Brie gripped the edge of the bar as he dragged her black tank-top up her torso, stopping at her armpits. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and lifting them. “I know I’ve told you this before, Brie, but your tits are fucking gorgeous. I love unwrapping them like Christmas presents and playing with them.”
She’d gotten used to the way men leered at her 38Ds but she loved how Jase seemed to worship them . . . along with the rest of her curvy body. He made her feel like her size-twelve figure was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He even seemed to love those pesky ten pounds she never could get rid of, which added extra curves to her hips.
Jase peeled down the cups of her bra, exposing her nipples, then left them so they pushed her breasts up a bit more. He plucked and rolled the stiff, little peaks, drawing a moan of delight from her. She could feel his thick erection through his jeans and her denim miniskirt, as he rubbed it against the crack of her ass in time to the sultry music. Reaching over to the cooler beside them, he slid the top up and retrieved two pieces of ice. Her body shivered, anticipating what he was about to do. She cried out as the frozen cubes made contact with her sensitive nipples. “Jase!”
“Hmm? Problem, sweetheart?” he asked in an amused tone as her torture continued.
The ice had the opposite effect on the rest of her body, warming her to the point her skin flushed. “N-No, Sir.”
“I didn’t think so.” He dragged one piece of the melting cube down her torso and over her skirt, then back up her bare inner thigh. “Spread those legs wide for me, Brie. Let’s see how hot you are down there. And I better not find any underwear.”
He’d texted her earlier to say he’d be coming by at closing and to remove her underwear before he got there. Just before she’d sent the other bartender home along with two of her waitresses and a busboy, she’d run upstairs to her apartment and freshened up, tossing her thong in the laundry basket. “I think you’ll find everything as ordered, Sir.”
His tongue and lips worked their way from her neck, over the thin strap of her tank top, to the curve of her shoulder and upper arm, and then back again, tasting and licking. The whiskers on his chin scraped deliciously against her skin. His hand cupped her bare, waxed mound, and she almost jumped over the bar when the ice cube made contact with her clit. “Shit!”
“Uh-uh. Open those legs, sweetheart. Give me room to work this sweet pussy into a frenzy.”
And he would, too. The man was definitely talented when it came to driving her to the brink of insanity as he pleasured her over and over again. But all at his own pace. She knew from experience if she begged him to hurry up, he’d just slow down even more until he was ready to let her cum.
Spreading her legs wide again, she gasped then squealed as he inserted the ice into her core, followed by one finger and then another. She couldn’t help her response as her hips bucked backward against his stiff cock. He slowly fucked her with his fingers, wrapping his other hand around the front of her neck possessively and cupping her chin. He moved her head this way and that, his teeth raking over her exposed flesh. Brie went up on her tiptoes as he drove her higher and higher. Her heart rate and breathing skyrocketed. Just when she thought she was going to fly, he pulled both hands from her body, and she moaned loudly in protest.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Relief is coming.”
He undid his belt and fly, then she heard him open a condom wrapper. Moments later, he tugged on her waist, forcing her back two steps until she bowed even further for him. He slid her skirt up around her waist. His denim-covered thighs brushed against the backs of her bare ones as he bent his knees and lined up the tip of his cock with her soaked pussy. With one swift thrust, he was inside her, and this time when she moaned, it was in ecstasy, and he joined her with one of his own. “Damn, so fucking hot. So incredibly tight. You’ll be the death of me one of these days, woman.”
Clutching her hips, he set an excruciatingly slow pace. The drag of his shaft against her walls was pure heaven. He repeatedly plunged into her, going deeper each time until his pelvis was slapping against her ass. Brie was climbing again—it always amazed her how fast he could do that to her. The silenced jukebox barely registered in her mind. She had no idea how long it’d been since the song had ended. The only sounds filling the bar now were flesh hitting flesh and the combined groans and gasps of the two lovers.
