Emotionally Compromised (Emotionally Compromised Series)

by Rosa, A.

  His eyebrows perk up at my words, and I take it as my cue to walk up to him. I crawl onto his lap. "I am going to let you ask about my scars. I want you to know my body and me. I want both to be honest, and for you to know. I am going to try for you." I can feel his erection under me, and I grin at the physical response I elicit in Jeremy.

  He flashes that pantie-dropping grin, and I realize that he is beyond excited. "You don't have to tell me anything you aren't ready for," he says, being the gentleman. His hands come around to cradle my behind.

  I kiss him chastely on the lips, and I can tell he is aching for more. "No, I want this. I want you to know me—all of me."

  Convinced that I am OK with it, Jeremy lifts me up and places me back down on the bed. He sits up on his knees for a moment, continuously devouring me with his eyes as he slips off his shirt, and then pulls off his jeans, tossing them on the floor. He is now only in his low-hanging boxer briefs. My eyes drag down Jeremy's lean, toned stomach, over his narrow hips, and at the wonderful V that forms at his waistband. My mouth goes dry.

  Jeremy always appreciates a fair playing field.

  I smile as he lies down next to me on his side. I am anxious and wanting. He takes my chin, tugging my lip free from my grasp, and turns my head to face him. It's forceful, but entirely hot. "Are you sure about this?"

  "Yes." I want to do this for him. I want to be a type of brave that I didn't know existed.

  "I can make them better." His tone is sexy, yet endearing. How does he do that?

  I look at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

  This time he shakes his head and starts the game. He begins with the obvious starting point, placing his index finger on the deep scar on my shoulder. "Tell me about this one."

  I hold back my flinch, but I can't help my reflexive intake of breath. My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip, and my body tenses as I try to be OK with it. I exhale my response. "Bullet wound, Dubai." All I can manage is the weapon and the location where it happened. I don't know if I can manage any more details.

  Jeremy, seemingly unfazed by my confession and content with the amount of info, leans down and kisses the old wound. He continues to pepper it with delicate kisses until my shoulders release a bit of tension. When I have relaxed to his satisfaction, he stops. I'm surprised at the remedy, and my body's reaction.

  I thought maybe I would have to guide Jeremy to each location of each scar, but he surprises me as he slides his hand over my breasts, across my abdomen, and then rubs his fingers over another deep wound over the lefts side of my ribs.

  My breath catches in my throat. It's unknown territory, which I have never explored with anyone. I should have known Jeremy would have taken note of each point of interest on my body.

  "What about this one?" Before I respond, he a perches over me, leaning his head over my torso, and begins kissing and licking at the wound. Goose bumps form at the erotic sensation, and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, noticing that my muscles are relaxing with each stroke of his tongue.

  "Knife. Romania."

  He lifts up his head, peeking at me through his lashes. He smiles when he notices I am trying not to squirm. He drags his hand across my stomach to the opposite side of my body, and strums his fingers over a bruise on my hipbone.

  I hum, and hold back a smile as I look down at him. He is ready to pounce on the wound with his lips. "You're not gonna like that one. That one is from sparring with Derek." I bite back my sly smirk.

  He growls his displeasure at the mention of Derek, but it's playful as he nips this time, and nibbles at the bruise, showing his distaste. It should sting the healing wound, but instead, it sends delicious tingles up my spine. He continues to lick and bite at the bruise, and I cannot contain my moan. I claw at the sheets, wanting him to kiss me everywhere.

  Another satisfied grin appears, and he continues. This time he places kisses over my stomach, dipping his tongue in my navel, then kisses over my sex and down my thigh to another prominent bruise.

  I have to scrunch my eyes closed to gain control of my aroused body. He licks, kisses, and nips at my inner thigh. I speak, but feel out of breath. "Not so impressive. I walked into your kitchen table when you weren't looking."

  He lets out a laugh, and the rush of warm breath against that sensitive area of my skin makes my body feel as if it were on fire.

