The Dom Who Loved Me (Masters and Mercenaries)

by Lexi Blake

  Sean angled his body down, forcing her to take more of his weight. It felt right to be inside of Grace, as though some odd piece of himself had just fallen into place. He held nothing back. He was savage in his need. He pounded into her. Her breathy moans told him she didn’t mind at all. When he felt the shiver at the base of his spine that told him he was about to go off like a rocket, he let one of her legs go so he could rub her clit. He ran his thumb over that sensitive bit of flesh and watched Grace come. It was a beautiful thing. Her eyes got wide and her mouth opened to emit a soft cry as the little muscles of her pussy suddenly bore down on his cock.

  Sean let his head fall back. She’d been taken care of. Now was his selfish time. He thrust in again and again as the semen jetted out of his body in a wave of relief. He ground himself against her so she milked every last drop out of him. When he was finally finished, he collapsed on top of her. He loved the softness of her skin rubbing against his. Her arms wound around him, and her fingers found his hair. He buried his face in her breasts, perfectly content to spend the rest of the night there.

  * * * *

  There was a big gorgeous hunk of man in her kitchen, and he wasn’t waiting on her to feed him. She stared at him for a moment, the previous evening’s events washing over her, making her flush all over again. It had been perfect. She’d never felt closer to anyone as she’d felt to Sean when she’d submitted to him. A little wave of guilt threatened. She pushed it back. She’d loved her husband. She’d been faithful, but he was gone. She deserved a little bit of happiness.

  Grace stepped out of the bedroom after carefully preparing herself for the day. Sean stood at the stove wearing nothing but his trousers. Her small skillet was in his hands and he flipped whatever was in it with the skill of someone featured on the Food Network.

  “Good morning.” His smile made her melt a little. “I made coffee.” He gestured toward the coffee pot where he’d already placed a mug for her use.

  Grace was grateful for the distraction. She poured a cup and wondered what the hell had come over her last night. She’d had some serious sex with a man who liked to dominate his lovers. She’d so enjoyed being beneath him, submitting to him. She’d thrown herself into bed with a man who had to be ten years younger than she was.

  “How old are you?” The question was out of her mouth before she could think twice.

  He slid an omelet onto a plate and turned to her. “Is that what you’re worrying about this morning?”

  “I’m not worrying. I’m just curious.”

  His dark blond hair looked so much longer now that it wasn’t slicked back. It fell over his eyes and curled around his ears. His eyes narrowed. “I thought we decided you wouldn’t lie to me anymore.” He moved to the table and set the plate down. “I’m thirty-two. And you’re hardly Mrs. Robinson. The only person who will make a big deal out of our slight age difference is you.”

  Grace doubted that. She was forty with two grown kids. Sean was just getting started in life. Grace eased into the chair at her breakfast table and took a sip of coffee. He’d made it perfectly, and the omelet was fluffy. There was also whole wheat toast with butter and raspberry jam.

  “I had to make do.” He sat down across from her as though it was something they did every day. “You’re pantry is nearly empty. I won’t even go into your fridge.”

  His easy manner settled something inside her. She had worried he would hurry out the door this morning. A part of her had said it would be for the best. She hadn’t realized just how deeply she’d hoped it wasn’t true until she’d seen him standing at the stove. “Well, it’s just me, you know. It’s hard to cook for one.”

  “I don’t have a single meeting scheduled today.” He said with a great tone of relief. “I think I’ll go shopping. There’s a Coq au Vin recipe I’ve been wanting to try. Mind being my guinea pig?”

  Her breath caught. “You want to have dinner tonight?”

  “Yes. I thought it would be nice. I thought now that I’ve allowed you to seduce me, you might think about having mercy on a man and condescend to date me.” His smile faded. “Unless you were planning on a one-night stand.”

  “I wasn’t planning anything. I just didn’t know if you would want to see me again.”

  His hand came across the little table. “I told you I was crazy about you. I want to see you, and it has nothing to do with that contract I’m negotiating with your idiot boss.”

