Midnight Games

by Elle Kennedy

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Her visible displeasure grated. “I wouldn’t have felt the need to do that if you hadn’t gone dark. What the hell were you thinking, shutting off your comm like that?”

  “I told you, the chatter was too big of a distraction. I can’t work when I’ve got half a dozen voices chirping in my ear.”

  “Well, tough fucking luck. We’re here to back you up, and that’s something we can’t do unless we’re in contact with you.”

  “Tough fucking luck,” she mimicked. “I work solo, and I can’t do my job unless I have total concentration. How am I supposed to play the part of Valerie when I’m constantly being reminded that I’m Isabel?”

  “I won’t let you out in the field without a comm.”

  “You won’t let me? Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re not running this op. Noelle is, and I follow her orders, not yours.” Her cheeks flushed with indignation. “And you know what? Even if you were running the show, I still wouldn’t give in, because frankly, the request is insulting. I’m a pro, and I work better without a freaking mic in my ear.”

  He gritted his teeth. “You’re not working solo on this op. You’re part of a team, and—”

  “I can’t be an asset to the team if I’m distracted,” she interrupted. “Besides, we both know your reaction has nothing to do with a teammate being out of contact. This is about you being overprotective and trying to keep me out of danger. Well, screw that. I’ve had men thinking they know what’s best for me my entire life. My dad, my brother, my supervisor at the bureau. There’s no way I’m letting another man run my life, or tell me what I can or can’t do in the field.”

  Trevor fell silent, suddenly feeling flustered. Isabel’s blowup was unexpected, but as her angry words hung in the air, he realized she was right. He was being overprotective. The mere thought of Isabel anywhere near a criminal like Meiro scared the shit out of him, and yet he wouldn’t have batted an eye if, say, Sully or Liam had been assigned to Meiro.

  Fuck. He hadn’t viewed her as a teammate earlier, but as a woman he cared deeply about and needed to protect, and that was an insult to her skills. A really crappy move on his part.

  He swallowed a lump of guilt. “Isabel—”

  “You’re not going to win this one, Trevor. I tried the earpiece thing. It didn’t work. From now on, I do it my way. I was a federal agent, remember? I know how to take care of myself.”

  She sat down on the bed and angrily started to pull out the bobby pins keeping her wig in place. A moment later, the blond tresses slid off to reveal the sexy red bob underneath.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “You’re right on all counts. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you excel in undercover work. I guess I just lost sight of that tonight. I was overprotective and jealous and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

  She shifted, and his gaze landed on the bottom of the black dress she now wore instead of the green gown. It had ridden up to reveal her creamy thighs, and even with the jumble of confusing emotions knotted around his insides, his body was still capable of getting turned on. Saliva promptly flooded his mouth, his fingers tingling with the need to touch all that firm, silky flesh.

  “Were you jealous with Gina, too?” she asked, her voice tight.

  Trevor slowly shook his head.

  “Did she ever flirt with other men in front of you?”

  “Sometimes. It wasn’t really a big deal, though.”

  Something flickered in Isabel’s eyes. She looked almost . . . wounded.

  “What’s that look for?” he said roughly.

  “I was just thinking you must have trusted her a lot more than you trust me. You must have had complete faith that she would never, ever stray.”

  Surprise filtered through him. “That’s not true. I mean, yes, I trusted her. I trusted her implicitly. But you’ve got that same level of trust from me.”

  “Really?”

  He approached the bed and knelt in front of her. “You would never stray either. Look, I didn’t freak out tonight because I thought you might wind up in bed with Meiro. When you told me you don’t use sex as a weapon, I believed you.”

  Her breath hitched when he rested his hands on her bare knees. “Why did you freak out, then?”

  A strangled groan left his mouth. “Because the thought of another man touching you drives me insane. Nobody else is allowed to touch you. Nobody but me.”

