by Cindy Skaggs
Her eyes snapped open, met his on a dare. “Who asked you to?”
She knew exactly what to say to test his limited control. He slid his hand under her waistband and rubbed between her thighs. Wet. For him.
“Mine,” he muttered against her lips. For a moment, time stopped. Her features froze in a mask. Victoria didn’t want to belong to a man. She’d told him more than once, but his brain didn’t work right around her. He’d never desired a woman this way. Hadn’t felt this way for her when they were young, but he knew it now without a doubt. She was his. “Mine.”
Her reaction, delayed, was to bite his lip as she rubbed herself against his hand. “Then take it,” she taunted.
“Fuck.” He couldn’t go slow. Didn’t want easy. He flipped her around until she was facing the wall, braced, hands overhead. They wouldn’t make it inside. Not this time. “Keep those hands right there.”
She separated her hands until they were shoulder-width apart, as if she couldn’t help fighting the order. Then she arched her back and rubbed her sweet ass against his groin.
Rebellion and submission all in one. He couldn’t hold back. He unzipped his pants, rolled on a condom, lifted her skirt, and shoved down her panties. He kicked her ankles farther apart before he entered her hot, tight channel.
His head rolled back. The pleasure was excruciating. She arched back as he thrust forward. Deep. He closed his eyes and fought the orgasm barreling down his spine. He could lose himself in her and never find a way out. He leaned forward to kiss his way up the back of her neck to the tender spot behind her ear. When he hit it, nipped the nerves, she went wet and silky around him. He pulled back, slow as a Southern Sunday, before sliding back in, deeper this time.
“Blake.” She tilted her head to give him better access to her soft skin.
He ran his tongue around the shell of her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth.
She rocked against him. “Faster,” she begged.
“Patience,” he growled in her ear.
“Overrated.” She bore down on him, squeezing, and the flutter against his erection tightened his balls and sent him past the point of no return. His control snapped. He brought both hands to her hips and set a punishing pace.
She laughed, the sound spurring him faster, harder. The hallway filled with the sound of flesh slapping flesh, panting, and moaning. He wouldn’t last. He arched over her, reached around to finger her clit, matching the grinding pace of his hips.
Incoherent words tumbled from her lips, rising in volume as he increased the pace, slamming into her until she screamed, held her breath, and then her orgasm was milking him, drawing him into her. Tucked around her, he let himself go. They fell off the cliff together, moving and breathing in tandem.
“Good God.” She fell forward against the wall. “I didn’t think it could get any better.” Head braced against the wall, she let her hands slide lower.
“Yeah?”
“Gets any better, you might kill me.”
The possessive Neanderthal inside him beat his chest in triumph.
Victoria glanced over her shoulder, her face flushed from sex and her eyes half closed. Satisfaction looked good on her. “Kiss me.”
Still trapped in her heat, his cock flexed one last time at the need in her voice. He bent, took her lips in a kiss. Gentle where before he’d been rushed, angry, and full of adrenaline. He took time to treasure her. Pleasure her with soft kisses and unspoken promises.
She was his. To kiss. To pleasure. To protect with his last breath.
Chapter Fourteen
Vicki fell into the room like a zombie. So this was what a sex coma felt like? She could use a hit of that action every day, because her muscles were loose and her brain fuzzy, but it wasn’t just the sex. Her heart still pounded, rolling, squeezing with emotions that up-against-the-wall sex could not purge. She fought the feelings, residue from sex, that’s all, because she would never be stupid enough to fall for a man. Her life was not conducive to relationships. Fun and games, yes. Love and forever? Not so much.
Forever?
Crazy. Her brain had gone haywire. Did she want forever with Blake? Surely not, yet they’d fallen into a couple-ish routine. Every night while she readied for bed, he secured the apartment. She watched him this time. He twisted the inside dead bolt, turned down the lights, and then headed for the television in the living room. They hadn’t watched TV the entire time she’d been there, not even the news, so she watched with interest as he turned it on and pressed play on the DVD player. Moments later, the sounds of a woman moaning drew her closer. The naked action on the screen was enough to make a grown man blush. She whipped her gaze around.
