“Are you asking to try something specific?”
Something dark fell over his face. “I don’t have to.”
She sighed inside but kept it hidden there. At least he was consistent. He gave an inch and showed her some softness then quickly slammed the gate shut again. “Because you own me?”
“Your body. Temporarily, yes.” The way he slid his hand over her and kissed along her jaw contrasted with his verbal shots.
Words kicked around in her head and she fought the urge to say them. Any sense that she didn’t feel his revenge and he would balk. But still, a part of her wanted to know . . . “What if I told you I wanted something else?”
His shoulders stiffened. “I’d remind you of our deal.”
“Right.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
“Forget it.” She shimmied up his body, pressing tight against his and ending with her mouth kissing his chest. “The answer is yes.”
With his hands on her face, he pulled her head up and kissed her until her body shook. Her hands teased his shoulders and hair. Cutting through his words, she sunk into the trembling excitement of having him take charge.
He lifted his head without moving his palms from her cheeks. “Get on your back.”
“What?”
“You can lie down or I can put you how I want you.”
She didn’t know what came next and didn’t care so long as he took her. With her insides bouncing, she scrambled off her knees and dropped back against the mattress. The move put her body next to his with her feet flat on the mattress near his head.
He didn’t let the position go to waste. With a quick grab of the knob to the nightstand drawer, he opened it and pulled out a condom. Then he was back, his body touching hers with his hand wrapped around her ankle, keeping the connection.
Before she could steel her body for the pleasure, his fingers danced up the inside of her thigh. He pushed her legs wide open as he kicked off the sheet and crawled between her knees. A kiss trailed up the inside of one leg until he reached the fleshy part of her thigh.
“I want to go in deep.” The rough words rumbled against her bare skin and skidded across her senses.
She had to grab the sheets underneath her, ball them in her fists, to fight off the tension already spiraling through her. “Yes.”
“You won’t be able to control the fucking and I won’t hold back,” he said in between kisses. “You’ll take every last inch.”
“Jarrett, please.” She wasn’t sure if she said the plea out loud or only in her head, but she felt it in every cell.
He licked a long line over her skin, down farther until it swept over her. “What do you want me to do to you, Rebecca?”
She jerked at the slick contact against her sensitive flesh. “Fuck me now.”
Two fingers disappeared inside her. They thumped against her as he plunged and withdrew in a steady rhythm.
Barely able to move but so desperate to feel his cock inside her, she raised her head and saw her wetness glistening on his fingers. Still he thrust his fingers inside her. In and out with his thumb flicking over her clit every time her hips lifted. Her insides quivered and her thighs shook. Fire burned through her as her skin heated and she feared she’d implode.
“You’re soaking wet.”
Gulping in air, she tried to answer him. “For you.”
She hovered on the edge. If she could press her legs together tight enough, she’d come, but his shoulders blocked her and the rubbing of his thumb over her clit stopped every time she got close.
He bent down and sucked on her clit. Her gasp filled the room as her vision went dark.
His finger replaced his mouth when he sat back on his heels again. “I decide how I fuck you.”
She would let him do anything, touch anything, try anything. “Yes. God, yes.”
Both hands were on her now. Fingers rubbed her thigh as his other hand kept up the pulsing beat inside her. Need swamped her and she lifted her head again, thinking to bring him in for a blinding kiss, but his concentration centered on her clit and the pump of her hips in time with his presses.
“Your body belongs to me.”
“Jarrett . . .” The rest of the words caught in her throat. She did and he knew it, but she had to hold something back.
“Say it.”
Before she could give in, he pulled his fingers out of her. Those small inner muscles clenched in frustration and her lower half lifted off the mattress. She tried to inch closer, but he clamped his hands on her legs and held her still.
Rational thought fled. If he wanted begging, she’d beg. “Please fuck me.”
A warm breath blew over her wetness, making her twitch and squirm. “You know what I want to hear. Give it to me and I’ll let you come.”
“Yes.” She chanted the word and didn’t stop until his fingers plunged inside her again.
“All of it.”
She forced her eyes to stay open as she stared up at him. “My body is yours.”
“Good girl.” He bent over her once more and that talented tongue swirled over her. “Are you sure you’re ready for me?”
“Yes.” She fought the need to shift and moan. Her body rocked as the tension ramped up inside her.
He pulled away again and she almost screamed. She might have if she had any breath left in her body. Sweat dampened her hair and broke out on her chest.
Just when she found the voice to demand he enter her, he shifted. He lifted one of her legs and pushed her thigh back against her chest. He somehow got the condom on without her noticing and now he pushed into her with one long demanding stroke.
Her sensitive tissues felt raw. The pleasure was so intense her mouth dropped open. And he kept moving. He plunged inside her, pushing until he filled her and every nerve burst to life.