  Astonishment widened her eyes, and then the animosity she’d been radiating dissolved and she let out the warm, melodic laugh he loved so damn much. “I never would’ve guessed.”

  “Guessed what?”

  “That you’re a caveman at heart.” She laughed again. “Pure alpha male, just like the rest of your men.” She tilted her head pensively. “But you weren’t like that with Gina, were you?”

  As much as he hated drawing comparisons between the woman sitting in front of him and the woman he’d lost two years ago, he had to acknowledge that Isabel was right.

  “Protective? Yes. Possessive? No,” he confessed.

  With her typical Isabel frankness, she said, “I don’t want to be treated like a possession. That’s how my father and brother saw me, and I hated it. In their eyes, I belonged to them.”

  He cleared the gravel from his throat. “I don’t see you as a possession or a piece of arm candy or some object I need to conquer. I just . . .” He shrugged helplessly. “I just need you, Iz. I fucking crave you.”

  All the frustration, anger, and jealousy he’d bottled up tonight came spilling out, leaving his body in the form of a desperate growl that had him grabbing Isabel by the hair and kissing her senseless.

  He swallowed her surprised squeak with his kiss, thrust his tongue in her mouth without waiting for permission. His heart pounded like a jackhammer, each frantic beat vibrating in his groin, every ounce of blood in his body pooling south, until his cock was harder than steel, thick and heavy and aching.

  When her tongue touched his, he groaned and slanted his head to drive the kiss deeper. They were both panting when they came up for air.

  Isabel’s green eyes were glazed, her chest heaving with each breath, and she was clutching the front of his dress shirt between her fingers as if she couldn’t decide whether to pull him closer or push him away.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured again. “If you don’t want to wear a mic, I won’t push the issue. From this point on, I won’t question any move you make during this op. I promise you that.”

  “Thank you.” Her fingers toyed with the top button of his shirt, her expression conveying indecision. “I guess I should head back to—”

  “Unbutton my shirt.” His hoarse demand caused her eyes to widen again.

  “I . . . really can’t be away from the Palace for too long.”

  “I know.”

  Trevor brushed his mouth over hers in a fleeting kiss, then captured her bottom lip with his teeth and nipped at it.

  She responded with a tiny moan. “We . . .” She sighed in pleasure when he pressed his mouth to her neck and licked her hot flesh. “We can’t . . .”

  “We can’t what?”

  And then he slid his hand underneath her dress and between her legs, and she stopped talking altogether.

  Chuckling, Trevor rubbed her over her panties. He loved the dampness he felt on his palm, the way she parted her thighs to grant him better access, the pink flush of arousal that rose on her cheeks.

  She made a disappointed noise when he abruptly withdrew his hand.

  He laughed again. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. This isn’t over, not by a long shot. Stand up and turn around.”

  Evidently she was done searching for reasons why they shouldn’t do this, because she stood up without question and offered him her back.

  Trevor dragged his hand down the length of her body, trailing his fingers over the fragile bumps of her spine. Her short black dress had a zipper running down the center of her back. He undid the
little silver hook at the top, then pulled the zipper down, slowly, one tooth at a time.

  His breathing went shallow when her bra became visible, a strip of black held together by a flimsy clasp.

  Despite the lust burning in his blood like jet fuel and the internal order to ravish the living hell out of this woman, he miraculously managed to keep his ravishing instincts under control.

  Swallowing, he stroked her bare shoulders for a moment, then tugged on the soft material of her dress and peeled it off her body.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he told her.

  Her laughter tickled his ears. “You realize you’re looking at my back, right?”

  “Mmm-hmmm. And it’s a very beautiful back.”

  He toyed with that intriguing bra clasp, then glided his hands down to her firm buttocks. Deliciously bare, thanks to the dental-floss thong wedged between them.

  When he squeezed her ass, Isabel let out a moan that sent a spike of heat straight to his cock. His heart went Formula 1 on him. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, primed, ready for this.