  At the sound of another moan, Jeremy begins his sweet, slow ascent up my body as he kisses his path over my stomach, spending more time on my breasts, and then finally reaching my lips. I notice my body is more relaxed than its ever been. Who knew Jeremy's lips were a cure for my personal cancer?

  My hand comes up to twist in Jeremy's hair, anchoring his lips to mine. "I need you."

  Jeremy hums his pleasure. "And I need you. I love when you finally let yourself be vulnerable around me. I can't get enough of it." He kisses me hard and his breathing accelerates. "You. Are. So. Beautiful."

  I smile but groan. I just don't think it's true.

  He pulls away to look at me, and my eyebrows furrow.

  He slides his hand over my breasts, up my neck, and to my face to rub at the V that has formed between my brows. "You're beautiful and you know it."

  I roll my eyes. I feel like I am being treated like a child, but I can't help my bashful smile. "How is it you can make me feel so fragile sometimes?"

  He grins, his eyes reflecting his happiness in their glittering depths. "Maybe it's because I am crazy about you."

  I can't contain myself any longer. I lean up, grabbing his face and forcing him to my lips. I open his mouth, letting our tongues tangle around one another, and he presses his body into mine.

  It is obvious that this conversation is officially over.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Hello & Goodbye

  MARCUS GIBBS

  As I insert my ID card into the slot on the wall, the familiar clearance beep sounds, unlocking the door to my lab. I realize my lips are beyond chapped, cracking at any movement of my lips. I keep my eyes on the floor as I robotically begin my day. This is an average Thursday morning, and the only thing on my agenda as of right now is to get myself a glass of water.

  I rub at the skin under my chin, still aching to feel like I'm not coming down with the flu—but it isn't the flu. The drip at the back of my throat is constant, like a draining of streaming numbness. It makes my throat feel coated and phlegmy, though I can't seem to scratch it to subdue the numbing sensation. It's one of the many repercussions of doing a drug like cocaine.

  I push through my lab door, rubbing my nose out of habit. The moment the door closes behind me, I hear an unfamiliar sound. The clicking of what I assume is ... high heels?

  My head shoots up, and I lock eyes with an attractive woman in maybe her early thirties. She's wearing skin-tight, somewhat business-appropriate attire. Her black dress shirt hugs her curves, and is open at the top, revealing her cleavage. It is tucked into a sleek, black pencil skirt that pulls one's eyes down her long, slender legs to the skin above her knees. However, the most distracting item in the outfit is her bright red heels.

  "You must be Marcus Gibbs. They didn't tell me you were so attractive." The voice is like a smooth, warm cup of hot-buttered rum on a cold, crisp morning. It's entrancing.

  My eyes shoot to hers. They are sharp and a piercing black, complementing her dark, straight hair. Her naturally red lips are curled upward, but for some reason, her smile reminds me of the Grinch's. I immediately distrust her but I can't deny her beauty. Her skin is a flawless mocha, and displayed by her high cheekbones. The sight of her makes my throat itchier than it was before. She makes me uneasy, and I'm unsure if I want to know why.

  "Excuse me? How did you get in here?"

  She bares her pearly white grin, but it's a deadly smile. I see her eyes heat. "Oh, I have my ways." What the hell does that mean?

  She slinks toward me with complete confidence, and I freeze to the spot by the strange temptress. She walks up to me, and adjusts my co
llar with her manicured hands while keeping her onyx eyes locked with mine. Her nails are as sharp and red as her pointed red heels. I worry for a moment that she might claw my face off if I say the wrong thing, but another part of me thinks I might not mind.

  I focus on my breathing rather than forming words. Her perfume is thick and musky, and I worry that it will never leave my nose.

  When she is done adjusting my collar, she takes a small, deliberate step back, and leans back against the counter to give me a good once-over. "Mr. Gibbs, I am Adessa Moradi. Luc Olivier might have mentioned me."

  I run my hand through my hair, already overwhelmed by the woman. Her accent is obvious when she pronounces her name, and I realize who she might be.

  "Luc never mentioned you, unless you are the person who is supposed to check up on me." I thought she would be a dude.

