by Katie Reus
Today was one of his most important missions—convince Hannah to give him a second chance. Because if she shut him out, somewhere deep inside he wasn’t sure if . . . Nope. Not even going there. He’d never failed a mission yet, and he wasn’t going to start now.
Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of the bartender leaving his change on the bar, but all Dax’s focus was on the server taking the drink to Hannah. She’d just come off the small dance floor to join some of her friends. They were either sitting or standing around a high cocktail table, most of them swaying to the music. Including her, there were four women and one man, who Dax was positive was gay since he’d seen him flirting with half a dozen guys in the last twenty minutes. He was glad too, because the way he’d been dancing with Hannah had all of Dax’s possessive instincts flaring to life. Instincts he hadn’t realized he had until her.
Her long inky black hair was down loose around her shoulders. She had some sparkly thing in her hair, clipped in on one side, pulling part of it up. When they’d spent those four days together she’d once complained about how heavy her hair was, but he hoped she didn’t cut it. He loved running his fingers through it. Wearing a strapless purple dress and high heels that put her at probably five feet five, she looked incredible.
Her face lit up in surprise when the server handed her the drink. When the woman pointed in Dax’s direction, Hannah looked over and froze.
Dax had stared down the barrel of more than one firearm in his lifetime and been behind enemy lines in situations he was positive he wasn’t getting out of alive. But until now he’d never felt so tense and nervous. This was it. She either talked to him or blew him off.
She stared for a long moment, as if she didn’t believe it was him sitting there, then handed her drink to the blond man at her table before stalking toward Dax. She looked annoyed more than anything, but the way she was headed for him, all fierce determination, got him insanely hot.
He swiveled in his chair fully to greet her but didn’t get up. He was taller than most people and she was petite, even with the heels. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was trying to intimidate her with his size.
When she came to stand in front of him, she placed one hand on her hip. She kept her nails short, with no polish, but her toes were a bright coral. Because of his military background and his job at the NSA, he noticed a lot about people, but normally it was important stuff. Not someone’s nail-polish color. With Hannah, he drank in everything about her. He’d been fantasizing about her for the past two weeks, and like a starving man, he couldn’t get his fill.
“Are you stalking me?” she demanded in a haughty voice that made his dick stand at attention. Shit. His body was his to control, always had been. Until her.
He lifted a shoulder. “Maybe.”
She blinked, some of the tension leaving her body. “That’s your answer?”
He shrugged again. “I figured honesty is the best policy with you.”
“That’s funny coming from a giant liar.” Hurt flared in her dark brown eyes for the briefest moment, but he felt it like a kick to his solar plexus.
“I’ve never lied to you.” He’d had to withhold some information, sure.
“Hmm. What about asking me to meet you at my parents’ restaurant and then just not showing up?”
Fuck. Yeah, that was definite hurt in her eyes. And a whole lot of anger. When she’d mentioned her parents owned two Korean restaurants, he’d wanted to meet them. His admission had surprised both of them. But he adjusted quickly to all facets of life. It was part of his intrinsic nature. He wanted to be in Hannah’s life and wanted to know every damn thing about her. That included her family. He viewed pretty much everything as a strategy, a mission, and to be with her, he needed to know her family. She’d balked when he’d suggested it, but then she’d finally agreed—and he hadn’t shown up. “I called you the second I was able to.” Literally.
Almost as soon as his team had landed in Miami, even before his short debriefing and the return of his personal cell phone, he’d called her from an office line in one of the NSA’s private hangars.
“How’d you know I’d be here?” She wrapped her arms around herself, the protective action clear. It bugged him that she felt the need to protect herself from him, even if he deserved it.
He wanted to pull her into his arms, run his mouth along her jaw, and nip and kiss her the way he’d been fantasizing about for two weeks straight. He’d been stuck in the jungle—exact location unknown—with three other guys, with no outside communication for days at a time, returning to their base only to debrief. “I . . . can’t tell you.” Because he didn’t want to lie. She knew he worked for the NSA because of the circumstances under which they’d met, but he’d told her he was an analyst of sorts.
She was silent for a long moment, her eyes searching his. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice so low he almost didn’t hear her above the beat of the locally owned place.
“You.” All of her. “Hannah, I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t call you. It’s not that I didn’t want to.”
She let her arms fall to her sides, but he could still sense that invisible wall between them. “Okay.” But he could tell she didn’t believe him. He could see the wariness in her dark gaze. She still thought he was a liar.
“Let me take you out tomorrow night. Or whenever you’re free next.” Because he wanted to lock her down, remind her how good things were between them.
Her expression softened, and when she bit her bottom lip he could see her caving. But then something shifted, he wasn’t sure what it was, and her gaze shuttered. “You can take me somewhere tonight.”
“Now?” It was nine, but he’d take her anywhere she wanted.
She nodded, looking unsure of herself, and he wished he knew what the sexy woman was thinking.
“Okay. Are you hungry? We’ll go anywhere you pick.” He’d only recently located to the NSA’s covert Miami branch, so he was still getting familiar with the local spots.
