“I’m stating a fact.” He shrugged out of his shirt and threw it in a heap on the chair next to the bed.
“It’s a matter of perception. From where I sit you were the liar.”
“I’m not going to argue with you about the drugs, because they were not mine.” Rather than dwell on her words, he shoved his pants the rest of the way down his legs.
“So you say.”
“Put the pillow down.” He spared her a glance as he kicked off the last of his clothes. When he noticed she hadn’t moved, he tried to make his command clearer. “Now.”
“Jarrett, you don’t need to order me around.” The pillow moved against her as her breathing grew heavier. “I’m not fighting you about having sex. I said I was yours and I meant it.”
“Happy to hear it.” He took off the condom and wrapped a hand around his cock. “Move the pillow.”
She eased her hold on it. “You need to know you can’t break me.”
“An interesting concept.” He watched her as she eased her legs apart. “Why do you think I want to?”
“Experience.”
“While we’re on that subject, you know what I like.” Her mouth over him until his cock slid down her throat. Her riding him. Him sucking those nipples. He planned to run through every mind-blowing step then go downstairs and not let it touch him. Pretend it never happened.
“Does that mean the interrogation is over?” she asked.
“Come over here and we’ll see.”
He expected a battle. It wasn’t until she dropped the pillow on the mattress and showed him those breasts that he realized he was not the only one using sex to his advantage. She avoided his question. Expertly.
Damn her.
When she sprawled against his thighs and her fingers skimmed down his cock, he fought off the sensations rippling through him. With a hand under her chin he lifted her head. “Tell me the rest.”
She blinked several times. “What?”
“Why do you need me specifically and not some other guy you fucked on the job?” He cupped her cheek and didn’t let her turn away. “If you want to be treated as more than a sex toy, you might want to try the truth.”
“Sex toy?”
“Is there a term you’d prefer?”
When he let go, she dropped her head to the side, sending her hair falling over his bare thighs. Seeing that, feeling the gentle touch, had the air punching against the walls of his chest. She started talking a second before he forgot his plan and dragged her up to straddle him.
“Your computer system,” she said.
His mind rushed to catch up with his dick. “Excuse me?”
“I need access to your computer system with its rotating IP addresses and bouncing signal through proxy servers and whatever else you have that will ensure no one backtracks the snooping to me.”
He framed her face with his hands and forced her to give him full eye contact again. Not that she couldn’t lie without blinking, but he wanted to make the task difficult at least. “You think I’m handing you my passwords?”
She nodded. “And opening your Rolodex, or whatever electronic version you have of one. Might be I need your contacts to dig deep enough to figure out why everything went sideways on Spectrum and who placed the order to kill off the team.”
He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed by her hubris or stunned by her insanity. “Ignoring the fact none of that is ever going to happen, if you do manage to get to ground zero on this fact-finding mission, what then?”
“I convince the person doing the attacking to leave me alone.”
He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, huh?” But he knew she wasn’t talking about a friendly chat. She was a survivor and would take down whoever got in the way.
“Yes.”
Looks like insanity won the day. “No way any of that is going to happen.”
“We can set up any parameters you want.” She crawled up his body, stopping when her knees touched the outside of his hips. “But I need the power circles you move in to make this work.”
He tried not to touch her, but she wasn’t making that easy. With all the sifting and bouncing, her breast brushed against his cheek and now pressed against his chest.
He cleared his throat, but it didn’t do anything to stop the erotic dance playing in his head or the swelling of his cock right beneath her. “You mean you want my Holton Woods client list.”
With her hands planted on the headboard she leaned in closer. “Possibly.”
Sweet hell. Her scent wrapped around him, and his body jerked when her wetness pressed against his thigh.
“You’ve lost your mind.” And he was two seconds away from losing his.
“I’m desperate.”
His hands went to her hips. He had to slow this down, if only to grab a second condom. “Apparently.”
“And I am willing to give you whatever you need to help me.” She said the words while trailing a line of kisses down his throat.
“You mentioned my need for revenge. What do you do if all investigative roads lead to me?”
She lifted her head, slipped her fingers through his hair. “Are you trying to kill me, Jarrett?”
He was a fucking dead man. “You aren’t going to control this situation or me.”
She pushed up on her knees. With a hand on the back of his head, she brought her nipple to his mouth. “We’ll see.”
• • •
Wade groaned as he rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed. His head spun, so he grabbed on to the mattress to keep from tipping back over.
Eli had drained every ounce of energy from his body. Even now Wade looked down to where his limp cock lay against his thigh and tried to remember when his pants came off. Eli’s mouth and hands. The sex was a wild ride that had Wade hooked.
“One more round.” Elijah’s sleepy voice echoed through the room with his favorite refrain.
Wade already expected his legs to wobble when he stood up. “Another round and you’ll have to carry me downstairs.”
Eli laughed, something he rarely did. “That would be interesting.”
