by Leslie North
“I took you under my wing, showed you around my business, and shared parts of my life with you. I thought I could trust you,” he managed to say past his constricted vocal cords.
“You can trust me, Mark.” Geneva walked to his side, though she didn’t touch him. “That article was not my doing. If I’d known he was going to write something like that, I would have insisted on being a part of it so the truth would come out; particularly once I got to know your family, your friends, and the kind of business you run.”
Mark scrubbed a hand over his face then glanced over at her, his anger replaced now by resignation. “I might have overreacted a tad.” He gave her a small half-smile. “I’ve been told I do that sometimes.”
“No!” she said, placing a hand over her heart in mock horror.
“Yeah.” He faced her now and reached out to run his fingers down her soft cheek. “Sorry.”
“Me too.” She caught his hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing each of his knuckles before sucking the tip of his index finger into her mouth. She watched him through narrowed eyes, licking his skin before releasing the digit with an audible pop. Her cheeks were flushed and her gaze sparkled with arousal. If Mark didn’t know better, he’d think she was as turned on as he was. “Want to make it up to me?”
Seems he wasn’t the only one whose fury had quickly transformed into sexual fire.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He picked her up fast, ignoring her startled squeak of laughter, and then plunked her down on the edge of his desk. Several emotions flitted through her eyes at once—anger, challenge, passion, need. He kissed her hard and she dug her fingers into his scalp, scratching her nails hard against his skin, giving as good as she got. By the time he pulled back, they were both panting.
“I want you so damned bad, manamea.” Mark tugged Geneva’s shirt off over her head, then undid the front clasp on her bra before cupping her breasts in his hands. “This. This is what I want. I want to be inside you.”
Mark kissed a path across her cheek to her earlobe, pausing to nibble on it before continuing down her neck to her collarbone. Geneva clung to him, gripping his shoulders tight as she arched hard against him. He tugged her closer, pushing up her short skirt and spreading her thighs so her panty-covered wetness pressed against his hard, aching cock through his jeans.
“I…want…,” she said, her voice all breathy with need.
“What?” He bent and took one of her hard nipples into the warm wetness of his mouth before nuzzling the valley between her breasts. “Tell me what you want.”
Geneva ground herself against him. “You. I want you.”
Mark glanced over at the door, realized it was still unlocked, but damn if he could stop now. Besides, the prospect of someone walking in on them only added to the illicit excitement of their liaison. It was late, anyway. Classes had ended hours ago and Jace and Vann had headed home to their places in town. Now, only he and Geneva remained.
“Fuck yes, manamea.” He shoved her skirt up to her waist and quickly tugged her panties down her legs then tossed them across the room before stroking his hands up her thighs and gently caressing her. Christ, she was so wet for him already.
As his thumb circled her hard clit, Geneva cried out. “Please, Mark…”
“Please what?”
“Please, fuck me.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. Mark unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pulled a condom from his back pocket, then slicked it on before positioning himself at her wet entrance. He’d never taken a woman here in his office, but given the hotness of the situation and Geneva, it wouldn’t be their last rendezvous here.
“Hold on tight,” he said, before driving himself into her hilt deep. She groaned loud, locking her legs around his waist, her arms tight around his neck as he thrust into her over and over again, the rubber soles of her boots digging into the skin of his lower back with each thrust. Last night had been about a slow exploration of something new between them. Tonight was all about sex—hot, wet, rough, mind-blowing sex. Given the intensity of their passion, it didn’t take long for Mark to feel that familiar tightening deep in his sac that signaled an impending climax.
“Are you close?” he growled, taking Geneva’s earlobe between his teeth.
“Yes,” she hissed, nuzzling the pulse point at the base of his neck. “So close.”
“Good.” Mark reached between them and stroked her clit, causing Geneva to clench her limbs around him tight. “Let go for me, manamea. Let go.”
