by Mandy Baxter
Landon sucked in a breath as he realized what she was about to do. Oh, hell, yes. Her tongue flicked out at the head of his cock, wet, warm, and so damned soft. He bucked his hips as he stifled a groan. Just the thought of Emma’s mouth on him sent his heart rate into overdrive. The act itself might give him a full-on heart attack.
“I can’t get enough of you, Landon.” She took the glossy head into her mouth and sucked. Those gorgeous brown eyes zeroed in on his face and he thought he might come right then and there from the sight of her. His need was mindless, primal. Urgent.
It took more than simple self-restraint not to thrust hard and deep into her mouth. He wouldn’t last thirty seconds if he watched as she worked her mouth over his cock. The solution was clear. He needed something to do as well. “Turn around.” His voice was a ragged plea, but Emma didn’t stop, just kept licking and sucking, taking him deeper into her mouth as she maneuvered her body until her ass jutted close to his face. Landon worked her underwear down her hips and she kicked them off onto the floor. Now that she was finally, gloriously naked once again, he lifted her easily, setting her on top of his chest. Her sex glistened, dripping and swollen. Perfect.
Landon sealed his mouth over her clit and Emma moaned around him, the sound vibrating down his shaft right into his balls. Pleasure pooled in his gut, building and spreading to his limbs with every lick, every deep suck and nip of Emma’s teeth. Landon’s own desire spurred him into a frenzied state and he plunged his tongue into her opening before dragging it over her clit. Emma’s thighs tensed against his cheeks, and he kneaded the firm globes of her ass in his palms, spreading her wide so he could enjoy her more fully.
He held her fast as she broke contact, crying out in long drawn-out sobs as she came. He brought her down slowly with gentle flicks of his tongue until her body relaxed against him. She took him into her mouth once again, working his shaft with renewed vigor. Landon’s own orgasm teetered on the brink and when she swirled her tongue over his engorged head it sent him over the edge. His entire body trembled as she continued to lap at him greedily. The orgasm stole his breath, flooded his body with a fiery heat, and damned near short-circuited his brain as it crashed over him, wave after earth-shattering wave.
He was wrecked. Ruined. Utterly destroyed. Emma Ruiz had single-handedly undone him. He’d never be the same after tonight. The life—the man—he’d known was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Burgers and pasta weren’t exactly breakfast food, but Emma didn’t care. Besides, if you ate at four in the morning, could it even be considered breakfast yet or were they still in midnight-snack territory? Either way, she was starving.
The past several hours had been a test of endurance. Landon McCabe didn’t only have the body of a god—he had the stamina to match. She didn’t know about him, but she was absolutely exhausted and there was a pretty good chance that her legs wouldn’t be able to support her weight for a good week or two. But, Dios mio, did she ever feel good.
Pleasure continued to radiate through her. Memories of the wicked things Landon had done warmed her skin. The man could dirty-talk her straight into an orgasm, and he’d spent a half hour telling her about all of the naughty, sinful things he wanted to do to her without laying a single finger on her. When he finally touched her . . . she came within seconds. He was playful, imaginative, and drop-dead sexy. They’d made good use of the desserts at around 2 AM, and Emma suspected that the housekeeping staff would shit a brick when they saw the fudge-smeared sheets in the morning.
Wait. It was already morning, wasn’t it?
A dreamy smile curved Emma’s lips. Few women got to live out their fantasies in such a grand fashion and Landon had delivered. Tonight was definitely one for the record books.
“Can you pass the ketchup?”
Emma reached across the bed and handed Landon the little mini bottle of Heinz. They’d spread out the rest of the food picnic style on the bed, sharing from each other’s plates. Her emotions teetered toward silly. Drunk. Her eyes met Landon’s across the spread of food and both of them smiled like idiots before averting their gazes. She wanted to laugh for no reason. Laugh until she couldn’t breathe. Emma couldn’t let her emotions get out of control, though. Not when Landon might breeze out of her life as easily as he’d breezed into it.
“Do you think Sousa will contact us?”