  She ignored the comment about her boss. He was an idiot, but she was far too loyal to vocally agree. She let her fingers entwine with his, loving the way her skin practically hummed where he touched her. It felt so right to touch him. “I would love to see you again tonight. How long are you going to be in town?”

  His fingers tightened on hers just a fraction, then he let go and sat back. “Uh, I guess another week or so. I should have everything tied up by then.” His mouth tightened as he seemed to think about the situation. “Maybe it will take longer. I’m meeting with people other than Wright. And even then, I would have to come back on a regular basis.”

  A week. She had a whole week with him. Grace didn’t fool herself. She couldn’t keep someone like Sean forever, whether she wanted to or not. It was for the best. She could hardly see him being a step-father to her sons. And why not? Why did she have to choose someone based on their suitability for her adult children? So what, that defiant inner voice said, if her boys didn’t like Sean? She’d certainly not cared for a couple of their girlfriends. Grace took a bite of omelet. It was heavenly, like the man who had made it. If she only had a week with him, she wanted to make the most of it.

  “Why don’t you stay here with me?” She held her breath, waiting for him to reject her.

  His blue eyes danced with mirth. “Instead of my crappy hotel room? Hmm. That is an interesting proposition. I have to think about it. Let’s see, the hotel room has a mini bar where I can pay ten bucks for a coke, a crappy shower that doesn’t work half the time, and no HBO. This is also the place where the next door neighbors blast mariachi music at four o’clock in the morning. It could be really hard to leave such comfort. What have you got here to tempt me?”

  She thought about last night. She thought about swimming with Sean again, though this time, he would be naked, too. It was an experience she didn’t want to miss. “Mermaids.”

  His smile was sultry, and she knew he was remembering the night before, too. “Naked ones at that. Mermaids definitely win, little one. Do you have a spare key? I’ll get my stuff from the hotel and then stock up your pantry. I promise to be a perfect house guest. I’ll even do the cooking. I should warn you, I’m not that good at cleaning, though.”

  “I think I can handle it.” If his dinner was as good as his breakfast, she would clean all night long.

  Twenty minutes later, she hummed as she parked her hybrid and began the walk toward her building. The night before with Sean was playing through her mind. She had a lover, and he was magnificent.

  The wind whipped through the streets of downtown Fort Worth forcing Grace to hold onto her black skirt for dear life. The wind was dry and hot like the blast from a furnace. It raced through the tall buildings playing some natural version of pinball. Up ahead, Grace saw the doors to her building open, and Evan Parnell stalked out. His face was bunched up against the bright light of day. He scowled at anyone who dared to look upon him in a friendly way.

  What was going on? He had been in the office every day for the past month, bugging Matt and making a general nuisance of himself. His very presence in the office was enough to set people on edge. He couldn’t have come back for another check. He was paid monthly, and she’d written his check for the month. Parnell looked up and down the street, but seemingly took no note of her. He was carrying a stack of papers. Parnell hadn’t joined the digital age. She’d heard him saying one time that computers and PDAs could only get a man in trouble.

  Another blast of wind whipped up just as an old van pulled up to the curb. It was dingy and
dirty with tinted windows. The driver’s side window was open, and Grace could see a dark-haired woman in the seat. She was frowning, her mouth turned down and her brows in a V, as she stopped the van. She was somewhat pretty, her beauty marred by the disdainful expression on her face. Parnell slid open the back door and hopped in. Grace was slightly shocked. She’d never seen Parnell with a woman before. This one was slender and much younger than him.

  Grace watched as a single slip of paper got hoisted by the wind, up and out of the stack Parnell held onto. The van drove off. Grace chased after that piece of paper, finally catching it with the toe of her d’Orsay pumps. She recognized the paper. She’d ordered it herself. It was Matt’s stationary.

  It was a series of numbers and a single address. 2201 Mount Dale Ave. No city, or post code, just the address written in a masculine hand. She thought about putting it away to give to Parnell the next time he came in and quickly shelved the idea. Maybe it was the fact that she’d been brave enough to reach out and take what she had wanted last night that made her more curious, but she knew something was wrong with Parnell. She also knew that Matt wouldn’t admit if he was in trouble. It was becoming clear to her that if she was going to find out what was going on between her boss and that jerk, she would have to investigate.

