Covert Agent’s Virgin Affair

by Linda Conrad

  Mary’s face flushed bright red. “Not yet. But Ariel is helping me on my journey to find the real me. I was hoping…” Her words stopped as her face paled.

  Reaching a shaking hand toward him, she clutched her stomach with the other hand. “I was hoping you would help me, too.”

  With that, whatever she’d eaten for the past twenty-four hours came back up her throat and spewed from her mouth. If he’d been a step closer, it would’ve gone all over him. As it was, the goo covered her pants and got on her shoes.

  She started to cry in earnest. “I’m sooo sorry. Look at me. I’m a mess.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help.” He couldn’t stop himself. He could no more leave her like this than he could play the violin. It wasn’t in him.

  He took great care in carrying Mary into the bathroom and cleaning her up. After using a washcloth on her face, he splashed water into her mouth and let her swish toothpaste to rinse. When he was done, he helped her out of her shoes and pants and pitched them into the tub. He found a couple of aspirin in her bag on the back of the toilet and got them down her with a big glass of water. Then he carted her to the bed, threw the covers back and slid her between the sheets.

  “Thank you. I’m grateful. But my head is still spinning.” She beamed up at him. “Are you going to join me?”

  He shook his head and saw the shadow of disappointment cross her face. “Uh, I’d better clean up some more before I do anything else.”

  “Don’t leave me, Jake. Please.”

  “I won’t go far,” he promised. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. Rest is what you need most.”

  It took him ten minutes to wet a couple of towels and clean up the carpeting. He threw the towels into the tub and filled it up with hot water to let everything soak.

  When he arrived back beside the bed, Mary was sound asleep. He headed for the door. With his hand on the knob, he remembered his promise not to leave.

  But she would be all right. He could sneak out and she would never notice he’d left until morning.

  Then he made the mistake of turning back to look at her.

  She looked peaceful now, but what if she had alcohol poisoning or something? Perhaps she could get sick again and choke to death before ever waking up.

  He walked to the desk and dragged the tiny chair over beside the bed. Figuring he could sit here for a while, he decided he had nothing better to do tonight.

  As Jake stared down into Mary’s sweet face, he remembered their kiss. He’d kissed a lot of women over the years. In fact, for five whole years of his life he had looked forward to sharing his wife’s kisses on a daily basis. But Tina had been gone for ten years, and at this point he couldn’t quite bring the memory of his dead wife’s kisses to mind anymore.

  Was that disloyal? Jake couldn’t stand thinking about that possibility, or about Tina right now.

  He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way Mary clung to him. The way her body had melded to his as if the two of them were destined to be together. As if they had been made for each other right from the beginning of time.

  A stray curl of soft red hair had fallen over her cheek, and he reached over to push it behind her ear. Running his knuckles over ivory skin, Jake remembered how open she’d been. From the very beginning in the bar, she’d been willing to tell him anything.

  She’d also been wide-open to his kisses. Gave him everything he asked for—and more. She was a hell of a good kisser, making him wonder who had taught her so well. Her file hadn’t listed a boyfriend or fiancé, but Jake felt sure that by the age of twenty-nine there must’ve been someone.

  The thought of her file reminded Jake of his mission. He wouldn’t leave her for long, but he was overdue to check in with his partner.

  Forcing his fingers away from her soft, smooth skin, Jake pulled the sheet up over her shoulders and tucked her in. He’d covered up the mermaid, but he didn’t think she would mind.

  Smiling, he pocketed her key card and slipped out of the room. Seconds later he was down the outside stairs and in the parking lot, looking for a quiet place to make his call.

  “What do you mean your assailant—the kid—got away?” His partner Jim was chuckling so loudly over the phone that Jake was afraid someone in the hotel might be able to hear him. “You can’t mean you’ve suddenly grown into such an old man.”

