by Honey Jans
Telling him that he couldn't just send her away wouldn't work, and neither would blurting out the truth. There had to be another way. Maybe she could seduce him out of it. She looked up at Crispin and gave him her best come-hither smile, knowing she needed to divert him. “I think I need you conscious for what I have planned for you.” She watched the heat flare in Crispin's eyes as she approached him. Good, she was distracting him.
“Same here. But much as I want to fuck you until you can't walk, we need to talk,” he said, reaching out to snag her hand.
Tugged off balance, she tumbled against him with a gasp. And then he pulled her to sit astride him, and she moaned when her bare thighs brushed against his denim-clad ones. Startled, she scowled up at him, but his determined expression said that he wasn't likely to let her go. “Damn it all, Crispin. I am not crazy, so stop manhandling me.”
“I never said that you were crazy,” he said with a half smile. “Only that you were suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome.”
“Oh,” she grumbled but realized he was right. If he made good on his threat to send her away, then they both were toast. She had to talk him out of it, but when she moved, her bare sex ground against him, making them both gasp. “Don't think you're going to distract me with sex,” she said, blushing because that's what she'd been attempting. Then his hot gaze swept over her body, and her nipples budded for him while her sex creamed. The dark flare of his eyes told her he noticed.
“Wouldn't dream of it,” he said, bending to kiss her. “We'll work on your tendency to lie, precious.”
The pet name made her think of rumpled sheets and bare skin. Driving back the memory, she frowned at him. Just what deep, dark secret did he think she was keeping? She had too many of them to count. Then his mouth slanted over hers, and her resistance melted like ice cream on the Fourth of July. Her arms went around his neck, and she gasped as her tingling nipples brushed against his broad chest. He took advantage of her open mouth and surged his tongue inside, demanding her surrender. The still-cognizant part of her mind told her this was no way to negotiate, and she started to pull back.
Feeling her withdrawal, Crispin pushed the pajama top off her shoulders, baring her breasts and restraining her. She grumbled, finding her arms pinned at her sides by the top, but then his hands cupped her breasts, and she moaned, arching her back for him, sticking her breasts out for his touch. And he gave her what she craved, bending to suck one hard nipple into his mouth, drawing on the tingling peak until it was rock hard and she was squirming on his lap. He moved on to pay her other peak the same due, and she became a quivering pile of desire.
Pushing up the pajama top high on her thighs, he bared her sex, lightly stroking her pussy and driving her mad. She knew she was wet and creamy for him, and still, he casually toyed with her. “Please,” she said with a gasp, as her sex throbbed aching for his possession.
“We need to get a few things straight first.”
She knew she was being played, that he was using sex to control her, and the feisty part of her resented it, while the submissive part of her melted. “Such as?”
“No more lies,” he said, giving her clit a pinch.
She let out a gasp as pain and pleasure rocked through her. “Agreed,” she said with a whimper. Out of her mind with desire, she pressed against his tantalizing fingers, begging for more.
“You're mine,” he said with a growl, rolling her clit between his thumb and forefinger. “Say it.”
“I'm yours,” she said with a gasp, arching out at him.
Then he unzipped his pants and entered her in one frantic thrust. “Mine.”
“Yes.” Haley moaned, wrapping her legs around him as Crispin cupped her bottom with his big hands. Holding her still, he controlled the pace, pulling out of her until she sobbed at his retreat and then rocking back into her until he filled her completely. Letting go, melting against him, she rode his passionate flow until he was slamming into her and her sex was milking at him, quivering. Gasping, rippling, tugging at his surging cock, she exploded, seeing stars behind her closed eyes. He surged into her once more with a hoarse cry of completion.
