by Rachel Grant
“Yes, I am. A damn good one too. But not this time.”
“Then why are you here?”
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “I like watching you sleep.”
The statement was so bald. So open. She had to believe it. “You’re here to watch me sleep? That’s a little creepy.” Not really, though. Not after what they’d been through.
“When you’re asleep, you aren’t glaring at me. You aren’t sad. You aren’t angry. You’re just beautiful. When you’re sleeping, I’m not fucking up and pissing you off.”
She didn’t like the fluttery feeling his words triggered in her belly. Giving in would give him the power to hurt her. “Except for the creepy part about watching me sleep.”
His smile lit his eyes. Damn, he was one gorgeous man. He must have shaved in the lavatory while she prowled in the bedroom and tried to sleep, because his beard was gone. She’d liked the rugged beard that scratched against her skin, but now that it was gone, her fingers itched to stroke his smooth cheeks. A fire lit low in her belly as she imagined the soft slide of his bare face against her skin.
He was once again the intensely handsome man she’d glimpsed in a crowded airport terminal, and all the possibilities of that moment, when they’d been complete strangers, came flooding back to her.
Oh damn. Resisting him—if he’d entered the cabin with thoughts of seducing her—would be difficult. Saying no to him now would hurt nearly as much as saying yes, then having him disappear from her life.
He took a step closer, and she held up a hand. “Stop. What are you doing here, Ian?”
“What did you mean when you took down Zack and you said you’d promised yourself you’d never do that again?”
Oh shit. He really knew how to zero in on the weak links in her armor. She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “Will it ease your conscience if you hold me and listen to my sob story? Is that what’s in it for you? A chance to rack up bonus points so you can later tell yourself you treated me kindly even as you rejected me? Because I have no interest in sharing my darkest memories with someone who has every intention of walking away from me at the first opportunity.”
He took another step toward her. “No. That’s not what I want. I want the name of every man who has ever hurt you, so I can hunt each one down and make him pay.”
The fluttery feeling in her belly imploded at that, and her breath hitched as she tried to get her traitorous body, that damn traitorous heart, under control.
All she’d ever wanted was for someone to treat her as if she mattered. To have her back. To look at her as Ian did right now, as if he truly, deeply cared about her.
“I will not accept just a week, Ian. I deserve better than that.” And she meant it. No more devaluing herself when it came to relationships.
He sat on the bed next to her and reached for her hand. “I know that. And I know you deserve way better than me.”
She wanted to interrupt him, to tell him he shouldn’t devalue himself either. But she had a feeling he was about to say something far more important and didn’t dare derail him. As it was, her heart pounded so hard, it threatened to drown out his words.
“I’ve never been in a position to offer more than a fling, and I’ve never met anyone I wanted for more than that even if I could. My life was the Army, and then the CIA. Sure, other men had families. Lives. Wives. But I’ve never really had anyone except the best friend whose grandmother taught me Turkish when I was a boy. He died in a training accident when we were nineteen. He never even made it out of boot camp. It was a dumb, horrible waste.”
She gasped, recognizing he covered a world of pain in those blunt words. “Were you there? Was he in your unit?”
“No. I was already in Afghanistan. He joined a year after me. Between losing my best friend and then losing members of my team in combat, I stopped…caring isn’t the right word… I’m still human. I care. But I did what I could to cut myself off from caring too much. I would lay down my life for any of the guys on my Delta Force team—they remain my closest friends to this day—but do you want to know how long it’s been since I’ve even emailed any of them?”
She nodded.
“Two…maybe three years.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I threw myself into my life as a covert operative. I stopped being a friend or making real friends. You pretty much nailed it when you asked if spies could have friends. I’m sure some do. But I’m not one of them.”
He threaded his fingers through hers, staring at their entwined hands, not meeting her gaze. “I’m not a spy anymore. I haven’t quite come to grips with that yet. Even when I was in the Army, I was running covert ops for Delta.” He shook his head. “But I’m out. I’m leaving the game. Staying in would cost too much. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me when we land. I could be arrested and disappear into a secret CIA prison, or I may find myself exonerated, but with no job. No prospects. No home. No friends.”
She pulled his hand to her chest, placing it over her heart. “Is that what you want from me? Friendship? Because you already have that.”
He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, slowly. Tentatively. Nothing like the cocksure man who’d kissed her so many times in the last week.
She opened her mouth to deepen the kiss when it became clear he wouldn’t. She guessed he wouldn’t push her, not now.
She caressed those smooth cheeks with both hands as she slid her tongue against his in a sweet, prolonged kiss that was neither a hello nor a good-bye, and somehow entirely different from all the kisses that had come before.
She pulled back, still cradling his face, and met his intense gaze.
He cleared his throat. “I want you as more than a friend, Cressida. I want to be your lover, your partner, your champion. Because when I think about saying good-bye to you, it hurts already, even when you’re right here in front of me.” He took both of her hands in his and rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. “I don’t know how to be a boyfriend and am fairly certain I’ll be lousy at it, but if you’re willing to have me, I’d like to try.”