  Stepping farther under a tall ponderosa pine, Jake gritted his teeth and backed into the shadows. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. What are you? All of two years younger than I am? Or maybe you’ve regressed to your teenage years while I’ve been away. At least I got in a clean shot at the kid. Broke his nose for sure.”

  “If he was someone from Honey Creek, a broken nose won’t be hard to spot.” Jim’s silent grin shouted right through the receiver, even though he made every effort to hide it by clearing his throat. “How about the target? Mary Walsh. How’d your first contact go?”

  Jake had to bite his tongue. No way would he tell his partner how unprofessional he’d been.

  “Fine,” he said in a calm voice. “The new plan is going to work out great. In a couple of days I should be meeting everyone in town through her.”

  Before Jim could ask anything else about Mary, Jake sent the conversation off in a slightly different direction. “I know the sheriff in Honey Creek is your old navy SEAL buddy, but are you sure he is definitely in the clear on the murder of our informant?”

  “Wes Colton is so straight you could mistake him for a ruler.” Jim took a deep breath through his nose and Jake could imagine him tempering his irritation over the insolent question. “Wes isn’t involved in our money-laundering investigation. You and I already came to that conclusion. He’s provided us with solid information.”

  Jake tsked at his partner’s lame excuses. “We’re talking about the murder of our main informant. You do remember that we’ve discussed the fact that Mark Walsh had a lot of enemies? His death could’ve been a crime of passion and not connected to our investigation at all. There’re several kinds of passion. Revenge, for one. Wes Colton’s brother has been sitting in the Montana State Prison for the past fifteen years for a crime he obviously did not commit. Sounds like a possible motive for murder to me.”

  Jim grunted through the phone. “I’ve already checked on Wes’s whereabouts around the time of Mark Walsh’s murder, smart-ass. He was at Quantico, taking one of the Bureau’s weekend classes for local enforcement. He was back in time to haul the body out of the creek. But as a suspect? Nope, he’s not a possibility. Check the sheriff off your list.”

  This time it was Jake who was holding back the chuckle. “Got it. Anything else?”

  “Dead ends and false leads so far. But I’m working every detail. Keep me informed of how you’re doing in Honey Creek.”

  Jake hung up and pocketed his phone. Taking one more exploratory trip around the hotel grounds, he checked for anything suspicious and came up empty.

  He headed back to Mary’s room, hoping she hadn’t awakened while he’d been gone. After he’d slipped inside and checked to make sure she was still breathing, he emptied the bathtub and wrung out the towels. Mary’s clothes looked like a lost cause. He dumped them in a pile on the floor.

  Then Jake took up residence in the straight-backed desk chair. One of the most uncomfortable places to sit in his memory.

  But he kicked off his shoes and settled down to wait anyway. He wanted to watch her until the morning to assure himself that she was okay.

  While he watched her sleeping, Jake vowed that he would use these hours to his best advantage. He would work to convince himself that the two of them could indeed have a romantic relationship without becoming intimate. He vowed to use her only up to a point. After all, a few things in life went far beyond his job description.

  “No. No. No. Don’t make me.”

  Jake practically jumped out of his seat and scanned the room for intruders. Early-morning light peeked around the edges of the curtains. No intruders.

&nb
sp; Another noise drew his attention toward the bed. Mary was whimpering and flailing her arms in her sleep. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she cried out with unintelligible words.

  “I hate you. Hate you!” Those words had been clear enough. He relaxed slightly, realizing she was having a nightmare.

  In the next moment she twisted in her sheets and kicked fiercely. She screamed and he began to worry that she was becoming hysterical and might hurt herself. Mary then uttered words that drove a chill up Jake’s spine and sent him stumbling to her side.

  "I wish you were dead. I swear I’ll kill you!"

  Chapter 3

  Strong arms closed around her, bringing Mary out of her nightmare with a start. Where was she? And who could be jumping her while she slept?

  “Easy there. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you. It was only a bad dream.”

  Jake. The cobwebs in her mind disappeared in a flash and she pasted herself to his body. If it had been possible to crawl right inside him, she would not have hesitated.