The position meant she couldn’t hold back or control his thrusts. He was in control. Total control. Going as deep as promised as he wedged her foot against his shoulder. Satisfaction filled his expression as he focused on the push and pull of his cock inside her.
She was so primed, so ready for his entrance, that it didn’t take much for her body to tighten. When he stopped to grind his lower body against hers, the world exploded. The orgasm rocked through her. Her body bucked and her mind went blank as her body kept lifting off the bed to get closer to his. She tried to breathe as every part of her tingled.
His pace picked up and his breathing grew heavy and she knew his orgasm was about to hit him. When it finally did, all she could do was drop her hands next to her head on the pillow and watch his shoulders stiffen.
Then a thought floated through her mind: he was right, she was his.
• • •
Becca gave up on sleep somewhere around five and headed for the shower. Jarrett had already slipped off around four. Later than usual, but he cut out just as he had night after night. Screw-and-run seemed to be his MO these days. They had sex, he picked a fight, they had sex again, but this time with an intensity that knocked her near unconscious, then he walked away to sleep alone. This time he’d stopped to turn off the light on his way out.
Early this morning she snuck out to see what he did once he left the bed. The answer wasn’t all that original or difficult to figure out. He beelined for his bedroom where the door remained closed for the rest of the night.
She’d debated busting in on him. Even walked across the great room several times with that very intention in mind. But she refused to beg. Forcing him to kiss her, going to him on his terms while obeying his no-clothing rule, all cost her enough. So, she’d stayed in bed. Pulled the covers over her and settled in their softness. She expected to drift off to sleep, but it never came. The water revived her but not by much.
When she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, because she would be damned if she’d walk
around naked for him at all from now on, she spied the stacks on the bed. Flicking the bedroom light on, she froze. For a second she didn’t know what she was seeing but then she did.
The pile on the left consisted of her sneakers, along with underwear, running shorts and a bra. The one on the right was nothing more than two of his dress shirts, her preferred outfit these days.
She didn’t know what it meant, but it meant something.
With a shaky hand, she picked up the blue shirt on top and brought it to her nose. Inhaling deeply, she searched for the scent of his soap. The combination she couldn’t identify by ingredient but associated only with him. It lingered in the morning long after he was gone. It wrapped around her when she slipped on the shirts he’d worn and abandoned.
These were clean and fresh. His but not intimately him.
She still wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, but she now knew she needed more than his help. And this move on his part was a start.
TWELVE
Jarrett sat in the second-floor conference room and stared at the information spread out in front of him and highlighted on the three large monitors lining the wall. This room once served as a place for him to conduct business meetings, leaving his downstairs office private. But then Elijah moved in and it became a command center.
Jarrett looked at all the photos and notes and still didn’t know what the point of it was. Elijah had showed up two months ago, begging to be heard. Crawled right up to the same door Becca used. For his trouble, Elijah got a bullet in the shoulder. Jarrett would have done more damage if Wade hadn’t stepped in with worries about new criminal charges.
When Becca pretended to get caught, even though she all but knocked on the door, Jarrett ushered her inside. The reason for the different treatment wasn’t a mystery. He used all sorts of excuses, trying to trick his brain into believing inviting her in was about revenge and cold fucking. But he knew the truth.
Despite the lies, despite handing him over to the feds and tearing his life apart. Despite everything and regardless of the passage of time and the festering anger, he loved her. Right down to the dark lonely place in his soul. And it fucking sucked.
He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to call up what little common sense he had left. What he felt for her made him vulnerable and stupid. He could lose everything and he doubted he’d fully recover a second time.
He’d just closed his eyes when the alarm dinged and the door opened. He sat up in time to see Elijah walk in looking six-feet-two-inches of furious. But that wasn’t new. He’d been sporting a frown for days and Jarrett knew Becca was the reason.
“What are you doing?” Elijah nodded at the table top as he asked.
The snapping, the questioning—Jarrett was damn sick of all of it. “Sitting in a chair I paid for, in a building I own.”
“It was a simple question.”
Jarrett didn’t get lured in by that one. Nothing had ever been easy or straightforward with this man. He’d worked as an assassin on the government payroll. Trained and paid for by the CIA and used for its purposes. He retrieved data, did whatever he had to do to collect information and killed on demand. The only reason he lived at the club now was because he turned over information that helped Bast negotiate Jarrett’s safety.
After all, the public would not take kindly to a tape of a CIA operative talking about how he got an order from above to frame an American citizen in order to bribe him for information. The CIA could deny it and claim Elijah’s tape was a fake, but the people in charge wouldn’t want even a whiff of the allegations out there. Combined with the certain defense weapon intel from a former member now relocated to Spain, it helped buy Jarrett’s freedom and hold back a second round of blackmail. So far.
