by D. L. Roan
“Did he teach you how to fight, too?”
She nodded. “Yes. Well, he hired instructors for some of the more traditional martial arts like Kalari and Judo, but he’s the one who taught me how to fight dirty.”
Grant let out a long whistle. “Kalari, huh? That’s impressive.” Hell. He would have to remember to hide the brooms and mops. “So you can fight just as good with a stick as you can with a gun.” She laughed again, and the sound went straight to his heart and spread to his groin. With his hand under the table, he reached down and adjusted his jeans, cursing his lack of underwear as his zipper cut into his dick.
“No. If I’m going to use lethal force it’s easier to just shoot someone. Besides, I didn’t stay with it long enough to really master it. Choreographed routines were boring. Instead I took to the streets and honed my skills in the real world.”
“You ran away?” Grant didn’t have a difficult time picturing her as a rebellious teenager, but he couldn’t see her running from the only person she knew.
“No.” She shook her head, her mischievous smile relaxing into a sad sort of grin. “I was just…unfocused, and a bit…self-destructive. I got into a lot of fights in school. Issa eventually took me out and hired private tutors. I couldn’t fight at home, so I would sneak out at night or on the weekends and pick fights with the local kids. I uh…yeah.” She blew out a shaky breath, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I gave Issa a hard time for a while. I had some things I had to figure out how to deal with. Issa understood and eventually helped me find better ways to find the answers. He helped me deal with a lot of things.”
“He meant a lot to you.”
Grant watched as her thoughts turned inward. Unable to defend against the need to comfort her, he reached out and laid his hand, palm up, onto the bar. She hesitated, but eventually offered a sad smile and laced her fingers with his. “He was everything to me. When I woke up after the accident I was so confused.” She rested her other elbow on the edge of the bar and massaged her forehead. “You can’t imagine what it’s like waking up and you know your name, but you have no clue who you really are.”
No, he couldn’t imagine. He thought he was having an identity crisis. Fuck, she had been just a kid. “How long were you in the hospital?”
“I don’t know. I woke up in a bedroom in Issa’s house.” His jaw tensed as another anonymous piece of the puzzle was pulled into view. If his gut was right, and she wasn’t just a victim of some random car accident, they wouldn’t have wanted it reported. Not that the Indian authorities would have done much either way. They weren’t well known for prosecuting crimes against women.
“Do you speak Hindi?”
She shook her head. “I mean, I can get by now, but I didn’t then. Issa spoke English well enough.” She released his hand and reached for her glass, taking a long sip of water. “It’s strange. I speak English fluently, but I can’t remember learning it. I…sometimes…since Issa was killed I feel like I’m not really me, but I don’t know who I should be.” Grant was so focused on her expressions that he startled when she slammed the glass down onto the bar.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We’re running out of time. I need to make that call to Jauhar and set up a new drop.”
“You’re not making that call.” He watched as her eyes widened at first, then narrowed as that familiar fire swirled within the dark silver depths. He wasn’t surprised when she rocketed from her chair and braced her hands on the counter in front of her.
“What do you mean? I’ve told you everything!”
It took nearly every ounce of tested discipline to keep his lips from twitching into a grin. He didn’t know what it was, but seeing her like this made him want to reach out and claim the passion in her eyes; to claim her and fuck her with a ferocity that completely unhinged him. The veins in his dick instantly filled to capacity and he had to stand up to relieve some of the pressure.
“You heard me. You aren’t making that call.” He scooped up the plates and glasses before turning to the sink, more in an effort to hide his expressions than to tidy up. He knew it was shitty of him to push her buttons, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I don’t need your permission.”
Dishes clanged in the sink. Grant turned and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. “No, you don’t. But you need my phone.”
“This is bullshit!” Thalia turned and stomped toward the hallway.
“If you’re planning to leave then you’ll also need my helicopter. Or did you forget that we’re in the middle of Safari country?” When she froze in place with her back to him, he moved to where she stood and leaned his shoulder against the wall in front of her. “Where’s the thumb drive?”
“Fuck you,” she spat, her obvious outrage lacing her tone. Grant chuckled and pushed away from the wall.
“Been there, done that. Quite thoroughly, I believe.” She dodged his hand when he reached up to caress her face, setting off a few of his own fuses. He wouldn’t force her, but he wouldn’t allow her to outright deny him either. “Don’t push me away, fossa.”
He crowded behind her and slowly ran his fingertips along the backs of her thighs, lifting her skirt when he reached the full, tender globes of her ass. “Tell me.” He felt her shudder, but she didn’t pull away. The need to fill her nearly overwhelming, he watched over her shoulder as her chest heaved with each labored breath. Her arms folded beneath her breasts, pushing them up until they were nearly spilling out of the top of her little sundress. Drawn to them, his hands slid up and under the bodice of her dress, peeling her arms away as the soft, bare flesh of her breasts filled his hands with perfection. “Tell me,” he breathed into her ear, his tongue darting out to trace her delicate lobe.
