Under the Wire: Bad Boys Undercover

by HelenKay Dimon

  “Are you scared?” That didn’t make much sense. With gun blazing she’d saved his life, and had been ordering him around for the last ten minutes.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Something in her tone . . . it was as if the air between them changed. “No?”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about at all.”

  17

  ONCE INSIDE, Cara stripped off her jacket then his. Then his insulated shirt underneath. She had him bare to the waist and still didn’t know whether to kiss him or shake him for getting injured again, which she knew made no sense since she was the one who wanted to go outside. He had her mind flopping from one option to the other.

  But the kiss definitely was going to happen. Kissing, touching . . . him inside her. All of it. She’d been thinking about him. Wanting and dreaming and regretting for so long.

  Up until a day ago she thought she’d made the right decision when she walked away, even though that likely meant a lonely future for her. She thought about him all the time, pictured him when she closed her eyes. Remembered how safe she felt when he wrapped his strong arms around her. How she loved to watch him sleep.

  Part of her assumed that eternal longing was the price she had to pay for ever letting herself be that vulnerable. The relationship might have been quick but he owned a piece of her whether they were together or not. That love she had been so sure would fade never did.

  The way he dropped everything to come find her made her ache more pronounced. He’d called out her name as he showed off that cocky walk she remembered so well. Backed up his confidence with action. Stepped in front of her and protected her again and again.

  She wanted him back then. Wanted him now. Was beginning to wonder if she’d always want him.

  Maybe the hormones and adrenaline mixed to steal her common sense. She didn’t care. She’d seen so much horror. Lived with fear until she vibrated from the force of it.

  Now she needed something for herself.

  First, she had to sew him up. Make him whole . . . or as close as possible. Nothing else mattered so long as he refused to let her help him.

  She rummaged through the bags, searching for what she needed. Dumped the medical supplies on his jacket on the ground then turned to him. “Lean against the wall.”

  “I thought you wanted to have sex.”

  “Health first.” As gently as possible, she cleaned the wound. To keep going she ignored the way he sucked in air at her touch. The faster she worked, the better this would be.

  “I’m trying to figure out if that’s sexy.”

  The roughness of his voice signaled pain. That had her slowing down, rethinking her plans. Now wasn’t the time to be selfish. “We better not.”

  He put his hand over hers and slowed her movements. “Are you saying that because of my side or because of something else? Because I can go right now. Don’t let a little wincing stop you.”

  Men. “I don’t want you to bleed out while my legs are wrapped around your waist.”

  He whistled. “That is a hell of a mental image.”

  She thought he’d like that one. Maybe it would take his mind off the poking as she stitched him up.

  As she worked she marveled at the lack of fat on his waist and how he didn’t make a sound. The sign of strength could be his way of saying he could have sex. She wasn’t sure.

  That meant she had to be the adult. “We’ll wait.”

  “But you’re saying it’s going to happen?”

  She wanted to deny it but the words refused to form in her brain. “We have a serious issue between us with danger afterburn.”

  “I hate when you say things like that.”

  “Right.” She couldn’t tear her gaze away. Her mind spun with the ways she could make this happen, if only for an hour. Work off extra energy, protect him, give them both a few minutes of fun. She needed all three, and getting there took some thinking and planning.

  He smiled as he shook his head. “You’re staring.”

  Her gaze toured over his scarred chest and down to his flat stomach. “You’re still the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.”

  “Did you hit your head?”

  Not just his body, which was hot damn impressive. The imperfect face with high cheekbones and a firm chin. Intelligent if a little too knowing eyes that mirrored all the pain he’d seen.

  Rather than destroy him or make him distrust people, he thrived on loyalty to his team. Strong, solid, and so secretive.

  He held a hand out to her and she went to him without even debating. Her fingers rested on his shoulders then slipped around his neck. When his lips touched hers, a series of tiny explosions went off inside her. His mouth pressed against hers, deepening and coaxing as she fell into his touch.

  They were a mess and hurt and still in danger. They stood in a cave with a mile of old emotionally charged baggage stacked between them. There were so many reasons not to drop into this abyss a second time. So many ways this could go wrong to the point where she couldn’t regain her footing again.

  But the kiss raged on. Their hands roamed over each other. Her body resting against his. The mouth . . . that tongue.

  After a minute of heated touches he broke the kiss and balanced his forehead against hers. “We need to think about this.”

  “Because you’re hurt.”

  “I’m capable.” He shook his head and his skin brushed over hers. “Willing and able, trust me.”

  He might be lying but she saw the green light and jumped on it. “Then stop talking.”

  She kissed him again. Dragged his head down and licked her tongue along the seam between his lips. Cradled his head as her mouth slid over his.

  When he broke away a second time his heavy breathing filled the air between them. “Are you going to regret this right after?”

  She reached for his belt, struggled to unclasp the buckle. “Are you going to talk the whole time?”

  He reached down and opened it with a simple flick of his wrist. “I’m serious.”

