by Mia Downing
He frowned and looked confused, maybe even a little hurt. “I don’t understand why are you telling me this, now, except to give me a heart attack and to make me question if sending you anywhere is the right thing?”
“Now you know how I feel.” She opened her hands wide before her. “It sucks not to know everything, doesn’t it? It sucks to be used, to be on the outside while everyone makes plans for you. The ball is in your court, Sanders. You wanted to destroy me. There’s your ammo. Take me down.”
He shook his head slightly, and she tensed, waiting for him to bring the battle. He must have warred with the internal demons again because he closed his eyes and she held her breath.
Then he opened his eyes, and she wanted to die under that cold gaze. “You don’t know the half of what sucks.” He flicked his intercom. “Helen, send Jake in.”
“Yes, sir,” Helen responded.
A moment later, Jake entered and sat next to her, his blue eyes full of concern that couldn’t be real. “You okay?” he whispered as Chase took another call.
“Yes,” she lied with a small smile. She knew how things worked now. Of course, Jake already knew about the mission. God forbid she know anything first. No doubt Jake was hot on the seduction part, which is why he had started early, holding her, touching her. Kissing her. “He filled me in on the details. Everything’s crystal clear.”
“Shit, Kate. You need to learn to lie better. It’s going to get you killed one day. Maybe tomorrow.”
“Yeah? Well, he won’t sweat a bit when I don’t come home, just as long as you make it out.”
She watched Chase wind a paper clip around his finger as he talked. She didn’t understand how he could go from tender, loving Chase in bed to this Chase, the cold hearted bastard. She knew it was work—he had warned her—but damn, he could at least be sorry.
Chase ended his call and cleared his throat. “This is going to be a bit awkward for all involved, but the beginning part of the mission depends on the two of you being compatible as lovers. If they suspect Kate is an agent, they’ll kill you both.”
“I’m good with kissing her,” Jake drawled.
“You’d kiss a rat if it would have sex with you.” Chase glanced at him sharply. “But I’m not convinced she’s up to the part and I don’t want either of your lives put in jeopardy.”
Jake glanced at her, then back at Chase. “This isn’t Paris. You don’t need to worry.”
She saw a look pass between them and a part of her wondered what was so special about Paris, but the anger won. How dare they discuss her like she wasn’t in the room? How dare Chase basically tell his best friend she was inadequate?
“Why am I not up to the part?” she demanded. “And it’s not like he hasn’t kissed me. You watched him the other day. And I was stupid enough to think this was how your little inner circle acted with each other, that it was okay because you two have a past.”
“I am concerned because you are inexperienced.” Chase cleared his throat, ignoring her. “Two weeks ago you were a virgin, and you’ve only slept with one person. That’s why I’m doubting your proficiency.”
“Well, maybe the sex coach you assigned me should have passed me around some if he wanted me to be proficient.”
“Kate, he’s right about the experience part,” Jake said. “He’s asking you to go way out of your comfort zone on this mission, and he’s worried. Don’t get nasty.”
“Then maybe the government should have hired a blonde whore to get the job done.” She laughed bitterly. “Oh, that’s right. I wasn’t hired, so they have to mold me into what they want me to be. You want me to be more experienced? What about Jake? Right now?”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to Jake. “You and my coach seem to run along the same tastes when it comes to women. Let’s put his seduction training to the test.”
She ran her fingers up Jake’s arm, along his jaw, ignoring the fear in Jake’s eyes. “So what do you like, Jake? Am I the aggressor? Submissive? God, I’d love to ride you. You’re a little shorter than my coach. I bet the angle will be exquisite when I—”
“Enough,” Chase growled.
Jake glanced first at her, then over at Chase, wary. She pulled Jake’s chin so he looked only at her and traced his lips with her finger.
Jake grabbed her wrist and held it firmly in his hand, the wary look changing to one of warning. “Playing with fire. Big time, Kate.”