The light, silly air was sucked right out of the room, replaced with something dark and somber. It wasn’t that she wanted to talk about all of this, but she felt as though they needed to. To form a game plan so they’d be ready to go.
“Yeah.” Landon popped a ketchup-drenched fry into his mouth and chewed. “He thinks he’s got the upper hand now. Before, he was wary of you, unwilling to make the wrong move. But you came through for him. He’ll want his money back first of course, but after that I think he’ll let your dad go.”
There was something about the way Landon refused to make eye contact with her that sent an icy chill through Emma’s extremities. He was keeping something from her. “So, I give him his money, he gives me my dad. But that won’t be the end of it, will it? Not for me anyway.”
He looked away. “Probably not.”
“Okay.” She tried not to dwell on Landon’s dark tone. “So I might be in for a little longer than I hoped. Crawford’s guy will still be there. And once Sousa buys his bomb, Damien and the rest of the feds will run in and save the day.”
She didn’t leave room for argument. Not because she didn’t doubt her own words. Because she did. To the moon and back. But there was no point in letting Landon see her fall apart. She didn’t want that. Wouldn’t be able to live with herself if he caught a glimpse of that weakness in her.
“Emma, I meant what I said. I’ll get you out of this. I promise.” Landon finally looked her straight in the eye and he said the words with such conviction that it left her shaken. “I will not, ever, let anything happen to you.”
It was the sort of reassuring, unkeepable promise spoken to someone who’d recently been handed a death sentence. Emma drew her knees up against her body and hugged her arms around them. Sousa didn’t want to hire her. He wanted her to pay for taking something that belonged to him. He wanted her dead. And Landon knew it. Hell, he’d probably known it from the start.
“My dad went to prison to protect me. Or weren’t you listening when I spilled my guts to Crawford at the hospital?” She picked at her burger, her appetite flagging. “Shanahan—under Sousa’s orders, apparently—helped to frame him and then he had the nerve to have Cesar tell my dad that they’d kill me if he didn’t confess. And that’s what Sousa made me do yesterday. Frame Shanahan the way they’d framed my dad. I’m not sorry I did it, either. I wish I could have done worse to him for what he helped do to us.”
“I was listening,” Landon replied. “Even before you spilled your guts, I suspected your dad’s confession had more to do with protecting you than anything else. Admittedly, not until a few days ago, but Crawford’s—and your—insight was pretty eyeopening. Did you know about Shanahan and the business with Mendelson before he went to prison?”
“No,” Emma admitted. “He never told me. Before he was arrested, he told me not to believe the things people would say about him, but he never looked me in the eye and said he was innocent. He didn’t tell me why he was so willing to confess to a crime that I knew he didn’t commit.”
“So you decided to find out for yourself ?”
His tone didn’t chide or ridicule her. Rather, Emma heard pride in Landon’s voice. Emotion bloomed in Emma’s chest. Damn it, it shouldn’t matter so much that Landon would be proud of her, but it did. “It wasn’t fair. I was alone, Landon. After my mom died it was just me and Dad. And then, it was only me. I couldn’t let it go. I had to know the truth.”
“And now that you know?”
“Now I know that I was basically orphaned because some greedy corporate asshole and his immoral criminal of a partner wanted to keep on being greedy a
nd immoral.” Emma cringed at her words. “Sorry. I’m sure not all corporate assholes are greedy. Or even assholes. Or immoral.”
Landon’s hawkish gaze settled on her as though he was trying to poke around in her brain. “Why apologize to me?”
“Um, well, you know.” Oh crap. Crap. Emma hadn’t exactly been forthright with Landon about some of the more questionable computer activities of her past. She doubted he’d be thrilled to know she’d basically cyber-stalked him all those years ago.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “No, actually. I don’t know.”
Heat rose to Emma’s cheeks and her stomach did one of those twisting backflips that knocked into her ribs and left a bruise. “I uh, well . . .”
Landon quirked a brow. “Yes?”