  Grace slipped the piece of paper into her laptop case and walked up the steps to the office. She wouldn’t mention it to Sean. He was only here for a week, and she didn’t want to ruin her time with him explaining her paranoid theories. No, she would keep silent about her little mission. She would work to save her boss during the day, but the nights were for Sean.

  Up ahead she saw Jacob and Adam waiting on the elevator. They looked so cute together. It was a sin to women everywhere that those men liked other men. Jacob waved at her. By the time they reached the ninth floor, they had plans for lunch that included a little shopping excursion. It was time to get rid of some of this black. Grace thought she might look good in blue, something that matched Sean’s eyes.

  By the time she got to her desk, she was far more interested in shopping than that little note she’d shoved in her briefcase. The situation with Parnell could wait a week, she decided as she got to work.

  Chapter Seven

  Sean knew the instant he entered the house that he wasn’t alone. He silently set down his bag and cursed the fact that this particular assignment didn’t allow him to carry. He could have used his SIG SAUER. Of course, he could imagine the questions Grace might have if she hugged him and felt the outline of a gun pressed into a holster against his flesh. She might inquire as to why her IT boyfriend needed a loaded gun. Still, he felt a little naked without it.

  He left the door slightly ajar. He couldn’t be sure he could close it without a sound. He listened, standing in the hall patiently. Whoever was moving was doing it quietly, but he was in the bedroom. As Grace’s car was still gone and there was no other car in the drive, Sean had to suspect that this person didn’t want anyone to know he was here. Sean moved across Grace’s hardwood floors silently. He stuck close to the wall. Even on the first floor of a house, hardwood could creek. It was less likely to do that closer to the wall. He crept forward, his breath steady, placing his toe down, and then his heel. He would make his way into the kitchen. He might not have his trusty gun, but he was damn lethal with a knife as well. He played the scene out in his head. He would grab one of the smaller knives. It would be easier to wield and throw if he needed to. He would work his way back to the bedroom and have it at the bastard’s throat before the intruder knew he was no longer alone. Sean would then politely question the intruder. Interrogations had been one of his specialties as a chief warrant officer with the Green Berets.

  Sean would have to make sure to bring the asshole on the tile if he decided to kill him. It would be a much simpler cleanup. He glanced at the clock. It was slightly past noon. He needed to get the damn chicken on or it wouldn’t be ready for dinner. Maybe he wouldn’t be so polite with the asshole. He was ruining Sean’s meal plan.

  “Hello, little brother.”

  Sean turned, and his breath stopped in his throat. “Fuck you, Tag!”

  Damn it. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin. His brother moved like a wraith. Ian had always, always been able to get the jump on him.

  Ian’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. He sat in the den adjoining the kitchen with a book in his hand. His enormous body occupied Grace’s leather armchair like he owned it. But then Ian always reminded Sean of a king on his throne, no matter where he was sitting. Ian could be on the cheapest folding chair, and he seemed to turn it into something powerful merely by occupying it.

  “I was about to slit whoever is back in the bedroom’s throat,” Sean declared.

  Ian shook his head. “Please don’t. I would hate to have to bury Liam. It’s in his contract that if he’s killed, I have to haul his ass back to Ireland for burial. That bastard won’t even let me cremate him.”

  Sean didn’t want to hear about whatever was in the Irishman’s contract. Liam was fairly new to the team, and Sean found him slightly annoying. He didn’t like the thought of him pawing through Grace’s belongings. “What are you doing here, Ian? I’m not supposed to check in until tomorrow.”

  “Well, I was checking out this little book. Seriously, Sean? She’s reading a book called The Submissive’s Response. Women read this shit? This is like fantasy BDSM. No real Dom does stuff like this. He lets her tie him up. This author needs a little time with a real Dom.”

  The last thing Sean wanted to do was discuss Grace’s choices in literature. “Again—I ask, what the fuck are you doing here?”