Oh, you haven’t seen fire yet. She glanced at Jake’s hand on her wrist then she gave him a look that always had Chase’s attention. The next step would be for him to throw her on the bed, or floor, or against the door, and he’d be pounding into her. Chase saw because he gripped the edge of his desk, his knuckles white.
She glanced again at Jake’s hand, still gripping her wrist. “You like it rough?” She lowered her voice to a whisper, just loud enough to catch Chase’s ears. She touched Jake’s thigh, right near his cock—Jake jumped, Chase sucked in his breath—and she dug her fingers into the muscles of his quad. “My coach rides me hard. I’d love it. Hard. From you, Jake.”
Jake groaned and leaned his head back, breathing hard. “Put the gasoline away, Kate. Please.”
“I bet you’re ready for me, just from me talking dirty.” The tension from Chase’s side of the desk was so thick she could have cut it with a knife. “Chase doesn’t believe I’m ready. Do you?”
Chase slammed his hand down on the desk and Kate jumped.
“You’re being a brat. No, I don’t believe you can do this, not because of what your coach taught you, but because you’re too sweet. There’s still way too much Emma in you for this mission, and it scares me witless. Talking dirty to Jake now isn’t the same thing as kissing him while an entire tent of support personnel watches. It’s not the same as going as close to fucking him as you can, to be convincing enough not to get killed, while you wait for guards to drag you in from the border of their compound.”
Kate stiffened. “You don’t know—”
“Don’t tell me what I know, love. I have been in your shoes and let me tell you, you can kid yourself with feeling safe here. But tomorrow, you’re going to die because I was stupid and you’re a damned brat. Fuck your coach. He didn’t prepare you for that because your coach is a fool.”
“Chase. Again, this isn’t Paris. I can handle this. Her,” Jake said.
“Then maybe my coach should have been better at his job, like you, Chase. You’re real good at your job, aren’t you?”
“Kiss him. Here. Now.”
“Chase!” Jake whispered.
Kate’s hands shook, and she glared at Chase. Damn him, she had gone as far as she was going to go. Touching Jake’s thigh had been enough for her. But Chase had taken her blaze and made it an inferno, and now she was trapped. “Fuck you.”
His smile was cold and calculating. Smug. “Not so brave now, are you, Kate? How brave will you be tomorrow?”
She glanced at Jake. He gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles white. She looked back at Chase, his gaze unwavering but heated, angry, firm in his demand. It dawned on her that this wasn’t a work thing. This had to be about them, about her. Maybe even a little about her relationship with Jake and how close they’d grown in the past few weeks. Because of this fucking mission.
“I’m waiting,” Chase said, dangerously quiet.
He was her boss, and he used that voice. She had to obey. She turned and leaned to Jake, inhaling deeply to settle her nerves. He smelled nice, but different, of soap and leather from his jacket. Her lips brushed his, gently at first, then she leaned a little closer, her tongue darting out to slip between his lips. He remained tight-lipped, his body stiff, not at all participating.
She ended the kiss and looked at Chase. “He’s afraid you’ll kick his ass. Tell Jake you don’t care about me.”
“Kiss her.”
“You don’t want this,” Jake warned. “Trust me, tomorrow will be bad enough.”
“I need t
o know she can do her job. Now kiss her.”
“She won’t fail, just like I didn’t let you fail. But what the hell.” Jake sighed and turned to her. His lips were firmer than Chase’s but less insistent, less hot. She leaned in and opened her mouth, letting his tongue in, half-hearted in letting her tongue explore his mouth. Then they broke the kiss.
“You’ll both die if you kiss like that.”
The part of Kate that fired the original blaze snapped at Chase’s critique. She had never seen red before, but she knew what the expression meant now as her vision blurred. Chase wanted to punish himself? Then she would offer him punishment. God knew he deserved it for being the cold-hearted snake he was.
She stood and dragged Jake to his feet by his shirt collar. Then she pushed him to the couch, straddled his lap, and kissed him with all of the hatred she felt for Chase. Her mouth was hot, demanding, and instead of hating Chase, she pictured him, imagined his lips under hers, his tongue in her mouth, his hand on her breast.