“Ready, baby? Hold on tight.” Jase picked up the pace . . . faster . . . harder. Reaching around her hip, he found her little clit with his fingers and rubbed furiously. Brie braced herself, her palms digging into the edge of the bar. Her climax hit her like a freight train, and she exploded around him, screaming his name. Black, white, and gray spots danced before her closed eyelids, and her legs shook to the point she thought they’d give out. His fingers prolonged her orgasm, pulling every ounce of energy from her. “That’s it, baby. Damn, what you do to me should be illegal.”
He gave a final thrust and his body stiffened against hers as he emptied his seed into the latex barrier. Brie collapsed, her head dropping between her outstretched arms. The only things holding her up were her hands and Jase’s grip on her hips. His fingers had dug into her flesh, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she had little bruises in the morning. She wouldn’t mind, though, because the intense pleasure she’d just experienced had been well worth them—totally worth them.
Bending at the waist and molding his body to hers, Jase gasped for breath. The overhead fans cooled their heated skin as they both recovered from the intense pleasure they’d shared. Sliding from her body, Jase helped her stand up and kissed her bare shoulder. “One of these days, we’ve really gotta try naked sex down here.”
“I know.” She giggled. “But you never seem to have the patience to strip all the way.”
“I blame that hot body of yours.” Jase tossed the used condom and then they both straightened their clothes. Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the stairs that led to her apartment. “C’mon. I’ll help you clean up in the morning. Let’s go get properly naked because I’m not done with you yet.”
Have mercy.
Blinking at the morning sun slipping through the window blinds, Jase stretched the kinks out of his muscles. The aroma of fresh coffee reached his nose as he rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. According to the bedside clock, it was a little after 9:00 a.m. It still amazed him how well he slept in Brie’s bed, but he’d rather believe it was because of the feather mattress and pillows, and not the woman who snored softly and adorably in her sleep. They’d gone into this . . . relationship—or whatever the hell it was—with a clear and concise agreement. That was one of the things he liked about the BDSM lifestyle he’d been introduced to by a friend eighteen months earlier. Negotiations and verbal or written contracts took the guesswork out of any sexual relationship. He and Brie knew just where they stood with each other. They were friends with benefits, nothing more.
Throwing the sheets off his naked body, he stumbled to the bathroom and made use of the toilet. After washing his hands, he searched the bedroom floor and found his shorts near the closet door. With his T-shirt nowhere in sight, he made his way out to the open floor plan of the apartment, absentmindedly running his hand over the scar from a bullet wound on the left side of his ribcage. Brie was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the news on her laptop, just like she did every morning he slept over. Her feet were up on the chair, tucked in, with her thighs against her chest. He grinned when he saw she was wearing his missing shirt and had it pulled over her knees. It was big enough on her that it was barely being stretched. He kissed her on the top of her blonde head. “Morning.”
Her smile was radiant as she glanced up at him. “Morning. Coffee’s all set for you. I made that Colombian mix you gave me a few weeks ago.”
“Excellent.” He’d gotten it straight from the local source when he’d been in the country on a case. He’d been contracted to check out a possible connection to a money laundering scheme for Ian Sawyer, his occas
ional boss at Trident Security in Tampa, Florida. Jase couldn’t take any cases within the continental United States, and he avoided the US Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico if possible. It was far too risky for him to be in any part of the USA. He was constantly looking over his shoulder no matter where he was, but he was less likely to run into someone who wanted to kill him on foreign soil. He took whatever jobs Sawyer and a few other security companies and black-ops agencies sent his way. Once in a while, he even took the occasional bodyguard job for businessmen going into dangerous areas of either Central or South America where there was always the threat of American, Canadian, or British kidnappings for ransom.
As he grabbed a clean mug from the dish rack, Brie stood and opened the refrigerator. “Are you hungry? I’ve got eggs, veggies, and cheese for omelets.”
