“You sure know how to sweet talk a girl,” she said, her voice breathless.
“If you think that’s sweet, just wait.” I picked her up, bringing her breasts to mouth level. I wrapped my lips around her nipple, and she moaned my name, the sound making every part of me go impossibly hard. I worried at the sensitive flesh with my teeth as I walked us over to the bed.
I dropped us both onto the bed, catching myself on my elbows to keep from crushing her. Her legs locked around my waist and I rocked against her, letting friction work for both of us.
“I meant it when I said I want to come in you.” I lowered my head and lightly bit her jaw. “I’d like nothing more than to take you right now, a few quick movements and then buried inside you, skin to skin.”
She whimpered, and I rocked harder against her, giving her a quick, hard kiss. She trembled beneath me, and as I raised my head, her eyes were wide and dark.
“Can you come like this?” I asked her, my voice rough. “Come for me, Tess. Let me see that beautiful face of yours when you orgasm.”
My cock rubbed painfully against my zipper as I ground down on her, but then she shuddered, my name coming out in a gasp. Fuck, she was gorgeous when she came.
By the time she came back to her senses, I had us both naked and my face between her thighs. I’d missed this last night, and I wasn’t about to make that mistake again.
“Clay, what – fuck!”
The musky, salty taste of her burst across my taste buds, and I immediately wanted more. My tongue moved between her soft, silky folds like it had in her mouth a short while ago. Her fingers tightened in my hair as she pulled and pushed, seemingly unable to decide if she wanted me closer or farther away. I simply tightened my grip on her hips and buried my tongue deeper inside her.
My cock throbbed as I pressed it against the bed, wanting relief, but not willing to give up my position just yet. I needed to feel her come again, taste her when she exploded on my face. Only after that happened would I slide inside her. Not skin to skin like I wanted, but I’d still feel her take me in, grip me.
One hand disappeared from my head, and a moment later, I heard a muffled scream. Her back arched and her thighs clamped down on my head. I flicked my tongue against her clit in rapid back-and-forth movements that had her thrashing on the bed, hands smacking against the bedspread as her entire body shook.
When her body finally went limp, I raised my head and looked up the slender line of her. Her skin glistened with sweat, her lips swollen and nipples hard little points. I’d always thought she was beautiful, but when she was like this…I’d never seen anyone like her before.
I kept my eyes on her as I grabbed a condom and rolled it on. It was probably a good thing I wasn’t going in bare. I doubted I’d last more than two strokes that way.
“Wow,” she said with a laugh. “I never thought it’d feel like that.”
“What?”
“Oral sex.” Her cheeks were flushed, but I didn’t think it was from embarrassment. “I didn’t think it would feel like that.”
“I take that to mean you enjoyed it.” I couldn’t help but sound a little smug. It wasn’t every day I got to introduce a beautiful woman to the pleasures of oral sex.
“You want me to return the favor?” Her smile was suddenly shy. “I don’t have any experience, but I’m sure you could teach me.”
I was suddenly torn. I wanted to be inside her, but the thought of being the first person in her mouth, teaching her all the ways to use her lips and tongue, seeing how deep she could take me…fuck if it wasn’t a real bitch to choose between the two.
“As tempting as that is,” I said as I crawled up her body, “I’m not sure I have the stamina for both your mouth and your pussy.”
“Then the lesson will have to wait,” she said, reaching up to pull my head down for a kiss. As her tongue slid along mine, she made a surprised sound, and I knew she tasted herself. She didn’t pull away though.
Without breaking the kiss, I reached down and lifted her hips. With one smooth thrust, I buried myself inside her, and the two of us froze in the moment, our bodies coming together in a way that was different from last night, but still felt perfectly right.
“Clay,” she gasped into my mouth. “Move, please.”
I took her bottom lip between my teeth, tugging on it as I made careful, deliberate strokes.
“More.” Her hips rose to meet mine. “Don’t hold back.”
I grasped her thigh, holding her in place for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Something flashed across her eyes and then was gone. “You won’t.”
She was telling the truth. I could see it on her face, feel it in her body. She wanted me, all of me, and I wanted all of her. And for the next few hours, I’d see that neither one of us held back.
Twenty-Three
Tess
I had bruises on my hips, and every muscle in my body ached, even ones I hadn’t realized I possessed. I closed my eyes as I moved under the hot water, letting it work into my sore muscles. Images from last night flashed through my mind rapid-fire, all of them reasons why my entire body felt like I’d been taken apart and put back together.
After I’d asked Clay not to hold back, he’d taken me hard and fast, rocketing me to a climax so explosive that I’d, passed out. That hadn’t been the last time we’d fucked either. And that’s what it had been for hours. Fucking. And that was exactly what we’d both needed.
When I wiped the steam from the mirror to allow me to finish getting ready, I was surprised at the dark smudges under my eyes and how swollen my lips still were. Some of the swelling had been from rough kisses, but a portion was the result of him showing me how he wanted to use my mouth.