  “You were supposed to check in yesterday.” His brother set the book down. Ian’s hands steepled in his lap. He sent Sean a look guaranteed to remind him who was the big brother and who was the little one.

  Sure enough, Sean couldn’t help but feel defensive. “I left Eve a message. I was busy working. I had to put in time with Wright and then got roped into a dinner meeting. You know how rough a deep cover assignment can be.”

  Ian gestured around the comfy little room. “You’re not exactly posing as a drug dealer deep inside a crime syndicate, Sean. You could have found the time to sneak away and call in. I expected you to call at ten last night. What were you doing?”

  Grace. He’d been doing Grace, in the pool, and then in the bed. The image played in his brain. Then, when he should have been copying the hard drive from her computer, he’d been holding her while she slept. He wasn’t about to mention that little piece of information to his brother. “I told you—I was busy.”

  “Obviously. So you’re finally in the lady’s bed.” To Sean’s mind that sounded a bit like an accusation. “It took you long enough considering the lady’s choice in reading entertainment. You could have been in her bed a long time ago.”

  Sean hadn’t wanted to push it. This whole line of conversation was making him uncomfortable. “We’re friends.”

  Ian stared at him, his eyes like laser beams looking for something to cut. “She gave you the key to her house. I would say you’re more than friends.”

  He wasn’t having this particular conversation. He didn’t want to discuss the more intimate portions of his relationship with Grace. It felt too much like a report. What had happened between him and Grace last night hadn’t been about business. He certainly wasn’t going to hold back when it came to anything important to the case, but Ian didn’t need to know how right it had felt to hold her or how damn content he’d been when he woke up this morning pressed against her body.

  “I’m working on it.” Sean went back to the front door and picked up his bags. He set his suitcase down, and then started unloading the groceries.

  “Work harder. You haven’t found out anything we don’t already know. If you can’t get this job done, then I need to pull you out and send in someone who can.”

  Sean ignored his first violent impulse to leap over the bar and beat his brother to a bloody pulp. No one w
as going to take his place. If Ian thought he could simply tell him to back off and Sean would let someone else try to seduce Grace, he was insane. The only thing that kept Sean calm was the unwavering belief that it wouldn’t work. Grace wouldn’t be interested in anyone but him. She’d proven it by offering herself last night. He was the only man she’d wanted since her husband died. Sean was quiet, and his reply as pointed as an arrow. “I’ll get the job done.”

  “See that you do.” That wasn’t his big brother talking. That was his boss. Sean knew the difference.

  Ian stood up and walked to the bar. He leaned forward. “What are you making?”

  “Coq au Vin.”

  Sean could practically see his brother start to drool. “That sounds good.”

  “It will be if I ever get a minute to put it on.” Sean pulled out the fresh chicken he’d bought and a cutting board. He picked up the knife he’d intended to slit Liam’s throat with and put it to another purpose. “Has it ever occurred to you that I can’t find anything because there’s nothing to be found?”

  Grace was so sweet. Despite his knowledge to the contrary, it was hard to believe she was really involved in this mess.

  “The CIA guy doesn’t think so.”

  “Oh, well, if the Agency believes it, then it must be true.” Sean remembered many buddies and teammates who went down because the CIA got its intelligence wrong. Afghanistan had given the Agency plenty of opportunities to screw things up. Of course, it wasn’t the screwups that really worried Sean. It was the fact that the Agency always protected the Agency. They would use the rest of the world as pawns for their games. When Sean was a Green Beret, he hadn’t had a choice in whether or not to play. He would rather hold a hot poker in his hands than have anything to do with the CIA.

  Ian’s fingertips drummed along the top of the bar. He hopped up on the barstool and made himself comfortable. “I think they’re on to something here. Mr. Black gave me a look at his file on Wright. Wright is escalating. Black thinks he’s behind two arsons, one at a lumber yard and one that killed a couple of people at a real estate development office. He likes to hit corporate offices, especially ones in large cities. Unfortunately many of those are in high-rises. The last fire that he started affected a twenty-nine-story building. It caused millions of dollars in damage, and the locals called it faulty wiring. I don’t buy it, and neither does Black.”