“What—”
“Shut up and hug me.”
He folded his arms around her, gently, always careful. Because to him she’d never stopped being that little girl tagging along behind him and Matt.
“If you pick a fight with me just to make yourself feel better about leaving, I’m going to shank you in your sleep, okay?” She wasn’t entirely joking. The only way she’d get one up on him, especially with a gimpy arm, was to jump him in his sleep.
He sputtered and laughed, his hands stroking her back.
She loved and hated the feel of his skin on hers, the memories it brought back. The way her body remembered his. Emotion wrapped around her throat, making it hard to breathe.
They were who they were, history, twisted feelings and all. Nothing between them would ever be simple or easily labeled.
He shifted against her until his mouth pressed to the top of her head.
Was this his version of an apology? Well, she’d take it. Because this time, she wasn’t going to let him walk away and never look back.
He might need to be this person, living in the shadows for the greater good, but he didn’t have to be alone, cut off from everyone. They could still have this. The spark hadn’t died in nearly ten years of silence; it wasn’t going to suffer from a little time apart. What that meant for her future, whatever they were, she didn’t know, but she’d figure out a way to be okay with it.
She leaned back, looking up at him, searching his face for some sign of emotion.
He brushed a wisp of hair off her cheek, smoothing it up behind her ear.
There was no easy way to explain them, what this was, and truth be told, she could worry about it later.
Sarah lifted up on her toes the same moment he dipped his head. Their lips only half connected, or maybe it was the strike of flesh on flesh.
He cupped the back of her head, turning her back to the door while his mouth found hers.
Combustible.
That was what they were.
She reached blindly for the door, finding the key card by touch. She pulled it out and shoved it back in, half listening for the beep. Rand’s hand tapped hers as he, too, reached for the handle.
Beep.
There.
Their hands tangled, pushing the lever down.
Rand pivoted, putting himself between her and the door, holding her at arm’s length. The need glittering deep within his gaze sparked a similar heat deep inside of her.
“Wait there,” he said.
For what?
He pivoted, ducking into the room.
Oh. Right.
Because they’d never be a normal couple.
She edged past the door after him, keeping an eye on the hall and Rand’s progress through the room.
She knew the moment he locked eyes on her what was going to happen next.
He stalked around the big, king-size bed, still rumpled from her nap. Sarah shrugged one shoulder out of the thin, cap-style sleeve.
He reached for her again, his big hand sliding around the back of her head, the other at her waist. His mouth was warm, soft. His tongue teased hers. He squeezed her to him.
No, things between them weren’t perfect and they never would be, but when they stopped talking they could be honest with each other. Their mouths said what they thought they needed to, but their bodies couldn’t lie.
He wanted her, and she wanted him.
Right here and now, it could be that simple.
She stroked her fingers over his cheek and grasped the front of his dress shirt with her other hand. The starched fabric crinkled, but under that, it was all Rand.
He tugged on the thin strap of fabric across her shoulder blades. That was the only thing holding the dress up. He must have gotten the single button through the hole. The dress gaped forward, gravity pulling it down.
Rand pushed her hands aside and tugged the dress, exposing her breasts. But only for a moment. He covered both with his hands, pressing her to the wall, his mouth against hers.
“You should tell me to stop,” he said.
“No.” She covered his hands with hers, relishing the feel of his touch, the press of his body.
He kissed her neck, across her collarbone. His thumbs swiped back and forth, fingers kneading her.
She leaned her head back, losing herself in the sensation of his mouth and hands, the way he made her lose her mind. She loved him. She hated him. She wanted to be with him. She couldn’t stand his presence. Things were complicated and uncertain, but what she knew, right here and now, was that she wanted this. For however long it lasted.
His lips wrapped around her nipple, his tongue flicking the stiff peak.
She gasped and dug her fingers through his hair, curling her toes. Need unfurled within her, an insistent hunger.
Rand made a strangled, growling noise in the back of his throat, the vibrations tickling her skin. She felt the tremors all the way to the apex of her thighs. She pressed her legs together in an effort to ease the desire, but who was she kidding? There were no tempering things between them.
He stepped back, and if it weren’t for the wall propping her up, she might have fallen. She sucked down a deep breath, her head spinning.
“What’s—” She didn’t get the rest of her sentence out.
He swept her off her feet and carried her to the dresser, setting her down on the surface. Her head swam. She held onto the edge of the dresser as he stepped back, looking at her.
“You’re so damn beautiful.”
She might have preened, except she couldn’t think straight.
Rand braced his hands on the dresser and kissed her. Softly. His hips wedged her legs apart, forcing the knee length skirt up higher. She leaned toward him and he moved with her, keeping the contact gentle when she wanted more.
He cupped her mound, the thin cotton panties serving as little to no barrier. She gasped, and he stroked his tongue into her mouth. His fingers curled against her.
She shoved his jacket off one shoulder. He flapped his hand and got it the rest of the way off. He switched hands, his mouth never leaving hers, a firm touch always on her body, and got the jacket off.
