“Not so good for us,” Cael muttered.
“It’s not. Especially since you and Mace were the last ones to see him alive. Plus, all the guys know you have the means a hundred times over. And he threatened Mace’s old lady. Guys in the OA have killed for a hell of a lot less.”
“Keagen, smooth this over.”
“I’m doing what I can.”
Cael passed a tray of shots across the bar and looked back at Keagen. “You know, Cam could probably help you get all the way out if you wanted.”
Cam had once been a member of the OA. Former Delta Force, he now worked with Dylan as a private contractor on black ops missions of their choosing.
“The only way that’s going to happen is if I disappear, brother.” Keagen clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be all right. The OA respects me and I do the same and it’s all good.”
That it’s all good line was probably one of the biggest lies of the goddamned week but Caleb let it go because Keagen’s personal life wasn’t the biggest issue on the agenda at the moment.
Thankfully, none of the OA gang was in here tonight, but a few of their old ladies were. Caleb recognized them as regulars from the past few months.
Before the mission, it had been at least a year since he’d been here.
“Where’s Mace?” one of them called to him. She was a tough-looking woman, not exactly pretty but not ugly either. She wore too-tight jeans and a tank top under a fake-fur-lined leather jacket and she’d been belting back drinks like nobody’s business.
“He’s in the back room,” Caleb said with a smile. “He’s busy.”
“With that girl who kicked Big Harvey in the nuts?” she asked with a wry smile and Caleb just shrugged a little and scanned the room and saw nothing different from how it had been every night since he’d arrived here.
He turned to the sink to grab a rag to wipe down the back counter as Reid walked through the crowd and ducked under the bar. Cael didn’t have to ask where his teammate had been—the man had the remnants of lipstick and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Tell me you didn’t use my bed,” he groaned.
“No comment.” Reid wiped his face with a wet napkin. “Dude, and I thought the Amazon was out of control. Tonight’s like spring break in a trailer park explosion.”
Reid took a corner seat and was once again surrounded by women almost immediately. He was a goddamned pretty boy and he knew it, but he was usually more abrasive than a flirt. Not nearly as abrasive as Kell, though, if memory served. That guy was rude as hell and the women still went for him.
Speaking of women …
“Come on, Cael, let’s warm up the bar.” The pretty brunette named Lucy motioned to him to dance on the bar. Reid and Keagen both looked between him and Vivi, who was at the half-opened door to the back room, still dressed in Paige’s sweater, her hair tucked up so the blue tips didn’t show.
He told himself he needed to put on a show, to make things as normal as possible. And so he joined Lucy, feeling Vivi’s eyes on him, especially when Lucy pulled him close. “I hope you’re going to make up for the other night,” she whispered against his ear. “It’s not nice to tease.”
When the song ended, Caleb looked toward the back and saw that Vivi was gone.
“She went upstairs,” Reid told him, and Cael couldn’t blame her, since Lucy had been grinding on him like a polecat in heat.
He hadn’t felt a thing. The only rush in his veins had been with Vivi, and in his dreams he hadn’t stopped, pushed her away.
No, in his dreams, he’d taken her on that old twin bed upstairs and the floor—slid inside of her to a place that felt as warm and familiar as anything he’d ever known.
He hadn’t remembered that until just now. Wondered why the good memories were as hard to find as the bad.
Finally, it was last call, and after half an hour, the last patrons were ushered out of the bar pretty unceremoniously by Reid, who slammed and locked the door behind them.
As Keagen worked on cleanup, Caleb sat with Reid and filled him in on what had been happening.
“This is so not good,” Reid muttered.
“Have you always been this articulate?”
Reid simply smiled. “What’s up with your girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He kept his voice low, even though Vivi was still upstairs and Keagen was listening to his iPod as he cleaned up around them.
“Sure, Cael. You fell for her the second you spied on her,” Reid said with a smirk. “Kell and I took bets on how long it would take you to sleep with her. I won.”
“Kell’s not here to verify that,” Caleb pointed out, and Reid’s face darkened. He played with the half a beer he had left—Reid was never a big drinker, usually holding on to a drink just so people didn’t continually offer—and finally said, “He’s not answering any of my calls.”
“He does that once in a while, flies off the radar, and then he’s back, same old moody pain in the ass he always is,” Caleb said. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Nothing. It’s just, Mace did say you remembered a lot of stuff.”
“Some. Lots about you guys and the missions. My brothers. Growing up.”
“You remember her?”
“No. And I still managed to hurt her worse than if I did.”
“Nearly fucking that woman on the bar in front of her didn’t help. I’m glad I’m not you right now.”
Cael sighed at his teammate’s brutal and inappropriate honesty, knew he would have to smooth things over with Vivi. Again. It was like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.
Last night, he’d been unable to fall asleep, afraid of the dream that he slipped into every time he let himself drift off. He heard the voices—two male voices he didn’t recognize—then the two faces he’d drawn over and over again in the notebook.
You have to kill them before they kill you, they would tell him. They’re out to get you. Stop them from talking. You know how you stop someone from talking, right? You slit their throat.