Jake groaned as he responded, his mouth sliding against hers, wicked in a different way from Chase’s. She ran her hands over his shirt, kneading his chest, appreciating his more muscular form. She ground her crotch against his, riding the ridge of his hard-on, then she grabbed his hands and held them to her hips, encouraging him to take part. Why not? Chase didn’t want her any longer. He proved that.
“Enough,” Chase commanded.
Jake went to break the kiss, and she hauled him back with her hand in his blond hair, her mouth more insistent, her hand sliding down between them to cup his cock in her hand—
“Enough!”
She grabbed Jake’s hard cock and squeezed, then broke the kiss, panting as she stared into Jake’s startled blue eyes. She’d done her job. Jake’s gaze was filled with lust, his breathing just as ragged as hers.
“Jesus,” Jake whispered, glancing over her shoulder at Chase, then back at her. “You’re going to kill him, Kate. Don’t do this to him. He has his reasons, and he has every right to go here, as bad as this hurts.”
“He doesn’t give a fuck.” She climbed off Jake’s lap and finally turned to Chase. Fury boiled under the surface of his perfect features, his lips thin, his eyes glittering. Her old self—Emma—would have been terrified. His anger stoked Kate’s defiance, Kate’s anger. “Did I convince you?”
Chase swallowed, the proverbial mask returning, a little askew, but in place. “You’ll live.”
“Are you sure? I’ll fuck him if you command it, sir.”
“Kate,” Jake whispered. “This is part of the job. He has no choice, and I’m telling you, he’s right.”
“Really?” She turned to Jake, then back to Chase. “In the real world, I would expect my boss to think that if I was up for a job, then I would have been trained appropriately. I would be able to complete it without having to degrade myself in his office. So I want to know. Who are you right now—my boss or my lover?”
“Your boss.”
“Wrong. This is something a lover would do out of spite, so he could convince himself that what he had to do was the right thing, that commanding me to hate him was the right thing.”
Chase remained tight-lipped, so she turned back to Jake. “How many times have you kissed a woman in front of him, for job-related missions?”
Jake looked away.
“See?” She turned back to Chase. “You want me to hate you, so it will be easier for you. You watch us because it hurts, and that makes it easier for you. You said I was too much Emma, and I’m letting you know right now, I am all Kate. So I ask you again, do you want me to fuck him, sir?”
“Get out.” Chase’s voice was barely a whisper, his face unreadable, but a droplet of blood ran from his finger where the paper clip bit into his skin. She stared at the blood. Maybe this bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Maybe he cared, just a little. “Did you hear me? I said to get out.”
She did as she was told, hating Chase, hating herself, and mostly, hating this job of theirs.
Chase watched Kate go and closed his eyes for a moment, hating this damned job. She was right about some of it. Yes, he’d made her kiss Jake to feel the pain, to make it easier on him if she didn’t return. But a part of him was terrified she’d freeze in action, like he did in Paris, and it would get her killed. Jake had saved his life then. Expecting him to save hers, too, was asking a lot.
Chase narrowed his gaze at his friend. He wanted to kill Jake, throttle him with his bare hands, but it wasn’t Jake’s fault. He was caught in the middle. Chase found a bandage in his top desk drawer and wrapped it around his finger, wishing the physical pain deadened the pain he felt inside. But it didn’t.
After what seemed like endless minutes, Jake said, “I’m sorry.”
“Why? She’s the brat. You did as you were instructed.”
“You have to tell her.”
Chase shoved the desk drawer closed. “Tell her what? And leave Paris out of this. You gave your word to keep silent.”
Jake stabbed a hand in his blond hair, running it through the strands. “Tell her that you changed the mission, and this is the only option for her to return. You just asked her to do the impossible—make out hot and heavy with her work partner—your friend, let him beat the shit out of her, and I know you told her where she stands as far as expendability, because you’re an asshole like that. Give her a bone, man. Give her some hope.”
