Endgame

by Mia Downing

  “Then that’s what Chase meant about needing to make you reset.”

  “Yes, and I wasn’t surprised he drugged me. He knew I would be angry when I came off the plane. I would assume he wanted you on a plane back home and he wouldn’t want me angry in his backseat. But he wouldn’t have known you wouldn’t go when he injected me.”

  “Hell, no.” Aaron set his jaw in that stubborn, Anderson way that Charlotte found so frustrating. But sexy. “I’m not leaving you at the end of all this. It’s my brother out there somewhere. Maybe he’s not scared, but I am and I want him back. But the fact that they just feel they can send you off to do this battle like a modern version of Joan of Arc or something… It’s fucking archaic.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. It was archaic. But it was the deal, and now that she was no longer angry, she understood. Chase would take her to the party, check her in at the door, and the pieces would move fast and furious. Jake would be given back, she would kill John, and that last bullet would be for her. So black and white, right there in front of her.

  Aaron, her sweet punk, wasn’t her future.

  She opened her eyes to plead with him. “I can’t fight with you about my purpose. It is what it is. This is what I’ve trained for. This is who I have become. I don’t have an option but to see it through, especially now.”

  “Jake betrayed you, too.”

  “Do you want to rescue him less for it?” She struggled to sit up. “He’s still someone I love, despite what he did. Despite what Chase did. I have to just remember that it’s part of the job. The two boys I love, who saved me, are a separate entity from the men who had to betray me for work purposes. Just as the woman who…cares…for you is not the same woman as your Joan of Arc.”

  She shifted on the bed, trying to make him understand. “It’s a…role. For all of us, just like the spy movie was a role for you. Who we are at work is not who we are at home.”

  “I get it.” Aaron nodded. “And work wins.”

  “Yes. Always.”

  His shoulders shifted in his special way that said he accepted everything and it was time to move on. “I’m sorry to tell you, but your nosy neighbor thinks we’re married and you had too much to drink on our honeymoon. Which is why I carried you in here, asleep.”

  So naughty, her actor boy. “Is lying an Anderson thing?”

  “Marry me and it won’t be a lie.”

  “This isn’t Vegas.” And if it were Vegas, she would be sorely tempted to die as his wife. She glanced around. “Where’s Chase?”

  “He went home. I convinced him to let you come here.” He touched her cheek and her forehead, as if looking for a fever. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

  “It takes a bit to recover. Chase has never given me that much before.”

  “He’s drugged you before?” He sounded horrified.

  She glanced up at him. Looked horrified, too. Naive boy, if he only knew what she’d done for her job. “Of course. I need to know what it feels like. In training they do all this stuff to you. Drugs, torture, bondage. The goal is to see how much you can take and how long you can fight for before you go under.”

  “He’s tortured you? Christ. Frenemy.”

  “You train for your job. I train for mine.” She frowned and thought of a way to distract him. They’d been so busy in England they never checked box office numbers. “Speaking of your job, any numbers yet?”

  “Nothing concrete until Monday, but my agent left a message saying the spy film was on its way to raking in the big money.” His eyes sparkled with joy.

  She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, so pleased for him. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, of course he wanted the film to be a success. She gave him a sound smack on the lips. “Talented punk. See, you make a great spy on film.”

  He grinned, and not an inch of it was cocky, more amazed, as if he never believed. “What about in real life, after spy camp?”

  “Much better.” She kissed him again, so proud of him. “Congratulations, love. The whole world is going to know who you are.”

  “Yeah.” His grin faded to a very sad smile. “If I could go back in time, I would have done it differently, if I could have you in the end. I’d give up the fame for you.”

  She closed her eyes and wiggled away from his warmth, wishing her path had been different, too. She could have asked Chase for so much. Witness protection, for starters, instead of a kick-ass resume. But she didn’t. She thought for a moment, wondering where his braveness to admit his feelings had come from and sighed when she remembered. “I think I said something I shouldn’t have right before I passed out.”

