Closing his eyes, he plowed his fingers through her hair. “I can pretend it’s the fiery red I love.”
“Shh.” She pressed the pad of her thumb to his lips.
His fingers dug into her scalp as he urged her down. “Take me in your mouth. Taste me.”
She closed her lips around his girth, and he moaned in rhythm as she drew him in and out of her mouth.
He pulled away from her, sitting back on his heels. “It’s been too long. I can’t last like that.”
She caressed his shoulders and kissed the spot right above his left nipple. “Tell me what to do next.”
He grabbed a fistful of T-shirt. “You can take this off for starters. Why are you still covered?”
She clutched the edge of the shirt, suddenly shy. Would he notice the differences in her body? Would he know what they meant?
She’d been rail-thin when she escaped from the labor camp, four months pregnant. Undernourished and overworked, she’d feared for the life of her baby. If she’d been captive any more than the two months she’d endured, she would’ve lost Bella for sure.
Instead, she’d wound up in Jamaica with her mother and Chaz, and Mom had coddled her through the duration of her pregnancy, kept her in bed the first two months, well fed and stationary.
Rikki had put on more than enough weight for her pregnancy, and Bella, although born a few weeks early, had posted a healthy weight and length.
During the pregnancy and after, Rikki’s breasts had increased in size and softened, her hips had widened, too, and she presented a much different figure than the taut, tight athlete Quinn had first bedded in Dubai.
Impatient with her reluctance, Quinn dragged the T-shirt from her body and yanked down her panties. “That’s much better.”
With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, Rikki watched Quinn study her new body. His eyes darkened to unfathomable depths.
Then he reached out and cupped her breasts. The thrill of his touch shot down to her belly and lower, creating an aching need. She arched her back, thrusting her chest forward.
He juggled her breasts in his hands as if testing their heft. “I like this new development.”
He molded her waist with his palms and reached back to stroke her derriere. “And this. When you get your job back with the Agency, you should let them know you wanna lay off the PT because someone likes your new curves.”
One side of her mouth crooked into a smile. He approved of her appearance, and more important, he’d dismissed it as the lack of rigorous physical training on her part. Not that she planned to keep Bella a secret from him forever. She just needed to get through this, get her life back, and then she’d tell Quinn everything—no strings attached.
He kissed her mouth. “What are you smiling about?”
“I’m just glad you like the difference.”
“You’re kidding. I wouldn’t think you’d give a damn one way or the other.” He eased her back onto the bed and straddled her on his knees. He lowered his body and squeezed her breasts around the tip of his erection. “But just in case you do give a damn and need proof? Here it is, baby.”
He skimmed his tip down the length of her body, prodding between her legs.
Her knees fell open, inviting him in, inviting him home.
He stretched out on the bed on his stomach, between her legs, his own hanging off the foot of the bed. He placed his hands against her inner thighs and spread them apart.
Butterflies swirled in her stomach, and her legs shook.
Quinn dragged his scruffy chin over her soft flesh, drawing a gasp from her lips. Then he probed her with the tip of his tongue, searching out all her secret places.
She stretched her arms over her head, crossing them at the wrists, in total supplication and surrender. Raising her hips off the bed, she choked out, “More, please don’t stop.”
“Oh, I won’t stop, my little Buttercup, but you wanted to play this game, didn’t you?”
The teasing glint in his eye had her desperate laugh ending on a hiccup. Her job demanded that she be strong, in control, tough as nails, and she’d delivered. When she first met Quinn, he’d joked that she could scare the buttercups off their stems. So when she became soft and vulnerable for him, just for him, he’d started calling her Buttercup. It still made her weak in the knees.
But he hadn’t forgotten the game they played, and he began in earnest. He removed his tongue from her throbbing, swollen flesh and nibbled on the insides of her thighs. He touched her everywhere in every way, except for the pleasure spot between her legs.
He set every nerve ending on fire, had her thrashing her head from side to side, digging her fingernails into his buttocks, wrapping her legs around his hips—until she quivered and begged beneath him.
“Please, Quinn. Please. I’m aching.”
He sat back, his erection bobbing in front of him, his skin flushed, obviously experiencing the same frustrated, agonizing pleasure she was—but that wasn’t their game.
“I need you. Only you. I’m begging you.”
He gave her burning nipple one more tweak. “Since you asked so nicely, Buttercup.”
He buried his head between her thighs, and two flicks from his tongue sent her over the edge.
Her orgasm roared through her, wringing the strength from every inch of her body, draining her, releasing her from every expectation, every responsibility, the sensations of her body taking over her mind, flooding it with pleasure.
She whimpered beneath him as he plowed into her, his hard desire eager and hungry.
Rikki wrapped her arms and legs around Quinn as he spent himself inside her.
After, he shifted from her body and pulled her back against his front, nuzzling the hollow of her neck. “I’m glad you’re among the living. It’s like I just had Christmas, my birthday and Mardi Gras all on the same day.”
“Me, too.” She pressed a hand against her stomach to calm the butterflies. Quinn wasn’t the bad guy. He needed to know about Bella, however he felt about having a child.