“Yes!” Her inner walls convulsed around his cock as she came hard. “Oh God, yes!”
He drove into her, his pace harder, faster, deeper now until his body stiffened and he climaxed within her. Throwing his head back, he shouted out her name as his orgasm shook him to his core.
Moments later, they clung to each other both panting and sweaty. He eased her back onto the edge of his desk and helped her straighten her clothes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, not looking at him. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” Mark got his jeans buttoned and zipped then grabbed her panties from the floor. “Um, here.”
“Thanks.” Geneva snatched them from his hand then went behind his desk while he turned the other way to give her a bit of privacy. “Listen, about the article…” she said.
“I just wish I didn’t have to find out about it on the Internet. If we’re going to keep doing…” he gestured between them, “…this, then we need to be honest with each other on what we’re working on. No more lies. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” She came back to where he was standing, smoothing a hand down the front of her skirt. Her cheeks were still flushed with passion and her eyes had gone all dreamy and sated and it took all of Mark’s willpower not to strip her down again and make love to her once more on the sofa against the far wall.
He eyed her and did his best not to let his old doubts take root in the present. “So you promise me you’ll be honest with me from now on. About everything. Okay? That’s all I ask. Just be honest.”
“Okay.” She grabbed her bag, rummaging through it as she said, “Here’s me being honest. We can continue to have sex, but that’s it. I can’t let a relationship with you interfere with my purpose in being here.”
“Which is Jaime.”
“Yes.” She looked over at him. “Always Jaime.”
The words sucker punched him more than he expected. Mark wasn’t dumb enough to think this was some sweeping love affair or anything more than two lonely souls looking for a bit of comfort. Still, his chest ached with unaccountable envy and he wondered what it would be like for her to feel the same loyalty for him that she felt for her deceased sibling. “Tell me about your brother.”
She paused, glancing at him. “What do you want to know?”
“What kind of guy was he? Tell me the stuff I can’t find on the Internet. Tell me about the real Jaime.”
Geneva blinked several times, her expression going sad and wistful. “Jaime was the best brother ever. He was my best friend, my champion, my biggest supporter. He was always there for me when I needed a hug, a beer, or just an ear to listen.” She leaned against the desk beside him. “All that changed though, after he came back from combat. Jaime was withdrawn, scared, wouldn’t talk to anyone about what was happening with him. I tried to get him help, tried to work with the VA, but they just slammed the door in our faces. The day he died, a part of me died too.”
Mark reached over and took her hand. “That’s why you fight so hard for him.”
“For him and all those out there who are suffering like he did.” She sniffled and swiped the back of her free hands against her damp cheeks. “If I can save even one life by telling his story and uncovering the truth, then I have to do it. Can you understand that?”
He nodded, bringing their joined hands to his lips and kissing the back of hers, he noticed a few scratches and bruises on it and frowned. “What happened here?”
“Oh.” She sniffed. “I s
topped by that Sutton rally in town earlier. The crowds got a little out of hand and I dropped my recorder. When I went to pick it up, someone accidentally stepped on my hand.”
Given his suspicions about who might’ve tampered with his vehicle, Mark doubted the injury was accidental, but he kept that to himself for now. This peace between them was nice, and most likely short-lived, given their penchant for disagreeing with each other. He wanted to enjoy the peace part for as long as he could.
Geneva remained silent for several moments before cocking her head toward the door. “Now are you going to feed me or what? I’m starving.”
Mark gave her an incredulous look. “Seriously?”
Her stomach growled loud, as if in response.
“All right then.” He let her go and grabbed his keys off the desk. “Food it is.”
13
The next day, Mark was out in the training field on the Brothers In Arms compound, helping Jace and Vann double-check all of the obstacles they’d set up over the weekend for the new three-week-long classes starting that night. It was a new group of businessmen from one of his recently signed clients who’d requested not only security training, but a bit of Warrior Dash thrown in for fun.
