Blaine, Destiny - Breakfast by the Sea (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Destiny Blaine

  She yawned, and Adam arched a brow. “I wore her out. Ask her,” Connor teased.

  “That ego of yours deserves its own name,” she groaned.

  “Tell me about it,” Connor said. “Of course that’s not the only thing.” He grabbed his front bulge and gave a crude gesture.

  “Lord, Connor. Is your penis all you think about?” she asked.

  “No,” he admitted. “But by the end of the week, it may be the only thing on your mind.”

  “You’re dreaming,” she muttered, turning her attention toward the door.

  Callan came in long enough to shoot her a wink and a lopsided smile. “Guess the beer will have to stay on ice.”

  “No problem,” she chirped. “Maybe another time.”

  “I’d like that,” Callan said. He was so darn sweet and adorable, but sexually? She had a feeling he and Connor weren’t even in the same league.

  By that time, Miles appeared. He had a few crisp one hundred dollar bills he immediately counted out to Callan. Once they started flashing the cash, Connor eyed her like she was a bought and paid-for whore.

  Maybe she had been. Perhaps she wanted to be. Maybe it was time to go to bed with a man she found appealing, someone who knew how to make a woman feel desired.

  No. She shook her head without realizing she’d done anything at all. She did not want to sleep with a dangerous man ever, ever again—especially one skilled in weaponry. A smothering sensation reminded her of why, and she immediately ran for the bathroom, sick to her stomach.

  “What did I say?” Connor soon called out from the other side of the door.

  Breathe. She’d forgotten the past. She’d left those horrible memories behind, right? She choked, gagging over the sink and trying to think of anything other than Ramone and the time she spent with him.

  Get it together, Paige! She’d taken a quick tumble across the bed with one man. Had it been so bad? No. She’d survived. She’d done more than survive! She enjoyed the kiss. Connor made her feel alive. For the first time in ages, she felt something.

  Standing in front of the vanity, she splashed cool water on her face. What was going on here? Where was this so-called operation heading, and why did she feel such a loss of control?

  She knew the answer. She was running scared. What if Connor had been trying to warn her? Could she be their target? What if her worst fears materialized, and they were there to pursue her? Did they already know she’d been associated with Ramone Carpasia?

  She grabbed a hand towel and dabbed the beads of perspiration away from her forehead. “First,” she said, looking in the mirror, “you did not romp across the bed with a man. You kissed, made out. What the fuck ever. And you survived.”

  “Are you talking to yourself again?” Connor asked, knocking on the door and letting himself in.

  “I locked that door.”

  He showed off a tiny metal tool with a hook on the end. “I’ve picked every door ever slammed in my face. Being shut out is a pet peeve of mine.”

  “I see.”

  “About that kiss…”

  “Forget about it.”

  “I don’t want to.” He took a step forward, reached behind his back, closed, and locked the door. “In fact, I want to kiss you again.”

  “Don’t,” she said, pushing him away. “I don’t like being behind closed doors with strange men.”

  He laughed. “Really. Last I heard—from your sweet lips, by the way—you get off on sleeping with strangers.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Sounds good, though, doesn’t it?”

  “No,” she said, trying to move by him.

  “Come on, baby. I’ve got about ten minutes before we leave. Give me something to think about.” He tried to go for her lips again. This time he missed.

  “I said, ‘I don’t like being behind closed doors with men I don’t know,’ and you should respect that.”

  He backed off with his hands in the air. “Okay. Fine. You don’t like the crazy, wham-bam, clothes ripping everywhere kind of scenario. I’ll wait. I can wait. But you can count on this. It will happen. That day will come.”

  Angry, she refused to give a rebuttal. She walked out and rejoined the others. Adam was going over something with Miles and Callan.

  “Everything all right?” Callan asked.

  “No, everything is not all right. And nothing will be the same until all of you get the hell out of here.”

  Chapter Five

  “They’ve gone,” Adam said, joining her outside. “The guys will probably stay at a roadside motel tonight. We should be fine without backup.”

  “You mean, we’ll be able to protect ourselves since I can whirl a knife better than anyone on your team?”

  His eyes met hers. He might as well start somewhere. “My men don’t have the arsenal you have in your cellar. I suppose there’s a reason for your stockpile, but I can’t imagine what. If there’s not, then we’d better get you out of here. Average Joes don’t leave behind grenade launchers and M16 rifles. Whoever stashed their gear in your basement will probably come back.”

  “The stuff is mine.”

  “You don’t say?” he asked, pulling up a chair.

  “He sent you for me, didn’t he?”

  “Who?” Adam had told the guys he’d have to pull teeth to get the information he wanted. Apparently, he’d underestimated himself.

  She thinned her lips and sat quietly for several minutes. First to speak always lost, he thought, refusing to go against what he truly believed.

  He’d give Paige a little time and allow her the opportunity to break the silence with some kind of substantial revelation. He needed something to go on, anything to help him piece together why a woman in her early forties packed the kind of gear any branch of the military would gladly take off her hands.

  Her cheeks swelled with air, and she exhaled all at once. “Have you ever had a secret, a devastating black mark on your personal history that threatened to ruin you if anyone knew the truth?”