Jase silently pushed away the thoughts of domestic bliss from his mind. That was for other people . . . definitely not for him. And Brie didn’t want anything other than what they already had, not that he could give her more. “Actually, I’ve got to hit the road,” he lied, taking a sip of the delicious black coffee. “I promised Jacob I’d help him with a scuba run if I was back on the island in time.” That part was true, but he didn’t have to be at the dock until 11:00 a.m. “But thanks.”
Instead of making herself an omelet, she pulled out a container of cubed cantaloupe and melon. When she placed it on the counter, he set his coffee mug next to it, then grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over her head. As he’d suspected, she was naked underneath.
“Hey!” Brie cried in feigned protest as she was left standing in the kitchen in her birthday suit. He grinned, knowing, by now, she was comfortable enough with her body around him not to be mad or embarrassed. Outside of their little cocoon though, he knew she was always silently comparing herself to thinner women. She had delectable curves in all the right places, and yet, had no idea how many men lusted after her in the bar each night. She laughed off their advances as harmless flirting, telling them they needed glasses or had had one too many, jokingly adding that she might have to cut them off. If she only knew how most of the men, and some of the women, who visited her establishment, couldn’t keep their eyes off her ass. And the rest of her was just as gorgeous as her posterior. High, perky tits, tantalizing hips and thighs, dancing green eyes, and a beautiful, yet slightly asymmetrical smile combined to make an enticing package.
Tossing the shirt onto a chair, he put his hands on her waist and picked her up, setting her on the counter after pushing the mug and fruit out of the way. Her voice became husky for him. “Jase, what are you doing?”
He pushed her knees apart and squatted in front of her. “I decided to have breakfast after all.”
C
HAPTER 2
A nnoyed, Jase ignored the female tourist’s flirtation, but if she touched him again, he might just toss her in the ocean to cool off. She’d been taking every opportunity to put her hands on his bare arms and chest as she spoke to him, and had even tried to run her fingers through his hair. Thankfully, the charter boat had rocked hard on a wave at that very moment, and she’d had to grab the railing with both hands to keep from falling overboard. In addition to being about twenty years older than his own thirty-five, she was with her husband, who seemed oblivious to her advances toward someone else. He was too busy bragging to his two friends about how much money he’d made in his latest stock market acquisition. Back in the day, the woman had probably been a trophy wife—maybe ten years or so younger than her husband. The bleached blonde, with surgically-enhanced tits, ass, and God-knew what else, had a body most men would be drooling over, despite her age. She had the curves to perfectly fill out the white string bikini she wore, but it did nothing for Jase, and he wished she’d just leave him alone. But he had to be polite, since the scuba dive business belonged to his good friend, who’d helped him get certified.
The woman took a step closer to him, her intent shining in her eyes, just as his satellite phone rang. He’d brought it instead of his cell, since they were heading toward a shipwreck a half hour west of the island and cellular service wasn’t available. “Excuse me, Mrs. Wentworth, I need to take this.” A disappointed pout appeared on her Botoxed face, but he didn’t care and moved toward the front of the boat, out of hearing range of the others onboard. Glancing at the screen before answering the call, he noted the familiar Tampa number. After pushing the connect button, he brought the phone to his ear. “Atwood.”
“Hey, dude, it’s Brody. How’s life in the tropics?” Brody “Egghead” Evans was a retired Navy SEAL and computer wizard who worked with his former Team Four teammates at Trident Security. Usually Evans or their other geek, Nathan Cook, were the ones who gave Jase the intel he needed for whatever case he was being contracted for.
“Sunny, hot, and humid. But I doubt you called to discuss the weather.”
“Nope. Just called to thank you for the intel this morning.” Jase had sent his detailed report via encrypted email when he’d gone back to his apartment to change before heading to the docks. “You saved me and Boomer a lot of leg work. Instead of a week or two in South America, we’ll be able to get in and out within a couple of days, tops.