I needed to stop thinking about that. About the taste and weight of him on my tongue. The feel of his hand in my hair, guiding me into taking him deeper. The soft cotton of the sheets against my nipples as he took me from behind.
“Fuck,” I whispered, dropping my head forward. I’m not here for Clay. I’m here for Bri. I can have fun with Clay, but that’s all it is. Fun.
I took a couple steadying breaths and then finished getting dressed. I’d left Clay’s room around midnight, and we hadn’t said anything about what we were going to do today. I, however, had already come up with a plan of what I thought should be our next step. I didn’t think Clay was going to take off on me again, but I refused be passive about this and just wait and see. If everything Clay had said yesterday about my family was right, I was through going along with things. I was through being passive in my life.
My heartbeat was more rapid than I liked as I walked across the hall and knocked on Clay’s door. I didn’t want to bring back up everything that we’d been yelling about yesterday, especially not after the night we’d had together, but I needed him to understand that we were going to work this through together.
I stared as he opened the door, momentarily forgetting that I wasn’t supposed to be distracted by washboard abs and sexy bed-head.
“You’re up early.” He stepped aside to let me come into his room, then shut the door as he rubbed his eyes.
“We need to go back to that house.”
Watching him try to clear the sleep from his brain was annoyingly adorable, made even worse by the fact that I couldn’t drop my eyes from his face because that just led me to his defined chest and the dark hair I’d felt on my cheek last night when I’d rested my head there. Lower still was even worse now that I knew exactly where that trail of hair led when it disappeared under the waistband of his boxers.
“Say that one more time,” he said as he grabbed a pair of jeans from his duffel bag.
We were going to need to do laundry if we were here much longer, I realized. The days had passed a lot more quickly than I’d anticipated.
“The house we both were doing recon on yesterday, we need to go back there.” I didn’t mention the fact that we hadn’t gotten much recon done yesterday. If I could avoid an awkward morning-a
fter conversation, I would.
“How did you find the house?” he asked.
“I followed the guy with the birthmark.”
Clay frowned as he put on a shirt, and I tried not to be disappointed at the loss of scenery. He sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for me to join him. The bed had far too many memories of last night, so I chose to take the chair, but that just gave me a view of him on the bed, which didn’t help anything.
“How did you find him?”
The question helped me focus. “He came to The Black Cat not long after you left yesterday.”
“I didn’t see you there.”
I flushed and looked away, grateful that my skin tone hid most of the color. “I was across the street.” A moment of awkward silence passed before I continued, “Anyway, he was in there about thirty minutes, and when he came back out, I followed him.”
“That doesn’t seem like much time for a drink,” Clay said. “Why walk all the way to a bar, go in for half an hour, then leave? It takes almost that long to walk from the house to the bar.”
“There are also two other bars between the two,” I said. “We walked right past them, and he didn’t even pause.”
“That makes sense,” Clay said, nodding. “I’ll bet it has something to do with the fact that the guy who ran the former dealers in that neighborhood drinks at The Black Cat.”
“Where’d you hear that?” I asked.
“The bartender. He’s the one who told me about the cartel moving in.” Clay paused, and I could tell he was considering whether to tell me something. “He also said that a group of Red Care workers went into that neighborhood around the time Brianne’s group fell off the radar.”
I pressed my hands together and hoped my expression didn’t betray the cold knot that had just settled in my belly. Brianne’s group being missing was bad enough. Thinking that they’d encountered a Colombian drug cartel was a scenario I’d never even considered.
“I worked with the DEA on a couple joint tasks forces a few years back,” Clay said. “Even then, the Colombians were moving into other South American countries to give themselves access to different ports and customs officials.”
“Do you think they…” I swallowed hard. “Do you think the cartel killed them?”
Clay’s expression was grim, but not hopeless. “I think chances are on our side that they’re alive. My guess is that the cartel is biding their time, trying to figure out the best way to use the hostages.”
I really didn’t want to think about all the ways that statement could be taken, but they rushed into my head anyway. Thoughts of human trafficking, sex slaves, drug mules, came one right after the other and I staggered under the weight. Black spots danced in front of my eyes and my lungs burned with the need for oxygen.
Suddenly, Clay was there, kneeling in front of me, one hand on my cheek, the other on my knee.
“Breathe, Tess,” he said calmly. “Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”
I did as he said.
“Slow, deep breaths. You don’t want to hyperventilate. Nice and easy.”
I fell into the soothing rhythm of his voice and let it hypnotize me. Gradually, the iron fist squeezing my lungs eased, and I breathed easier. Clay’s hand had moved to the back of my neck at some point, and his fingers massaged the tight muscles there. The heat that radiated out from his touch should have made me more tense, not less, but despite everything strained between us, he grounded me.
I straightened and opened my eyes to find him peering anxiously at me. “Better,” I said, managing a small but genuine smile. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” He stood, then bent and kissed my forehead. “I’m actually surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.”