  “You didn’t say a thing.”

  “Not a good liar, Aaron. Not this time. We need to discuss that.”

  So stubborn when he set his jaw like that, lips firm. His brows furrowed over stormy eyes. “No, we don’t.”

  She held his chin, cupped in her palm, forcing his attention on her. “You know I can’t love you, right?”

  “Yes.” But his expression said otherwise.

  She asked softly, “You know that I’m going to die before midnight tonight, right?”

  “You don’t know that for sure.” He stiffened, his tone belligerent.

  Why did he have to be difficult? All the time, recalcitrant and disobedient. “Okay, let’s say I live. We still can’t be together. I—”

  He ground his teeth in annoyance and shoved her hand from his chin. “Chase gave me the lecture.”

  “He did?” Of course, he did. She didn’t know if she should be angry or thankful but decided to use it for what it was. “Then you know the score.”

  “Baby—”

  “Aaron. Please. If you want to get all actor-like on this, then…we’re Romeo and Juliet. Or Romeo and Joan of Arc. We can’t be together. Just accept this. For me.”

  He sighed deeply, looked longingly at her for a long moment, and nodded. “Okay.”

  He kissed her cheek and tugged her to him, so her cheek was on his chest again. “You want to talk about the party? Because we need to make plans so we can convince Chase to let me go, too. I want to help. I can be your…what is it called? Sort of like checkers, when you get to promote a piece to a king.”

  “Passed pawn.” A tremor shivered though her, and she tugged at the covers, faking she was cold. No, that wasn’t his future either. Not if she had a say.

  “Yeah. That’s what I could be, for your endgame.”

  She didn’t want to talk about this with him, not one bit. “I think your going is a bad idea.” She frowned. “And you don’t know enough to be at this party. You’d have to be a Dominant, and there are rules and protocols.”

  “I want to go. I did the research while you were…indisposed. Chase let that part slip. Basically, I treat you like the heroine in the medieval fantasy flick. You’re baggage on a leash. I won’t talk to other collared subs without permission so I don’t get my ass kicked. I can wear all black and my leather jacket. Easy role.”

  He just didn’t get it wasn’t a role. “Didn’t I tell you no Internet? I never changed the rule on that. And that means you broke into my laptop, used my passwords, and had access to a bunch of shit you shouldn’t have. Bad, Aaron. So bad.”

  He didn’t look sorry. “Spy camp rubbed off on me. And you gave me all the passwords.”

  “Once. So you could look up a rental car for me while I was doing something else.”

  “I’ll do whatever I have to do to be with you. Help you.” Aaron shifted so she could see his face, so serious and committed. “Look. I’m with you, all the way. Whatever you need. But I need to be there for you. I can’t sit and wait. He’s my brother. You’re my girl. I need to be there, because you’re my destiny.”

  “Your destiny.” She swallowed hard. The room seemed to spin and tilt, and it had nothing to do with the drugs leaving her system. “When did this come and hit you in the head? That I was your destiny?”

  He shrugged, and she could tell he
wished he could take his words back. “When you cried, after the first time we made love. You cried, I held you, and prayed for God to make your baggage easier.”

  She doubted anyone had prayed for Charlotte before. Abigail, sure. But not Charlotte. “And what did your God say?”

  “Nothing. He made me think, though. God is in the aftermath of things that go wrong, all the good things that happen. God sent you Jake and Chase after doomsday.”

  How different her life would be if God had sent someone else. “I don’t think that was one of God’s finer strategies.”

  “Of course, it was.” He chuckled. “God sent you to me before your endgame so I could help you live. If you take that one step further, God wants me to help keep you alive and happy.”

  Naïve, stupid punk. His God didn’t give two shits about her or her happiness. None of the higher entities did. “I have a bridge you might like to buy, over the Potomac. Nice bridge, six lanes, cheap price. You could set up a little toll booth and collect fees.”