  After he’d lost Gina, he hadn’t thought he would ever desire another woman, but he wanted Isabel so badly he could barely see straight. Each time he took a breath, he inhaled her intoxicating, feminine scent. Roses. She smelled like roses.

  He gripped her hips and brought her ass to his groin. Rotated his hips, letting her feel how hard she made him, how much he wanted her.

  “Trevor.” She spoke in a husky whisper, her tone resonating with longing and desire and a twinge of confusion.

  He pressed a kiss on her shoulder, enjoying the way she shivered. “What is it?”

  There was a long pause, then a wobbly breath. “Why can’t I resist you?”

  “Because you don’t want to.”

  Before she could reply, he spun her around and kissed her again.

  Her arms looped around his neck as he lowered them both onto the mattress. He was fully dressed, his clothing a bothersome hindrance that made Isabel curse as she yanked the tail of his shirt from his waistband.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she mumbled. “Damn it, Trevor.”

  He laughed at the outrage in her voice. “You’re right. This is a travesty.”

  Working together, the two of them swiftly remedied that, his hands clawing at his tuxedo jacket while her eager fingers tackled his shirt buttons. Soon both items of clothing were tossed aside, followed by his pants and boxers.

  Trevor ran his hands over her curvy body, groaning in frustration when he encountered the lacy waistband of her thong. “Now you’re the one wearing too many clothes,” he muttered.

  He grabbed the band of fabric and ripped it off her.

  Isabel’s jaw dropped. “Those were two-hundred-dollar panties. I hope you realize that.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Nope. I told you, Valerie only buys the best.”

  “Well, tell Valerie I’ll buy her a new pair. Right now I’m more concerned about making Isabel feel very, very good.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered teasingly. “Wait—how good?”

  “Very good.”

  Grinning, he reached behind her to undo her bra, then threw it aside and feasted his eyes on her bare breasts.

  Perfection. There was no other word to describe her, no other word that could do her justice. Her breasts were so round, so full, tipped by dusky pink nipples that puckered under his intense scrutiny. His gaze moved to the juncture of her thighs, to her bare mound and perfect pink slit that made his mouth water.

  Fuck, he had to taste her. He didn’t care that a fire of impatience was burning in his groin or that his cock was pleading for relief. He needed to put his mouth all over this woman.

  Now.

  Isabel gasped as his mouth took possession of one rigid nipple. While he sucked on the pearly bud, his hand cupped her other breast. Squeezing, kneading, pinching. The soft mewling sounds she made drove him absolutely crazy.

  Groaning, he continued to play with her breasts and did his best to ignore the storm of lust raging inside him.

  The caveman in him wanted to be set loose. He wanted to thrust her legs apart, plunge inside her, and fuck her so hard neither of them would be able to walk properly for days.

  But the gentleman in him overruled the caveman. This was Isabel, damn it. He’d been fighting this attraction for a year, struggling with it, berating himself for it.

  Well, no more. He wanted Isabel Roma more than he wanted his next breath, but he wouldn’t take her until he succeeded in making her feel that same wild and irrational need he’d been feeling since the day they’d met.

  “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he murmured when she began to move her hips restlessly.

  “Uh-huh.”

  The heat in her eyes stole his breath. He flicked his tongue over one beaded nipple, eliciting another sexy moan. Isabel’s fingernails gouged his shoulders, bringing little stings of pain. He fucking loved it. So much that his cock thickened to a level of hardness he hadn’t known possible. His erection was an iron spike, throbbing, pulsing, yelling for him to do something to ease the pressure.

  He once again ignored the persistent demand for release and lavished more attention on Isabel’s perfect breasts. His stubble left red splotches on her delicate skin, making his inner gentleman wince in shame and that dastardly caveman growl with satisfaction. His. This woman was fucking his.