“Rand.” She tugged on his shirt. There was too much space between them. She wanted to feel him, touch him.
He slipped a hand up her skirt and grasped the waistband of her panties.
About damn time. She wasn’t exactly patient. He broke the kiss and leaned back. She shifted, helping him pull her panties off.
Finally! She reached for him, but he sank to his knees first.
“What the—oh!”
Rand gently bit her inner thigh. Not hard, but that wasn’t exactly something she’d been expecting. She snapped her knees closed, or tried to. His shoulders were in the way, as was the rest of him.
“What the hell?” She smacked his shoulder.
“Being a brat.” He kissed the top of one leg, then the inner thigh of the other. “Relax.”
That was…getting awfully up close and familiar. She swallowed.
He stroked her folds. She knew the touch was coming, expected it, and yet she still gasped at the first contact.
“You need to be closer,” he said. Rand grabbed her knees and pulled her ass to the very edge of the dresser.
“Hey!”
“Better.” He grinned.
“You couldn’t just say, ‘hey, move’?”
“It’s more fun this way.”
“Oh!”
Whatever retort that’d been on her lips died the moment he licked her.
Licked.
Her.
She gasped and flattened her hands against the dresser surface. He slid his fingers into her while his tongue drew little circles around her clit.
“Oh, fuck,” she muttered.
Talk about unexpected. No man, in her experience, had ever gone down without some serious hinting or direct requests. Even then, she’d had to bargain for it once or twice.
This was…different
. Maybe because it was Rand or that it was freely given, but hot damn. She let her head drop back and closed her eyes.
He pumped his fingers into her, each stroke deep, bold, no hesitation. As if he’d already begun to learn her body, what she liked. Sarah wasn’t exactly a shy lover. He feathered a careful touch over her clit, pulling the delicate skin back.
She shivered and opened her eyes, staring down at his brown hair glinting reddish in the lamp light.
He leaned in, his tongue flicking back and forth over the little bundle of nerves. Her toes curled again and her shoes fell to the floor. She pulled her feet up, finding purchase against the stainless steel drawer pulls.
That sound—that long, needy moan—was her.
His lips wrapped around her clit and sucked while he continued to fuck her with his fingers. She shoved her hand into his hair, wrapping her fingers around the strands and tugged.
That.
Words lost their meaning, but he seemed to get the gist of what she wanted. He slid another finger into her, stretching her.
She arched her back, his free hand sliding up her stomach to cup her breast. She shifted her hips, working in time with his touch, the penetration, all the while her world narrowing to a single, bright point.
“Rand!”
I love you.
…
Rand knew he should back off, let her come down off that high. Sarah slumped back on the dresser, her body boneless, sweat glistening on her skin.
He wasn’t good at doing the things he should.
Which was why he was ripping a condom open instead of taking an ice cold shower.
Sarah grabbed him by the shirt, jerking him forward. He planted a hand on the dresser to keep from losing his balance.
She kissed him, without a care that he’d just gone down on her. Her hands were everywhere, one on his cock, the other under his shirt. She stroked his chest. Instead of sated and relaxed, she was…hungry.
He pulled back, enough to roll the condom on. He barely had it to the base before Sarah wrapped her hand around him, pulling him forward. She sat up a bit straighter, her gaze on his mouth.
Fuck, she was out to break him.
Her heated skin kissed his cock.
There.
“Oh, God.” He thrust, groaning as he slid deep.
Sarah kissed his lips, her tongue in his mouth.
No one could piss him off, get under his skin, or turn him on faster than her.
He planted his hand on the dresser for better leverage, his hips working. She moved with him.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“You feel so fucking good.” He kissed her neck, her cheek, her mouth.
Her lashes fluttered a few times. She dug her nails into the nape of his neck, forcing him in for another kiss. Her gaze snared his.
There were things he couldn’t say to her, not without losing pieces of his soul forever. He loved her, for one, he wanted to be with her forever, was another. Fundamental truths he wouldn’t deny to himself, but sharing them with her was an impossibility. Once those sorts of things were said, there was no taking them back.
No matter how pissed off she made him, how they picked at each other, under it all he would always love Sarah before anyone else. She was the other part of his soul, the reason his heart beat, why he had to do his part to keep the world a safer, better place.
He flattened his hand on her lower back, changing the angle.
“Rand. Fuck.”
“Like this?”
She made little helpless moans.
“Keep looking at me.” He wanted to see it, the moment she felt something.
Her brow creased and her breathing hitched. She dug her nails into his biceps and her leg curled around him.
So fucking close.
He squeezed her closer to him and thrust, harder, deeper, without a care to the dresser thumping against the wall.
Rand saw the moment of her climax in her eyes, the way they seemed to lose focus. Her pussy tightened around him. He groaned, pumping into her, losing himself in the feel of her body, the slice of her nails on his skin.
He loved this. Her. All of it.
