by S. M. Butler
He zeroed in on her, stepping closer to her. The closer he was to her, the clearer his head was. It was like his entire body woke up with every step nearer to her. “You’re not going to help me?”
“I think you can manage a shower on your own.” The icy queen was back, her voice level and matter-of-fact. Gone was the woman who’d played games at the festival all day. Was this the real Bea? Was this the woman she really was? Or was it that woman who’d outshot him at the festival?
“Maybe I don’t want to be by myself.” Well, fuck, wasn’t that the truth? He didn’t want to be by himself. If he did, and he closed his eyes, he was going to see that man again, or see that two-by-four bearing down on him, or feel the fingers of his killer around his throat. Even now, his head pounded remembering it and his throat was sore as fuck.
“You want me to watch?” Her nose wrinkled, as if the thought disgusted her.
“I want you in the shower with me.”
“No,” she replied.
“Who are you?” he asked. “I mean, really. Because I saw your face when you killed that guy. That’s not the first body you’ve ever dropped.”
She didn’t say anything, which pretty much confirmed it for him. Not a fucking receptionist. She’d had some kind of military training, at the very least. The way she’d handled that gun, the fucking talent she had hitting that center mass on a moving target when she could have easily hit him by mistake…
“Are you going to kill me?”
She shook her head, frowning deeply. “No. I’m here to protect you.”
“Should I believe that?”
“My job isn’t to kill you,” she said, calmly. Her job? “My job right now is to get you cleaned up and get you to relax. It’s been a stressful day for you, Axel. You need some rest.” She gripped his wrist and pulled him down the hall. He let her pull him, noting the strength she gripped him with. Those weren’t the hands of a receptionist. Though her skin was soft and supple, the strength in her fingers was powerful.
How had he not seen it before? This new aspect of her was in every move she made. Confidence and power radiated from her, flowed through her blood, even through her fingers.
She pushed open the door to the bathroom. “In there.”
“If I’m bad, will you spank me too?”
Her face did not betray any amusement. He almost laughed. She was trying so hard, but he saw beneath it. The worry, the fear. She’d been worried for him. Maybe she had a secret military past she didn’t want to admit, but there was still a human under that icy veneer.
He pulled off his shirt in one quick moment, the red-tinted shirt probably forever stained with another man’s blood. It was too bad. He liked that shirt. “You go next.”
“I’m not the one taking a shower.”
“If you want me to get cleaned up, you are,” he replied.
Her eyes narrowed, her lips thinning into an angry line.
He grinned. “I need you to scrub me clean. I can’t do it without you.”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not getting in the shower.”
He unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Her face turned to a dark rose color. A blush? From the confident and sexy Beatrice? “Come on, babe. I promise I’ll behave.”
Shit, he wasn’t sure where he was getting the strength to joke around like this. Maybe the whole ordeal tonight had just broken his mind. He was just spewing out nonsense at this point.
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He raised his hand. “Scout’s honor. I’m not going to fuck you in the shower.”
“It’s the other hand,” she replied.
He shrugged and raised the other hand. “I still promise.”
When he saw the hesitation in her eyes, he stepped over to her, putting his arms around her. Slowly, he pressed his lips against that soft flesh where her neck and shoulder met while he unzipped her dress. As it loosened, he slid his fingers against her skin, reveling in the smoothness of her skin as he pushed the dress from her shoulders. It fell in an ungraceful puddle of fabric at her feet. The loud thump reminded him that she’d been armed all day, hiding weapons in that floral mess.
“See? It’s not so bad,” he whispered. He moved his hands to her chest, feeling the soft pebbled nipple against his palm. No bra. All day long and he hadn’t even realized. He groaned against her neck.
Her head fell to the side, allowing him more access to taste her skin, and he took full advantage, sliding his lips and tongue over the slender column of her throat up to her ear.
“This is such a bad idea,” she moaned as he cupped her breasts.
“It’s a damn good idea,” he replied and took her mouth. Both of them let out a synchronized groan. Her fingers fumbled with his shorts and they dropped a moment later. He gripped the thin fabric of her panties, almost about to rip them off when she broke the kiss and stepped back.
Both of them stripped the rest of the way until they were completely bare to each other.
He stopped and stared at her. Fuck, she was beautiful. In that moment, he didn’t care that she wasn’t who she said she was, or that she’d been walking around town with no bra and a gun in her pocket. All he could think of was the way her skin glowed when the light of the bathroom hit her, and the way her cheeks tinted pink when he looked at her.
Her limbs were all power, the muscles clearly defined. She had a tight six pack and her breasts… Two perfect little orbs with dusty pink tips he wanted to suck on for hours. His cock hardened as she leaned over and turned on the shower, the spray punching out of the shower head with a hard hiss. “In the shower,” she ordered.
That was one order he was more than happy to obey. He stepped into the warm water, the liquid sliding down his body and down into the drain with a pink tint. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. She could have broken his hold, he knew that. But she didn’t and wasn’t that telling a lot? She stepped over the tub wall and into the spray with him.