She straightened her shoulders, watching him intently. “I want to go to a hotel.”
“What? Why?”
She stepped closer and he immediately widened his thighs so she could move in between them. Unable to stop himself, he loosely grasped her hips. Oh yeah, this was where she belonged, in his arms.
She placed a hand on his chest, and for the briefest moment, her eyes went heavy lidded. “You really need me to explain it to you?”
God, she smelled so good. The citrusy, exotic scent of her perfume teased him; even in the midst of everything else surrounding them, it invaded his senses. And her natural, underlying scent, which was pure Hannah, drove him crazy. “I don’t want to take you to a hotel.” They could go to her place or his, now that he had actual furniture. He wanted her in his bed, on his sheets.
“Take it or leave it,” she murmured. She stepped back a fraction and his grip automatically tightened on her hips as panic punched through him.
He didn’t want her walking away, and he had the feeling she’d do just that if he made one wrong move. “Why not go back to my place? I can cook for you.” Or order takeout, more likely.
“I’m not in the mood to eat.” Her gaze dipped to his mouth and his blood pressure shot upward.
“I don’t want . . . just sex.” God, was that really him talking?
She pressed lightly against his chest with her delicate fingers and stepped fully out of his light embrace. “Well, maybe I do.”
Her uncharacteristically bold words made him blink, but he saw that same hurt flicker in her gaze that he’d seen before, the emotion fleeting. He wanted to know what she was thinking, get inside her head. Going to a hotel with her was no hardship, especially since it was clear what she wanted, but he wanted a hell of a lot more than just sex from her. “I’ve already paid my tab,” he said, sliding off the bar stool.
/> “Me too. I just need to grab my purse. Meet me at the front.” Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode away from him, her very sexy ass swaying as she headed back to her table.
* * *
Hannah looked at Dax’s broad back as he slid the hotel key card into the security pad of the door. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing here, but she knew she needed to get the man out of her system.
The sex couldn’t have been as good as she remembered. It absolutely couldn’t have. She’d taken one look at him the first time they’d met and it was like her body had just erupted into a ball of heat and hunger. And she’d felt the strangest sense of being safe around him, despite the fact that he’d just up and disappeared two weeks ago.
She knew her emotions were on a roller coaster, and she had enough self-awareness to recognize that her kidnapping a year ago had left her feeling vulnerable and uneasy in normal situations. It was one of the reasons she’d forced herself to go out tonight. She needed to get over her fears, and going to a familiar place with friends had been safe enough. Still, even though she’d been trying to deal with it on her own, she felt as if she was failing miserably. When she’d been with Dax, that had all changed. She’d started to feel like her normal self again, had felt so damn connected to him and truly safe with the man.
Safe.
She’d felt it all her life, wrapped up in the protective bubble of her family and her own insulated world, until a year ago. She’d never told anyone, not even Sophie, how much being kidnapped had affected her. Well, she’d told Dax, had opened up to him, surprising herself. And that was like Relationship 101; don’t over-share too soon. But she had. She’d felt like she could.
Then he’d disappeared. She really wanted to believe that he’d been unable to contact her, but that was a stretch for a man like him. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to let anything stand in his way.
As he stepped inside the room, she followed him, her stomach doing flip-flops. His dark brown hair was cut short, almost but not quite a skull trim. She’d run her fingers over his soft hair as he’d buried his face between her legs many times during the days they’d spent together. Her face flushed as she remembered that, just as she recalled how he’d taken her right against the shower wall of her bathroom. He’d held her up as if she weighed nothing, his muscular arms flexing as he pounded into her. . . . Her nipples started to tingle as the erotic memories bombarded her at once. It didn’t help that he was so damn sexy, with beautiful bronzed skin that showed off his Mediterranean heritage.
The drapes were pulled back, giving them enough light from the buildings downtown to see the king-sized bed and other furniture clearly. There was a slight chill in the room, as if someone had turned the air conditioner down.
God, what was she doing? She wasn’t going to prove anything to herself or him by being here. Yeah, maybe she should leave or— When Dax turned to her, those blue eyes that reminded her of the Aegean Sea pinning her, all thought process left her mind.
Well, all thought other than imagining what it would feel like to have those soft lips on hers again. He was the first man who hadn’t treated her like some delicate freaking flower. Because of her smaller stature and, in large part, her ethnicity, men always thought she was this fragile, submissive creature. Not Dax. He’d treated her like an equal in and out of the bedroom and had seemed to really be impressed by her intelligence. By her.
“Dax Costas,” she murmured, loving the sound of his name. Costas. God, even the way his last name rolled off her tongue was sexy.
His jaw tightened, his blue eyes going pure storm cloud. “I love it when you say my name.”
They were still in the short hallway of the room, where the bathroom and closet were. She took a step closer to him, his heat nearly singeing her. Reaching out, she stroked a hand down his chest. Even his shirt couldn’t hide the muscular expanse of his broad chest.