Drifting back to earth on an orgasmic cloud, Haley cuddled against Crispin's hot body, held tight in his arms. Their hearts were beating in tandem, and it made her feel even closer to him. He'd made her promise not to tell him lies. She couldn't go back on the oath. How on earth was she going to complete her mission? Maybe if she proposed a liaison of sorts to solve the crime, she could feed him the bits of data he needed to catch Trevor without breaking the rules. “You know, I have a proposal for you…”
* * * * *
Crispin's arms tightened around Haley. She wanted to marry him. He was stunned. He only wanted to hold on tighter. It echoed his crazy feelings that she was the one woman meant for him. Hell, she wasn't the only one with secrets. He was a loser when it came to love, and he'd sworn he'd never give his heart to anyone again. His ex Melanie hadn't liked it when he'd gone from soldier to journalist. She'd found him too boring. And he realized too late that having him home would get in the way of her screwing around on him. But past mistakes didn't matter when he held Haley in his arms. Besides, he had an odd knowledge that Haley wouldn't cheat on a man she loved. Why was he thinking of the L word so soon?
She felt like forever to him. Even so, he knew it was way too soon for him to be thinking about her that way. Shit, this was probably just another way for her to keep him off balance. The troublesome part was his inclination to hold on tight and put his brand on her. He felt like she'd bewitched him, and worse, he wasn't unhappy at the idea.
At his silence, she stiffened in his arms and then pushed away.
He let her go, taking in her sexily rumpled appearance with masculine assurance. At least he knew she wasn't lying to him when he was doing her. His earthy angel. Her lips were kiss swollen, her nipples rosy, and the scent of sex hung heavy in the air. Foolishly he wanted nothing more than to go in for seconds. But the troubled look on her face stopped him. It wasn't the fury of a jilted woman. Instead he saw embarrassment.
“Um… I hope you didn't think I meant marriage,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. “You might be hot in bed, but I've only known you two days.”
His gut tightened at the rejection, but he nodded calmly at her words. Shit, he'd known she hadn't meant it, so why feel disappointed? But the hungry look in her eyes belied her words. Like she felt him deeply and forever, like he felt her. Wishful thinking, he knew, telling himself to suck it up. “Then what kind of proposal are you making?” he demanded, knowing he sounded gruff. She eased back a little more until she was damned near falling off his lap, and the feeling that he was losing her intensified.
“That we work together as partners to solve this crime,” she said briskly.
That approach he hadn't expected. He understood her need for vengeance, but she didn't know what she was asking. “Sorry. I won't let you put yourself in that sort of danger.”
She frowned up at him. “Before you start pulling your macho, protective act, I might as well tell you that I'm in this with or without you.”
Stubborn woman, but that was part of her charm. He gazed at her, watching her chin rise defiantly. “Then I have some conditions.”
“Such as?” she asked cautiously.
“I have a friend at the FBI. We're going to contact him and get him working with us.” He watched her eyes cloud over for a moment, but then she relented with a nod.
“Fine, but I'm not sure it's a good idea,” she said with a sigh.
He could understand where she was coming from, given her assertion that the fiend who'd attacked her wasn't a copycat. If that were true, the Feds had totally dropped the ball. But Harry, his contact in the FBI, thought outside the box and would also keep his mouth shut. “Trust me on this,” he said and relaxed when she nodded, looking up at him with trust in her eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, wanting to live up to it.
She bent forward to
place a kiss on his jaw. “I do trust you, Crispin.”
“Good,” he said, his arms tightening around her. “Also, if we do this, you have to obey my every command,” he said, his hand sweeping down her back to cup the lush globes of her ass.
She purred, arching her hips out for him. “Of course, master. Your wish is my command.”
He smiled and pulled back his hand to give her a swat. It was going to be a challenge taming her, and he was always up for a challenge. He'd keep her spanked, safe, and satisfied while he caught the bastard who'd dared to touch her.
Chapter Five
Crispin slanted a cautious look Haley's way as he drove them toward the FBI field station, prepared to have her try to bolt, even though she'd agreed to this. She was wearing his clothes because she hadn't wanted to put on the stolen ones. His appreciative glance swept over her in his army T-shirt, shorts, and an old pair of tennis shoes his kid sister had left behind. She looked natural and totally hot. Knowing she was wearing a pair of knit boxers for underwear and no bra made him hard as a rock.