  Every choice she made impacted both of them. This self-assured man kept stopping. Not because he wanted to. No, she could feel his growing erection and the hammering of his heart under her hand. He needed this as much as she did.

  That itching deep in her soul. That scratch that never fully went away.

  She would make him understand.

  “I’ve never regretted one minute with you. Never.” She framed his head in her hands and stared into his eyes. “I need you to hear me this time. I mean it when I say that.”

  “But this is an adrenaline thing, right?”

  “I don’t know what it is.” And that was the truth. She hadn’t meant to say it and definitely didn’t want to feel the doubts rise, her heart and mind refusing to merge on one thought when it came to him. “And you’re killing the mood.”

  “Right.” He winked at her. “The condom is in the outside pocket of my backpack.”

  Of course it was. “You still carry one.”

  She dropped down and grabbed the packet. Instead of standing right back up, she crouched in front of him by his feet. From this angle she could see the bulge in his pants and rough rise and fall of his chest.

  He blew out a long haggard breath. “Tasha requires us to, as part of our go bag.”

  Cara slipped her palms up and down the outside of his legs along the material, loving the outline of every muscle. “I love her right now.”

  “Me, too.”

  She shifted to her knees and slowly lowered his zipper until his black boxer briefs peeked out. Her fingers skimmed over him, relearning every inch. Watching him grow under her palm.

  “Cara.” His fingers slid into her hair and held her close. “You’re killing me.”

  She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on him. Felt the heat burn through his underwear and against her lips. In a slow striptease, she tugged his pants down. Let them drop to his knees. Reaching under the elastic, she peeled the briefs over and off him. Sho
ved all the material out of her way.

  He whispered her name. The husky growl was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. It lured her in, spurred her on.

  With her hand wrapped around him, she licked her tongue across his tip. Felt the hard tremor move though him. The reaction had her wanting more. She sucked, taking him just inside her mouth. After a few passes of her lips, his hips started to buck.

  “Now, Cara.” He reached down with the condom in his hand.

  She had no idea how he got it out and ready, but when sex was the prize, men tended to perform miracles. Even with his crumbling control she wanted to string out the sensual torture. All that feminine power, enough to reduce a strong man to a shaking, begging mess. She loved this part of him. How he gave his body over to her. The trust.

  She rolled the condom on, taking her time and sliding her fingers up and down as he swore under his breath. Then she climbed up his body. Touched every inch. Rubbed her body against his to create a delicious friction. Stopped to kiss his exposed skin.

  When she got to his stomach, he pulled her up the rest of the way. His fingers wrapped in her hair and brought her mouth close to his.

  “Do you know how much I want you?” He whispered the question against her lips.

  Before she could answer, he kissed her. Holding her steady with one hand, he plundered her mouth. Over and over. Deeper and deeper.

  The other traveled down to her hip . . . then lower. She felt a tug and then her pants loosened around her waist. She gasped as his hand tunneled into her underwear. That finger found her again. Flicking and circling over her until her body turned to mush and she leaned into his touch.

  “Reid . . .” She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t draw in enough air. “Please.”

  Then his finger slipped inside her. In and out until she could feel her body dance to his rhythm. She was so ready for him. So wet and willing.

  His other hand snaked down her body and hooked under the back of her knee. He shoved her pants down then lifted her leg. Pulled it up and out of her pants before balancing it on his hip.

  She wanted to jump on him, wrap her legs around him and take him deep inside. Only his injury stopped her. But it didn’t stop him. He lifted her up until her tiptoes barely skimmed the floor.

  He pressed against her then. Slipped in just enough to send her heartbeat crashing in her chest. She grabbed onto his shoulders. Dug her nails into his skin. She thought she heard his name and realized she was the one chanting it.

  She shifted her body forward, pulling him in deeper. She held him and tugged on him, silently begging for him to thrust inside. His head dropped and he pressed a heated kiss on her throat. Then another. His tongue traveled over her as his body plunged in and out of hers.

  The mix of touching and tasting made her wild.

  She closed her eyes and let the need wash over her. Experienced rather than thought. Held him with every ounce of strength left in her muscles as her body stiffened and clenched. And he kept moving. She tightened her legs against him, pulled everything inside her tight until her muscles shook.

  He nibbled on her neck, nipping and kissing. Had her moving her head to give him greater access. When his hand slipped down and his finger pressed against her as his erection pushed one more time, her control broke. Breaths escaped her in deep pants. She closed her eyes and came. Let the pulses rumble through her.

  When his back slammed hard against the stone wall, she knew he’d lost it, too. His body shook as the orgasm punched through him. He grunted as he buried his face in her hair.

  The pushing and shaking continued for another minute, then her hand fell from his arm. Every muscle in her body relaxed as her bones turned to jelly. She stood there with his body anchoring her. Without his hold she would have slipped boneless to the floor.

  As the minutes ticked by and their bodies cooled, she waited for the regret to set in. But it didn’t happen. If anything, she wanted to cuddle against him and steal some of his heat.