  “Smarty.” He tapped her nose with his finger, careful to touch only the tip, to avoid her piercing. “Laugh all you want, but that’s why I’m here. You’re my destiny.”

  “My destiny is to kill a certain man,” she reminded him softly.

  He nodded, so serious. “My destiny is linked to yours, see? You kill the bad man. I keep you safe.”

  She had to get him off this train of thought. He couldn’t keep her safe any more than she could ask God for a do-over. It was time for her last meal, her last cigarette.

  “There are other things I’d like to link with you. More fun things,” she teased as she ran a hand over his bare chest, loving the feel of him. She wondered if he’d let his hair grow in, since his spy character had chest hair. If only she could live long enough to make a comparison.

  He cast her a skeptical glance as her fingers darted around each nipple. “You feeling up to that?”

  “Oh, yes.” Charlotte struggled out of his arms and straddled his hips. She had ways to make him forget about destiny. “I think you were wrong. Your destiny is to give me an orgasm.”

  “I like that, but not like this.” Aaron stiffened under her and the wary look surfaced again. “You know this is scary, you on top.”

  Although he said it was scary, his cock swelled under her ass. Yes, he needed her to take him this way, so she could set him free of the demons. She held a finger to his lips. “Sex camp has just one more session. You need to learn not to be afraid of a woman loving you this way. I promise not to bind you, and if you say it’s scary, I’ll stop. But I’ve wanted to be on top of you since the beginning. Will you let me?”

  He nodded, lusty but apprehensive.

  “Good.” She ran her hands along his chest, admiring the firmness of his muscles under her palms. “Your chest is divine, and I love how it feels, firm yet the skin so soft. But you know what I remember most?”

  “What?” His hands were balled with the sheets clenched tight in his fists, more from desire than anxiety.

  “When you put that damned clothespin on your nipple, so you’d know what to do with me. I picture it here,” she bent and nipped the tiny, hard peak, “clamped down on such perfection. No one has ever cared to see what it felt like to be me.”

  She kissed his other nipple, using her lips to suck the peak as he’d done for her so many times. His groan spiked her growing desire. She sat up and removed her shirt, then unsnapped her bra, loving how intently he watched her hands perform such mundane tasks.

  She cupped her breasts, and he groaned again, sitting up, mouth slightly parted. She shoved him back down. “My turn, punk. You sit and watch. Maybe you’ll get four.”

  “I doubt it, but what the hell, try.” The tension fled his body, and he laughed, a sound she felt rumble through his body, her pussy becoming slick at the vibration. She loved his laugh.

  Her tongue dipped lower, over his ribs, down to the ripples in his abdomen. “I remember how your stomach felt, pressed to my hands when you fucked my ass. How worried and gentle you were, making sure you did it right. Just for me.”

  “Char—”

  “Shh. You complain that I never talk to you. I’m talking. Listen.” She slid down between his firm thighs, legs any woman would die to be between, and kissed the head of his firm cock. “I remember how you shook as you entered me the first time, wanting to please me, not wanting it to hurt. It did, just a little, maybe because it had been so long. But in my mind…it was like being a virgin again, just for you. Because the new me, Charlotte, hadn’t loved a man before.”

  She opened her mouth and drew the thick head in, swirling her tongue around, exploring the ridge between head and shaft. She sucked him deep, relaxing enough to let him touch the back of her throat. It still wasn’t all of him, her lips touching her hand wrapped around the base. His hands settled in her hair, and a moan rumbled from his throat, through his body, one she felt though his shaft.

  It hurt to please him like this, knowing this would be the last time, ever, for her. He’d grow brave and find someone else, she hoped. Someone who would reward him with proper blowjobs for his good behavior.

  “I don’t want to come in your mouth, Char. Not this time.”

  She knew what he meant. Not the last time. She gave one long, lingering suck up his shaft, swirling her tongue over the head. Her gaze found his, and for the first and the last time, she allowed herself to see the love he felt for her there. Love, lust, something else. Pain, maybe. She felt that, too. All of it.