  She flashes me another grin. "Yes. So, he did mention me."

  I wouldn't say that, but whatever.

  Her open shirt is distracting. My dick twitches at the thought. How long has it been since I last had sex?

  As if she can read my thoughts, she runs her tongue over her white teeth. My face heats like a boy in school caught with a boner. Get a grip, Gibbs.

  "So, Miss Moradi, is it? How can I help you, then? I was expecting you tomorrow." I'm anxious to get out of her overwhelming presence. I can show her my batch, tell her things are going as planned, and then maybe she will be on her fucking way.

  "All in good time, Mr. Gibbs." She lifts her slender fingers to my face, touches my nose, and rubs something away like you would for a small child who had dirt on his face. I must have had some snow left on my face from this morning. My face heats again, and my eyes go wide at her maneuver. Her rose lips twist as she whispers, "Let's keep that type of secret a secret, shall we?" Her obvious jab at my drug habit has me squirming, and I get the sinking feeling that I am at her whim. I gulp. "I can't tell if you're a man of few words or not, but for now, I like it. Show me where you live."

  "W-where I live? Why?"

  She shrugs as if the inquiry is preposterous. "I'd like to partake in some extra curricular activities while in town." She rubs at my nose once more. "I was assured you'd show me a good time."

  Her accent isn't as easy to place as her Iranian name, but it drips with an educated British tone.

  Her smile slips as if she is getting impatient.

  "W-what about the product?" Doesn't she want to get down to business?

  She rolls her eyes, and I wonder if she might throw a tantrum. "Mr. Gibbs, I have been traveling an awful long time, and would like you to take me to your place. It will benefit both of us, trust me."

  JEREMY HUNT

  Alex is wrapped around me like a child recovering from a night of thunderstorms, and I can't help but cherish it as I listen to the quiet humming of her breath against my chest. I run my thumb down her arm, wondering what time it is. I am not ready to board that plane and head back to the chaos. I had spent most of my night exploring every inch of this mysterious girl's body, asking anything and everything I wanted, and I've realized that I've only managed to uncover the tip of the iceberg that is Agent Alex Turner. How can one girl feel like such a whodunit? Each story, scar, or word she slips in is simply another clue to another path of her life. Will I ever have the time to figure her out?

  After having a taste of what being thousands of miles away feels like, I've decided I am taking Alex away after all this is solved. I will do whatever it takes to whisk her away where we have no telephone reception, Wi-Fi, hell, somewhere mail can't even be delivered. I want to give us the opportunity our relationship deserves, and if I have the means, then why not?

  She stirs in my grasp, and her hazel eyes glow gold as they look up at me.

  "Morning," she squeaks.

  I lean down and press my lips to hers. She accepts them willingly, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  As if sensing my desperation to savor these moments, she pulls away, her eyes searching mine. "Jeremy, what's wrong?"

  I smile and worry that she is too good at reading my mind. How am I supposed to keep anything from her? Not that I should, but a man needs his moments of emotional secrecy, right?

  "I don't want to leave," I confess.

  "It will be fine. It's almost over. We are about to reach the climax." I know she's talking about the case and catching Marcus, but her eyes heat seductively. Sometimes I think God put this creature on this Earth for me.

  To emphasize that she has decided the conversation is over, she places a chaste kiss at the corner of my mouth and slips out of bed. I watch her naked body slink into the bathroom for a shower. I debate whether to get up and join her.

  Who am I kidding? I practically scurry off the bed to follow her.

  She owns me, and that is dangerous.

  ALEX TURNER

  I watch Jeremy say his final goodbye to his dad. I swear we have said bye at least five times now. I know I have received at least three hugs from the man, but I watch, hiding my smirk.

  Jeremy shakes his father's hand and says, "I'll be back soon. I'm glad we got to talking about everything."

  "Of course, son. Just be safe. I have approved clearance for Miss Turner and her team to take anything they need, so expect a few memos coming your way. You will probably have to sign off on clearance into any of the private labs."

  "All right, Dad." Jeremy is about to walk away but he whips back around. "I forgot to tell you something."

