by S. M. Butler
“I wasn’t—” she stopped because there was no defense for that. “Sorry,” she grumbled instead.
“What was that?” he stared at her.
“I’m not saying it again,” she snapped, straightening up.
As she started to go, the cane hit the wall beside her. “Just a sec.”
She started, jumping back a step and then glared at Jordan. “Excuse me?”
“No,” he said. “Why were you following me, Penny?”
“No reason,” she replied. “I saw you dip into the alley and didn’t come out and I thought maybe you fell or something. That’s all.”
He took a step closer to her, his head tilted curiously. His cologne filled her nostrils, all spice and sex. She turned toward him, which proved to be a mistake. He leaned on his forearm against the wall, trapping her. The brick bit into her back. “Why did you walk right into an alley where there is nothing except me?”
“I told you the reason,” she said weakly. Even she didn’t believe what she was saying.
“Liar,” he whispered. He leaned his other forearm against the wall behind her, caging her. Where the hell did his cane go? His face was only a few inches from hers as he murmured, “Maybe you wanted me to see you.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she replied, trying to turn her face away from him, but only succeeded in exposing the side of her neck, which he took full advantage of, nuzzling against her.
His scruffy jaw scratched along her skin. Normally, she wasn’t a fan of facial hair, but his perpetual scruff was starting to really grow on her. Her body shuddered without permission and he chuckled. “Someone feeling a little… lonely?”
“Not at all,” she said.
“What if we reenacted the alley from your birthday right here?” he whispered against her ear. His breath fanned the little wisps of hair around her ear.
All at once, the temperature in her body skyrocketed. Her cheeks flushed hard as her core ached with want. How did he elicit such a reaction from her? He only had to touch her, and her body was all on board with the whole sex thing. Somehow, they’d gotten themselves into this competition to see who would crack first and she so wanted to be the one to cave, and yet, her pride refused to allow her to do so.
“It’s broad daylight,” she said. “Someone will see.” Because that was why this whole thing was wrong. Because it was daylight.
“Hmm,” he rumbled. “Then I guess we need to do something else that isn’t as visible.”
She stared at him. What the hell did that mean?
As Penny’s jaw unhinged with surprise, he took advantage. Her lips were soft and warm, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth without apology, without hesitation. After sitting in that damn surveillance room watching for anything of her, he was strung up tight. He hadn’t actually expected her when he’d taken the dip into the alley. He’d caught on to someone following him, but he really thought it might be one of the older women from the town again.
She broke the kiss, panting as her dark eyes turned to fire right before his gaze. “I thought you were a gentleman?”
He smiled as he slid his hand up her inner thigh. “Fuck that. I need you.” Then his lips were on hers again, his tongue sliding into her mouth as his fingers smoothed over her soft cotton panties. Thank goodness she was wearing a skirt.
He wanted inside her more than he wanted his next breath. Fuck breathing.
As he rubbed her sex over her panties, she moaned his name, breaking the kiss to bite her lower lip. Back and forth, he stroked her. “Someone’s going to see, Jordan.” But her head dropped back against the wall and she made no move to stop him.
“Doesn’t seem like you care too much if they do, love,” he replied. He smiled as he fingered the top of her waistband, the skirt covering his hand as he dipped into her panties. Then his fingers were on her hot flesh and he groaned, his cock straining at his zipper, begging for the chance to be buried in her bare flesh. She dug her fingertips into his shoulders as he rubbed against that bundle of nerves he was dying to lick.
He wanted to see her come apart. Just once, right here. Where anyone in the world could see them. He kissed her again, because if he didn’t, he was going to be on his knees tongue-fucking her.
“Do you like that, darlin’?” he asked against her mouth, sliding his fingers along her wet flesh. They always seemed to end up in this position, where they were engaged in some sort of sexual confrontation. Normally, he had such better self-control, but she brought out this animal inside him. “You know what I want, right?”
She moaned, maybe a little too loudly.
He pressed his wet finger to her lips. “Shh,” he chuckled. “Someone will hear you.”
“Jordan,” she whispered. “I need—Please.”
Her cheeks were flushed. Her fingers dug into his shirt so hard he was almost sure she’d rip it. He ran his tongue along the column of her neck. Then he slid his hand back into her panties, stroking along her slit faster and faster, letting his knuckle brush against her clit. “Give me what I want.”
He slid his finger in circles around her clit, brushing against it, avoiding it, alternating the motions and her fingers dug into his shoulder harder and harder. Slowly, he slid one finger into her pussy, and his knees nearly buckled. She was so wet, so tight against his finger, and he wanted inside her so badly his cock ached for it.
“Oh, fuck!” she breathed, her fingers biting into his shoulders as if it would steady her.
He pumped his finger in and out of her, his knuckle brushing against her clit again and again. Her legs trembled as her pussy got wetter. Those panties were in the way of what he truly wanted. He glanced at the entrance to the alley. It was so open here. Anyone could see them. And somehow, that got him even hotter as he dropped to his knees, ignoring the awkward pain that came with his leg.