He'd offered to take her shopping after this, and she'd been thrilled, a shocking reaction for a model who'd probably traveled the world. Wherever she came from, she was sure to have a wardrobe that would put anything the local discount store carried to shame, but she didn't even want to discuss sending for her things. One thing was for sure: Haley was a puzzle he needed to figure out.
He'd explained that he had a trusted source at the bureau, but he wasn't sure she'd believed him. After extracting her promise to be truthful, he hadn't detected any lies, but he had felt her trying to hold something back from him. “Now when we get there, I want you to follow my lead.”
“Yes, master,” she sassed with a distracted smile.
“I'm dead serious, sweetheart. I'm not letting you take any chances. You go where I tell you to go, and stay within my sight and on my left side when we get out of the car.”
“So I don't get in the way of your gun hand,” she teased.
She was right. He was armed, but he hadn't planned to tell her, thinking it would alarm her. “I haven't always been a desk jockey, sweetheart.”
When he pulled into the parking lot, she shivered, and he wondered if she was reliving the attack. Hell, if he'd been in her shoes, he'd have been a little crazy too. He hated to have to put her through this, but it was the only way to keep her safe. “If you like, we can ask Harry to come to my place.”
“No. I need to face this.” She sucked in a deep breath, her spine going rigid.
He admired her spunk, even if he wasn't sure that she was up for this. He got out of the vehicle and walked around the car to open her door, frowning at her when she tried to open it on her own. She settled back down and rolled her eyes. So she thought he was being overprotective. It was his prerogative after sleeping with her. She'd placed herself in his hands this morning, and he was holding her to it. A thought of her in leather restraints flashed through his head, and he smiled. He knew just how he'd discipline her if she defied him.
He opened her door, and she spilled into his arms. He listened to her let out a gasp as her sexy curves pressed against him, and felt it all the way to his aching cock. Going around with a semi-hard-on was the price he paid for keeping her near, he reasoned with a wry smile. He gave in to temptation and held her tighter for a moment, reveling in the sensation of her soft curves pressed against him. She seemed to be just as quickly aroused and pressed her mound against the hard ridge of his cock, driving them both nuts. After a moment of bliss, he came to his senses and set her back on her feet. Fun and games could wait until later. Now he had a lover to protect and a killer to apprehend. “Come on. Let's do this, so I can get you home,” he said.
She sighed and turned toward the building.
He reached out to keep her from moving out of range, so that she could stand protected and not get in the way of his gun arm. He was packing, and he had a permit to carry the concealed weapon.
“Aren't you taking the protective bit a little far?” she teased, looking pointedly at his hand on her arm.
“Maybe, but I'm not taking any chances with you,” he said, stepping out with her. “Just listen to me, and I won't have to paddle your sweet ass.”
She grinned. “But what if I want you to? As a matter of fact, there's a whole list of things I'd like to try.”
“Lord, I think I've created a monster,” he teased. “Make your list, sugar, and I'll do my best to live up to it.” Hell, he wanted the same things she did. She was going to wear him out, and he was going to love every minute of it. “Later,” he said, giving her a bold look that made her blush. He watched the rosy color drift down into her cleavage and smiled. He knew that she blushed all over. He couldn't wait to make it happen again. But he had to put his mind back on the mission.
“Come on,” he said, escorting her toward the back of the FBI field agents' office. He nodded at the guard on duty, Milo Forest. Crispin was such a fixture around the place, working on the Scarlet A story, that they didn't even hassle him anymore. It was a good thing in this case, because after giving Haley a curious look, Milo waved them through. When they walked in the back door and into the corridor, he surveyed the crowd and relaxed a bit when he didn't pick up on any troublemakers.
He didn't believe in the second sight his aunt said he had, but he did have good reflexes, and they'd served him well on the battlefront before. He glanced down at Haley, feeling her go tense beside him. “See anything that sets your spidey senses off?” he asked, humoring her.