Shit, he had almost died tonight. His body was aching to do something, so he knew that he’d survived it. He needed to feel alive. Human again. Sure, he’d been in combat situations before. Like when his unit died.
He squeezed his eyes shut. No, he wasn’t going to think about that now. He wasn’t dead and he wasn’t dying now. He was here, in the shower with a gorgeous naked woman, and he was going to show her just how alive he was.
He cupped her face; his thumbs brushing against her cheek and brought his face to hers. Pressing his lips against hers, he pushed her against the tile wall. She gasped against his mouth, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He broke the contact, but only to run his lips down her neck, lightly biting her skin. Not hard enough for a mark, but enough that she felt it. Her answering moan was his confirmation.
“You said you weren’t going to fuck me in the shower.” He glanced up at her, the fire in her eyes, the challenge in them… shit, wasn’t that fucking hot? He was almost willing to break his word just so he could feel her surrounding him.
He grinned at her, and palmed one of her small breasts, brushing his thumb over the nipple. “Are you saying you don’t want me to?”
She didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself, wasn’t it?
“I never said we weren’t going to fool around, Bea. Because we definitely are.” He knelt before her so he could suck those pretty rose nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue over her erect peaks. Watching her face as she rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and her fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders, he almost hoped she was drawing blood, that he could affect her that much.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, though her voice wasn’t as confident. And it didn’t help her case when her fingers left his shoulders and tangled in his hair, fisting the dark curls tightly as he kissed his way down her flat abdomen, his hands following the soft curves of her lithe body.
“Shh,” he said simply. He just licked up the inside of her thigh
, using his bulk to push her legs apart. She didn’t fight him. Her legs opened up with the soft urge, revealing the promised land he craved, the tiny patch of skin that glistened with wetness that had nothing to do with the shower. She was bare, as if it had been done just for him recently and didn’t that just make him harder as her fingers pulled his head against her.
The world beyond this moment didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he’d almost died, or that she’d killed a man tonight. It didn’t matter that someone was trying to kill him, and he didn’t know why. No, he didn’t care about anything beyond feeling alive and she was right there on board with helping him make it happen.
He used his thumbs to open her before him, but it wasn’t enough, so he hooked her leg over his shoulder, his hands going to her hips to hold her steady. Then he flicked his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. The taste burst on his tongue like fire. So fucking good. He went in for seconds. Flattening his tongue, he took a long lap up her sex, his body trembling as the taste of her hit his tongue.
Both of them moaned.
He got to work, licking and sucking all around her delicious sex. Then he added a finger into the mix, sliding the long digit into her, feeling the tight grip around it. Shit, he wanted to do her right there in the shower, but that wasn’t what this was about. He wanted to feel her climax against his tongue, squeezing his finger. He wanted to prove to the both of them that he was alive and well. Sure, he needed to clean himself off, to wash away the ugly of the night. But here, he wanted something good to come out of it.
As he added a second finger to the first, pumping in and out of her body slowly, he knew this was what they needed. His cock punched out like a homing beacon, zeroing in on where he was licking until it ached for attention.
Her body quivered, her fingers fisting his hair, and pulling mercilessly. Her climax hit her hard. Wetness gushed from her and still he pushed his face as deep into her body as he could get it. Loud and proud, she threw her head back and called his name. Her insides clamped on his fingers, as if she could hold them in place as he rode her climax out, never stopping his ministrations. Then her body slumped, and he took the moment to look up at her.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes burning hot as fuck, and that satisfied half smile on her face… It made everything worth it. He rinsed himself off, making sure there was no trace of blood or dirt anywhere on him then did the same with her. The whole time, she stared at him, not saying a word. Then he picked her up in his arms and stepped out, toweling them both off.
This is what he needed. Feeling alive, making her come, and taking care of her. He picked her up again, not even knowing where he was going, but somehow, he found the one room with a bed in it, and slowly deposited her in the middle of it.
That was when she came alive again, focusing those heated eyes on him. She lifted onto her elbows, her body on display. He wanted every bit of her, to devour her. Her eyes slid over his naked body, taking in every inch of him. So fucking hot. “What now?”
“We aren’t in the shower anymore,” he said, crawling onto the bed with her. She didn’t move as he lifted his body over her, his rigid cock between her legs, aching to slide deep inside her. “Now, I’m going to fuck you.”
She grabbed his arm, hooked her leg around his and flipped them, so he was on his back. “And if I don’t let you?”
“You will,” he promised, cupping her breasts in his hands as they hung from her body. She arched toward his hands, his thumbs brushing across her erect nipples. “I made you come once. I’ll do it again and again before we’re done tonight.”
The promise resonated between them, settling on them like a warm blanket. Fuck being shot at and attacked on the street. Axel was going to forget it all. Nothing else but feeling her warmth surrounding him mattered at all in that moment.
13
Nathan had managed to get Bridget to stay at least. Wasn’t that supposed to be a win? He’d always prided himself on how well he could manipulate people to do his bidding. But with her, he felt dirty when he did it. What was going to happen when she saw her brother? Would Scott tell her what Nathan had manipulated him into doing?
