didn’t master criminals usually get caught, not for their primary crime, but for some stupid, insignificant act… like public indecency?

  If they were both locked up, and Opal was out of Strike’s control, how would they be able to get free?

  They, them, we, us, our. Her mind connected them as a couple, a duo, so easily, and it wasn’t meant to be that way. Rora had never made a conscious decision to connect herself to him like he was an extension of her, but somewhere along the way, it had happened and now she couldn’t switch it off.

  Beyond thoughts of her craziness and their relationship, she was preoccupied by his assertion that he had the Point. There was no way Benjamin had switched the drives out; he hadn’t known what she’d done. Strike couldn’t have it. He just couldn’t.

  And the more she thought about it, the more she figured if Strike had wanted to use the program, he’d have deployed it by now. He wouldn’t be chasing Bella’s requests or coming to meetings with her and Junker if he was working on the Point. He’d have worked every hour, every minute, tirelessly, until he got it perfect and then he’d have set it free in the world to work for him.

  So he hadn’t used the program, hadn’t figured out yet that she hadn’t given it to him. Their relationship, whatever it was, might change when he discovered her double-cross. Unless she told him the truth first… but, yeah, she was in no rush to do that.

  She and Junker had lunch and then dinner, watching the cameras and seeing nothing. Just as night began to threaten they saw a blurred figure enter Bella’s hotel lobby. It went into the elevator, and the next they saw it, it was entering Bella’s suite.

  “There he is,” Junker said. “That’s him, right?”

  Rora didn’t want to watch the way Bella greeted Strike or how the beauty took his arm and plastered herself to him. “That’s him,” she sighed, swirling her wine in the bottom of her glass.