Porn. He watched porn? Blake put a finger to his lip as if to tell her to keep quiet, which worked because she was speechless. He moved to her, drew her into the bedroom. “I believe in giving the electronic surveillance exactly what they expect to hear.”
Dang. She’d completely forgotten about the bugs. How many times had they made love in this bed?
Whoa. Made love?
Another random thought. Sex in the hall must have frosted her brain cells. Had they been making love? When had she started thinking of it as more than sex? She shook the idea out of her head, and instead focused on the idea that someone had been listening to everything that went on in the apartment. Every moan, every scream, every word.
The thought of someone listening to their intimate moments snapped her out of the happy place she’d been with Blake.
“Hold that thought,” he whispered into her ear. He pulled a bug detector from the jacket hanging on the office chair and started a slow, methodical sweep of the bedroom. The sounds of the couple getting it on filtered in from the adjacent room. He watched porn and carried his own countersurveillance equipment. Yeah, he’d changed from the boy she’d once known. Did that bother her?
No, she decided. At the time, he’d been young and innocent in ways she’d never been. Despite the fact that both his mother and older brother were drug addicts, he’d gone to college and broken the cycle. He’d been like a shiny new penny when she met him, and she’d gobbled him up. But she’d left him for the very same reason. Nothing stayed shiny and new in her life, and he deserved the opportunity to live a happy life. One that stayed on the straight and narrow. He was so beautiful at the time. Long, wavy brown hair, ethereal eyes that shone like neon, and a soul so sweet it offered the perfect place to hide from reality.
When Sofia had announced her engagement to Nick, Vicki had gone berserk. She’d dismantled every friendship, every relationship, and every connection outside her sick little world, because she wouldn’t be responsible for another innocent soul getting sucked into the Calvetti family vortex.
He wasn’t an innocent anymore. He looked much the same, but he was broader, more muscular, and scarred where he’d once been pure. He was sexier now, which was probably some default in her psyche, because he looked more like a bad boy than he’d ever been, and she was drawn to him against every logical thought in her head. He was a cop, which was more dangerous than a mob boss and riskier than innocence, but he would protect her. She had no doubt he stood between her and utter destruction.
He was an archaic SOB, just like her grandfather. He called her mine, the possession obvious in every word he spoke and every move he made. Rage made her want to fight his possession, because she came from a world where women were treated like cattle, but Blake didn’t possess through force or intimidation. He asserted himself without demeaning. To a man like Blake, saying mine wasn’t a form of ownership in the way it was to her grandfather’s generation. Mine meant she was his to protect and defend against the big bad world. And the outside world was bigger and badder than even she anticipated. She didn’t mind belonging to him, because he belonged to her just as much.
Belonging? Her heart squeezed. She wasn’t just falling for him. She was all the way in love with him. She rubbed a hand over her chest. Love was not part of the plan.
Vicki removed
her jewelry and set it on the nightstand. Her hands shook. Love was a sucker punch after the bell, unexpected, immoral, and against the rules. She was utterly screwed.
Blake bent over the bed as he swept behind the headboard. Her gaze followed his movements. His backside was nearly as impressive as his muscled chest. Tight, round, just the right size to grab on to.
“You checking out my ass?”
“If you’re going to flaunt it, baby—” She tried to keep her tone light to disguise the troubling thoughts winging through her brain.
The device pinged, indicating a bug behind the bedside table. He pulled it out, but rather than destroy it, he moved it to the other room where anyone listening would hear the couple going at it on the television. When he came back, he put the detector in his jacket pocket and drew her closer to the bed. He turned on the bedside radio as an added precaution against listening devices.