  “Sure,” he said softly. “Everyone has skeletons.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course.”

  “I have a lot of skeletons. A lot of ghosts. Maybe even a few demons.”

  Adam leaned back. It was a beautiful night for a heart to heart talk. The breeze picked up speed, and the night air was ripe for a confession. But he couldn’t push her. Paige needed to talk on her own time.

  That had always been Adam’s problem. When he was married to Darla, he had wanted to say everything that needed to be said as quickly as possible. When he directed his team, he wanted to coordinate the details and be done with logistics. He liked to rush through the small talk and move straight for the action.

  This wasn’t one of those times when tripping over words and acting agitated when he heard too many of them would pay off. Dragging out important information, crucial intel, was like making love. There was foreplay involved, maybe a little song and dance, before anyone stripped away barriers.

  Adam would focus on developing a connection and establishing trust. Then, he’d reel her right on in. It was up to him to make sure Paige felt comfortable enough to reveal her soul, especially if she carried guilt.

  He had to take his time, create the safe place, and then nurture it, feed it. That’s how an interrogator found a satisfying conclusion. He took things slow, and when he finally reached a climactic moment, he started searching for another disclosure, something bigger and better than the first.

  “Want to tell me about yourself?”

  She shook her head.

  Yeah, this was exactly why he sat there as a divorced man. He was impatient as fuck. Darla once told him his inability to communicate drove her into the arms of other men. Apparently, there were several out there who spoke Darla’s language.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “We’ve established that, haven’t we? We’re here on business and it’s classified.”

  “Which is w
hy you lied about the rodeo thing?”

  He watched her closely. He’d stretched the truth when he’d made the bed and breakfast reservations under false pretenses, but he hadn’t lied about being a cowboy. Maybe he should tell her about the ranch. Would she relate to him any better? Possibly. That is, if she had a thing for cowboys.

  On the other hand, giving Paige a glimpse inside the place he called home would provide insight into his life, something he couldn’t risk. Besides, she’d never see the farm, and if she had so many secrets, did he want to reveal a lot about his own life? Not really.

  She stood and stretched, tossing her hair over slender shoulders. Dressed in a white terrycloth pantsuit, Paige possessed the kind of body built for a man’s hands. Adam itched to push his fingers through her long hair and stare into her dark brown eyes. What he’d give to drive her crazy and lead her to bed.

  When the silence became overbearing, she said, “I love JekyllIsland and have a passion for water. I’ve lived all over the world, and as long as I’m near the shore, I’m home. My address could be Italy, Spain, here, or anywhere else, but if I’m near the ocean, I’m satisfied, comfortable.”

  “Are you satisfied now?”

  “Didn’t you listen to what I said?”

  Adam sighed. His ex-wife had been right. He had lousy listening skills. “You seem nervous, but we just met today. Maybe I’m interpreting your body language the wrong way or something.”

  She swirled around, dropped her arms to her sides, and approached him. “What is my body language saying now?” Her nipples pressed through the crop top she wore, and he swore under his breath.

  “You use the promise of sex to change the subject. You’re a tease, Paige. My men know it. I can see it. With what we’ve already witnessed, I would say your body language only drives home my point. You’re apprehensive. You’re scared to be alone with me, afraid of what will happen. Still, it makes no difference to you which man you try and seduce. All we are to you is a game. You started playing us from the second we walked in here. But your intentions are shallow.”

  “You seem to have all the answers.” She backed away. “Okay, so what if that’s me in a nutshell?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait and find out, won’t we?” He knew how to stop a good thing. Why didn’t he just let her seduce him? “Paige, how long have you lived here?”

  “Five years.”

  “Hmm…” he muttered. “Do you see anyone on a regular basis?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “One I’d like you to answer.”

  “I don’t have anyone serious in my life.”

  “Have you been out on a date since you moved here?”

  “The business occupies most of my time.”

  “I’m sure,” Adam said.

  “My father left his finances in disarray. The house needed a lot of work. I took care of most of the remodeling, painting, and whatnot by myself.”

  “Tell me about your dad.”

  “There’s not much to tell. I loved my dad. He was a strong man, the kind of person who was supposed to live forever.”

  Adam detected the sadness in her voice. She must’ve loved him very much. That’s when it occurred to him. He hadn’t seen pictures of her father. In fact, the entire bed and breakfast was devoid of family photographs. He wondered why.

  “What about your mother?”

  “I don’t remember her.” A beat later, she said, “She died young. I was two years old.”

  “How did she die?”

  Paige swallowed hard. “She was killed. It was a random shooting. She was in New York and got caught in the crossfire of a gang war.”

  Adam didn’t believe her. She couldn’t make eye contact. Now, Paige was not only a person of interest on a personal level, but he was also beginning to look at her from a professional standpoint. She was sketchy, someone with a torrid past about to catch up with her.

  “Do you play cards, Adam?”

  What a random question. “Not much.”

  “Not even Rook or Uno? Don’t you have a favorite pastime in between missions?”

  “I toss hay and piddle around the farm when I’m home,” he stated flatly. “We have a lot to take care of, and the work piles up while we’re away.”