That meant, as much as Jarrett hated to admit it, he owed Elijah something. Jarrett had repaid that debt in the form of room and board and a level of security while Elijah investigated who lied to him about the real reason behind the arrest at the club months ago. The way Elijah saw it he’d been used and double-crossed. That seemed to piss him off more than the attempts to kill him and wipe his existence from every database. In reality, Elijah looked for many of the same pieces Becca did. Jarrett decided just that morning to give them to her. Maybe if Elijah knew Becca worked on the same puzzle, he’d have more incentive to get the job done and get them all out from under this weight.
Jarrett jumped right in, expecting blowback. “We need to reconfigure the system to add a user but limit internal access to protect your identity and work.”
“Who?”
“Just do it.”
Elijah crossed his arms over his chest. “Going to tell me why?”
The man hadn’t led his team, but he was born to the task. That made dealing with him a total pain in the ass for Jarrett. “I’m not sure why you think you’re in charge here or entitled to explanations.”
“Are you telling me I don’t have a legitimate reason to know?” Elijah pulled out the chair across from Jarrett.
Jarrett couldn’t argue with that. “To give Becca access.”
Elijah froze in the act of sitting. “What the fuck are you thinking?”
Here we go. “That this is my building, my computer, my resources, and you’re living here on my good graces.”
“I handed you the information you needed to get out from under the criminal charges.” Elijah dropped down. “Have you forgotten that already?”
“You gave me leverage. In return, I’ve given you cover, helped you fake your death and have not once unleashed the unholy hell you deserve for dragging me into your bullshit.”
With his elbows on the table, Elijah leaned in. His voice didn’t rise above a hoarse whisper. “I don’t trust her.”
“I don’t trust either of you.” And that was the truth. Becca and Elijah—hell, the whole CIA crowd—lied for a living. They got paid to engage in subterfuge. Becca only crossed his path because she showed up claiming to work for a satellite company, and he ignored her words and any potential alarm signals in favor of luring her into bed.
Looked like that joke was on him.
“After everything you still think I’m the problem?” Elijah asked with a voice filled with shock.
“Possibly.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“You’ll understand why I’m skeptical of most everything you say.” Which was why Wade was supposed to be watching Elijah and why Jarrett double-checked every move Elijah made.
The locks and security codes that kept intruders out also let Jarrett track everyone’s movements. He didn’t care what Wade did with his private life, except to worry he’d made a bad choice throwing in with Elijah, but Elijah was on Jarrett’s personal watch list.
Elijah flattened his hands against the tabletop. “I’m not the one you need to worry about here, and you know it.”
“Find a new topic.”
“You’re the one upstairs fucking her.” Elijah threw out his hand. “Letting her work her way into your head.”
Jarrett slowly rose to his feet. His legs hit the chair with enough force to send it spinning behind him. “This is your last warning. One more word about Becca, and you’re on the street. You can explain to Natalie and her crowd why you’re still alive and take your chances on staying that way.”
“You care about Becca that much?”
“Just follow the advice.”
Elijah slumped back in his seat. “You are playing games with my life.”
The words mirrored the ones Becca had said. The same tremor of worry carried in Elijah’s voice as had in hers. With anyone else, Jarrett would write the comments off as overly dramatic. But Becca and Elijah knew nasty people. Both enemies and friends could be after them.
Which brought Jarrett back to the point. “The two of you are looking for the same thing. Underneath it all, you both want to know who set
up Spectrum for termination and why, and find a way off the hit list.”
“Unless she is the one at the bottom of it all. She could be the one who wrote the hit list.”
Jarrett wanted to believe that possibility because then he could hold on to his anger, but the theory fell apart every time he mentally walked through it. While this whole “I need to be in the club” thing could be one more assignment for Becca, he doubted that was the case. There was no reason for her to delay or win him over this time around. The longer she lingered, the harder it would be for her to get the jump on him, if that was the plan.
She’d had ample opportunity to remove him and search for his files. If she was on an information hunt or looking for Elijah, she could have gone on a rampage or at least be working on a way to get around his security system. As an expert, she could find a way or turn a weapon on him. He knew that much. More important to him, every time he climbed on top of her, she could have plunged a knife in his back. She didn’t, which was why he decided to open the information to her now.
As far as he could tell, except for a case of restlessness and balking at his nudity requirement, she wasn’t fighting being confined. Part of him wondered how long that would last and, trust or not, dreaded the day she’d walk out of his life again.
The constant battle between being so angry and wanting her so much robbed him of sleep and good sense. Maybe Bast and Wade were right. Maybe he should let her be someone else’s problem, if for no other reason than to spare him from the inevitable gut shot to come.
At the very least, he could step out of the battle. “I should put you two in a room, let you hash out whatever pissing match you have and then put you both to work finding a solution.”
Elijah dropped his head in his hands. His fingers massaged his skull as he sat there. A minute passed before he looked up again. “Tell me why her.”
Jarrett wished he fucking knew. There had been other women and plenty of great sex over the years. None of that compared to being with her. “We’re not discussing my private life.”
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