They’d all been through similar courses during SEAL training, so putting it together had been a snap, especially with Jace’s mechanical engineering abilities. As Mark climbed up the side of the framework for a barn-like obstacle called the Diesel Dome, he spotted Jace and Vann across the way inspecting what would become the mudslide once they added water to it. The point of the whole course was to test both the challengers’ physical endurance and their fortitude. Given Mark was currently scaling a fifty-foot-high structure comprised of nothing but wood and air, they’d accomplished their goal.
He finished climbing to the top of the dome then stood to gaze out over the whole Brothers In Arms property. The view from up here was spectacular and with the slight breeze, he got a hint of the salty sea air drifting in from the Pacific in the distance. Maybe, once he was done here, he’d have time to hit the waves again. With business booming and everything going on with Geneva, his surf time had been curtailed drastically over the past week and he missed it. Missed the time alone with just the ocean and his thoughts.
“You planning on taking a vacation up there or what?” Vann yelled to him. Apparently, he and Jace had finished up with the mudslide and were moving on to the Fisherman’s Catch next—a series of nets strung across a ravine filled with muck and dirt. Challengers had to work their way across using skill and coordination or end up taking a bath in Lord knew what. Vann crossed his arms and raised a black brow at Mark. “We could use your help down here.”
“Fine.” Mark took one last deep breath of fresh air then stepped over onto the next board about three feet away. An ominous creak sounded from somewhere below, but he didn’t hesitate. After all, Jace had put this stuff together with Vann’s expert help, which meant it was nearly indestructible. “I’m coming. You guys need help with the class tonight?”
“Nah,” Jace shouted from below. “It’s only six students and—Oh, fuck! Mark, man, look out!”
Mark jumped to the next board and—an earsplitting crack filled his ears, the kind you’d expect from a huge oak branch sheering from its trunk.
Two realizations hit him at once.
First, he was fucked.
Second, there was nothing he could do to save himself.
“Oh shit!” The world tilted and he was in freefall. The last thing he remembered was the blue sky above and the brisk rush of wind on his face. Then a hard thud against his back. Pain shoved the breath from his lungs. Something knocked him hard on the head. A weird moaning echoed from somewhere and it took Mark a moment to realize the sound came from him. Blood pounded in his ears and his vision darkened at the periphery.
Fallen…I must’ve fallen…
Dazed and confused, Mark squinted up at a remaining patch of blue sky above as a cloud drifted over the sun. Shadows descended and the shouts of his buddies rang out around him. He tried to move his arms, his legs, tried to call out and answer them, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Trapped. He was trapped beneath what felt like six tons of shit. Agony radiated out from his temples as more wood rained down from above.
“Dude!” Jace shouted. “Mark, can you hear me?”
“Stay with us buddy,” Vann called. “Help’s on the way!”
Time lost all meaning as he lay there, every bone in his body aching. Eventually, another sinister creak sounded, followed by the distant wail of sirens then blackness as the rest of the Diesel Dome collapsed atop him. Unable to move, unable to breath, unable to do anything but lay there and stare up at the graying sky, Mark said a last silent prayer. For his sister, for his mom, for himself. This was it. He’d always imagined he’d die in combat or, if he was lucky, old age. Not like this. Never like this.
The sirens outside whined closer while Vann and Jace’s panicked shouts grew more distant, until all became silent and still….
14
“Where is he?” Geneva asked as she burst into the waiting room at Ortega General Hospital. She spotted Jace and Vann sitting against the far wall of the emergency room waiting area and rushed over to them. “Is Mark okay?”
Vann gave her a cool stare, his voice flat. “He’s having a CT Scan of his head now.”
“Is he conscious?”
“Yeah, he’s awake,” Jace said. “Got knocked out though when he fell. He’s pretty banged up and bruised too. Luckily, they don’t think there’s anything too seriously wrong though, as long as there’s no traumatic brain injury.”