He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight moments before his balls drew up and release rolled through him.
She clutched him to her, her head buried against his neck, her breath warming his skin.
What the hell was he going to do with her? Before, it’d just been dreams, his fantasies. Now, he knew the reality. How was he supposed to go on without her now that he knew what it could be like?
Sarah stroked the back of his neck and shoulders.
He wanted to pinch her head off sometimes, the same way he had when they were kids and she just wouldn’t shut up. But the rest of the time…they could be so good together. How did he explain himself to her? How did they come to some sort of…understanding?
“Sarah…” He picked his head up and groaned. Her internal muscles squeezed his softening penis.
“Don’t say anything, please?” She pulled him back, burying her face against his chest. “Sometimes you make me so freaking angry. Can we just not, right now? Don’t fight with me, don’t try to control things, just…stop. This is how things are, and we have to live with it.”
He hated the strain in her voice, the tremors that had nothing to do with sex shaking her hands. But what more could he offer her?
Rand kissed the top of her head and gathered her in his arms.
This much he could do. He could hold her until she slept, and then watch over her. That, at least, he knew how to do.
…
The door to the suite opened. Wei stood, waiting. One by one, the other members of the group entered.
Wang Ping was last, bringing up the rear with his assistant.
“Have you found something?” Ping asked.
“Someone’s been watching us.”
“Give us the room,” he said to the others.
Working for someone like Wang Ping meant being at least somewhat aware of what the man really did. He wasn’t just a province official, he was a core member of the intelligence committee. Wei reported directly to him more than any other person.
“Show me,” Ping said when they were alone.
Wei opened the laptop and the rest of the equipment he’d taken from the neighboring room. He laid out what he’d discovered in the handful of hours he’d spent digging into the issue, that someone was watching them, listening in, and knew they had the stolen case on American soil. Outside of that, there wasn’t much to tell.
“Who do you think it is?” Ping paced back and forth.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t been here long enough to have observed anyone out of place. The name and a phone number your mole gave us? I couldn’t trace the number, but I did find out that someone using that same name is registered at this hotel. Next door.”
Ping muttered curses under his breath.
“Have you seen anyone out of place? Anyone unusual?”
“No.” Ping glared at Wei. They’d both been in this business long enough to know that coincidences were never happenstance. Whoever was using that name was after the briefcase, and likely knew more about how to open it and what was inside than they did. “Qiang was speaking to some woman yesterday. She works for one of those humanitarian organizations, but other than that, it’s been meetings about this stupid party for the U.S. Secretary of State. What about this? Did you get anything off it?”
Ping gestured at the laptop. Wei opened it and the screen lit up, displaying a login screen.
“I haven’t tried yet,” Wei responded. I was waiting for you.”
“Break it. See what they might have learned. I’ll find out who Qiang was speaking to.” Ping stalked to the conference room and opened the door. “Qiang? A word?”
Wei wasn’t certain hacking the laptop was a good idea. If it had security on it, they could lose whatever intel they might have acquired. But they needed results fast. Waiting was not an option
.
Qiang edged through the door, shoulders hunched. The young man looked like he was going to wet himself.
“The woman you spoke with earlier. Who was she?” Ping asked.
“Sarah Collins, from the American Wishing Well company, sir. She was part of the water project last year.”
“Sarah Collins? You’re sure it’s Sarah Collins?” Ping’s face flushed.
“Who is she? What is she doing here?” Wei’s fingers stilled on the keys.
“She—she lives here between assignments. She and her…boyfriend? Husband? I’m not sure, I’m sorry. They are staying here for the weekend. She was immensely valuable negotiating…” Qiang’s voice trailed off and he glanced between them. “Is something wrong?”
“A woman who works with you, halfway around the world, is conveniently staying at the same hotel when you visit her country?” Wei stared at Qiang. “And that’s not suspicious to you?”
“She…lives here. It’s not the first time we’ve run into her when we’ve been here, sir. She—”
“Find out where she’s staying,” Ping said. “Go.”
Qiang scurried back into the conference room.
“He knew,” Ping snarled.
“Qiang?”
“No. My source. My contact.” Ping began to pace, his face twisted into a mask of rage. “She was just a name. I thought figuring out who she was would take too long. There wasn’t time to work on both.”
“Why is this woman important?” Wei straightened. He wasn’t going to like this answer.
“Because Sarah Collins is the person who can open the case. She was under our damn noses the whole time. He said—he said we would have to choose, the case or her.”
“Who is he?” Wei stared at Ping. Who was this source? Why wasn’t Wei involved with managing them? It was his job to get information that was otherwise difficult to obtain.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“What about this Sarah Collins?”
“The laptop. Now,” Ping snapped.
Wei bit back any further questions. He’d been kept in the dark about the mole until Ping sent him to South Korea to get the case. Only being privy to part of the information was limiting Wei’s contribution to the operation. He could do so much more, but the decisions were in Ping’s hands, as always.
Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes) Page 15