  “Oh, come on now, I’m sure you have time for cards. Don’t you have a favorite game?”

  “Monopoly.”

  “I asked if you played cards, not board games.”

  What does she know? “I play a little poker every now and then.”

  “What kind of cards do you use?”

  “Cheap ones.”

  Paige straddled his lap, shocking him and his lower body almost to the point of garnering an immediate reaction. “Tell me something, Adam,” she said, loosening his tie. “If I pulled up a chair at your poker table…” The tie fell in two independent pieces, one on either side of his neck. “Would you show me the full deck?”

  Her palms flattened against his stomach. His lips went to hers. She ground against him. Good damn, she could kiss a man into a raging hard-on!

  Paige’s scent filled his senses. Raspberry and cream shampoo mixed with something expensive right behind her ear. He breathed her in, savoring their kiss almost as much as he’d enjoyed his very first fuck.

  God help him. He wanted her. What had he been thinking when he’d sent his team out of there? The last thing he needed was to get mixed up with a woman who’d confessed she harbored dangerous secrets.

  Then again, Adam had been practical most of his life. Wasn’t it time to kick up his heels and do whatever came naturally?

  “Tell me about the cards, please,” she hissed against his lips, her long legs closing against his thighs. “Show me.” Her voice turned hard. “Let me see the cards, Adam.”

  At first, he didn’t pay attention to her quiet requests. Instead, he bumped against her. His cock pressed against the denim covering him. Good God, he could explode!

  She sat erect in his lap, quickly moving her hands to his belt. “I’ll give you what you want, but you have to show me your hand.”

  She bit his bottom lip and sucked the fullness between her lips. Her fingers crawled up his chest. She wrapped her hand around his neck and kissed him harder. “Give me what I want, and I’ll make you a happy man.”

  God bless! Realizing very few people knew about the Most Wanted deck, he finally snapped out of his bewitched state and snapped his hands over her wrists.

  Glaring at her, Adam held Paige away from his body. Damn her for making him vulnerable. If the cards meant something to her, then there was a significant reason. Adam was all worked up and she possessed one goal—gaining information.

  Why the hell did she care about those cards? Why were they so important to her? And if they meant something to her, then what kind of danger had he put himself in? Was Paige Lambert a dangerous woman or a lethal target? He shuddered. Regardless of which, Paige could’ve used his own necktie to finish him off.

  She didn’t. He should’ve counted his blessings. He sure gave her plenty of opportunity.

  He stared into her mesmerizing eyes, trying to figure out what kind of lunatic would sit down on his lap and grind out a lap dance worthy of a hefty tip while probing for information. Lord, if Jeff Jacobsen ever had a female counterpart, this chick could’ve been his alter ego.

  “You need to move,” he finally said.

  “Adam, if I wanted you dead, you’d be cold already.”

  “If I wanted you fucked, you’d be penetrated and moaning.”

  She moved. He did, too.

  No second chances here. He didn’t trust himself. In all the years he’d been shuffling from place to place, from one job right on to the next, he’d always carried assurance in himself. He trusted his instincts. With Paige, a woman he’d just met, he couldn’t. She made him weak. Lesson learned.

  “A big tough guy like yourself, and you’re afraid of me.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
He watched her, studied her like a new language, and decided Paige wasn’t easily interpreted. There were too many dark corners to search for everything she seemed determined to hide.

  She arched a brow. The gesture made her appear smug, overly confident.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Paige.” That much was true. He wasn’t scared. He was terrified. He’d let her get too close, move too fast, and while he pushed her away, he still wanted more.

  “Yes, you are. You’re looking at me like you can’t wait to taste my lips again. So I dare you. Go ahead, Adam. Kiss me. Kiss me and then walk away. See if you can.”

  “Two can master this game you’re playing,” he remarked, jerking her against him. “Let’s see if you receive as well as you give.”

  He bit at her lips, tasting a riveting dose of uncertainty and loving its spellbinding flavor. Ah, yes, he’d find a way to work this woman if it was the last thing he’d ever do. Unfortunately, she was probably thinking the same thing about him, too.

  * * * *

  “Tell me about the broad,” Jeff said, climbing in the backseat of their SUV and back-handing Miles across the chest. “Hey, bro.” Jeff called everyone bro. His fellow operatives were his brothers and the only family he had.

  “She’s a hot one,” Miles replied, releasing a whistle. “Surprised you didn’t see the smoke signals. We’ve got us a bonfire raging out of control.”

  “Yeah?” Jeff asked, wrapping his arm around Miles’s neck and rubbing his head raw.

  “Haven’t seen anything like her in a long time,” Miles muttered.

  “So tell me, who’s tending to the fire now, huh? It ain’t you, is it, big boy?” Jeff tackled him again, and they enjoyed a friendly wrestling match.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Connor said, looking in his rearview mirror.

  “What’s eating at you?” Jeff asked, smacking Connor on the back of the head.

  “Right now?” Connor turned around in his seat. “You.”

  “Are you still whining because I earned the Hilton Head assignment?”

  Callan and Miles sounded out with a resonating, “Yes.”

  “Believe me, you didn’t miss much.”