“Because I’m so sheltered?” The question came out more plaintive than insulted, and I wondered if I’d always known, deep down, the truth that Clay had opened my eyes to.
“No,” he said. “Because you’re a journalist who’s worried about her sister, not someone who’s been trained to handle these sorts of situations.”
A small masochistic part of me wanted to ask if he thought Rona would have had a panic attack, but I didn’t want to know the answer, so I kept my mouth shut.
On that topic anyway.
“I’m still going with you back to that house.”
He sighed. “Believe me, I figured out that nothing’s going to keep you from doing what you want to do.”
Inside the annoyance, I also heard a bit of admiration, maybe even some pride.
“We need a plan,” he said. “And we need to stick with that plan. No improvising without talking to the other person.”
I opened my mouth, but he beat me to it.
“Yes, that goes both ways. I’m more familiar with this sort of operation, which I think makes me the logical choice to lead the recon.” He waited, clearly expecting me to argue with him about it.
“As long as you don’t cut me out or treat me like a child, I’m good with you being in charge.”
He looked pleasantly surprised, and it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I wasn’t as difficult as he thought. Better to show him than tell him, I decided. Anyone was able to say the words. Action was what really mattered.
* * *
It was late afternoon, closing in on sundown when we left The Black Cat and headed back to the hotel. We’d been all over the neighborhood, continuing to play up the ignorant and obnoxious tourists, while gathering whatever information we could. Sometimes, we’d drifted away from each other to better talk to someone who probably wouldn’t have confided in a couple, but we always came back together, careful to make our interactions look lazy and unplanned. By the time we’d arrived at the bar to compare notes and keep up appearances, Clay had looked as exhausted as I’d felt.
Still, it had been worth it.
“Do you think the authorities here know?”
I’d been waiting for hours to ask the question, but I’d kept it to myself until we were in Clay’s room. That wasn’t the sort of thing we wanted someone to overhear.
“It’s hard to say,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. He gave a sigh of relief and sank down in the chair. “There’s definitely corruption. The fact that it’s a well-known secret that the Colombians have settled in the city and barely any arrests have been made tells me that someone pretty high up is shielding them.”
I shook my head, repressing the desire to kick something. I’d just hurt myself, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good. “I worked a story on police corruption in New York my first year out of college, and I thought it would change things. Some people got fired, trees were shaken, that sort of thing, but less than a year later and everything I’d helped dismantle was back in place with new people calling the shots.”
“It’s frustrating,” Clay agreed. “I’ve seen this same cycle in drugs, prostitution, money laundering, organized crime, you name it.”
“What’s the point then?” I asked as I sat down on the floor and leaned my head back on the foot of the bed. “Why bother?”
“For people like Brianne,” he answered simply. “For her and the rest of that group who are suffering simply because they’d wanted to help people. We do what we do to keep others safe for as long as possible.”
I let his words sink in. He was right. I’d gotten into journalism because I’d wanted to make a difference. Sometimes that difference was just to entertain, to get readers’ minds off all the shit the world had to offer. And sometimes, it was the tough stuff everyone else wanted to sweep under the rug.
“I know we didn’t get close enough to see the group for ourselves,” Clay said, breaking the silence, “but I think we have enough confirmation from people to say we know for certain that a group of American Red Care workers are being held hostage by the cartel in that house.”
“I agree.” I rubbed my forehead. “What if it’s not Brianne’s group?”
“Then we stay here to look for her after we get
this group out.”
I liked that he’d said we like it wasn’t even a consideration that I’d go home without my sister.
But first thing’s first. “How do we get the group out?”
Clay sighed. “If I had a team of agents or even was here on official business, we could take an aggressive stance. Take in a team to neutralize the cartel, hand them over to local authorities, and then send our people home.”
“But we don’t have a team of agents,” I said, looking up at him. “Unless that’s what your plan is, to call in reinforcements. Now that we know what happened, couldn’t you go through official channels?”
“I could,” he said, “but I don’t think that would be a good idea. It would take time to get them here, and it’d be the CIA, not the FBI, which would mean both of us would be out of the actual process.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but I had to think of what was best for Brianne and the others with her.
“And I could still get in a lot of trouble for looking around here. I mean, I’ll take it if it means getting those people out, but if Brianne’s not one of them, I don’t know how I’ll be able to stay in the country and keep looking.”
Valid point.
“Where does that leave us?” I asked.
“I think we need to find out what the cartel wants and offer it to them in exchange.”
“I thought we didn’t negotiate with terrorists,” I said skeptically.
“The US government doesn’t,” he agreed, “but that’s why there are businesses that specialize in kidnapping for ransom cases. And a lot of those happen in South America, especially Colombia. Their priority is always getting the hostage back. They don’t worry about arrests or evidence or due process.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I get where you’re going with this, but there’s a huge difference. We don’t have the resources to hire one of those firms or pay a large enough ransom for a group that size. And that’s not even counting if the cartel wants something other than money.”
Finding Brianne: New Pleasures Book 4 Page 11