Thalia couldn’t think. His hands were so hot against her skin. Her whole body ached for his touch, his mouth, his cock. She knew she had to stand her ground, but damn she couldn’t remember why. “I don’t…” A flash of erotic pain zinged through her pebbled nipples when he trapped and pinched them between his splayed fingers. The muscles in her neck collapsed and her head fell back against his shoulder. “I hate that you do this to me.”
Grant’s baritone hum vibrated against her over-sensitized skin, sending gooseflesh racing along her arms. “You have no idea how beautiful you are when you’re angry. It’s impossible to keep my hands off you when you’re like this.”
“Why can’t I just make the call?” Grant nudged her forward. Her hands shook as she reached out and braced herself against the wall. One of his hands slipped from her breasts, and she could feel it moving against her ass as he flipped open the button on his jeans.
“Because you have the upper hand right now.” The sound of his zipper made her pussy flutter with need as she remembered how well he filled her. How he controlled her completely as he was controlling her now. “You have what everyone wants, Thalia. No one knows where you are.” His hot breath rolled against her neck as he lifted her skirt and gripped her hip, grinding his cock between her bare cheeks. “Let them simmer a bit.”
Her breath seized in her chest as he positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. He was right there. So close. She could almost feel the erotic burn as her flesh stretched around the overwhelming fullness of his first thrust. “We’ll make them wait while we get into position.”
Oh God. Pushing her hips back, she clenched her teeth. No waiting. I can’t wait any longer. She hated begging, but couldn’t bite back the plea clawing its way past her lips. “Fuck me, Grant. Please.”
“We’ll push them where we want them.” His shouted grunt drowned out her own cry as he pushed up and slammed into her, his body hard against her back, his cock even harder inside her. “You maintain the element of control at all times, fossa.” Her nails dug into the wall, her arms no longer able to hold her up as he withdrew and slammed back in time and time again. “Never…give…up…control.”
She loved giving control to him th
is way. The weight of each thrust pinned her against the wall, each crushing slap of his hips pressing him deeper inside, and still it wasn’t enough. “Harder! Grant, please. I need more.”
Grant’s arms tightened around her waist and her feet left the floor. With a growl he set her down and bent her over the kitchen bar. “Ah,” she hissed when his fingers dug into her already bruised hips. His grip immediately loosened as his body tensed behind her.
“Please don’t stop.” God, if he stopped now she would die.
His hands traveled up her back, pulling her dress up and over her head as he slid his lips along her spine. “You completely kill me, fossa. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you.”
“I am going to kill you if you don’t move.” She squeezed her inner muscles around his hard shaft, wordlessly begging him to take her back to that place where she felt more right than she ever had in her life.
His hips snapped forward, his thighs slapping hard against her ass, his cock penetrating deeper. “Yes!” Her climax curled in her womb as his hands clamped over her shoulders. Each violent thrust reached deeper and deeper as he used his strength to pull her against him. The edge of the counter rubbed against her clit with just enough pressure, over and over until she was nearly out of her mind with need.
Sweaty skin slapped against sweaty skin. His harsh breaths, captured and expelled with panted grunts, made her feel alive with power as he lost control and pumped inside her with abandon. One of his hands released her shoulder, slapping with a loud crack onto the counter beside her head. She watched, enraptured as the thick tendons and muscles rippled beneath his skin, his fingers flexing for purchase with every thrust. Her feet left the floor as his pace quickened. She grabbed for the edge of the counter to hold herself against him. Aching heat flooded her pussy as the first waves of her climax rippled through her.
“I’m coming. Oh, God! Don’t stop.” Another brutal thrust, then another. “Ahh…yes…Grant!” Her entire body quaked beneath him. A harsh growl tore from his throat and he stilled deep inside her, his cock still throbbing as her inner muscles rippled around him. Heat rolled off his body in waves when he collapsed against her back, his forehead pressed to the back of her shoulder, panting for each breath.
Time ceased as they laid there still joined together, both unable and unwilling to sever the connection between them. This. This is what she wanted from him. She never imagined she could feel this alive. The power he possessed over her, over everything. It was like a drug. And like a greedy addict she wanted more. Grant peppered her skin with lazy kisses as their ragged breaths finally slowed. The skin on her back stuck to his chest when he peeled himself away and carefully pulled his spent cock from inside her. Gently, he lifted her legs and helped her further onto the counter before he pushed himself up to lay beside her, spooning her tight against his chest.
“What was that about not losing control?”
Grant chuckled as something along the lines of preaching to the choir ran through his mind. Yeah, he was in big trouble. His cock should be completely numb, but it was already rising against the heat of her ass as she snuggled against him.
This was more than just the best sex of his life. Even if he believed in forever, it was bigger than that. This was it for him. He had no clue where this was going or how long he had with her, but he knew he was living in the best moments of his life. He wasn’t bullshitting himself. People like him didn’t get a happily ever after, only glimpses of it; rare and small moments of goodness. He knew, at his end, this time with her would be the best of his moments.
“How sure are you? About no one knowing where I am?”
The sound of her voice pulled him from his weepy thoughts. “Hmm?”