  She rose, straddling him, then eased the tip between her folds, so wet though he hadn’t touched her. His glance wavered, alternated from watching his bare shaft disappear into her pussy and meeting her gaze. She sensed he wanted to watch both at the same time. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his hands shook as they settled on her hips.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, not wanting him to have a flashback of his horrible first time.

  He nodded and swallowed again. “It’s amazing.”

  Up his shaft she rose, then down, plunging him deep, giving a buck of her hips as she hit bottom so her clit would get the friction she needed. She closed her eyes and guided his hands to her breasts.

  He groaned in approval, and after a long, delicious moment of his caress, she leaned forward, guiding a nipple into his open mouth. He made a noise, not a moan but sexy as hell as he sucked first one and then the other. His hands slid to the small of her back, and he pressed there as he bucked his hips up, shoving his cock deeper into her pussy.

  He stopped loving her breasts. “Kiss me, Char. Please?”

  She leaned in and met his lips, devouring him, her tongue treasuring the roughness of his, savoring each twist and twirl, how they tangled. That tongue of his spiked her desire closer to orgasm, along with the hand that eased between them to find her clit. The pads of his fingers stroked her throbbing nub, matching the rhythm she used as she slid up and down on his firm cock.

  She stilled and broke the kiss to stare down at him, taking in the angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the curve of his cheekbone, so high under those turbulent blue eyes. So much he’d given her. So much life. And he was so loyal, so steadfast in his love for her, no matter how crazy or insane, how much of a killing machine she’d been. He deserved a reward. The ultimate reward. Freedom to love another.

  “I’m so close,” he said and groaned as she quickened the rocking of her hips. “Will you come with me?”

  She stilled, his cock buried to the hilt. She knew exactly how to get what she needed. “I need you to make me a promise, and I’ll come with you.”

  He tossed his head back and grit his teeth. “Anything.”

  She traced the seam of his lips with her fingertip, wishing she could ask him to love her forever. Instead, she said, “Promise me that you will go home tomorrow and not be a punk.”

  His head snapped up, nostrils flaring from her demand as much as lust. “Jesus, Char—”

  She tapped his lips with her finger an
d shook her head. “Promise.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded slowly, his breathing shallow.

  She rode the length of his cock again, drumming up his need. “Promise you will not drink to excess, and you’ll leave the drugs alone.”

  He nodded—this one came easier.

  She trembled just a little, hating what she would ask of him next. She fucked him hard for three strokes, and when he hissed out a breath, she knew it was time. “Promise you won’t become a man whore, but you’ll wait for the right woman to love you. She’s out there, waiting. She’ll find you and love you, as Aaron Anderson, not your growing fame or your fortune. Hopefully, she’ll love your car.”

  “No.” His fingers bit into her hips, and his gaze sliced into hers, horrified. “Please. Don’t do this to me.”

  She ignored the stabbing pain in her heart, worse than any physical wound she’d ever experienced as a spy. “Promise me you’ll go for five with her. Okay? Take her to five. Shatter the Anderson record.”

  “Char. No,” he begged. He bit his lip, shoulders tense, fighting the orgasm, fighting her words.

  She buried the pain, the anguish, and found the cold, hard, and mean she needed to be from this point forward. “Do you love me?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Then promise me.” She tapped her fingers to his lips, then gently shut his mouth with her hand under his chin. And for extra good measure, she rocked harder on his cock and squeezed her inner muscles, taking him just that bit higher, so he’d have to promise. “This is your reward. I’m setting you free to love someone else. Promise me you’ll love again.”

  He sighed, so conflicted yet lusty. He looked at her longingly, as if he were saying goodbye. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice raw.

  “Then come with me, Aaron.”

  “Charlotte,” he moaned and arched upward, his cock slamming deep inside, claiming her with his release. She came, too, the timing perfect, the pleasure bittersweet, a wash of painful bliss through her tummy and limbs, down to her toes. Her last orgasm given to him.