Scars: A Killers Novel, Book 5

by Brynne Asher

  Her smile is tighter than my dress and she turns, escaping my glittery charms.

  Randolph is also on the move, shaking hands and politicking his way through the masses. I stand so I can be seen and collect my clutch, knowing Cole will be close behind. Probably too close—we’ll have a chat about that later.

  I start for Randolph but slow when he changes course and storms toward the exit. I’ve worked too hard to be here tonight and cannot allow him to get away. As quick as I can in my fancy new shoes, I follow.

  He’s out the door and I have to double time it to keep up. I ignore the twinge of pain zinging through my midsection and silently curse the fact I’m not up to par. I miss my healthy body and took it for granted.

  Randolph takes a right and slides behind the coat check counter closed for the season, and disappears behind a door. I peek in before following and find rows upon rows of tall mahogany garment racks. I move quickly over the worn carpet to the right, behind a set of lockers—their keys dangling from the locks. The place is a ghost town since it’s currently hotter than hades in Virginia.

  Randolph paces and mutters profanities. Peeking around the corner, I see him put his cell to his ear. “We need to talk before you leave. I won’t put up with this shit. I’m in the coat check room.”

  I silently open my clutch and pull back the lining I tucked away perfectly. I’d bet all the pounds I’ve earned with blood and sweat during my time in Pakistan that he called my new friend, the reporter. Normally, I wouldn’t need to arm myself with the likes of the two of them, but since I’m not up to snuff, I slide out the narrow switchblade I found in the back of Cole’s dresser drawer. I doubt he even knew it was there. His things are that untidy.

  As I witness Randolph fray at the seams into a pile of tangled knots, I flinch but don’t make a sound when a big hand wraps around my mouth.

  I grip my knife and ignore the pain, whipping around only to come nose to nose with the man who’s supposed to stay far, far away but can’t seem to stick with the plan. He isn’t careful or gentle when his other arm wraps around me like a band of steel, pressing his front into mine, gluing me to the end cap of the lockers. We’re out of sight but definitely not out of earshot. If he blows this for me, I might stab him with his own knife.

  His hand slides off my mouth and his index finger presses against my blood red lips. Shaking his head, he tips it toward the entrance of the coat room as he slides his thick thigh between mine.

  I put my arms on his biceps and push but he’s having none of it. Instead he does something he’s yet to do since I arrived in the States.

  He touches me.

  He really touches me, like we haven’t had a half a world separating us, or our careers, or his loyalty and love for Abbott, or Red, or even my fucked-up situation all keeping us apart.

  This is not like his touch while I was in the hospital or in his bed, supporting my weight so I’m comfortable to rest.

  No.

  He touches me.

  The way he did back when we were an us and we couldn’t get enough of the other.

  Even with Randolph on the other side of the lockers, pacing more holes into the mossy carpet, Cole slides his hand down, hot on my skin, and over my gold necklace. He rips at the garment tape and pushes the material to the side, exposing my breast.

  Palming me—or pawing at me—I can’t tell what mood he’s in right now besides completely and irritatingly exasperating.

  My eyes widen and I mouth, “What are you doing?”

  And do you know what the arse does?

  He smiles.

  He bloody smiles as he pinches my nipple.

  I have to clamp my jaw shut to not scream in his face or moan from the electric current shooting between my legs.

  “I don’t appreciate you summoning me, Charles. If you want to reconsider my offer so badly, come to me next time.”

  I freeze but Cole does not.

  He’s so close I can taste his breath when I wet my lips, exhaling when his hand slides down my body leaving my breast exposed.

  “I don’t have time for you or your bullshit, Marie. We’re done and we’ve been done for months.”

  “This is not about us and you know it. I told you what I want.”

  Cole tips his head and hikes a brow as if we’re taking in a film, and a mildly interesting twist was thrown into the mediocre plot. But instead of asking me to pass the popcorn, he reaches between us and yanks my dress up by the slit.