She moaned as he pulled his fingers free of her and then slid down her panties. He shoved them in his pocket and hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. The motion opened her up perfectly, like a fucking flower. Or a flower he wanted to fuck. He didn’t couldn’t even think straight seeing the heaven before him.
He lifted her skirt and shoved his face into her pussy, licking the sweet wetness. He thrust his tongue into her entrance and swirled it around, reveling in her sweet taste. She moaned louder, her legs trembling as she struggled to keep the volume down on her moans. He licked and licked until he thought she might be ready to explode. Then he sucked in that sweet little bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue over it, again and again. Her fingers clamped on his hair, her legs closed around his head, leaving him to hold her steady. She bit her lip and arched her back, which only gave him more access to suck on her.
She rode his face for a good thirty seconds before she slumped back against the wall. He felt rather proud of himself as she tried to regain her breath. His cock was in a ridiculous state, aching and painful with the need for her warmth. But they were standing in an alley and he’d just had his head up her skirt, where anyone could have seen them, and she’d been far from quiet.
What kind of power did this woman have over him that he was ready to do it again already?
He pushed himself away, across the alley so he could use the wall to get to his feet. His cane. Where was that thing? He found it on the ground a few feet from her. He picked it up and glanced at Penny.
She hadn’t moved. She was staring at him, actually. He couldn’t tell if she was displeased or not. Honestly, she looked like she was in some sort of trance.
“I’m not going to say I’m sorry,” he said, pointing the cane at her. “You could have stopped me any time you wanted.” Hell, if she’d said no at any point, he’d have stopped on a dime.
“What is with us?” she asked finally, even as her chest heaved up and down like she’d run a marathon.
“What d’you mean?”
“Every time we come in contact with each other, it ends in sex.”
“We haven’t had sex. Not since your birthd
ay.” Semantics, really. But he intended to rectify that mistake shortly.
She pushed off the wall but stopped before she took a step. She blushed. “Can I have my panties back now?”
“Come home with me,” he said suddenly.
“My underwear, please?” She held her hand out expectantly.
“Come back with me. I’ll make you dinner.” She blinked. Oh, lord, they were a pair, weren’t they? He chuckled. “I promise, I won’t molest you before I feed you.”
“Keep them if they’re that important to you,” she snapped, heading for the entrance to the alley.
He grabbed her arm and nearly lost his footing when he tried to put weight on his bad leg. “Please, Penny. This isn’t about the blooming underwear, for fuck’s sake.”
“What is it about, Jordan? Did you enjoy your little power trip?” She groaned, the frustration practically echoing in her voice. “You’re so aggravating.”
“You’re right. We always end up like this. So… have dinner with me. Let’s talk for once.”
“Really? Talk?” She frowned. “What makes you think that I want to?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m asking you.” He pulled her panties out of his pocket and placed them in her hand, closing her fingers around the fabric. “No coercion. Just a date. I’m asking you on a date.”
She glanced down at her hand, at the light blue fabric in her hand. His heart thumped wildly with each second she didn’t answer. She was going to refuse. He could see it in her face. They had great sexual chemistry. She couldn’t deny that, but he found himself needing more from her, wanting more. He wasn’t sure how to handle that feeling in his chest, but he couldn’t not explore it.
Truly, this was probably a worse mistake than anything else, considering she’d been a mark in the last mission. But again, he couldn’t help himself. The more time he spent around her, the more she showed her teeth and snarled, the more he wanted to be with her even more. He loved just how much she matched him at every turn, how she challenged him.
She crumpled the panties in her hand then smoothly shoved them back in his jeans pocket. “Give them back to me later, okay?” She started toward the street and then glanced back at him. “I hope you don’t suck at cooking as much as you suck at asking people out on dates.”
16
Sam Alcott logged into the computer and pulled up the surveillance from Jubilee. He’d been watching that town for days, since the girl had gone home for the holidays. He wasn’t sure why Reilly hadn’t brought her back in yet, but he was getting tired of waiting.
His chest ached for blood, ached for the pain he needed to inflict.
He rubbed his chest as he scrolled through the images. He needed to figure out a way to speed this along before the pain in his chest got unbearable. He already had the beginnings of the next attack, the pain that would grip him so tightly his head would spin.
He groaned and shut the laptop. He had to get this ache under control before he lost his grip on reality. He stood up and walked down the corridor to the room where he held the guard from the break-in.
He pushed the door open and shut it quietly behind him.
On the table, the guard was turned on his stomach, his hands outstretched over his head and connected to a chain. His legs were bound the same way, the chains wound around the table legs.
The clothes were bloody and torn, some of it dried to his skin.
It was likely an infection would set in soon in one of the open wounds, but Sam didn’t care to prolong the man’s life. He walked around and knelt in front of the man’s gagged face. The eyes were alert, watching him with quiet whimpers escaping his muffled mouth.
He said nothing as he studied the man. He was in decent shape still, so he had days ahead of him before Sam would have to consider where his next source of relief would come. He’d hoped by the time this one gave out, he would have the girl in his custody.
Yet Reilly had not brought her in, and it was looking less like he would.
He growled and stood, running his fingers along the bare back, where he’d done most of his work so far. He loved the back. So much expanse of skin, like a giant canvas to work on. Now, it was a mess of blood and skin.