“I’m trying to imagine what the club patrons would say.” Wade didn’t hide his sexuality, but he didn’t advertise it either. Once or twice club members had come on to him and he shut that down fast. No way was he screwing with the folks he served.
When he leaned forward, thinking he’d get up, Eli stopped him with a hand on the arm. “Don’t leave yet.”
A second later his palm skimmed over Wade’s back. Fingers traveled down his spine to the top of his ass. Then lips pressed against his bare hip.
The man had the stamina of a boy half his age.
Wade twisted around to look at his lover. Eli rested on his side as his tongue licked over Wade’s skin. The exhaustion so prevalent when he tried to sit up less than a minute ago vanished. His body revved to life and he had to smile at how quickly his mind turned from I can’t move to I want him again.
Still, he held on to common sense this time. Knowing Jarrett didn’t accept “having good sex with Eli” as an excuse for being late opening the club helped. “I can’t.”
Eli leaned back and stared up at Wade. “Are you too sore?”
He rubbed his palm over Eli’s upper arm, tracing the line of his muscle with his finger. “I’m good.”
“You’re fucking great, but that’s not news.” Eli dropped back against the pillows in a sprawl.
“You’re talking about the sex, I’m assuming.”
Eli’s dark-eyed gaze toured Wade’s face. “In part.”
Defining their time together as something more than sex? That was new. “Really?”
“I know I can be a shit.”
“True.”
“Thinking about Becca being in the same building makes me crazed an
d this situation . . .” Eli exhaled long and loud as his hand fell back against the pillow. “I’m just saying you’re the one good thing I have going now.”
Wade hated that the words meant so much, but Eli rarely opened up. Only in bed did he lower his defenses. He stayed in black-ops shutdown mode most of the time. He’d made clear at the start the relationship would revolve around sex, then end when he no longer needed to hide out in the building.
And now this. Leave it to Eli to open the door to real emotion when Wade had to get downstairs to work.
He balanced a palm against the bed and leaned over Elijah. “I know this situation, being hunted, sucks for you.”
“My temper tends to rage even without being threatened, but it’s true bucking death isn’t helping.”
“You’re getting better about the outbursts.” And Wade welcomed the change.
At first Eli slammed around like a caged animal, only finding any sort of peace when they had sex. Now he could relax enough to study files and not need to pace around mumbling.
“Because of you.” Eli’s hand trailed down Wade’s chest.
Wariness warred with pounding excitement inside Wade. “What brought this on?”
Eli frowned. “Things are going to get bad. While she’s here, I mean.”
Wade feared the same thing. “Okay.”
“Well, I want you to know when I lose it, and I will, it’s not about you.”
His cock jerked to life when Eli’s fingers slipped down and around him.
Wade tried to clear his throat but whatever was stuck in there wouldn’t budge. “You could try not losing control.”
Eli leaned forward and ran his tongue over Wade’s nipple. “Not possible around you.”
This time words tripped in Wade’s brain. “I meant the anger.”
“I’m talking about us.” Eli cupped the back of Wade’s neck and brought his head down until their lips almost touched. “So, stop talking and get back into bed.”
EIGHT
Two hours later Jarrett stood in the doorway to the main lounge area as the club’s energy ramped up for the night. Silverware clanked and the murmur of conversation flowed from the first wave of casual diners and business dinners.
Jarrett surveyed it all as a surge of satisfaction roared through him. Not bad for a son of a whore who spent most of his elementary school years eating stale chips for dinner because that’s all there was. He’d fought and crawled and done nasty things he’d sooner forget, but those days were behind him. Even after the near-killing blow from Becca. He’d picked up and gotten back to work, rebuilding trust and ensuring his clientele the charges amounted to nothing more than a rogue police operation.
Having clients in high places helped to sell that story. So did the information he turned over to the CIA in exchange for his freedom. It was the ultimate deal with the devil, but he’d survived the flashover when there was no way he should have.
He watched Wade step out from behind the bar and walk over. He smiled and made small talk with a few of the members. Jarrett wondered if some of these elites had any idea the man who served them drinks once worked as an enforcer for some very nasty criminal types. Those days were long gone, but Jarrett suspected the instincts were as sharp as ever.
Wade stopped next to Jarrett and joined in scanning the crowd. “Elijah is worried.”
Which reminded Jarrett how crowded the top two floors of his building had become. “He should be grateful he’s not dead.”
“He was watching on the surveillance monitors. He saw Becca come in. Saw you walk her through the hall.” Wade grinned. “I believe he mentioned something about her being naked.”
That was enough to kill of the last of Jarrett’s sexual high. “Fuck me.”
“I’m guessing that’s what happened upstairs this afternoon.” Wade returned a nodding greeting to a congressman who walked by before slipping into a back booth. “Guess you forgot about Elijah being in the building and tapped into the security feed.”
Jarrett hadn’t bothered reasoning out the issue of the conflicting endgames at work in the minds of the two people upstairs. Now he would. “I should have shot him two months ago when he crawled up to the door and begged for help.”