  I shake my head. We cannot do this, especially not here. Cole Carson is incorrigible, even while on assignment. He always was and it seems nothing has changed.

  With the weight of his wide chest pressing me to the lockers, I bite my lip when he fully cups me between my legs.

  My adrenaline skyrockets and my skin zings at his touch.

  Marie goes on. “You have two choices and I suggest you pick the smart one—I want twenty-five percent of your cut.”

  Cole’s hand tightens on my sex and his eyes widen at the current development happening on the other side of the room.

  That is, right before he dips a finger into the gusset of my thong, swiping a finger through me.

  Bloody, Cole.

  “If you don’t pay up, guess who’ll be the lead story on every news network from here to the South Pole?”

  I squeeze my eyes when he slides a finger inside me, followed by another. Damn, I’ve missed him.

  “You have no proof,” Randolph argues.

  “Try me,” Marie dares. From the sound of her voice, I wouldn’t take her up on that. “I figured it all out. So either I get rich off your little side hustle or I get a slew of job offers from national networks. Either way, I win. The choice is yours—go to jail or give up a quarter of your kickbacks.”

  Blackmail. But it’s not enough. I need to know why he’s getting kickbacks.

  I exhale silently and Cole tips his forehead to mine, yanking my panties to the side. I try to squeeze my legs together but his thick thigh is giving him all the access he wants.

  And he takes it.

  I shudder when his eyes bore into mine at the same moment his finger swipes my clit. Instead of allowing him to press me into the wall of lockers, I can’t help myself, and lean into him. My breasts to his chest. My face to his neck. My pussy to his hand.

  Because … holy hell.

  “There are no kickbacks, Marie. You have no clue what you’re talking about. Tell me what you think you know and I’ll explain.”

  “Right.” Marie laughs evilly as Cole circles my clit harder. “I have copies of the wire transfers. What percentage did you weasel out of them, huh? DefenseJet’s bids are always the highest, yet you continually make sure they get awarded every contract by the Department of Defense.”

  Cole leans back far enough to make eye contact with my hooded ones after that ditty of information. But he doesn’t stop and I’m not sure I’d want him to if I were in a position to ask. Barely able to stand on my own two Louboutins, I’m halfway to an orgasm that feels so strong, I’m actually afraid of it.

  And I’m not afraid of anything.

  “You stupid bitch,” Randolph bites. “I will take you down and ruin your reputation. You won’t be able to get a job reading the traffic report in the middle-of-fucking-nowhere Wyoming. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Who knows? You might not even make it across the country to your new shit job.”

  Cole’s phone vibrates against me through his tux but nothing stops him. Not the blackmail, not the death threat, and definitely not a phone call. He starts to fuck me with two fingers as he grinds the palm of his hand into my now swollen and desperate clit. My poor, lonely clit has been in solitary for so long. At this point, if Randolph rounds the corner to find us, I might not care. Obviously, I would, eventually, but only after Cole finished what he started.

  “Try me, Charles. Fucking try me. This is not my first rodeo in this town. I have copies of the wire transfers in so many places, it’ll make your big, fat
head spin. Especially if something happens to me—but do you know what? I’ll do you the favor and send you a copy. Watch for it in your email. I’ll even send it to your official government account so there will be record of it—for-fucking-ever. I’m considerate like that.”

  Cole’s eyes drag down my body and he brings his other hand up to maul my bare breast. I press into his hands, both of them, and my ears begin to tunnel.

  Cole’s damn phone vibrates again.

  “Okay, let’s talk about this.” Randolph’s tone turns desperate. “Let’s meet on Tuesday. I promise, we’ll work this out. I’m leaving tomorrow, I have a meeting down south, but I swear, I’ll make this right. Give me forty-eight hours.”

  “You’re going to St. John, aren’t you? Who are you taking this time?”

  My eyes fly open but not because of Randolph’s travel news. I am a woman, I can do two things at once. Cole’s hand between my legs freezes. He looks down at me where I’m slumped against him and his lips pucker to shush me.