  Then her mind flashed to his wound and she pulled back. Not the whole way but enough to look into his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Pretty fucking spectacular.”

  His eyes actually glowed. The satisfaction was right there to see. Not that she could blame him. Everything about that worked for her.

  “Did you learn that biting move in school?” That seemed new and she liked it.

  He looked around as if ready to jump back into his clothes. “Hardly.”

  And there it was. The cool hit of reality. She pulled back a bit more. Put a few inches between them even though she continued to hold on to his shoulders. “That’s what I remember.”

  He frowned. “Meaning?”

  “I asked you a question about your past and you shut down.” This time she stepped away from him. Reached around her feet for her pants and quickly dragged them up with her underwear bunched inside. “Typical.”

  He continued to lean against the wall, mostly naked. “Is that why you really left me? Because I didn’t want to play show and tell?”

  “You’re being a jerk again.” She picked up his shirt and handed it to him.

  He held it against his stomach but didn’t make a move to put it on. “I don’t like talking about my past because it sucked.”

  “You can’t have a relationship with someone if—”

  “We were engaged.” His yell bounced off the stone walls.

  “Okay, fine.” Her pants shifted sideways and the zipper landed in the wrong place, so she just let them rest undone on her hips. “I can’t be engaged to someone who won’t talk to me. Who hides their past from me.”

  “What part do you want to know?” His arms dropped to his sides and his shirt hit the floor again. “How many of my foster parents hit me? Or about the one who collected the check then rationed my food? Or are you more interested in life on the street once I ran away at fifteen?”

  Her heart stammered in her chest. “Fifteen?”

  “I survived, Cara. That’s the point. I made it through and found a career that suits me.” The strain of the conversation showed on his face. Tension pulled at his mouth.

  “One that puts you in constant danger.” She said the words but didn’t mean to take them down that road. She of all people, who had benefited from his skills over and over, understood that the world could be a crappy place. Men like him equalized the playing field. “Forget that. This isn’t about your work.”

  “What is it about?” He stood there, totally unconcerned about his nudity. No shame and not rushing to cover up. He verbally fought back, kept pushing.

  “This has always been about your past and how little you’ll open up to me. How I told you I was worried about us long-term and you didn’t care.”

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t care. It’s that compared to all I’ve seen, the worries didn’t . . .” He hissed. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “Didn’t seem like a big deal to me?” He winced. “Maybe I am a dick.”

  “You’re not.” But sometimes she wanted him to be so she didn’t have to play the role of the bad guy.

  “My parents died in a car crash and no one wanted the poor kid with the stutter.” He threw his arms out to the sides “Are you happy? Does that make sense and make you more willing to take a risk on me?”

  It made her furious at the system and sick for him. “That’s horrible. I want to punch every single member of your family.”

  “The guy in front of you—the one who doesn’t like crowds and is never going to be the star of the party—is a product of being left behind and unwanted.” The energy seemed to whoosh out of him then. His shoulders fell and for a second pain crossed his face. “I wish I could be someone else for you.”

  “Don’t say that.” She had to touch him then. She moved to him, ran her hands over his stomach and shoulders, trying to comfort him and not knowing how. “It’s not true. I don’t feel that way and you saying it makes me feel like shit.”

  “
I’m telling you what you want to know.”

  “I can’t have kids. The cancer treatments all those years ago had unexpected side effects and that was one.” The words shot out of her. She hadn’t planned them and they didn’t make sense in this context . . . except they kind of did. The information went to her issue about being overprotected.

  “Shit . . . are you sick now?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Good.” He nodded then stopped. “Wait, why do we use condoms?”

  “They protect against other things.” She eyed him up. “Remember the part about how we barely knew each other? Part of me wanting to talk more and discuss who we were—go on actual dates—months ago, was so that we could find out things like this. So we could make the decision together about what birth control, if any, we needed to use.”

  He nodded. “Smart.”

  Doubts gnawed inside her. “But you don’t have anything to say about the other thing?”

  “The cancer? Honestly, I don’t want to think about it at all.” His expression was pained. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She rushed to ease his severe frown. Skimmed a finger over it. “Really, Reid. It’s long gone.”

  He let out a haggard breath. “Thank God.”

  “But the kid part.” It was a test of sorts. An unfair one that she didn’t mean to give him, but the words were out and now she needed to know his reaction. After dealing with a lifetime of awkward comments and unending sympathy from family and well-meaning friends, she needed to know what he thought.

  “I’m sorry. Really, that’s a shitty break and I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with it.” His eyes softened then narrowed. “Is this something that defines you in some way? Are you having trouble dealing with the news?”

  It had stopped being news years ago. “Not anymore.”

  He took her hand and folded his over it. “You know that never would have mattered to me, right? We adopt. We have fifteen dogs. I don’t care. I loved you, not your ovaries.”

  The words washed over her. “No sympathy.”

  He froze. “What?”

  “No, it’s a good thing.” Weirdly, it was. She’d come to terms with her reality long ago.