“Technically, you did. Took out the gun and nailed him in the shoulder.”
Another voice broke in. “Don’t admit to doing that.”
Jarrett hadn’t even heard him step up, but Sebastian Jameson stood on the other side of him. Well over six feet with brown hair and glasses, he looked every inch the proper prep school boy, Ivy League–educated lawyer type he was.
Of course, the reputation about his wild private life didn’t match the influential business life. At thirty-four, his bedroom scorecard put most men in town to shame. Jarrett was only a few months older and had gone round with many women, but Bast trumped it all because a book by his ex-wife forever memorialized his antics.
The poor bastard.
“Bast?” They shook hands. “What are you doing here?”
“Decided to stop by for dinner.”
Jarrett noticed Bast didn’t even try to make the excuse sound convincing. “Since when do you leave the office and eat before eight?”
“I’m a member here. Do I need a reason to stop by?”
Jarrett let out a loud exhale. “So, Wade called you.”
“To be fair, I texted,” Wade said.
Bast looked around Jarrett and nodded to Wade. “He may have mentioned some trouble and you needing a keeper.”
Jarrett couldn’t find the energy to get pissed off. Not when Wade’s call was probably the right move. “I’ll fire you later.”
“That should be interesting.”
Bast laughed. “I advise against that course of action as well. Some days Wade is the only thing standing between you and oblivion.”
“True.” Jarrett debated putting off the conversation to come. Faking a work emergency and excusing himself. But none of that was his style. He motioned Bast in the direction of the back office. “Come with me.”
They walked to the door leading to the private space. Neither spoke. Conversations and music whirled around them, but no one tried to stop them. Likely had to do with their matching frowns and dark in-charge suits.
Jarrett opened the lock and walked in. He stopped when he saw the pile of abandoned clothes in the middle of the floor. The bra was tough to miss since it sat on top.
And Bast being Bast, he didn’t ignore the lingerie. He glanced down with an obvious smile. “Interesting.”
Bending down, Jarrett scooped it all up and dumped the stack on the floor by his feet behind his desk. “I’m clearly off my game today.”
“Speaking of which, what did you do that has Ward calling me during the middle of the day, insisting I stop by?” Bast didn’t bother sitting down in one of the chairs. He slid a thigh on the edge of the desk and leaned there, looming over Jarrett.
“Becca Ford.”
Bast’s grin faded. “I thought you stopped doing her eight months ago.”
“Do you have to phrase it that way?”
“I’m thinking yes.”
Not one to share, Jarrett hadn’t confided much with other people about those lost tense months. Wade knew about what unfolded because he had a front-row seat and landed in the cell beside his boss. But Bast knew because Jarrett unloaded on him as a friend and hired him for his expertise. They’d shared a lot over the years, but the emotional dump was new, and Bast took it like he did everything else, without even one “I told you so.”
Jarrett figured after spending weeks living in Bast’s guest room because he couldn’t stand being in the bed he once shared with Becca, and having him to thank for being free, he owed his friend the truth. “She contacted me.”
“About?”
“Someone wiped out her black-ops team.�
��
Bast didn’t flinch. The guy was rock solid and not easy to ruffle. “Except for her.”
“Exactly.” And that part still didn’t make a lick of sense to Jarrett.
“Convenient. Is she blaming you?”
At one time Jarrett would have deserved the doubt. In those early days, he ran different kinds of clubs. He offered women and protection and didn’t ask questions, all under the umbrella of low-class strip clubs. He didn’t worry about the people who worked for him back then, except to make sure they weren’t screwing him.
But that was in a different city and another time. He was a different man those days. One who remembered what it meant to be hungry and not have a bed to sleep in each night. He fought like hell not to get dragged down there again, and those fights sometimes took him to nasty places.
Which led him to . . . “I notice you didn’t ask if I committed the Spectrum killings.”
Bast tipped his head as if in silent salute. “This isn’t my first day on the job.”
“She wants my help to figure out what happened and why.”
“Give her a few hundred dollars, tell her how lucky she is she didn’t fuck you over ten years ago, when you handled problems with more permanent solutions, and send her away.”
Typical Bast advice—rip the problem out of your life and get rid of it. If only it were that easy.
“Can’t do any of that,” Jarrett said.
“You mean you didn’t do that.” Bast’s body froze as his gaze toured the room. “Shit, Jarrett. Is she here?”
“As a lawyer, don’t you need plausible deniability or something?”
“Lawyer by training but a negotiator in fact. The guy who kept your ass out of prison and wherever else the pricks at the CIA planned to stash you.”
To Jarrett those skills were far more valuable than anything a litigator could have done for him in a courtroom. “Much appreciated, which is why I insisted on paying you despite your protests.”
Bast held up a finger. “At a significantly discounted friend rate.”
The comment sidetracked Jarrett even further. “That wasn’t full price?”
“You only got charged for actual expenses and partial staff time. My extremely high rate wasn’t included.”
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