  He cocooned her. Wrapped her in warmth and tenderness.

  “Relax,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re safe.”

  Swallowing down the night’s terrors, Mary reached out toward his face to assure herself that this was no dream. She used her forefinger to trace his features, drawing a line from his high forehead down his Roman nose. Her fingers fanned across the strength in his jaw and in and out of the tiny cleft in his chin. She wanted to memorize every dip and ridge, every nuance.

  The reality of being in bed with a sexy man was so much better than anything she had ever read in the pages of a book. She molded herself to him—tried to align their legs in perfect union.

  His breathing became rough, uneven. She heard and it turned her to mush. She fisted her hands in his shirt and breathed in his exotic smell. All man. Masculine and exhilarating.

  Jake eased back and gently rubbed his thumbs across her wet cheeks. “Okay? No more dream bad guys?”

  More than okay, she felt totally wonderful. As though someone had poured a vat of warm chocolate over her. This was what she had been waiting for her whole entire lifetime.

  He bent his head and placed his lips against her forehead. Nuh-uh. Not what she wanted from him at all.

  Digging her hands in his hair, she pulled his head back and put his lips where she wanted them. On hers. Her tongue slid inside his mouth. The all-consuming flames instantly sprang between them, as she’d expected—as she’d hoped.

  Sensation after sensation raged through her. Rainbows of bright colors. Textures and shapes, a tapestry of passion.

  Frantic to touch him—everywhere—Mary kept half her brain concentrating on the taste of his mouth and on worrying his lips between her own. And with the other half of her fuzzy mind, she fought to open the buttons on his shirt. A button popped. Then something ripped. But the sounds only served to spur her on.

  At last she reached her goal, warm skin and chest hair. The sensation of wiry hair against her fingertips was erotic. She wanted to plant her lips there, replacing her fingers. She needed a taste of him. Of all of him. The pulse right below the surface at the base of his neck would be a great place to start. His salty skin and all those fascinating hidden ridges and creases came next.

  “You’re killing me here.” He dragged his mouth from hers, panting hard.

  Through his sensual haze, Jake knew his breathing wasn’t the only thing growing hard. She was too close. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember why they shouldn’t be doing this.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  Exasperated, Jake pried her fingers off his shirt and placed her hand against the hard ridge lying under the zipper of his pants. “What do you think?”

  “Oh.” Her voice was deep, flirty. “Then don’t stop now.”

  Before he could stop her, she began lowering his zipper. The sound mesmerized him. Like someone scratching their way out of a dilemma. His every sense went on alert. The feel of her luxurious hair against his skin. The sound of her breathing coming from her mouth in small pants. When she looked up into his eyes, he saw fire.

  He felt something inside him clutch, then give way. He’d seen her willingness. Her longing. Through her sensitive touch he’d found she not only had gentleness and passion, but empathy as well.

  It had been a long damned time since he’d wanted anything—anyone this badly.

  His erection popped free. Mary sighed deeply and took him in hand. Her obvious pleasure at touching him was contagious. He rolled her to her back and ran his hands down her rib cage and up to cup her breasts.

  Her mouth brushed over his briefly, setting fires where she kissed. Just enough to burn through any of his remaining boundaries. He covered her mouth and kissed her back relentlessly. Her lips and tongue stoked the flames of his desire and burned any questions or regrets away like so many cinders blowing in the wind.

  “Mary.” A single word. A single breath.

  And he was lost.

  The blood coursed through his veins, leaving his brain and rushing to his extremities. He was out of control. Defenseless against his own needs.

  Desperate, he slid her arms free of the bra, pulled it to her waist and then filled his hands with her lush flesh. Her breasts were firm and as soft as rose petals. As he thumbed over the nubby tips, her chest rose and fell. She moaned through pursed lips. His fingers had found perfection, but his mouth hungered for its turn.