“Quinn?”
“Mmm?”
“I have something to tell you. I-I hope, well, I hope you’ll be happy about it.” She paused and swallowed. In a hoarse whisper, she said, “I had a baby—your baby.”
She waited several seconds while Quinn’s breathing deepened and slowed. Twisting her head over her shoulder, she scooted onto her back.
She sighed as she took in Quinn, sound asleep, still blissfully ignorant that he was a father.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Quinn woke her up by holding a mug of coffee beneath her nose. “He’s in the shower.”
“Who? What?” She rubbed her eyes. “Jeff?”
Quinn nodded, and she nearly upset the coffee as she bounded out of bed.
“Relax. I already searched his clothes, which he left on the bedroom floor. I didn’t find a thing.”
She tripped to a stop and pulled the T-shirt she’d been clutching to her chest over her head. “Do you think you can devise some story to get him to tell you about the flash drive without revealing who I am? Maybe I can just admit I’m the person he was supposed to meet.”
“If you do, that’ll connect you to me. He’s gonna wonder what our relationship is all about.”
She grabbed the edge of her T-shirt and twisted it into knots with her fingers. “Jeff didn’t know why he was meeting me. Didn’t know who I was. I’m sure he still thinks Rikki Taylor is dead, if he thinks about her at all. He sure as hell doesn’t know you had a fling with Rikki once upon a time.” She narrowed her eyes. “Does he?”
“It’s getting cold.” He held out the mug to her. “And no, Jeff doesn’t know anything about my personal life.”
“Then let’s just tell him I was his intended contact last night.” She took the mug from him and curled both hands a
round it.
“I don’t like that idea, Rikki. The lower you keep your profile, the better. What if Jeff talks?”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a talker. Pretty tight-lipped if you ask me.” She took a sip of the black brew and rolled it in her mouth before swallowing it.
“He’s discreet, a good agent, but what if he hears something about us from someone and puts two and two together? You’ve been doing a good job of keeping under the radar.”
“We’re going to have to reconnect anyway. I’m not letting that flash drive slip out of my clutches if it’s something that can help me. He’s going to see me then.”
“Not necessarily. You can arrange a drop where you don’t meet face-to-face. That’ll be easy for you to insist on, since Jeff has already been compromised.”
Rikki sank to the foot of the bed. What Quinn said made a lot of sense. She didn’t want to reveal any clues to her identity to anyone.
“You’re right. I’ll arrange a drop with him.” She curled one leg beneath her. “Who do you think ambushed him, us or them?”
“Since he’s still alive, I’m betting on one of ours—FBI maybe. They could suspect him of being a double agent. The good news is that they were following Jeff and not you.”
“All Jeff needs to do is get Ariel to vouch for him without revealing anything else. She’s doing stuff not even the CIA knows about.”
“Obviously, if she’s helping you. Why is she helping you?”
“Let’s just say Ariel is a kindred spirit.”
“You mean another woman in a male-dominated field. You mentioned that before.”
“Something like that.” She pulled the T-shirt away from her body. “I’m going to take a shower.”
As she brushed past Quinn, he grabbed a handful of her T-shirt and pulled her toward him. “Any regrets about last night?”
“None at all.” She kissed the edge of his chin. “You?”
“No, except that I feel like I kinda tricked you, I mean by inviting Jeff to take the extra room.”
She snorted. “You didn’t have me fooled for one minute, Quinn McBride.”
Showered and dressed in the jeans and blouse from last night, Rikki joined the men in the kitchen with her empty coffee cup.
Jeff raised a piece of toast in her direction. “I was just telling Quinn how sorry I am that I barged in on you two.”
Rikki squinted at Jeff’s black eye and puffy jaw. “I’m glad Quinn was home. Do you need to see a doctor?”
“I might need some stitches.” He brushed aside the lock of hair drooping over a bandage on his forehead. “But I’m okay.”
Hopping up on a stool at the kitchen counter, Rikki placed her cell phone in front of her. “Then we don’t mind at all, do we, Quinn?”
“Happy to help, bro.” Quinn held up the coffeepot. “Refills?”
Rikki shoved her cup across the counter, and Jeff nodded as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
“Do you want something else to eat, Jeff?” He pointed to the fridge. “Eggs?”
“Nothing fancy. Toast is okay.”
Her phone buzzed on the counter, and Rikki grabbed it. Jeff had sent her a text.
Slowly she raised her gaze to meet his. Understanding and acknowledgment flashed between them.
She’d been outed.
Chapter Six
A charged silence descended on the kitchen. Rikki held her breath as Quinn looked up from pulling slices of bread from a bag. His gaze darted from Jeff to her, understanding dawning in his eyes.
Rikki locked eyes with Jeff, his color high. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her fight-or-flight instinct in high gear.
Jeff ventured first, turning his cell phone outward. “You’re my contact, aren’t you?”
She ignored the question. “What happened to you last night? You can tell me.”
Jeff shifted his gaze to Quinn, his head down, busy with a bag of bread, whistling like an idiot—as if she and Jeff didn’t know he was listening to every word they said.