  "What's that, Jeremy?"

  "Has Marcus called?" I can see Jeremy's eyes frost over at the mention.

  William rubs at his temples, and peers over at me as if he might be in trouble. "Marcus did call yesterday evening, but I didn't answer. I should have mentioned it."

  I smile. I am not in the business of scolding, but he should notify me of things like that.

  "He's calling to check up on you. I can't believe it slipped my mind. I had to tell Marcus you were sick again." I notice Jeremy's words catch in his throat, as if even now he hates having to do it, but he pulls himself together. "Just humor him for now. He was pretty mad at me for something." Jeremy can't help darting his eyes to me. "And I had to convince him to let it go, so I lied. I told him you were sick, and he kind of went into a panic. So if he calls, go along with it."

  William's lips are set into a hard line now, his distaste for the topic obvious. Cancer is not a joking matter. "Fine. I will," his father snaps in a brusque, icy tone. I can see where Jeremy gets it.

  I watch father and son tense, and I wish we weren't leaving on such a sorrowful note. It's not up to me to save the mood, is it? However, I need to make this right.

  I am not good at these situations. I don't have a family to manage, so how can I manage Jeremy's? Doing the only thing I know how, I step between the men, hugging William one last time. His shoulders are tense. "Goodbye, sir." I place a sweet kiss on his stubbly cheek. "It was a pleasure." My face heats up, but I am doing this for Jeremy, whose eyes blast into me like an arctic storm.

  William's body releases the tension, and I see his warm grin again. "Just call me William. None of that sir crap anymore." He places a fatherly kiss on my forehead.

  My mouth goes dry, and my eyes widen in surprise at the endearing return from William. Speechless, I shrug. I turn back to Jeremy, who has a smile playing on his lips. He takes my hand and pulls me to the waiting car.

  As we slip inside the vehicle, I recognize the oddly familiar sense of warmth from the other night swelling from within my gut.

  The car begins its journey to the airport. Jeremy smiles as he grabs the hand sitting on my lap, and brings it to his lips, kissing my fingers. "Thank you." It's sincere and wonderful.

  I decide in that moment that this is my favorite Jeremy smile.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Seduction & Surveillance

  MARCUS GIBBS

  I watch Adessa do a line off my coffee table, and I keep running over how I ended up in this position in my hea
d. I know I'd better do what she says, because at this point, I don't know what the consequences will be if I choose otherwise.

  "Tell me about yourself, Marcus," she asks, as if I am her jester and must entertain her—though her smile is sweeter and more tempting than any tyrant I've read about. Since when are we on a first name basis?

  "There isn't much to know." I scratch the back of my head. I don't want to talk about me. "What about you? All I know is your name."

  Her face lights up. She offers me my drugs, handing off my worn straw. This girl is a brat. I take it from her grasp, debating whether it's better to keep a clear head around this one, but her penetrating stare tells me I don't have a choice.

  She rubs the corners of her mouth, and I can see the shift in her demeanor as the drugs seep into her spine and her body relaxes. Her eyes heat as they bore into mine. I don't know what I am in for.

  "Well, obviously you know why I am here. My father likes to keep me busy with the transportation of important items. Customs rarely checks a pretty woman." Her smile was made for the devil as she bats her long lashes.

  She watches me lean over my table and sweep over the goods, inhaling the sweet powder. I get a burning itch in my nose and I hope I don't bleed everywhere again. I heave in another breath, recounting her words. "Your father? Who is your father?"

  She rolls her eyes like a spoiled teenage girl. "Don't you know anything? Didn't Luc tell you who I am, and who I work for?"

  I shake my head, rubbing my nose, checking for blood. "Luc doesn't tell me jack shit," I sneer.

  She raises her eyebrows at my obvious dislike for the man. "I don't like that dirty slob either. He is always trying to put his hands on me. If I told my father, he would end that fucker."

  Her foul attitude makes her a little more human, and I don't know if it is the drugs or what, but it makes me want to like her. Although, her father seems to be a deadly man with a serious case of don't fuck with me.