He tapped the messenger app on his computer and clicked on Abigail Lewis. She wouldn’t like hearing from him again so soon, but he didn’t have a choice. When he’d gotten to his computer this morning, Sierra had a new analysis waiting for him.
“Nathan, we’ve got to stop talking like this,” the woman said when she answered the call. “I’m busy.”
“Yes, your meeting with your father’s lawyers. I’m aware. This won’t take long.”
She sighed and shook her head, strawberry curls falling over her shoulders. “You need to learn to stay out of my business, too.”
“Did your father’s files ever mention Senator Reilly?”
“George Reilly?” When Nathan nodded, she frowned. “Not specifically, but he did have a meeting set up with Reilly for a few days after his arrest. Obviously, he never made the meeting, and the prison logs don’t show Reilly ever visiting.”
“I doubt they would if he did,” Nathan replied. “Sierra found some payments to your father from Reilly’s import company. I was hoping there might be more of a connection.”
“I’m sorry, Nathan, but I haven’t found anything like that.”
“No worries,” he replied, though his stomach dropped with disappointment. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Miss Lewis.”
“Listen, Chris said you haven’t been in contact with them in a few days.” She paused, like she was trying to get up the nerve to say what she wanted to say. “I get you’re busy, but they need you, too.”
“My dear, they’re trained to do just fine without me,” he said.
“Does this have to do with your family?” His head snapped up to the screen in surprise. She snorted. “Don’t look so surprised, Nathan. You’re not the only one who can google shit.” She sighed. “I know what it’s like to lose family. It can eat away at your insides until you just feel like you can’t stand the burn of loneliness anymore.”
Fire burned deep in Nathan’s gut as he narrowed his gaze on the girl on the screen. “No offense, Miss Lewis, but you don’t know anything. You’re just a child pretending to be a grownup. Please don’t try your amateur manipulation on me.”
“Not everything is about manipulation, Nathan.”
As he ended the call, Nathan realized he’d played right into her hands. She’d wanted an emotional reaction from him, and though he had called her on it, he had still had an emotional reaction. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding his glasses off his face.
He dropped the black rims on the desk and leaned back in his chair. Abigail Lewis had lost a lot in her life, it was true. But her loss was nothing compared to losing a child and the one he loved more than life itself. Perhaps if she’d lost Hardy, then maybe she’d understand.
The soft knock drew him out of his thoughts and the door opened slowly. Bridget peeked around the side of the door. “Sir?”
“Good morning, Miss Muldoon.” He straightened up in his chair and slid his glasses back on his face.
“You said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes, we have some things to talk about.”
“Sir, about last night… I was upset. I’m not going to apologize for being angry about your proposition, but my reaction—”
“Your reaction was justified,” he replied. “I was an ass.”
“An epic ass,” she corrected. “So, what am I doing here?”
“You wanted more than to be my employee. If we are to do this, there are things you need to know about.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to get around what he’d asked Scott Muldoon to do for him, but maybe if he told Bridget just enough truth, she’d stop asking questions that would drag her deeper into this mess. He stood up and walked around the desk as she came into the room and shut the door.
She’d been in his apartment a hundred times before this, but this time, he was ne
rvous. Maybe because he had to open up a wound in order to get her on board with him, or maybe it was because they were doing it in the privacy of his penthouse apartment. Maybe he should have asked her to his office instead… No. There were too many eyes and ears around there. His Ghosts were discreet but there was no use chancing it.
“Nathan?”
He glanced at Bridget. She was staring at him like he had two heads. “Yes?”
“You’ve been silent for, like, five minutes. If you don’t want to do this…” She took a step backward.
Before he could reel himself in, he crossed the room and grasped her wrist, stopping her cold. Her surprise wasn’t much less than his. He’d never been one to initiate touch. But here he was, holding on to her slender wrist to keep her from leaving.
“Please, wait. This is… new for me.”
“I’ve been waiting, Nathan. You’re obviously having trouble with the concept.”
“Teach me,” he whispered.
“What?”
“I’ve not been open with anyone for a very long time. I… I’m not sure I remember how to do it,” he clarified.
Slowly, she pulled her hand back, breaking his hold on her. He couldn’t tell anything from her expression. That in itself was new for him. He’d always known what anyone was thinking. People wore their emotions on their face plain as day, try as they might to hide them. But Bridget? She was the pinnacle of the stone-faced right then. His heart started to race as she stepped around him into the room.
She glanced around like she’d never been in it before, which was ludicrous as she’d been here a hundred times before. Then she sat down at the table and motioned to the chair across from her. Like an obedient puppy, his feet started moving and before he knew it, he was sitting in that chair.
“I’m not asking for you to open your heart. I know your family was important to you, and believe me, I know it’s gut wrenching to know you won’t ever see them again. I’m asking you to treat me as an equal. It’s been four years, Nathan. I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me. I gave up my life for this because I believed in you and what you were trying to accomplish.”