Wade never thought Elijah would survive that night, but he had. After a few days in lockdown, he’d made promises and offered a deal—he’d hand over certain documents and connect a few dots to take the heat out of the continuing threats from the CIA. In return, Jarrett gave Elijah a place to hide and medical care. He didn’t need focus or a purpose. He had one—revenge for the termination of his team.
And Becca was one of his targets.
Which led them right back around to the one woman who seemed to ruin everything simply by existing. Wade wished Jarrett would see her destructive force before it knocked him down a second time.
Wade threw his keys and everything else in his hand on the small glass table next to the front door. “She can’t come on this floor without a security card or alarm code. She doesn’t have either and she thinks you’re dead.”
Elijah glanced at the keys before looking at Wade again. Those near-black eyes sparked with fire as Elijah spoke. “But she’ll get the codes and go searching. It’s part of who she is.”
“Who you both are.”
“Yes, it comes with the training. If you survive it, you’re forever changed and ready to hunt down clues and information, no matter the trouble you cause.”
Wade wondered if Elijah was describing his own obsession or guessing at hers. “I’m going to hope you’re wrong about that.”
With the cavernous open room right there, Elijah paced the few feet of concrete directly in front of Wade. Back and forth, with his black sneakers making only a whisper of sound against the floor.
Wade was about to ask for some breathing room when Elijah came to a halt in front of him. “Where is she right now?”
“With Jarrett, and that should stop this conversation.” Wade shifted to pivot around Elijah and head for the kitchen.
Elijah caught his arm. “Fuck that.”
This rage had the potential to blow loud and huge. Eli and Jarrett, two men who demanded control and absolute obedience locked in a power play. Wade couldn’t think of a worse scenario. “Jarrett is in charge and decides who comes inside his building, from the clients to the staff to the visitors. That includes you, so I wouldn’t push him.”
“She’s different.” The gun stayed in Elijah’s hand even though it now pointed at the floor.
“Yeah, well, we don’t get a say in who he screws or if he lets her back in his life.”
A red fury covered Elijah’s face. “Becca Ford destroys everything.” The words ripped out of him as if he struggled not to scream his insight.
And Wade couldn’t disagree with either the fury or the words. “That’s what history suggests, yes.”
“Why are you so calm about this? You don’t want her here either.” Elijah was waving the gun now.
Gone was the steady black-ops genius who broke in the club door with his team eight months ago and started Jarrett’s legal nightmares. This Elijah had been hunted and beaten by the very people he once trusted. He had nothing left to lose. With his training and emotional blankness, he could only be described as scary dangerous.
Wade didn’t want to fire the guy up any more, but he wasn’t exactly thrilled with Jarrett’s decision-making today either. His boss’s usually firm grip on control slipped when Becca’s face popped up on the security cameras. After nearly ten years as Jarrett’s sidekick, Wade could count the number of times something shook Jarrett’s resolve. All but one grew out of his relationship with Becca.
Wade wanted her gone. “She fucks with Jarrett’s head. So, no, I don’t want her here. He has an almost inexplicable weakness for her and—”
“She will get me killed.”
“Then I guess it’s good people think you’re already dead.”
Elijah spun around. The gun arced through the air as if it were part of his body now. “You think this situation is fucking funny?”
“Not even a little,” Wade said. The only thing less funny would be getting shot at the front door to his own damn apartment. He left those days when he threw in with Jarrett.
“Now, step back.” Wade was prepared to use the weapon tucked into his belt to make the point if he had to and started a mental countdown.
After a heartbeat of silence, punctuated only by Elijah’s sharp breathing, he turned around and headed for the family room. The gun clinked against the coffee table as Elijah set it down. He sat down hard in the middle of the sleek gray sectional a second later.
For one brief beat, the mask fell and Wade got a peek at the rolling panic underneath. A dark shadow moved behind Elijah’s eyes and his throat bobbled. For a guy who never flinched, any sign of worry signaled a catastrophe, and this went well beyond worry.
As it always did when Elijah exposed a glimpse into the real man underneath, Wade’s control broke. “Eli—”
His head dropped back against the cushions. “This is unbe-lievable.”
The whisper broke through the last of the tension whipping around Wade. “Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay.”
“Why is she here?” Elijah lifted his head. His eyes darkened as he let out a long exhale. “She should be running or in CIA custody. Anywhere except in the place where this whole shitstorm started. I’m here, in part, because of her. To figure out her role in all of this and make it all stop.”
With the emotional surge over, Wade shut the door to the private floor and walked over to the couch. “I don’t know what’s going on with her.”
“You had to overhear something.”
Not enough, which was why he made the call to the one other person Jarrett would listen to and could not ignore. The other person Jarrett considered a friend. Wade knew he needed reinforcements to convince the boss on this one and didn’t hesitate.
“Jarrett rushed her into his office and kicked me out.” Wade said as he sat down next to Elijah. Not across from him or in another chair. Next to, close enough to feel the furious heat radiate off the other man’s body.