  The arse is toying with me as I gulp for air.

  And just like that, Randolph sounds like he has the upper hand. “Jealousy doesn’t become you, darling. It never did.”

  Marie’s tone turns to granite. “I’m not jealous, jackass. I’m impatient. And for the record, you’re a lazy fuck and I faked every orgasm you thought you gave me.”

  Cole bites back a smirk.

  Someone’s moving. I try to reach for what little neckline my gown has but Cole stops me and shakes his head.

  “Tuesday, Charles,” Marie raises her voice. “Or be ready for a shitstorm that’ll rival cigars in the Oval Office!”

  Cole is still holding me hostage, cupping me. With no choice, I grip the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and hold my breath. I’m pretty sure one of them is still here. I turn my head to the side and would love to peek around the corner if my dress weren’t askew to hell and back.

  I’m about to push him away—for real this time—when the tones of a cell break through the stale room like fireworks.

  I look up to Cole and widen my eyes.

  Marie speaks with enough malice to take down a small city. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m positive he’s leaving for his place on St. John tomorrow.”

  And dammit, Cole’s phone might vibrate through his new tux jacket.

  For the love. There’s only so much multitasking a woman can manage.

  Chapter 16

  Like Old Times

  Cole

  My brain is filing everything away while my cock is rock hard with the rage I’ve been fighting all night.

  Hell, I’ve been fighting it for a long time, trying to get Bella out of her mess and into my bed. Since she’s finally under my roof and sleeping next to me every night, I’m halfway there but still have a long way to go.

  I have a plan. Granted, this was not part of it. But I’m adaptable and took advantage of the fact Bella could not rip me a new one or tackle me to the ratty-ass floor, because I would have let her. I’ll sanction any activity if it means physical contact, even if I end up with bruises in the end.

  But she’s so wet and even more ready. I’m patting myself on the back for jerking off in the shower while getting ready for tonight, otherwise I might come in my pants like a teenager.

  “I need to be careful. He threatened me and we all know how things ended with his staffer three years ago during a hunting accident. I do not need to be hit in the head with a stray bullet from the next field over.”

  Bella’s grip on my jacket tightens and her eyes grow big. I don’t want her to come yet but I’m fighting the need to see her fall apart in my arms. I push into her pussy and clit enough to keep her teetering on the edge.

  “Do it,” Kasey demands and it sounds like she’s on the move. “Put a copy in your safety deposit box and mail another to my PO address. I’ll call you tomorrow with the rest of the details.”

  Bella and I freeze for a second as Kasey mumbles to herself about the asshole she’s currently blackmailing. We wait. Ten seconds turn to twenty, and those into thirty, all the while, I stay connected to Bella in every way I want to from here to fucking eternity.

  I exhale and say the first words either of us have uttered since I found her in here. “Kiss me.”

  She shakes her head.

  I pump my fingers and circle my palm on her clit. “Kiss me. It’s time. Give it up, sweetness.”

  She pulls on my jacket and stuffs her face into my neck. “I can’t.”

  She starts to move, grinding herself onto my hand. My fucking phone won’t give it a rest and if it didn’t require taking my hands off her, I’d throw it across the room. “I’m going to make you come either way. What I really want to do is rip your dress off and fuck you against these lockers until we both forget the rest of the world, but we don’t have the time. But the kiss … it’s in your court.”

  “Cole,” she murmurs into my neck and her tit rises and falls under my touch as her breaths labor.

  “Gave yourself to me once, baby. Do it again.”

  She doesn’t have the chance to answer. Her pussy pulsates on my fingers. Her arms become a desperate clench around my neck and her fingers dive into my hair.

  It’s been too long. Since the goodbye sex when she tried to make me promise to leave her be. I’ve never gone this long without Isabella Donnelly since our hostile first encounter when we met.

  She gasps and I have to hold her to keep her on her feet but I don’t let up. Rubbing, finger fucking … her moans shooting straight to my dick, which is cursing me. I push her back into the bank of lockers to help support her weight and her grip on me doesn’t let up.