Rikki waved her hand in Quinn’s direction. “You can trust him.”
Jeff tipped his head at Quinn. “Are you involved in this?”
“Who, me? I’m just making toast.” Quinn held up two pieces of bread.
“Quinn’s not involved.” Rikki circled the edge of her coffee cup with the tip of her finger. “I know him, knew he lived here. Just like you, I went to him for help after things fell apart last night.”
Jeff dropped his shoulders as if dropping his guard. “I’m glad to see you’re okay. I didn’t know what happened after that guy attacked me and took my cap. He was trying to get info out of me, but a cop came by and he took off. He knew where we were meeting but none of the details.”
“That became obvious pretty quickly, since he didn’t have the sequence of codes down.”
“I’m sorry. I would’ve stayed around to warn you, but the cops wanted to question me. I had to get out of there, and then I passed out in a churchyard.” Jeff traced the lump beneath his eye. “He didn’t get anything out of you? Didn’t hurt you?”
“I-I was able to get away, and that’s when I called this guy.” She leveled a finger at Quinn.
Quinn shrugged and snatched the toast from the toaster. “I guess I’m the go-to guy in New Orleans.”
Rikki crossed her arms on the counter and leaned forward. “Do you have it?”
“Not on me.” Jeff patted his pockets. “Thank God. That man would’ve snatched it in a second.”
Quinn slid a plate in front of Rikki. “Do you have any idea who he was, Jeff? Was he one of yours?”
“CIA coming after one of its own? Maybe.”
“Let’s face it.” Rikki pinged her cup with her fingernail. “You were not on official CIA business. You were on Ariel’s business, and she flies under the CIA radar. Maybe someone at the Company picked up your actions and figured you for a double agent.”
Jeff leaned against the kitchen counter for support. “I hope not. I don’t want to have to do any explaining. After that whole Rikki Taylor thing with North Korea, our agency is on high alert.”
Rikki’s eye twitched and she rubbed it. “Rikki Taylor is dead.”
“Yeah, but not forgotten.” Jeff wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then dumped his coffee into the sink.
She wanted to ask Jeff the meaning of those words but didn’t want to show too much interest in Rikki Taylor. Quinn had been right. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell, and Jeff didn’t know of the connection between her and Quinn.
Now this second chance had fallen into her lap, and she had no intention of letting it slip by.
“Where is it?” Rikki had broken up her toast into several pieces but hadn’t taken one bite yet.
Jeff narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were last night when I staggered across Quinn’s threshold? You must’ve made me right away as your contact.”
“Quinn’s a friend. I didn’t want to expose him—not to you, not to the CIA. He’s on leave trying to relax. Just because we both chose to drag him into our business doesn’t give us the right to put a target on his back.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Quinn raised one hand.
Jeff nodded. “I get it. I wouldn’t have come here if I thought I could get back to my hotel safely.”
Rikki’s heart flip-flopped. “Nobody followed you here, right?”
“I was careful.”
Rikki pressed her lips together. Not that careful if he’d been found out before. “Anyway, I didn’t want to pull Quinn into this and didn’t want you linking me to him. I figured I could get you to drop the flash drive for me somewhere, and I’d pick it up and be on my way. Less exposure for you, too—you don’t know who you met, what she looked like or why you were dropping the flash drive.”
“My bad.” She exchanged a quick glance with Quinn, who was pretending to clean up the kitchen. Rikki should’ve known Ariel would keep things as anonymous as possible. “So, can you get it for me now?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll give you the same information I meant to give you at our meeting.”
“I’m ready.”
“It’s in the St. Louis Cemetery Number One.”
Rikki’s mouth dropped open. “You couldn’t leave it in a safe-deposit box?”
“Who’s going to suspect a cemetery?” Jeff lifted one shoulder. “It’s in the entrance to one of those family mausoleums—the St. Germaines. Two steps down, loose stone six in on the right. Pull that out, and you’ll find your flash drive...or whatever.”
“Kind of a public place, and it’s summertime with lots of tourists. Hope nobody stole it.” Quinn crossed his arms, feigning disinterest no more.
“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be there overnight.” Jeff pushed himself off the counter. “Now I’d like to get out of this city.”
Quinn didn’t budge from his position, and with his arms crossed and his biceps bulging, he looked large and in charge. “How and where do you think that guy picked up your trail?”
“I don’t have a clue.” Jeff licked his lips. “Nobody knew I was out here. I was thinking it must’ve been Ariel. Maybe someone is tracking her communications.”
“Why would that be?” Rikki tried to keep the panic from her voice, and she slipped her hands beneath the counter where she twisted her fingers into knots.
“I’m not sure. Have you ever met her?”
Rikki relaxed the lines of her face into a smooth mask. “No.”
“Nobody has. Do we even know if she’s male or female? Ariel’s a pseudonym.”
“I’m assuming Ariel is she.” Rikki lifted and dropped her shoulders quickly.
“She’s a woman.”
Rikki held her breath and swiveled her head around toward Quinn. He’d better not out Ariel. Rikki asked, “How do you know that?”
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