The sounds of sex still emanated from the porn in the other room, and she had all these feelings knocking around in her head, her heart, which until this moment she hadn’t thought existed. She wanted to work it out in bed—hot, sweaty, mind-numbing sex—because sex made more sense than talking about feelings. She ran a finger up his arm as he led her to the bed. His skin, soft and tempting to touch, warmed the silk of his shirt. “Now, where were we?”
He pulled her closer, and she nearly purred to press against all his muscle. “One more thing.”
She thunked her forehead against his chest.
“Come here.” He drew her close and held her for long moments, the sounds of the radio and the television in the other room fading like white noise. He rubbed a hand up her spine and it felt so good, she let go of the stress and snuggled in his arms.
“Scared the hell out of me today,” he said softly.
“I can’t stay in lockdown. I have—”
“Stop. For just one minute, be still.” His hands shook as he caressed her back, ran his fingers through her hair, as if confirming she was safe. The contrast from his frenetic seduction in the hall confused her. Crazy, gut-level need she understood. This gentleness worried her. Theirs was not a gentle relationship. Was it a relationship?
“Blake?” She leaned away from his embrace. “Talk to me.”
The expression on his face was fierce. The laser focus of his gaze stripped her of all artifice, boring into her very soul. When he spoke, his voice was hard and low. “I think your problems and my case are related. I think that’s why Manny sent you to my club. Whatever you forgot? It’s the key.”
“Okay.” Her heart pounded. What information was so important? It didn’t make any sense, but there was no doubt she had used hypnosis to lock information inside her head. Information she’d never wanted to uncover. Why? If information was her religion, if the need to know was so ingrained it was instinctual, what could possibly induce her block it? If whatever she didn’t know were really a threat to Sofia and Eli, wouldn’t she want to stay in the loop? “What’s your case?”
“It’s classified.”
“Nope. Too late. We work together or I walk.”
He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he seemed resigned. He sat on the bed and drew her down with him. “Patrick Sullivan has controlled most of the drugs moving through the state for a long time. He was a midlevel dealer when my brother started using.”
Both Blake’s brother and mother had gotten sucked into drugs when Blake was in high school. Meth, if she remembered correctly. They’d gotten killed. She had never been clear how, but she knew he blamed the drugs. “You’ve been chasing this man for a long time.”
He confirmed it with a tight nod. “Sully took a hit out on my brother.”
“Why?”
“Craig got busted and made a deal.”
“Sully found out,” she guessed.
“I don’t have proof, but that’s the likely scenario.”
Vicki finally understood his choices. He’d been chasing drugs off the streets for years. This undercover operation meant he could finally punish the man who killed his family. “I’m sorry about your brother.” Her family wasn’t directly responsible, at least as far as she knew, but they’d been behind enough drug deals that their hands weren’t clean. Someone like Blake was mourning a brother or a child lost to drugs the Calvetti family had put onto the streets.
“I could care less,” he said.
She sat farther back, but his gaze was unreadable. “Then why?”
“Mick’s brother Tommy got caught in the cross fire. He was just a kid.”
She rubbed a hand over his hard jaw. “Not your fault.”
He shrugged, but his expression said he definitely blamed himself. “I met with Sully this morning.”
“And?”
“I wanted to kill him so bad I shook. It was all I could do to keep myself still while I ate breakfast with the evil bastard.”
“Of course you didn’t kill him.” Vicki doubted her own thoughts and actions, but she knew with absolute certainty that he wasn’t the kind of man to kill in cold blood. “You want him punished, not dead.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“I am. You’ll wait. Take down the whole organization. Make sure they’re not pouring drugs onto the street.”
Blake lowered his lips to hers. It was the desperate kiss of a drowning man. Finally, he pulled away, tugging her lower lip. “He mentioned you at the meeting.”
“That sounds…” She examined his inscrutable expression. “Ominous.”
“It is. Promise me right now that you’ll do as I say.”
She laughed, but the sound came out like a snort. She tried to pull away. “Sweetheart, I don’t follow orders.”