“I mean, I might have, sort of gone online and . . . oh my God, Landon. It was six years ago.” Jeez, could she stammer a little more? Maybe she should crawl under the bed and call it a day.
“I’m waiting, Emma.”
Blargh. Fine. She could fess up. Spying on Landon wasn’t half as bad as stealing millions of dollars from arms dealers. Right? “Okay, so I had a little crush on you. And I was curious about you so I dug around the Web—and a government database or two—and found out some stuff about you. Like about your family and where you grew up.” Emma paused, swallowed. Took a deep breath. “And I found your home address and phone number and stuff. All right? That’s it. That’s what I did. So that’s how I know that your dad is Hugh McCabe and your family is über rich and fancy and you’re sort of the black sheep who parted from the corporate herd to become a U.S. marshal. There. I said it. And yes, I know that hacking a government database is a crime.” Dang, she’d gotten that all out in one breath! She was a little light-headed now, but at least the confession had been made.
“Wait,” Landon said. “You had a crush on me? Like, you don’t anymore?”
That’s what he was going to take away from what she’d said? Emma grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at Landon’s head. He caught it in one hand and tucked it behind him with a laugh. “I won’t give your ego the satisfaction of answering that question.” Emma twirled a pile of fettuccini noodles onto her fork and stuffed it in her mouth. If she was chewing, he couldn’t expect her to keep talking.
“Black sheep of the corporate herd,” Landon said with a snort. He took a huge bite of cheeseburger, maybe to keep from having to talk, too. He washed it down with a swig of soda. “That’s an understatement. What your investigation didn’t tell you was that I’m more or less disinherited. Aside from a monthly stipend that shows up in my bank account once a month, my family hasn’t had anything to do with me since I graduated the academy.”
He tried to come off as though it didn’t bother him, but Emma knew better. Landon’s words radiated sadness. Family was such a precious thing. Emma had never had much of it, no one but her mom and dad. The rest of her extended family lived in Mexico and didn’t really keep in touch. The thought that Landon’s had turned their backs on him broke her heart. “Why? I mean, what you do is so important, Landon. You’re making a difference, protecting people. Taking out bad guys. What is so shameful about what you do that your family would disinherit you?”
His lips turned up in a tight, sad smile as he looked down at his plate. Emma hated the sorrow she saw in his clear blue eyes. She wanted to cross the distance between them and hold him, but she knew that her pity would only upset him. “The thing is, my dad isn’t much better than Shanahan or his partners at Mendelson. I mean, I don’t think he’s ever laundered money, or blackmailed or framed anyone, but that simply could be because no one’s ever asked him to. I definitely wouldn’t put it past the son of a bitch. I didn’t want any part of that. I didn’t want my sole motivation for life to revolve around money and how much of it I could make. And in my family, a man is measured by the numbers in his bank account.”
Emma had grown up well off, but she’d never considered herself privileged. The media painted her in that light because of the company she kept, but in reality, her own checking account looked like a pauper’s in comparison to those of her friends. And likewise, Landon’s family’s money made even Emma’s wealthiest friends look poor in comparison. And he’d walked away from all of it because he aspired to something more.
“I don’t know if my opinion matters or not, but you’re one of the best men I’ve ever known.”
Landon’s throat felt as if it were closing up. He wanted to blame it on some freak allergic reaction to his burger, but he knew better. Emotion choked him. Stole the air from his lungs until he thought his chest might collapse on itself. She didn’t know if her opinion of him mattered? Fuck, her opinion was the only one that mattered.
He’d given Galen endless amounts of shit for his starry-eyed, lovesick routine with Harper. And now, here he was, camped out on the bed after what he could only describe as the best sexual encounter of his entire life, emotions backing up in his system like a clogged drain. The only way to clear the pipes would be to let it all out, tell Emma how she made him feel. But the words wouldn’t push past the clog. And Landon wasn’t equipped with the tools necessary to get it done. One more thing he could thank his tight-assed family for: his stunted emotional growth.
“Yeah, well, you might want to reserve judgment until all of this is over. There’s a pretty good possibility I won’t have a job when it’s all said and done.”