“I watched it all on the internal security feed. They came out of his office and he took her upstairs.” Elijah wiped a hand down his face. “Paraded her through the halls naked.”
Wade swore under his breath. So much for all those calls for revenge and promises to destroy her if she ever walked across the D.C. border again. In those early days after the arrest and as the scandal hit the papers, Jarrett had lived for the scenarios he created to go after her. Now, within ten minutes of seeing her, he already had it bad for the woman again.
“Not his most subtle move, but probably not a surprise.” Wade shifted and turned until he faced Elijah with their knees touching. “I told you, when it comes to her, Jarrett thinks with his dick.”
“Jarrett Holt, one of the few men I view as dangerous, and I’m a trained killer.” Elijah touched a hand to his chest. “This guy has a brain misfire over pussy?”
Wade winced over the new round of fury rising in Elijah’s voice. “You might not want to say it that way to him.”
“Fucking women.”
Wade barked out a laugh. “Don’t ask me. They’re not my thing.”
He balanced his elbows on his knees and stared at the thick black rug in the center of the room under his feet. He tried to reason this through, figure out the right words to say to Jarrett to get him to give Becca some money and send her away. The public viewed Jarrett as ruthless and cold, until someone wanted something, then all of a sudden he was the only man in town worth talking to. But Wade knew better. Jarrett rose from a pile of crap and created something. Then Becca broke him.
The arguments stopped screaming in Wade’s head long enough for him to notice the dragging quiet. He glanced up and caught Elijah staring. The heated anger had left his face and his gaze roamed now.
His fists unclenched and he spread his fingers on the thighs of his khaki cargo pants. “What is your thing, Wade?”
The change in the moo
d, the new type of tension swirling in the room, had Wade’s mouth going dry. “I think you know.”
“I know what worked for you last night. How you begged for my mouth as you grabbed the headboard.”
Images flashed in his head. Elijah between his legs, sucking as he worked a hand up and down on his cock. Wade had to swallow twice to get the words out. “The club opens soon.”
Elijah sat up, shifting to the front of the cushion and dipping his head until only inches separated them. “You saying no?”
Looked like Jarrett wasn’t the only one having trouble hanging on to an ounce of control. Wade wondered if the weakness for sex was contagious. Something circulating through the building’s air vents. “Have I said no since you got here?”
A small smile played on the corner of Elijah’s mouth. “Not once.”
“Then you have my answer.”
He pointed at the carpet. “Get on your knees.”
Wade wanted to say no this time. Wanted to keep the conversation, the pent-up anger, aimed at Becca and exhaust it so Eli could move on. Wanted to but failed when Elijah reached over and cupped his hand over the zipper of Wade’s pants.
His cock jumped to life under Eli’s palm. When his fingers traced the length and gave a squeeze, Wade forgot all about the other people in the building.
It had been this way from the beginning. Eli lay in bed for days as he recuperated. His fury against the CIA festered. Wade would visit and stand by the bed and listen, hoping to hear something that would help Jarrett’s case. Then one day Eli’s hand knocked against Wade’s leg. He ignored it, wrote it off as a strange gesture, until the next day when Eli’s palm rested against the outside of Wade’s thigh for more than a passing second.
Every offhanded brush had burned through Wade and shaken his up-until-then solid hatred for Eli, but Wade tried not to let the break in his defenses show. He lasted until the day, a week after those initial stray touches, when Eli stared him down. With their gazes locked, he’d skimmed his fingers over Wade’s fly then caressed the erection he kicked to life underneath.
The first day Eli was well enough to stand and move around without help, he walked across the second-floor hallway and climbed into Wade’s bed. He’d been there every night since.
Sliding off the couch now, Wade’s knees hit the floor. His hands traveled up and down Eli’s firm thighs, outlining every muscle and pressing his legs farther apart to make room between them.
“I need this.” Elijah’s hands were everywhere. Over Wade’s shoulders and chest, curling down until they stopped at the button to his pants. “I need you.”
Wade knew. He felt it in the steady thrum of excitement moving through Eli’s muscles and in the way his stare turned hot. The readiness touched off Wade’s.
“Let me take away some of that stress,” he said as he cupped the bulge tightening the material behind Eli’s zipper.
Wade closed his eyes as Eli tunneled fingers through his hair. “Damn, I always want you,” Eli said.
The words chipped away at the walls Wade built as protection against caring too much. The fevered words, the quiet way Eli would run his fingers over Wade’s cheek and across his collarbone in the dark of the bedroom and long after they’d gone to bed. It all combined to mean something. More than once Wade had pretended to be asleep to savor the touches.
“That’s how I want you—wound up and ready.” Wade popped the button on Eli’s pants. “Now you tell me what you want.”
Eli slid a hand under Wade’s chin and lifted his head until they stared at each other. “Your mouth. On me, over me.”
“I’m going to suck you off.”
“Yes.” The word came out on a groan as Eli pushed Wade’s head down.