“What will it change? Besides the fact that I could get in a hell of a lot of trouble for sharing those details with you. You have much higher clearance. Imagine the general’s wrath when he discovers I just went and spilled all to her. She’s expendable.” Chase was terrified of his uncle, but the idea of Kate loving him, leaving him, dying, was enough to stand by his decision to let her think he was the bad guy. It was much easier. For both of them.
“Then you need to tell her how you feel about her, so she understands something. Christ, Chase, you think you’re hurting?” Jake pointed at the door. “You just annihilated her. Killed every hope and dream she ever had about you. I can take it. I’ve done this a long time, and I know where our friendship stands. But you’re not going to have a woman to go home to if you don’t say something.”
“Isn’t it better for her to think I hate her? That this is easy for me to do?” Because if she knew I loved her and did this, it would be so much worse.
“And if she doesn’t return? You want her to die thinking you hated her, used her, and she was nothing but a task for you? Damn, I’ll do my best to bring her back, but what if? Once she leaves that cell, I have no control. That madman can beat her, rape her, slit her throat, or give her the keys to his castle. I can’t do a thing, Chase.”
And that was exactly what scared the shit out of Chase. Even sending Jake, he had no control of the outcome. It all came down to what he’d trained her to do. If she died, it would be his fault because he hadn’t done his best. “I need to make a rule that drinking at work is now approved.”
“You don’t need to drink. You need to be honest. This is going to kill you, Chase. Just tell her.”
Chapter Fourteen
Late that evening, Kate opened the door to Chase’s house, exhausted, drained, and terrified at what she’d find when she walked inside. She had pushed Chase more than she had a right to, had taken her kiss with Jake too far. And now that her anger had cooled, she was sorry.
It didn’t help that Chase had warned her she’d hate him as a boss. He’d been very, very clear on that, and she had ignored his warnings. He’d never gone into any detail about how he felt about her, ever, but she thought she’d read that he cared in the way he kissed her after he’d given her multiple orgasms, the way he held her tight, as if he was afraid to let her go. The way he’d refused to force himself on her and instead made love to her, claiming her like he’d never claimed her before.
She shut the door and leaned against it, listening. It was late. They’d kept her forever with their notes, tests, gadgets, advice. Jake had
sat with her, holding her hand as she said nothing, just absorbing what she had to do to come home.
To what, though? Chase didn’t want her, had only fucked her to get her ready for this. And as if on cue she’d think about this during the day and Chase would pop in, see her hand in Jake’s and then walk away, and that made her even more sad.
It shouldn’t kill her that Chase had known the extent of the plan—hell, the plan had been his—but it did. He knew, right from the moment he’d taken her virginity, where this mission was going. He’d handed her over to Jake, watched as Jake worked his magic, allowing her to slowly adapt to him so she could do this. None of it was right. Normal. Yet, he’d done it all behind that stupid mask of his, so unemotional, uncaring.
God damn Chase. She wanted him to care. She needed him to show it. She needed him to be sorry. There had to be something there that would prove that her love for him was justified. That he was the man she believed him to be, just hidden, unable to surface.
Chase came out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a rag, pausing as he entered the foyer. She met his eyes and wished she could read him better. Par for the course, she had no idea what he was feeling. No idea if he was gearing up to say he was sorry or to boot her to the curb or just turn his back and walk away, because she was expendable.
He stood, so still, as if he were stone instead of the man she loved. He was always so beautiful, even in plain old jeans and a polo shirt, an apron covering most of him. What should she do? Turn and run—that’s what she wanted most.
No, she wanted to sink into his arms and cry and wish the hands on the clock would turn back to that first weekend when he so sweetly made love to her for the first time and looked at her as if she were a special gift, just for him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, to break the ice, honestly sorry she’d pushed the boundaries.
An expression flitted across his face, too quick for her to name. He yanked off the apron and tossed it into the kitchen. He crossed the foyer and pulled her to him, kissing her, his mouth fierce, hard, more than demanding. Desire exploded inside, the shock waves vibrating through her limbs, the impact triggering her need. Dampness pooled between her thighs, her pussy instantly ready for him.