“My fiancée thanks you for that, too. My mom and sisters are helping her plan the wedding in Texas, and she’s a little overwhelmed with all the phone calls, emails, and questions, so I’m acting as a go-between when I can. That’s what happens when you marry into a large family from the Lone Star State.”
Jase had never met Fancy Maguire, but he couldn’t help but notice the obvious adoration in the man’s tone whenever he spoke of the woman who’d won his heart. “Glad I could be of service.”
“I gave Colleen the invoice, and she’ll transfer the money into your account after lunch.”
He hadn’t expected any different. Trident’s office manager was extremely efficient and, unless it was the weekend, it was rare he had to wait more than a few hours to get paid. “That’s great. Thank her for me.”
“Will do. At first glance, I didn’t see anything that needs clarification, but I’ll take a good look through the report later this afternoon. If I have questions, phone or email?”
Jase checked his watery surroundings and noted which tiny, mostly uninhabited islands were nearby; they were about ten minutes away from where they’d be anchoring the boat and diving down to the wreck. “Better make it email, unless it’s after five. I’m helping a buddy out with a couple of diving tours for a few hours.”
“Sounds good. Devil Dog said he’s got nothing else for you at the moment, but you know that could change in a heartbeat. Have fun diving, and I’ll catch you later.”
“Later.” Ending the call, he stuck the phone in the pocket of his cargo shorts. He had a few more minutes before he needed to head below and pull on his dive suit for the first tour. They’d be underwater at thirty-five feet for about forty minutes before returning to the docks and taking a new group out about a half hour later for the second dive of the day. With the hour round-trip cruising time, that gave Jase and the Divemaster almost two hours in between submersions—enough to get rid of the nitrogen that had built up in their blood before going underwater again.
A quick check down the port side of the boat told him Mrs. Wentworth was waiting to go on the offensive again if he went back that way, so he adjusted his course to the starboard side. Halfway to the stern, he grabbed the upper rungs of the ladder leading to the bridge. Hauling himself up, he joined Jacob Moore, the captain, at the controls.
The gray-haired man was in his late sixties, but his sun-weathered skin added a few more years to his face. He’d been running his scuba-diving business for over three decades and swore he’d continue to his dying day—Jase believed him, too. When that happened, his great nephew, Richie Moore, who was below with the tourists, would inherit the business. At twenty-six, the kid had already been a Divemaster for two years. There was another full-time employee of Coral Tours, but he’d been sidelined wit
h a broken leg from a recent moped accident. There were also a few per diem divers who filled in whenever they could while still working their other jobs, whatever they might be.
Jacob eyed him, then spoke loudly enough to be heard over the roaring engines. “How was your trip?” The boat captain was well aware of what he did for a living—to a point—although Jase had glossed over his past quite a bit. The two men had met and bonded over a few beers the first time Jase had stopped into Daddy-O’s for a drink one night about six months ago. Jacob came across as an old grouch to most people but he had a sharp eye and a keen sense for judging whether those around him were a threat or not—said it came from his days in the British Royal Marines many years ago.
The wind blew through his hair as he spread his legs wide to stabilize himself against the waves left over from a brief storm that’d rolled through very early that morning. “Good. In. Out. No troubles. Got what my client needed.”
“No troubles is best.”
Crossing his arms, Jase stared out at the vast, blue sea before them. Caicos, with its surrounding saltwater and other islands, was closer to heaven than any other place he’d ever been to around the globe. He would have given anything for his life to have been different. He wished he could have discovered the beautiful isle long before he had so he could have enjoyed the peacefulness he’d found there for longer than the past two years. But fate was often a cruel bitch, and she’d set her sights on him and come at him with full force for whatever reason. Some might say he was being given a second chance to have the life he’d seen others enjoying over the years, but Jase wouldn’t agree. He’d seen and experienced far too much evil in his life and was jaded against anything others might consider to be a happy-ever-after.
Salvaging His Soul: Trident Security Book 8 Page 2