  As his heart hammered out a reckless rhythm, he kissed his way down her body until he reached the wet paradise between her legs. She jerked the moment his mouth fastened on her clit, and he quickly braced his hands on her thighs to keep her still. Her muscles quivered beneath his palms, her clit pulsing against his tongue.

  “I . . .” She sucked in a breath. “I don’t know if . . .”

  He glanced up as she trailed off, but he was unable to decipher her expression. “You don’t know if what?”

  “Nothing,” she said after a beat. “I lost my train of thought.”

  He arched a brow. “Permission to continue?”

  She let out a wheezy laugh. “Permission granted.”

  Over the next ten minutes, he became his own hero, because damn, his herculean effort to go slow deserved to be included in the history books. Somehow, despite the roaring of his pulse and the flames of hunger devouring his body, he managed to drag out Isabel’s pleasure until she was begging for relief.

  He licked her like an ice-cream cone, drowning in her taste, her scent, her. When he pushed two fingers inside her and sucked hard on her clit, her hands came down to tangle in his hair, to hold him in place. He could tell what she liked based on her soft moans and sweet little gasps, and it wasn’t long before he felt her entire body tense.

  “Oh God.” Her voice was squeaky, laced with both delight and surprise, and then she was coming, nearly pulling his hair out by the roots as she rocked into his mouth and freely took the pleasure he offered.

  “I want you inside me,” she burst out, even as she continued to tremble and moan from the orgasm.

  Nothing short of dying could have stopped him from donning a condom and climbing up her body. As he positioned himself between her thighs, she gazed up at him almost reverently, as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Before he could make sense of it, she cupped his cheeks and brought his head down for a kiss.

  He longed to feel those warm hands encircling his cock, but he was too impatient. Too desperate and greedy. He plunged inside with one hard stroke and found her so tight he almost passed out from the sheer pleasure of it. Her pussy clutched him like a hot fist, and sweet mother, it felt so good he never wanted to leave her.

  But he had to. He had to move.

  Christ, he needed to move.

  Trevor pulled back his hips and withdrew, then thrust right back in, making them both groan.

  Isabel’s hands slid down to grip his ass. Her nails dug into his flesh. “More. I need more.”

  “I’m trying to make it last.”
His muscles knotted, throbbed from the strained effort it took to try to pace himself.

  “It’s not about lasting. It’s about enjoying.” Her breathy words heated his neck and then she was kissing him there, unleashing an explosion of shivers.

  “Trust me, I’m enjoying,” he choked out.

  “Me too.” Passion flared in her green eyes. “But I’d enjoy it more if you moved, damn it!”

  With a strangled laugh, he said good-bye to slow and gave the woman what she wanted. He drove into her over and over again, and she met him thrust for thrust with the lift of her hips.

  Trevor’s pulse raced, his mind going to that blissful place where nothing existed but pure and utter ecstasy. It had been too long for him, and Christ, how he’d missed this. The sense of connection and belonging, the all-consuming pleasure.

  Before long he was hit by an orgasm that rivaled a category five hurricane. It seized his balls and seared a path through his body, so powerful it brought black spots to his eyes. Isabel’s answering cry of pleasure stoked his own, bringing a fresh rush of incredible heat that vibrated in his blood until he was reduced to a panting, sweaty mess drained of two years’ worth of bottled-up passion.

  As he collapsed on top of her, she stroked his back and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “You okay?”

  He made an unintelligible sound and held her tighter.

  She laughed softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  • • •

  Noelle found D on the balcony of the men’s suite. He was alone, standing at the railing with his black-eyed gaze focused on the cityscape.

  He didn’t turn around when she stepped outside, but his sardonic chuckle revealed he knew who’d joined him. “Careful. People will start to wonder.”

  “Do you care?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Neither do I.”

  In fact, she’d stopped caring a long time ago what people thought of her.

  A bitch. A shrew. Cold, calculating, evil.

  Whatever. Let them talk. And let them fear her. If she had to evoke some sort of emotion from others, she’d prefer it be terror.