She stared into his gray eyes, taking his words in. He might not have said three particular words, but what he said was even better than M&Ms and blue and red pimpernels.
“You’re, uh, sort of leaving me hanging here, Cress.” The discomfort in his voice was actually quite charming.
She leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly over his, then said, “One sec.” She crawled across the bed and opened the cabinet where she’d stuffed her backpack. She dug through the pack—shoving aside clothes that were so filthy, she’d happily burn them when she got home—and plucked out the one notebook she’d managed to keep when she pared down to the backpack in Siirt. She opened the book to the page where she’d pressed one perfect pimpernel, and showed it to him. “It seems only fair that I give you flowers this time. I’d give you this one, except my plan is to keep it forever. So I’ll only give it to you if you’re planning to stick around.”
His brows drew together. “You kept it? Even after I was an abominable ass to you after?”
“Are you kidding? You gave me pimpernels in a nomad tent. I think it was the most romantic gesture of my life. Of course I kept one.”
He chuckled. “That was pretty smooth, wasn’t it?”
“You’ve set the bar high. I’m going to expect my boyfriend to top it in the future.”
“Damn. I’m doomed. But still, I’ll take this flower.” He lifted the notebook from her hands and set it on the side table. “And I’ll take you.” And then his hands were on her hips, pulling her against him until they were chest to chest. His lips hovered an inch above hers. He lifted the hem of her top and planted a hand on her bare waist. “Now, are we going to join the mile-high club or not?”
He kissed her again, and this time there was no holding back. Her arms circled his neck, and she pressed her body against his hard, muscular form. “We’re joining,” she murmured against his lips. “Wait!” She p
ulled away, reaching for the backpack with one groping arm because he hadn’t released her waist.
“Why? This was just starting to go in a direction I like.”
“Condoms,” she said, then kissed him one more time before extricating herself from his arms to dig in the bag. “Get naked while I find them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He started with his shirt buttons.
She found the box and tossed it on the bed, then pulled her top over her head and shucked her jeans, all while watching him disrobe with avid interest. They were in a fully lit room, and there was a super-comfortable bed within inches. This was the ultimate do-over.
His body was all corded muscle and smooth skin. A feast for her eyes, and she wanted to lick every inch.
“God, I love it when you look at me like I’m dinner,” he said.
“Then finish undressing, because I’m hungry.”
His eyes flared with heat. He kicked off his shoes and shucked his pants and briefs in one quick swipe, then sat on the bed to doff his socks. “No fair, Cressida, you aren’t stripping for me.”
She’d sort of forgotten to move as she took in his sculpted abs and the thin line of hair that trailed down to an erection that was all hers. She reached out to touch him, but, fully naked now, he scooted back on the bed, just out of her reach. “Uh-uh. Strip.”
She did as he commanded and in moments stood before him naked, hoping he’d like what he saw even one-tenth as much as she enjoyed his spectacular body. His slow, sexy smile was a good indicator.
He moved to sit at the foot of the bed and pulled her to stand between his thighs. He took her hips in his hands. His tongue flicked across first one nipple, then the other, as his hands slid to her bottom and squeezed. The feel of his tongue and hands made her body clench with anticipation.
He cradled her hips as his mouth explored her breasts. She purred and touched his smooth jaw, enjoying the silky feel of his freshly shaven skin, while watching her nipple disappear into his hot mouth.
He slipped a hand between her thighs and stroked her clit, and she let out a soft moan. This was real. This was Ian. Touching her. And it was only the beginning.
“You can make noise, Cress. The hum of the engine is so loud, the sound won’t carry.” He brushed a finger over her clit again, fast, hard friction, and she let out a small shriek at the sensation.
She reached down and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and slowly stroked upward. He lifted his chin and sucked air between his teeth. She loved the power of turning him on. The way his whole body reacted, as if every muscle contracted at once. He was a mass of powerful, perfect manhood, and she could make his entire body respond with just the slightest touch. “Mine,” she whispered.
Ian chuckled and slid a finger inside her. He tilted his head back to meet her gaze. “And this is mine.”
He was everything she wanted—exceedingly intelligent, alpha, with a protective and possessive streak that fed her needs.
She kissed him, taking his tongue deep into her mouth as she slid her hand up and down his thick length. She loved the feel of his tongue against hers, but she wanted more. Wanted to taste all of him.
She dropped to her knees and licked the head of his hard prick. He let out a low groan. She took the tip into her mouth and sucked as she slid down, taking him deep into her throat.
His fingers threaded through her hair and tilted her head back until she met his hot gaze as she sucked on his cock. She felt his body coil around her, his thighs tighten as his eyes smoldered.
He cradled her cheeks and gently nudged her upward, sliding his cock from her mouth. He pulled her to her feet again, then kissed her deeply. “You are amazing,” he said against her lips. He scooted to the side, making room for her on the bed. “And I want to lick you and suck on you, and make you come on my tongue. And then I want to slide deep inside and make you come again.”
She lay down beside him and slid a finger between her thighs into her wet center. She groaned at the pleasure of her own touch.
“God, that’s hot,” he said.