“What do you mean? Why would you lose your job over this?”
Emma’s bemused expression only served to further warm his heart. She was so naïve sometimes, her outlook so optimistic that there wasn’t room for a single dark thought. Time to come clean. She’d made a confession to him, after all. He might as well return the favor. “After Crawford hijacked us, he basically told me to pack my shit up and go. Instead, I called in a few favors and forced my way into the operation. My chief deputy isn’t exactly happy with me, and I think we both know how Crawford feels about my intrusion.”
Emma laughed and it was time for Landon to be bemused. “I told Crawford that I wouldn’t do a damned thing for him unless they brought you in,” she said. “It was my one and only deal breaker.”
Landon’s emotional pipes clogged up a little more, further proving that it didn’t take much for Emma to get to him. Already she was under his skin, embedded to the point that he was unsure he’d ever get her out of his system. Uncharted territory for sure. And scary as hell. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
“We totally are.”
Silence descended as they finished eating. It was a companionable quiet, but it left Landon too wrapped up in his own thoughts. His gut churned with the anxiety he felt. He didn’t like variables. Complications. And Emma was both. A giant question mark planted right in the center of his life. He should have been too goddamned exhausted for this kind of stress. The hours he and Emma had spent together were unlike anything he’d ever experienced with another woman. To say he was sated—and not a little dehydrated—would be an understatement.
Beyond the panes of glass that led out to the balcony, Landon watched as the sky began to lighten. A post-storm breeze had managed to blow the clouds away, and sunrise wasn’t too far off. Another day of variables. What-ifs. Another day of hoping to God he could protect Emma. That she’d be safe.
“I need to get out of here.” The words erupted from his lips, unbidden. A familiar need pooled in his muscles, a craving for the endorphin rush he got when he climbed, parachuted, whatever. The same rush he felt when he touched Emma’s naked flesh and swallowed her passionate cries as he kissed her. Jesus. He was a fucking wreck.
Emma’s face fell. “Oh. Yeah, okay. If you need some space, I’ll be fine here by myself for a while.”
Way to make her feel like she’s the one you need to get away from, dipshit. He really should work on connecting his brain to his mouth. “No. I mean, I get a little antsy when I’m cooped up. I need to climb or jump off of something tall.” Emma’s brow knitted, which
made Landon feel even more like a caveman. Me need dive out of plane. Fall to ground fast.
“You mean like rock climbing?”
“Yeah.” He cupped the back of his neck and shrugged. “Climbing, skydiving, BASE jumping. I do a lot of kayaking in the summer.”
“So . . . you’re an adrenaline junkie?”
More and more he was beginning to think he was becoming less of an adrenaline junkie and more of an Emma Ruiz junkie. “Pretty much. I like the rush.” Free-falling from a couple hundred feet was nothing in comparison to the rush he felt with her, though.
“Most people go for a jog when they’re feeling cooped up,” Emma laughed.
“I grew up in the world’s most boring family,” he remarked. “The most exciting thing my family ever did was swim in the ocean on a trip to the Maldives. And even then my mom complained about what the salt water was doing to her hair.”
“Salt water is a killer,” Emma teased. “So, what, the first chance you got, you jumped off a bridge just to prove that you weren’t a cookie-cutter version of your plain-as-white-bread family?”
Landon drew up a leg and rested his arm on his knee. He didn’t miss the way Emma’s eyes tracked the movement, or the way her gaze warmed as it traveled the length of his body. Nor could he ignore the way his own body responded to it. “When I was fifteen, we took a trip to Hawaii. My parents gave me a wad of cash and told me to find something to do while they did their spa shit or whatever it is that rich, self-involved people do on vacation. Anyway, I took off to see the sights and I found some guys who were cliff-diving. I watched them forever. The free fall, the way they looked so at ease before they slipped into the water . . . it spoke to me, you know? So I waited until everyone left and I climbed to the top of the cliff and stared down into the churning water for a while. And then I jumped.”