She rolled over and playfully pinched his nipple. “Ouch!” Circling her wrist, he tugged her hand away and placed it on his cock. “If you want to squeeze something, squeeze this. Just be nice.” He nearly came unglued when her hand clamped around his cock with a firm grip and pumped. “Ah, fuck, you’re good at that, too. Christ woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“But what a way to go, right?” She giggled, giving his dick another teasing pump before she let him go, her fingers playing along the fine hairs on his lower abdomen. “Seriously. How sure are you?”
Grant relaxed against the cool counter top and gathered her against him. “No one but us and the person who owns the house knows we’re here. Why?”
“Because…” He tilted his head down to look at her when she didn’t continue. She glanced up at him through her lashes, her cheeks blooming with a telling shade of red. “Your, um, suggestion to wait. It makes sense.”
“Ha!” Grant laughed and turned on his side to face her. “I bet that left a pretty bitter aftertaste. Need some humble pie to wash it down?”
“Jerk! Why didn’t you just tell me you had a plan?”
Yeah, he had a plan. The start of one. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with her when it was time to put it into action. His fingers trailed along her thigh and over her hip. “Because you’re incredible when you get all worked up. I couldn’t resist.”
She pushed against his chest, nearly shoving him to the floor. He caught his balance and rolled on top of her, pinning her against the counter. Her giggles subsided as he lowered his head and captured her lips, taking another deep, long taste of her before he rolled back to her side and propped his head on his hand. “What’s your real name?”
“You already know my name.”
He grinned. He needed to know in case Diver couldn’t dig up anything under the name Thalia, but he’d let slide for now. There were more important questions he needed answered. “Fine, but I will get you to tell me sooner or later. Where’s the thumb drive?”
She laid her cheek against his chest, a satisfied sigh blowing across his skin. “Mozambique Island. There is an old church with a graveyard. It’s where Issa is buried. I hid it in a vase that is mounted to the tombstone next to his.”
“Tell me about the data on it.”
“Oh no.” Thalia sat up, her long hair falling over her shoulder in a mess of tangled waves, the small streak of blue peeking through the thicker strands of black. “I answered one of your questions, now you answer one of mine.”
“Ah.” Grant grinned. “Twenty questions time. Fine.” He leaned back and pillowed his arms behind his head. “Ask away.”
“What are you? What do you do?”
“Ah-ah. That’s two questions.” Dammit! She had to start with the one question he couldn’t fully answer. When she cocked her eyebrow he had the sudden urge to cover his dick. “Fine.” He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to give her the usual rehearsed answers. “Officially, I’m a contractor. Unofficially, I’m a semi-retired beach bum. That’s all I can tell you.”
“So you are an operative, like Salina said.”
Grant shot up onto his elbows. “She told you that?”
Thalia shrugged. “Not exactly. She thought I was your partner or something. I put the pieces together.”
Grant shook his head and collapsed back onto the counter. “She knew better than to talk at all.”
Thalia resettled against him and threaded her fingers through his. “So now that I know, you’ll have to kill me, huh? All that secret agent code stuff?”
Grant suddenly felt dirty lying next to her. It was a metaphorical sensation, but he could almost smell the grime of the world that had touched him. If she only knew how much evil had touched him she wouldn’t be so quick to joke. “Something like that,” he chuckled and released her hand. When she tensed a little against him, he tilted her chin up and stole a quiet kiss. “You’re safe with me, Thalia. No one will hurt you. I will make sure of that.”
“I believe you.” She nodded and he released her chin, rethreading his fingers with hers.
“Now. Tell me about what’s on the thumb drive and what makes you think Jauhar killed Issa.”
“Hey! That’s two questions.”
&nbs
p; “Tit for tat, fossa. Spill it.”
“But you didn’t actually answer…”
He trapped her arm against his chest and poked his fingers into her side, relishing the feel of her squirming in his arms as she giggled and laughed. Oh, yeah. His little fossa was ticklish. It was sort of an odd feeling. He’d never tickled anyone before. He stilled and let her calm, but kept her trapped against him. “Spill it or I’ll be forced to continue my torture to extract the information I seek.”
She laughed. “Torture by tickle. You’re such a badass, Mr. Kendal.”
He moved in on her again and she squealed, batting his hand away. “Okay! I’ll tell you everything!” He let her catch her breath and something inside him hummed when she relaxed against him. He hated that they had to sober such a playful mood with talk of dirt-bag bullshit, but he needed to keep her safe as much as he needed to hear her laugh.
“When Issa was killed…” He didn’t miss how difficult it was for her each time she had to talk about her uncle’s death. He didn’t push her as she swallowed back her sadness. He had never lost anyone close enough to care that much. His mom walked out long before he was old enough to remember her. His dad was nothing but an abusive drunk. A religious zealot and hypocrite who beat the hell out of him every chance he got until he was thrown into foster care at ten. He was shuffled through a dozen foster homes for three years before he finally quit going home and just stayed on the streets. His adult life had shown him a few people worth his respect, but no one he would cry for when they were gone. When she wiped away a tear he wondered if he would cry for her when their time was over.
He waited quietly, unsure of how to comfort her. After a long pause she cleared her throat, her cheeks turning as red as her eyes. “Sorry. I usually don’t let things get that messy.”