The knife, in his hand. The men laughing, nodding. Cael slashing the air in front of him.
Gray, dead in front of him. Mace, staring at him wordlessly.
“Cael, where did you just go?” Reid asked, bringing him back to the present.
“You don’t want to know, man. You don’t want to know.”
CHAPTER
12
Caleb sent Keagen home, locked up and left Reid downstairs, grumbling about playing guard dog and setting up a sleeping bag on top of some tables in the corner, out of view of the windows.
Vivi was indeed waiting for him. She’d been pacing, pulled up short when she saw him, and he attempted to stop the tirade he knew was coming by saying, “I had to dance with her. That’s what I’ve been doing when I work—we’re supposed to keep things business as usual.”
“Business as usual means practically screwing a woman on top of the bar?” She shook her head. “What are you doing, Caleb? What the hell are you trying to prove with that?”
Damn, this was bad. Really bad. “Nothing. I’ve got nothing to prove.”
“Right, not to me anyway.”
“I’m trying to find out who’s behind Harvey’s murder. Trying to regain my memory, my job—my life. I don’t have time for this jealous bullshit stuff.”
“But you have time to grind against women you’ve only known for the past few months, if that, right? So why didn’t you invite her up to your bed?” When he refused to answer, she continued, “You know what, Caleb, I’m beginning to think you’re all talk. I’m beginning to think you haven’t been with anyone since you were with me.”
She’d hit the nail right on the head and it pissed him off. “You’re pushing it, Vivi.”
“Good, because someone has to.” Her eyes blazed now. “You’ve been dancing around everything between us and I’ve been playing it your way. So let’s keep the ball in your court: Tell me what you want.”
“I just want to fuck you
,” he said roughly. “Do you like hearing that?”
“But you keep trying to push me away.” She was walking toward him, pulling off her sweater to reveal a tank top. “So if you want to fuck me, go ahead.”
He didn’t move.
“You’re scared. Maybe if you take me, you’ll feel something. And that scares the hell out of you. Because if you start feeling again, you might just remember.” She leaned in close. “I’ll let you in on a secret. It scares the hell out of me too, but I’ve got enough balls to go there.”
“Vivi …” His voice held a warning even to his own ears, but she was too far gone to take heed.
“I think you can’t get it up anymore. I think you’re pretending you’re fucking everything that moves but you can’t do it. Something’s stopping you, and I think it’s the memories of us. And it bothers you, more than anything. It bothers you that I got in.”
He hated that she knew him better than he knew himself at this point. Resented the hell out of all of this. “I told you not to push.”
“That’s all I want to do. Don’t you understand? That’s the only way I can get you to react.”
“You’re not going to like the reaction. Don’t tease me, Vivi.”
“I’m not teasing. I offered to let you have me—more than once. You’re the tease, Caleb.”
With that, she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Locked it too, because she realized she was shaking.
She’d never spoken to anyone like that in her life. Never felt strongly enough about any one person to fight that badly.
And you lost.
Knowing she couldn’t go back out there and face him, she decided to take a bath—a long, relaxing one, and give Caleb some time and room to calm down.
His face had been tight with anger—she’d hit on some truths, and yes, she’d pushed him. Too far, she acknowledged, as the running water steamed up the mirrors and she dropped her pants and pulled her tank top off, leaving her in just her underwear. It was only then she truly assessed her vulnerability.
She’d made a tactical error coming in here.
She was trapped. And as she pressed her ear to the door, she heard his footsteps. She held her breath and waited for them to grow fainter.
Instead, they grew louder. Because they were heading in her direction.
She backed away from the door, looked around as if an escape hatch would magically open, and then asked herself what she was so afraid of.
She had been so busy trying to convince herself—and him too—that he was the same man, she’d refused to entertain her own fears. Caleb might not be the same, might never be, for better or for worse.
In so many ways, he was still a stranger to her. Unpredictable. And she’d poked at him, insulted him.
Offered herself to him.
The doorknob moved and then stopped. The lock held and she stared at it, hoping he would walk away.
And then Caleb opened the door. The locked door, which admittedly must’ve been child’s play for him.
She swallowed hard, crossed her arms over her breasts as he moved toward her, his intent unmistakable. Unconsciously, she backed up until her ass hit the sink. She swore she heard him chuckle, although his expression didn’t change.
There was need in his eyes—different than what she’d seen before his capture and escape. He was right, he was a whole different man now. Harder. Tougher.
Cael hadn’t been gentle the first time they’d been together all those months ago, hadn’t touched her like she was some kind of fragile flower—apparently, that was something deeply ingrained in him.
Did she want him like this?
You said you wanted him, any way you could have him.
Too late to take that back.
And even though she was shaking, the second his bare skin touched hers, her body responded, damp and hot between her legs, nipples puckered with the threat and promise of sex and danger.
His hands went to her hips, forced his pelvis to hers, and her own memories stirred.
I’m going to scare you, Vivi.