  He lowered his head to take what he wanted. When his mouth closed over the hard and pebbled peak of one breast, she arched upward with a gasp. Pulling her deeper into his mouth, he laved his tongue back and forth over her nipple. It grew harder—and so did he.

  Ignoring the growing ache in his groin, he kept his attention focused on Mary, on her reactions to his moves. As he moved to the other breast, she whimpered and moved restlessly under him. He took a nip of the tip, just a tiny bite. She jumped but made it clear she liked what he was doing, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and holding him right where she wanted. Blowing air over her to both soothe and stir, he kissed and suckled her breasts until she begged. “Jake, please. I want…I want…”

  Yes, Jake knew what she wanted and was determined to please them both. Why he shouldn’t seemed lost in a haze of need and desire.

  He flattened the palm of his hand on her belly and felt her muscles quivering under his touch. Inching his fingers beneath her panties, he soon reached his goal—all that glorious heat in the lush curls at the center of her thighs. He brushed aside any silky material standing in his path. With her help he pulled the undergarment down and off, frantic that nothing should stand between them.

  He shoved his own slacks out of the way with one hand while he used the other to stroke and torture. Her thighs fell open and she lifted her hips off the bed. Finding her already wet and hot, he bent his head and dipped his tongue into her sweetness.

  Mary groaned, struggled and urged him back up her body. He obliged her, blazing kisses over her belly and across the valleys and curves of her body. Then she reached down and gripped him with both her hands, using a gentle touch that drove him wild.

  He jerked and went rigid. Her touch ruled his moves. But he didn’t want gentle from her. His whole body felt like molten lava and Jake knew he couldn’t last much longer. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands up over her head.

  Looking into her face, he found her glazed eyes fixed on him. “Now, Jake,” she said through a sob. “I beg you. Hurry.”

  She lifted her hips, inviting him inside. With a last bit of clarity, he reached into his pants pocket for his wallet. He found the silver-wrapped condom and had it freed and installed within seconds.

  Moving over her again, he let the tip of his erection nudge her swollen flesh. She writhed. Whimpered. He leaned his hips forward, brushing his length against her for a second time while she cried out her pleasure.

  The sound enflamed him, engulfed him, as blood pulsed and pooled in the part of him begging for quick re
lease. His own ragged breathing blocked the tiny niggles of guilt already building deep inside his chest.

  When he brushed her entrance for a third time, she bucked upward. Her whole body pleaded for him as she rubbed herself against his length and called out his name. Every inch of her wept with wanting, and she begged him to hurry.

  With amazing self-control, Jake gently pressed his hard length inside her entrance. Testing. He needed this to be good for her. Better for her than for him.

  Her internal opening surrounded him with tiny tremors. Like welcome-home hugs. Hearing her making explicit noises of pleasure, he pressed a little deeper into the shock waves. But he wanted her to be just as wild with need as he was. With some regret he made a slow withdrawal, only seconds later to inch forward again.

  She tensed but murmured encouragement. Her body was like a warm, welcoming paradise, tight and wet. The greatest gift he’d ever been offered. He pushed deeper, trying not to rush.

  Feeling her body start to contract around him, he slid himself farther toward ecstasy. So hot. Slick. Tight.

  Just before he succumbed to the madness, it hit him. Too tight. There might not be any barrier, but no one had ever come this way before. He suddenly knew for certain that he was the first.

  Her first? Was it possible?

  He used the last bit of his resolve to lean up on his elbows and look down at her. Her face was the picture of abandon. Her hair a wild carpet spread out across the pillows.

  This was too big a gift for him to take without words. “Mary.”

  Not sure he could stop if she asked him to, he still felt he had to try. Had to say something.

  She’d closed her eyes and arched her neck, pushing her engorged breasts up invitingly. He tried not to look. Fought to forget their sweet taste.

  “Mary, listen to me.” Desperation colored his efforts.

  “Please. Please. Please.” She undulated her hips and threw her legs over his thighs, bringing him closer to the edge.

  “Mary, look at me.”