  I can’t help but think back to when I first had her like this. We were in Italy. Our first assignment together went so well, our agencies whisked us off to a new case, a bigger one. There has never been anything but sparks between Bella and me—big and bright and hot. The first time I put my mouth on her, we had just infiltrated a group for the first time and things got dicey for about two minutes. I thought we might actually have to call for backup to get our asses out of there alive.

  My blood was racing, and though I didn’t know it until later because she looked as cool as a frozen cocktail on a hot summer day, hers was too. Together, we turned it around and won their trust. But after…

  After.

  When we got back to our hotel, we barely made it to the elevator. I didn’t just kiss her, I devoured her. She practically climbed me. After two months of working together with sexual tension tighter than a hammy after sprinting a marathon, we both succumbed to what we’d been silently pushing away.

  I thought that was it, that we’d finally give in and fuck each other’s brains out, working off the high we both got off on from the job.

  And we about did. For the first time since I’d met her, her tone turned hesitant even though I knew for a fact she didn’t have one uncertain bone in her beautiful body. It was the moment she muttered the words I’ll never forget…

  I’ve never.

  A five-gallon bucket of Gatorade at the end of an MLB game is nothing compared to what I experienced. My young Brit never failed to surprise me.

  She was a virgin.

  We didn’t fuck each other’s brains out that night but I also didn’t leave her. I slowed things down to a snail’s pace and gave her two orgasms. Then I found out I was the only man who ever touched her that way and that was it—there was no walking away. Not that I wanted to before.

  Nail my coffin shut, I was a goner for Isabella Donnelly.

  I slept with her that night while sporting the most severe case of blue balls in my life. I actually slept, with her in my arms, all night long—and I’d never done that with anyone. It was the night we began all our firsts.

  I sure didn’t think it would happen so soon, but two days later, she became mine. When she handed over her virginity, I took it like a man on the brink of death and she was my only lifeline.

  “Kiss me.” My demand is desperate. I�
�m not proud of it but I also can’t help it. I’m two weeks into our deal and having her half-naked with my hand between her legs could really backfire on me. I didn’t plan on this when I followed her in here but, I’m not sorry.

  At least, I’m not sorry yet. And even if I might be sorry later, it won’t be by much.

  “Cole.” She shakes her head into my neck, catching her breath and coming back down to earth from the ride I just gave her. “No. This is too complicated as it is. We can’t throw us back into the mix.”

  “But this is you and me. This is what the high does to us. You melted under my touch and the only reason I’m not buried balls deep inside you right now is because when I have you again, it’s not going to be like this.” My grip on her tightens. “And there’s the fact you haven’t kissed me. But our bet stands.”

  She drags her eyes open. “Clearing my name is the only thing I can focus on right now.”

  “We’re close,” I argue. “We haven’t figured it out yet but what we learned tonight is huge. We can have both.”

  My damn phone vibrates again and we continue to ignore it. Her eyes are calculating and she might not look exactly like my Bella, but having her here in my arms, she is through and through.

  “I’m going to St. John,” she says.

  I nod and pull my hand out from under her dress not bothering to fix her panties. “You bet your ass you are. And I’m coming with you.”

  She shakes her head and pushes me back. This time I allow it and she starts to fix her dress. “Absolutely not—”

  I hold one hand up and pull my damn phone out of my pocket with the other because it seems Crockett and Tubbs can’t follow directions and leave me the fuck alone for an evening. It’s not like they couldn’t hear everything that went down, and I don’t give two shits about it. “You’re not going down there alone. And there’s no way I can drum up a passport by tomorrow anyway. Crew should be able to arrange a flight—I can get you in and out of the country easier.”

  “Yes, I guess there’s that,” she mutters and I see her fight slowly return as her post-orgasmic mood evaporates. She motions between the two of us as she picks up her purse and my knife off the floor. “We’ll talk about this later—what just happened—Cole. You and your shenanigans while on surveillance, I swear.”