He grabbed her biceps and locked her into place. “This isn’t a game, Victoria. I’ll arrest you or put your ass in witness protection if you won’t promise. I won’t risk you.”
Her heart pounded. He sounded…desperate to keep her protected. Something her own brother hadn’t cared about, except as it pertained to maintaining power. “I need to know why. I won’t mindlessly follow orders. Prove I’m in danger.”
“The damn cat wasn’t enough for you?”
She shoved against him, but he wouldn’t release her. Anger and fear flowed freely in her veins, both of which hit her tear ducts. He was legitimately worried about her safety, and that terrified her. “Blake.” She hated the tremble in her voice. “I know what I’m asking, but I don’t operate on need to know. You want my compliance. My word. Give me everything you know.”
He pulled her close as if he needed the connection. She allowed herself to snuggle into his chest, comforting them both. He sighed and then started talking. “We knew your brother was working to join forces with Sully. The most logical reason is the breakdown of the organization in New York. Sam Capadonna put a world of hurt on your brother’s flow of income. He needed to shore up his business, and Sofia and Eli’s presence in Colorado became his excuse to expand operations here.”
“Makes sense for Nick, but why would Sully let an outsider into his territory?”
“Nick had something Sully wanted.”
“What?”
“We don’t know, but Sully is under the impression you do.”
“Me? I didn’t even know Nick was expanding.”
“Or you chose to forget.”
“Why?” The more she learned, the less she understood her motivations.
“There’s more.” He rubbed her arms. “Sully moved out here from New York. Gradually worked himself into a position of power.”
A shiver raced up her spine. This was not the sexy, rough Blake. He kept his tone lower than the sounds surrounding them. He was controlled. Passionless. “After I left the meeting, I contacted people who’ve been in the bureau that long. I confirmed the information with Eddie. Sully is the man your mother was engaged to before Calvetti.”
Vicki swallowed. Her mother had never mentioned Patrick Sullivan. “Coincidence?”
“You believe in c
oincidence?”
“No.” Shit.
“The time frame Sully moved out here coincides with your parents’ wedding.”
Shock stiffened her spine. “You don’t think my mother was pregnant when she married my father? That Nick was Sully’s biological son?”
“No. Nick was the spitting image of your father. Neither of you resembles Sully, but whatever Nick had to offer, Sully thinks you’re the key. That paints a target the size of Texas on your chest.”
“If Sully wants me, we should arrange a meeting.”
“We are not hanging you out to dry. The odds are against surviving a meeting with him.”
“Are you sure you’re not overreacting?”
“Dead sure, darlin’.”
Her brain hurt with information overload. “We need to find Manny.”
“I put out feelers today, on both sides of law enforcement. We’ll find him, and until we do, your happy ass stays in this apartment.”
“Unreasonable,” she replied. “I can’t hide here indefinitely. I need to get back to work.”
“Your house is too vulnerable. If you can meet with clients somewhere nearby, I’ll rearrange my schedule.”
“Is that your final offer?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
He smiled grimly. “It’s the best you’re getting, darlin’. Sully has serious power and no soul. I’m not trading your life for this case. You don’t leave this apartment without Mick, Eddie, or me at your side. And hold on to this.” He reached into the nightstand and pulled out a knife, the knife that had killed her cat.
“Is this a weapon or a reminder?”
“Both. Remember what happened to your cat.”
“So it doesn’t happen to me.” She gripped the knife in her fist. No matter what he said, it was a weapon. One she had no problem wielding.
…
Blake lay awake long after Victoria’s breathing slowed in the soft pattern of sleep. Her head rested on his right shoulder. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he curled her close. If he could shield her permanently, he would. The more he considered, the more he knew Victoria was in deadly danger. Days had passed since the meeting with Sully, and tensions were running high. Members of the task force were scrambling to discover what Sully wanted from the Calvettis. They had Sully under surveillance, but so far, nothing. He had yet to contact Blake, which made him desperate to keep Victoria under wraps.