His big body shuddered. Taking her by surprise, he backed her up until she was against the nearest wall, a predator moving in on his prey. Oh yeah, she wanted to be this man’s prey in every way. She’d felt his brand of dominance and wanted more of it. So badly her body ached for his touch, his kisses.
At least right now. She was going to take everything he was offering. And give it back just as fiercely. Then she was walking away. On her terms.
She’d done the yo-yo relationship thing in the past and she wasn’t cut out for it. Dax had just disappeared on her for two weeks with no word, and that wasn’t something she could deal with. But . . . she wanted him right now and this was on her terms. Not in her home and not in his. This was just sex. Her good-bye.
Pure and simple.
Okay, maybe not simple, but it was what she craved.
“All I thought about was you for the past two weeks.” Dax’s voice was a sexy growl, his head dipping to her neck. There was a slight scruff of hair along his jaw and cheek as he moved against her. He pressed kisses against her neck, up behind her ear, before nipping her earlobe.
She arched into him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Wish I could say the same,” she murmured, her voice teasing.
His teeth pressed down on her earlobe and she let out a small yelp. “Stay mad at me all you want; just don’t kick me out of your life.” There was something guttural, almost vulnerable in his voice.
But was she just imagining that? She wanted to believe she mattered to him, but . . . She mentally shook herself. She needed to stay in the present. That was what got her in trouble before, getting all emotional over Dax.
His big hands slid down to her hips and he gripped her tight as he kissed his way to her lips. He completely captured her mouth with his, his tongue teasing against her, demanding that she be a full participant in this. Like that was ever a question.
Delving into his mouth, she relished his taste, the slight hint of the amber beer she knew he favored teasing her. When he groaned into her mouth she felt it all the way to her toes. Her nipples pebbled and her fingers dug into him for a second before she slid her hands to the top button of his shirt. She wanted to see all of him, to see if he was just as good as her memory.
He was too fast, though, and before she realized what he was doing he pulled back from her, his expression almost primitive, dark.
Her lips parted to say something—what, she’d never know—before he went down on his knees. She knew exactly what he planned and her sex clenched in anticipation.
Looking up at her, he kept his electric gaze pinned to hers as his hands slid under her dress and grabbed the edges of her silky thong. He tugged it down her legs, still watching her, gauging her reaction. She stepped out of it and spread her legs a fraction wider, balancing on her high heels.
He didn’t miss the subtle action, his eyes going heavy lidded. Without waiting for a response from her, he moved under her dress, his wicked mouth searching out her most intimate area.
She jerked against him the moment his tongue touched her clit. Looking down, all she could see was the outline of his head under her purple dress, the sight impossibly erotic. This was about letting go, surrendering to the pleasure. She lifted a leg over his shoulder, giving him more access, as her head fell back against the wall.
Even if being at this hotel with him was a mistake, it was hard to care when the here and now felt so incredible. She’d worry about everything else later, she vowed, letting her eyes close as a moan worked up her throat.
Much later.
Chapter 3
Dax twisted the shower knob to turn it off, but the small enclosure was still filled with steam. His body hummed with energy as he replayed the last few hours with Hannah in his mind.
She’d been just as ravenous as him, as if the two weeks apart had been a lifetime of separation. When he’d been with Delta he’d never understood how his married teammates dealt with separations. Now he had even more res
pect for them. Being separated from Hannah was absolute torture.
She’d been holding back from him, though. She might have been all in physically, but she hadn’t been open with him like she’d been weeks ago. When she’d told him about how it’d taken her months to even feel safe in her own home again and how she still didn’t sleep well at night. Now? She’d just seemed to want sex.
She’d slept fine with him, though, wrapped up in his arms, seemingly secure with him. If he had anything to say about it, she’d be spending a lot more nights with him.
He just needed to figure out what was going on in her head. As a natural tactician, he’d been ready to break through her defenses, but she wasn’t giving him anything. She’d just . . . Well, they’d just fucked. A lot.
That had always been enough for him before. His career path hadn’t lent itself to more than casual sex, but now things had changed. Now he was determined to make a relationship and his job live in harmony. Or at least find some balance. Because he desperately wanted that with Hannah. She was smart and sweet and was so damn blunt about things it got him hard thinking about it. He loved how she didn’t play games, something he’d had enough of to last a lifetime.
He snagged one of the towels from the rail next to the shower and ran it over his hair a few times before drying off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he wondered if Hannah would be awake and ready for more as he opened the door.
Before he’d taken two steps into the small hallway he knew he was alone. Her shoes, dress, and thong, which had been haphazardly tossed onto the floor from earlier, were gone. More than that, there was an emptiness to the space.
Moving quickly into the room, he scanned it, taking in the scene. The big bed was still rumpled, but her purse was gone too.
What. The. Fuck.
“Damn it,” he muttered, his jaw clenching tight. He didn’t think this was some weird way to get back at him for leaving two weeks ago. No, Hannah wasn’t the type of woman to play games. Still, he didn’t understand why she’d left so suddenly.