She shook her head and let out a relieved breath. “No.”
“Good,” he said, feeling just as relieved. When she took a step toward the front desk and his hand on her arm stopped her, it puzzled her.
She gazed up at him questioningly. “Why'd you stop me?”
“I thought you wanted to keep this off the books,” he said, gazing down at her, trying to read her. Until he had good reason not to, he'd let her call the shots. If she wanted all the FBI bells and whistles, she could have them.
She gave him a half smile. “You meant it. I thought you just said that to humor me and get my butt down here.”
“I'll never lie to you, sweetheart.” Her bright smile touched him deep inside, but he knew he had to be tough. “This way,” he said, leading her to a back office. He saw Special Agent Harry Holmes at his desk, doing paperwork. As usual the rogue agent was doing grunt work, probably because he'd managed to piss off a superior. He knocked on the doorway, and Harry looked up. He met Harry's coolly, assessing gray eyes.
Harry's brow arched when he gazed at Haley, his gaze lingering on the faint bruises around her throat. “Is this who I think it is?”
“Harry, meet Haley Aims,” he said in confirmation as he ushered Haley inside and closed the door. He felt Haley's frown at the admission and tried to give her a reassuring smile. She was no doubt questioning his “I'll never lie to you” line, but he'd worry about it later. “Have a seat, sweetheart,” he said, pressing her toward a chair.
She went with a grumble. “You'd better be right about this, stud, or I'll take it out of your hide.”
He smiled as her spunk returned. He knew that Harry could be trusted. “We need to keep this on the QT.”
“That's my specialty,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair. He speared Haley with a probing look. “Is that what you want, Ms. Aims?”
“Call me Haley,” she said with a smile. “If Crispin says you can help me and keep it quiet, I'll believe him.”
Harry looked at Crispin. “You can wait outside.”
Crispin hesitated, not wanting to leave her.
Haley shook her head. “No. I want him to stay.”
“You'll be safe alone with me…” Harry started to say.
“I know that, Harry. But I'll feel better if I keep Crispin with me where I can keep my eye on him. Is that okay?”
“Fine,” he said, giving Crispin a questioning look when he sat down in a chair.
&
nbsp; “I'll keep quiet,” Crispin said, understanding Harry's confusion. It surprised him too that she evidently thought she had to look after him. All he could do was shrug.
Harry gave him a frown, then turned his attention on Haley. “Tell me about last night, Haley.”
Haley let out a sigh and looked down at the floor, avoiding the agent's gaze. “I don't know how specific I can be. It was dark, and I couldn't see his face very well.”
“Do your best,” Harry said.
She nodded, her gaze flicking back up to him. “I was in my dressing room, or should I say my undressing room,” she said wryly, getting Haley Aim's memories. “I was getting ready to shoot a Playmate centerfold. I took a drink of my diet cola and started to feel dizzy. Then this nut caught me by surprise, put me in a choke hold, and pulled me out of the tent and into a clearing. I blacked out and came to, and he was crushing me into the wet ground with his scratchy polyester pants unzipped. He muttered, 'Die, whore, die,' over and over in a monotone, and he smelled like an old, stinky ashtray.” She sucked in a shaky breath, adding, “And he's got spooky, crazy brown eyes, and a scar on his left cheek.”
“How'd you get away?” Harry asked.
“Pure unadulterated rage,” she said with a sigh. “That, and the realization that I couldn't let the crazy, murdering bastard get away with it again made me fight with everything I had.” She shuddered.
“Thank God,” Crispin said and started to reach out for her. She was shaking, and he wanted to comfort her, but Harry shook his head, making Crispin hesitate. He glared at his friend and waited.
“Get away with it again?” Harry asked Haley.
Crispin shrugged. “She thinks it's the same perp.”
“I asked her, not you,” Harry said, then turned to give Haley a questioning look.
Her chin rose as she drew herself up. “I don't just think it. I know it.”
“How so?”
“Would you believe me if I said I was psychic?” she asked with a smirk.