Wade traced Elijah’s cock through his pants, felt the ridge and saw the distinct outline. He rubbed his hand over it, squeezed and tightened his grip until Elijah shifted his hips forward. The zipper ticked as Wade slowly lowered it, unveiling inch after inch of Elijah’s impressive cock where it pressed against his underwear.
From the first time together, they’d established a pattern. Elijah led but Wade set the rhythm. He decided if they went slow or fast. When they used their mouths and how Eli entered him.
Wade slipped Elijah’s cock through the slit in the boxer briefs. Pumped his hand up and down until it swelled to life. He drew the head into his mouth and licked his tongue over the tip. The smell, the hardness, touched off a wild frenzy inside Wade.
His mouth slid down, taking Eli deeper as his moan echoed through the cavernous room. Loving the husky sound, Wade pushed the cock to the back of his throat then slowly drew it out again.
“Wade . . .” His voice cut off. “That feels so damn good.”
Wade licked a line up Eli’s cock. “I love the way you taste.”
Elijah’s head fell forward as he whispered into Wade’s hair. “Then make me come.”
SEVEN
Jarrett propped his back against the stacked pillows of the guest bed and watched Becca. Slow and steady, she sat up. Facing him with her legs crossed in front of her, she picked up a stray pillow and tucked it in her lap, between her legs, covering all but her shoulders and thighs to his view.
He would have ordered her to put it down and show him everything, but the sex clouded his head. Even now need pounded him. He fought back the urge to roll her under him and slip inside her again.
It had taken only the barest touch of her skin to transport him back to the time before her betrayal. His tongue licked inside her and he forgot about her lies and willingness to hand him over to people who wanted to destroy him and all he’d built. That body, that mind. She wove a spell around him, dragging him in deeper. If she hadn’t tried to kiss him, he’d probably be drooling like a pathetic dog at her feet.
His lack of control pissed him off. Made him long to hate her.
Maybe hearing whatever tale she wanted to sell him would restoke his rage. He didn’t even bother to pull up his pants. He just lay there, bare assed with his pants shoved down to his upper thighs. Ready to laugh off whatever bullshit line she planned to feed him.
“I’m listening,” he said as he forced his mind off her body and back to her lying words.
“This isn’t a secret.” Her hair drifted over her shoulder. “I need somewhere to hide while I figure this out.”
“So, I’m your landlord and we’re trading sex for rent.” He should want that, demand it even. Yet he hated the thought of being used by her for nothing more than a release and a roof.
She clenched the pillow tighter against her bare chest. “I didn’t say that.”
“While I admit I don’t know you—you proved that eight months ago—I did learn something living with you.”
“Like?”
“You aren’t the hang-around-the-house type.” Now he knew she’d been too busy snooping and reporting back to her superiors.
“Maybe I am now.”
He scoffed. “Sure.”
“I’m tired of running, Jarrett. It started as a kid and I still haven’t stopped.”
Jarrett knew her history. The custody case that blew up into a kidnapping and international race. Years of hiding, changing names and moving around. It all ended with her father dying at the end of a police officer’s gun and Becca blaming her mother.
The fact that Becca dealt with the upheaval by picking a career that put her on the run fascinated Jarrett. When he first found out her life was a lie he expected her childhood history to be part of the concocted cover, but the file he collected on her backed it all up. It was quite possible her upbringing was the one truth she’d told him.
But no way would he let the sad story or the exhaustion in her voice pull at him. This was all about acting for her. About carefully throwing out a word for maximum impact and getting what she wanted, regardless of what that did to him. “I’m bet
ting you have a safe house and stored money. Yet here you are with not even an extra shirt to your name.”
She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t let me wear it if I did.”
Seemed the wariness that followed her when she first arrived was now gone, and sarcasm moved into its place. Wasn’t that just fucking great? “Tell me about the safe house.”
She fiddled with the bottom edge of the pillow, rubbing it between two fingers. “Exactly why would you think I have one?”
“Humor me.”
“I kind of am.”
His temper flared and he had to clamp down hard to keep his back against the pillows and his indifference in place. “Rebecca.”
“The safe house was a rendezvous spot for the team. Since most of the team members are now dead, hanging out there seemed like a bad idea.”
“Probably a good call.”
“Someone cleaned out two of the drops where I kept money and identification documents.” She exhaled, letting her head drop back and treating him to the enticing length of her neck. “The crash pad I had on my own could be compromised because I have no idea who knows what or how.”
“I’m betting there’s more to this story.”
“I know everyone thinks operatives have passports hidden in every country, but I don’t.” She lowered her head and faced him again. “And what I do have hidden I have to be able to get to without being shot or set on fire, so there’s that.”
He ignored the fire part. “So you came to me.”
She shook her head and her mouth moved, all before her shoulders fell. “Okay, yes.”
“The man you betrayed.” This time he moved. He couldn’t stand to sit still one more second.
The point was to reduce their interaction to sex, distant yet satisfying. In-depth conversations and unaccounted for time together would only lead to trouble. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and the bottom two holding his shirt closed.
“Again, not how I would phrase it.” Her words came out slowly as her gaze followed his hands.
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