Traumatic brain injury…
She sank down into a chair across from them and swallowed hard. When the call had come in across her police scanner about an accident with injuries at the Brothers In Arms compound, Geneva had feared the worst. Now, as the adrenaline in her system dissipated, she felt shaky and scared, her need to see Mark and assure herself he was okay all but obliterating any common sense she had left. “What happened?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Vann gave her another assessing look. “We built each of those obstacles ourselves, had them professionally inspected by local licensed contractors before any of us attempted to use them. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“No, it shouldn’t.” Jace raked a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “I can’t help feeling it’s my fault, man. Jesus, first Mark’s brakes getting messed with and now this. I know what this looks like, but I swear it wasn’t me. The guy’s like my brother, man. I’d never do anything to hurt him. Never.”
“No one thinks it’s you.” Vann clapped Jace on the shoulder then glanced at Geneva again, his expression shifting from concerned to hard in seconds. “Could have been someone else though. Someone with maybe an ax to grind against our business or the military.”
Geneva frowned, her defenses rising fast against the accusation in his tone. “Me? I would never hurt Mark. Never. We’re…” She managed to stop herself before blurting out that she and Mark were sleeping together, but just barely. Flustered and frazzled, Geneva pushed to her feet again to pace the length of the waiting room. “Look, I know you guys are leery of me because I’m a reporter, but you have to believe me when I say I would never hurt Mark. He and I are… working together on something.” Vann gave her a flat look, his dark gaze far too knowing for her comfort. Still, what she and Mark were doing behind closed doors was no one’s business. She shook her head and tried to focus on their current situation, using her well-honed reporter skills to piece the facts together. First Mark’s car had been tampered with. Now the obstacle course. “You think it was sabotaged?”
“I don’t think, I know,” Vann said, his words granite tough. “The cops must suspect something too. They sent a team of forensic investigators to the site after the EMS got Mark from the rubble. I’ll be assisting them once I leave here.” Vann looked away. “Did some preliminary poking around too, before law
enforcement arrived. Found some suspicious marks on some of the beams, like they’d been deliberately cut. And some footprints leading to and from the dome. Didn’t match any of ours.”
“Mark told me you’re the best tracker he’s ever met,” Geneva said, staring down at her hands clenched tight in her lap. She replayed the night of the fundraiser, all those angry people. The Sutton rally downtown. His supporters seemed hell-bent on snagging the guy a congressional seat. The sneering disdain of the Rigsdales as they’d looked down their noses at her. Sutton’s supporters seemed like a bunch of entitled, racist pigs, but would their hatred translate into murder? She shuddered. Wouldn’t be the first time one person’s beliefs, however twisted, resulted in violence and death for another person. “Do the police have any suspects?”
“Not yet.” Jace sighed and stared down at the floor. “They’re questioning our recent clients now.” He sat back and rubbed his eyes. “Man, I just want Mark to be okay.”
“We all do,” Vann said, taking his seat again.
Shoulders slumped; Geneva joined them and picked up a well-worn copy of People magazine from a nearby table. The thing was four months old, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t reading it anyway. All she saw when she looked at the pages was Mark’s face that first day in the parking lot of Scoops, handsome as hell and full of snarky suspicion. Then later, when they’d driven up to the Rigsdale mansion. The feel of his warm, strong fingers entwined with hers. The way he’d guided her through those hostile crowds, so strong, so sure, so protective.
Warm pressure squeezed tight around her heart and Geneva frowned. When she’d made the choice to get involved with Mark beyond the professional, she’d promised herself it would stay totally physical, that she’d keep her emotions out of it. But now, it seemed, her emotions were riding roughshod over her vows to her brother. Somehow, someway, Mark had stormed right through her staunch barriers and found his way into her heart…
Then she’d had to go and mess it all up by repeating her stupid statement last night about it being only sex, about how she didn’t want anything from him but his body. God, no wonder she was twenty-five and still single.