She lifted her damp fingers and slipped them into his mouth. He closed his eyes and sucked. He let out a low growl and placed his hands between her thighs, spreading her wide. She was open and vulnerable and found it hot. Exhilarating.
He dipped his head down and flicked his tongue across her clit. She bucked upward, the touch ten times more intense than fingers had been. He moved his tongue lower, to slip inside her vagina.
“Fuck you taste good.” He stroked and teased with his tongue, alternating between her clit and her opening, bringing her so close to orgasm, her whole body shook. But she wanted him inside her when she came. He hadn’t said he loved her, but this was still a declaration of sorts, and she wanted to be hip-to-hip, face-to-face as they came together.
She wiggled away from him before he could make her come. “Get a condom on and get inside me, or all deals are off.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Did we make a deal I wasn’t aware of?”
“You offered to try being a boyfriend. I might have accepted. But it’s a trial run. Starting now, you’re on trial.”
He let out a loud belly laugh at that and scooted upward until his head rested on her abdomen. “God, Cress, you make me feel so good—lighter—and I’m not talking about sex.” He lifted his head and met her gaze over the landscape of her belly and the rise of her breasts. “Just being with you makes me feel…excitement, for something new, different. For you. I haven’t let myself feel this way in a long, long time.”
Okay, it wasn’t I love you, but he was getting closer. He was, after all, talking about feelings. “Kiss me,” she said.
He slid up the bed, his firm body a sweet pressure on hers as the dark curls on his chest brushed against her skin, setting off tingles along the way. He kissed her, all right…slowly…methodically…passionately. As if every barrier between them had been crushed under the onslaught of a decade worth of banked emotions.
That he’d set his emotions free with her only made the moment sweeter. And sexier.
Ohmygod, it was sexier. Heat flooded her. She had to have him, every amazing inch of him, inside her. Pressed up against her. Touching in every way possible. She needed him. Now.
She groped for the condoms, wondering where the hell they’d left them and why he wasn’t in one now, because if he didn’t get inside her before her next heartbeat…
He somehow produced a condom, and she watched him slide it on, then finally… Yes! She gave thanks to whatever higher power made this moment possible. He filled her, his thick cock stroking her with each hot thrust. She’d been on the brink of orgasm since he’d gone down on her, and now she rode that edge, bursts of pleasure threatening to tip her to the other side. With a deep gasp, she clenched around him, and he pulsed into her at a perfect clip. She wanted to melt, to dissolve, to implode, as the pressure built to intense levels.
His mouth found hers, and he kissed her deeply, his tongue a welcome hot intrusion. He lifted his lips from hers and threw back his head as his body rocked between her thighs. The pressure reached the tipping point, and she came with such a hard, sharp intensity, she couldn’t hold back a guttural scream.
Ian’s back arched, and he laughed as his orgasm followed. She loved watching his face as he came, the handsome lines somehow even sexier as he clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. Unlike her, he was quiet. Instead, she felt his body shudder, and he let out a soft groan.
She caressed his cheeks as he collapsed on her. He slipped his arms around her back and rolled to his side, still inside her, still sending shockwaves of pleasure with the pressure of his cock hitting just the right places.
He must have noticed her reaction, because he thrust his hips forward, and another short wave hit her. “I love making you come,” he said. “I love how your face goes soft and dreamy, yet you scream with release.”
She tucked her head into his chest. “I hope no one out there heard that.”
She laughed and lightly punched him on the shoulder.
“I could really get used to this. So as your boyfriend, how often do we get to have sex?”
“Every time you seduce me.” No point in letting the guy get complacent, after all.
“That much, huh? Sweet.” He nuzzled her neck, then met her gaze. “Very sweet.” His chin brushed the chain of the evil eye pendant, and she stiffened. This was where everything went wrong the first time.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m going to stick around for the long haul. Promise.”
She nodded.
“We should probably get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day when we land in DC. Or evening. Or night. Honestly, I’ve lost track.”
“Me too. I’m not even certain I could name the day of the week if you asked me.”
“Eh, knowing days of the week is overrated.”
She smiled and nibbled on his chin, fighting the words I love you that burned to be said. She couldn’t take the risk, couldn’t say them first—not again. What if she did and he didn’t say them back to her?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
They slept entwined, something Ian had never enjoyed until now. But then, he had a feeling he’d enjoy a lot of things with Cressida that had never been pleasurable before.
He’d probably never know what brought him to the cabin door and gave him the courage to step inside. Maybe it was Sean, calling him an ass for hesitating. Maybe it was talking to the one married operative who somehow made the lifestyle work, or the hardened, lonely operative who gave Ian a glimpse of where he’d be in another ten years. It might have been the thought of Cressida moving on with her life, while he spent the rest of his regretting the decision to let her go.
Regardless of the trigger, entering the cabin had been an impulse, without a clear plan. He just…wanted, and was tired of getting in his own way. Tired of denying himself.
She slept soundly in his arms, and once again he watched her. He smiled, knowing she’d accuse him of being creepy, but couldn’t help it. This sleep was different from the other times he’d watched. This time she was sated. Tousled. Beautifully fucked.