It was kind of apropos that he was doing this work beneath an art gallery. Because this was the masterpiece he was working on. He picked up the knife from the other table, reveling in the soft whimper from the canvas chained to the table. He slid the flat of the knife against the man’s cheek.
“It’s close,” he whispered. His cock grew hard against his slacks as he placed the knife beneath the gag and yanked it forward, tearing through it. The fabric fell away. “Don’t hold back this time.”
He cupped his balls, realigning them so it was less uncomfortable. The ache in his chest pulsed with anticipation as he began cutting into the back, watching as the blade sliced open new wounds. The man beneath screamed, so goddamned loud that the walls echoed back his incoherent roars of pain.
Blood lust roared in Sam’s veins, in the ache in his chest that demanded more, in his cock that wanted to fuck something, anything to alleviate the ache of desire. But he’d get to that ache later. This one—the one in his chest—that one was far more important. It kept him in check, kept him from losing control. He had to keep that ache fed or he would be useless.
So, he kept cutting into the man’s back, listening to the screams of pain and horror. Reilly knew he liked this part, encouraged him to keep this part of him fed through careful contributions of his enemies. Lewis had never let him indulge, but Reilly… he always got the best canvases from his boss.
He smiled as he cut away the last of the man’s clothes, leaving him bare to the cold air of the room. The legs next, he thought. Yes, they were still clean and free of wounds.
He twisted the knife in his hand and tilted his head as someone knocked on the door.
He frowned and looked at the whimpering man beneath him. “Hold that thought, okay? I’ll be right back.”
He went to the door and opened it. One of his guards stood stiffly outside it. Like the ninny he was, he didn’t look inside, though Sam let him have full view as he pushed open the door the rest of the way. “What is it?”
“We’ve identified the other man in the break-in,” he said. “We finally found an angle they didn’t manage to avoid. Ran the image through the system.”
Alcott’s brow rose. “Really? Who?”
“Scott Muldoon,” he said.
“The turncoat,” Sam breathed. He grinned. This was perfect. The weak link. And yet, he didn’t like the idea of that man anywhere near his computers. What a guy like that could do… it could jeopardize the plan. He needed Reilly to get to Hawk. But if Muldoon got into the computers, he could feasibly bring Reilly down before Alcott was ready for it.
He tossed the knife to the door and stepped out into the hallway. The guard looked down at Sam’s hands and quickly looked away. Not many of them had the stomach for the kind of work Sam had to do. He was okay with that, because it kept them in line, the fear that they would be the next on the table.
The guard held out a tablet to him. He took it and scanned the files. A picture of Muldoon was on one side, his details beneath. It was an older picture, by a couple of years. But for a while, they’d thought Muldoon dead after Hawk had taken him.
The other image was grainy. The hair was longer, the face unshaven and the eyes… even in the surveillance quality photo, he could see the darkness that resided inside.
That Muldoon was out and about now was interesting. Hawk had a new angle to use and lord over Muldoon. What was it and could Alcott use it as well? If there was one constant in this world, it was that no one did anything for free. There was always a price to pay. There was always a cost. What was Muldoon’s cost?
“Sir?” the guard said quietly.
Sam’s gaze shot up to the guard. “Can you find him?”
He shook his head. “He’s a ghost.”
Sam laughed. “That
… he’s not. Find him and bring him to me. I’ll handle it myself.”
The guard nodded and ducked away, leaving the tablet behind as he hastened down the hall.
Sam stared at the picture of Muldoon on the screen. Then he brought up the picture of Levi from the video of the break-in. Looking at them side by side, he crossed his arms. What would tie the two back together after Muldoon’s treachery? What would make them work together?
Answer that question and he’d have the key to all of them. What unified a group like the Reapers could also tear them apart if their anchor was ripped out from under them.
The ache in his chest returned as he stepped back into the room and shut the door behind himself.
Right. He had his own anchor to handle at the moment. He gave the two men a last look before he set the tablet down on the far table and walked back over to where his canvas was already sobbing. He let a slow smile spread across his face as he picked his knife back up and went back to work.
17
Jordan set Ralph’s bowl back on the floor. The hungry animal pounced right on it while Jordan moved around the kitchen. He still needed the cane to move around and that irritated him greatly. He’d never been good at sitting still, and maybe that was why he’d suggested dinner. It gave him something to do.
It had been two days since their encounter in the alley. His entire body was alive and twitchy, ripe with anticipation of the night. He knew inside that this was the worst thing he could do, knowing what he’d done the night they’d met. But for some reason, he couldn’t seem to stop himself when it came to Penny. And it wasn’t just because he wanted her again, though he did. He found himself wanting to know all the things that weren’t in her file. Like why she went by Penny instead of Penelope. Like that she had a soft spot for dogs like Ralph. Like the little moans she made when she was in the throes of sexual pleasure.
Shit. He wanted more than just sex with her—and that was a scary prospect indeed. When had he ever considered a woman for more than that physical connection? Or for what she could provide him? He’d stolen from so many, conned many more, and yet, he didn’t want to do any of that to Penny. He simply wanted to be with her.