He didn’t say a word now, just brought his mouth down on hers while at the same time reaching between them to remove her arms from her chest. He pushed them roughly back to her sides and molded their bodies together, his arousal already pressing her belly.
His kisses weren’t angry—far from it. His tongue’s penetration was a lazy, swirling, mesmerizing force. Her hands gripped the porcelain sink behind her, unable—unwilling—to move a muscle, and she responded to the kiss as if it quenched every thirst she’d ever had.
She was still shaking. And he didn’t care, simply took his time kissing her, harder, until she forgot everything but the feel of him.
He felt exactly the same as before. His kisses, his touches … this was the Caleb she knew.
He pulled away and her lips felt bruised. She wasn’t sure what he would do now, if he would leave her the way he had last night, or if he’d respond to her taunts of being unable to get it up by proving her wrong.
“You offered. You said you’re here for the taking, Vivi. So I’m taking.” His voice was a rough growl that penetrated her as surely as a touch.
She had no words, no defense.
“Face the mirror,” he ordered, and she hesitated, long enough so that he physically turned her. She couldn’t see much until he wiped a hand across the mirror, revealing her face, with his above it.
Her mouth dropped, a low whimper escaping, and then the steam encased the mirror again and she was gone.
His hand found her, fingers entering her. She tried to get onto her tiptoes, but he wouldn’t let her.
“You’re wet for me. You like this, like being scared. I think you got addicted to the danger.”
“No, that’s not—” She was unable to finish the rest of the sentence, her words wrapped up in a moan as his thumb found the bundle of nerves with an expertise she’d tried to re-create herself.
Tried and failed.
“Spread your legs. Farther.”
She did, felt his arousal brush her, softness and steel, and then the tip was inside of her, the familiar stretch threatening to push her over the edge much too soon.
She was drowning in a sea of her own pleasure, her emotions spiraling out of control—every intention to tell him no disappeared as if she was completely powerless against his touches.
She was. Had been from the first time he’d touched her. And on some base level, he knew that.
“I want this. Need this. I’m going to take you, Vivi. Going to take you hard and fast and any other way I want to.”
Her only response was a guttural moan from deep inside her throat, a sound she didn’t recognize because she’d never heard herself make it before.
If the old Caleb had made her scared, this one terrified her, and somehow—somehow—her body accepted the inevitability of the act, lusted for it. Craved it, as evidenced by the way she’d run wet at his words.
His cock replaced his fingers then, a hard stroke entering her, forcing her on her toes until he pulled her hips into him, forcing her body to accept his thick, hard length.
She did, her sex pinching with the familiar pain—and pleasure—that followed the initial thrust. Slowly, he pulled out and then pushed into her, again and again, until she was slicker and hotter and following the pace he set.
“Is this how you remember it?” he asked, his voice a harsh murmur. “Did you used to beg me for more?”
Images of her tied to a chair, Cael’s head between her legs, hearing herself calling his name and please so loudly she was sure the entire world could hear her. In those moments, she’d been alternately embarrassed and so turned on that she didn’t care about being his prisoner. “I don’t want anyone else to have you, Caleb. No one.”
He responded by speeding up the pace of his thrusts and her world shrank to only a throbbing ache of pleasure, an absolute need to take Cael over the edge with her.
“Did you beg me, Vivi
,” he demanded again, so hard inside of her, so deep—forcing her to rock her hips to his rhythm.
“Y-yes,” she managed, wished she could see his face in the fogged mirror in front of her.
“Did I make you come?”
“You did.”
“And now?” He pumped into her faster, held her hips still so all she could do was clutch the sides of the sink and hang on for dear life.
“Now. Right now … Caleb … Cael …”
His name rang from her lips; his cock, buried deep inside her wet heat, throbbed, begged for a release. But instead of pushing them over the edge with him buried inside of her, Caleb pulled out.
She opened her mouth to protest, to beg—but she realized he’d sunk to his knees. Her breath came in short pants that sounded like whimpers, filling the small space.
When he pulled her hips out and spread her legs, she gripped the sides of the sink, harder than before. When he sank his tongue deep inside of her, she felt as if she could rip it off the wall. Her entire body went taut as the hot, wet drag of his tongue took her as his cock had.
She was so hungry for him, for every touch and taste, she was pushing back against him, letting the rush of pleasure consume her as he had his way with her, her sex swollen and aching for release.
He wouldn’t let her—took her to the edge with his tongue on her clit and then he pulled back to lick and lave her folds, even as his fingers penetrated her.
“Cael … I can’t … I want …”
She came then, with no prelude, a hot, hard orgasm that tightened her womb almost painfully as she convulsed around his fingers, against his mouth. Chills tore through her, her pulse riotous as he held her through the tremors.
When he finally released her, she was limp with pleasure. She pushed herself up off the sink—just in time to watch him walk out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
He hadn’t come. That felt more like a failure than anything.
The rest was so good … and so not good, all at once. She was too overwhelmed to think. Instead, she sank to the floor of the tub and let it fill and remained there for a very long time.
In the Air Tonight Page 19