DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series
Page 23
“How did you know to do that?”
I shook my head. “Sometimes things just come to me.”
She touched the row of stitches, running her fingertip carefully over them. “I wouldn’t have known what to do. I wonder if that means you were in the military or something.”
“I don’t know.”
“If you were, Waverly will find it.”
I ran my hand slowly up her thigh, tucking my finger into the edges of her panties. She laid her hand over mine, stopping me from pulling the flimsy material away.
“I can handle it from here.”
“I don’t mind helping.”
She brushed her hand against the side of my face. “Last night was really nice. But we can’t forget that you’ve employed my security firm to do a job for you. It wouldn’t be professional for me to allow us to get into a messy personal thing.”
“Then maybe I’ll just fire you.”
“And then I’d have to go back to Houston.”
I groaned. “You’re not an easy woman.”
She touched me again, her fingers playing with the short hairs above my ear. There was a sadness in her eyes that I didn’t quite understand. It was almost like grief, like she was mourning a loss that had yet to happen. Like she knew something I didn’t.
“You’re lost,” she said softly. “You have no idea who you are and you’ve been searching all alone all this time. And now we’re making progress and you’re grateful—”
“You think the only reason I want you is because I’m grateful that you led me into a trap with an armed woman?” I cocked my head just slightly. “That’s not what this is about. This is about a beautiful woman whose body took me to places I don’t think I’ve ever gone before.”
“You don’t know that. For all you know, there’s just something about me that reminds me of the love of your life. For all you know, you’re married and you have a couple of kids and you were content in your life until whatever happened that caused you to leave home eighteen months ago. It could be your wife who hired Gray Wolf to find you.”
“And I could have been a bitter old bachelor who chose to live his life completely isolated. You don’t know any better than I do.”
She dropped her head, staring at her hands where they were now resting in her lap. “The thing is, I think I do know.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head slowly as she dug her thumbnails into her palms. “The pictures Ingram Porter had. One of them was of you sitting in a home somewhere in front of a display of photographs. One of the photographs was a wedding picture, and you were kissing the cheek of a pretty woman in a wedding gown.”
I pressed my hands to her thighs, splaying my fingers so we could both see how bare those fingers were.
“I don’t have a wedding ring. There’s not a tan line—never was.”
“Some men choose not to wear a wedding ring.”
“I don’t feel married. I have dreams that I’m pretty sure are memories, and none of them center around a woman. If I was married, surely I would have dreams of a woman.”
“Maybe not.”
It was like she was trying to convince herself that I was otherwise attached. Like she wanted to believe that in order to protect herself from … from what? I wasn’t sure. From setting herself up for hurt? From actually enjoying herself? From finding a little pleasure?
I cupped her jaw and ran my thumb over her bottom lip.
“I like you, Rhett. From the moment you walked into Hayden’s office, trying so hard to look uninterested even as you very openly checked me out, I wanted to get to know you better. And the more we talked, the more you wanted to know about me, the more I wanted to know about you.
“When I realized you’d been shot protecting me … my past stopped mattering for the first time in a year. I just wanted you to be okay. I wanted you to talk to me again, to be you again. If that’s not infatuation or desire, I don’t know what is.”
“But you don’t know.”
“Neither do you.” I leaned close and pressed my forehead to hers. “Don’t push me away because of speculation. Everything is crazy right now. I need you. And I think you need me.”
She hesitated as she lifted her hand, hesitated before she pressed her palm to my cheek. But then she did, a tear forming and slowly falling from one eye.
“This is so unprofessional.”
“No one needs to know.”
“I know.”
I groaned. “Do you have to argue with everything?”
She laughed softly, the sound as melancholy as it was amused. “That’s what my sister asks me all the time.”
I kissed her gently, our lips lingering for a long moment. Then her hands moved over my skull and she pulled me so close, a little sob slipping from her lips as she welcomed me to her, as she opened to me. I slid my hands over the outside of her thighs, tugging her closer to me, deepening the kiss, a desperation building in my chest. My body ached for her, my palms itching to feel her silky skin, my fingers dying to feel the excitement of her flesh, the moisture that was such an exciting acknowledgement of her desire. My tongue needing the taste of her like it needed water and food to survive.
I pressed my face to her throat for a moment, then began to forge a slow, erotic path down her body. A nip at her collarbone, a lovely nibble at her nipple. I pushed her back, exposing her beautiful belly, her cute little belly button.
Moving lower, my fingers were careful to avoid her wound as they explored her thighs, inner and outer and everything in between. She opened for me, her hands encouraging me to touch those places, as I moved lower on her belly. And when the tip of my tongue brushed against her swollen clit, she hissed, a sound that was so much like a moan, but more controlled, more primal.
I wanted to make her moan. I wanted to make her lose control so completely that she would make noises she’d never made before. I wanted to give her pleasure that she’d never known before. It was an ache deep in my belly, a driving need that wouldn’t allow me to stop.
I touched her, encouraged her to open wide for my touch. My tongue played with the silky, soft folds of her lips, playing with the folds of skin that were filled with endless nerve endings, all set to feel pleasure. And then that beautiful, swollen clit just standing there, waiting for me.
I rolled it behind my front teeth, making her hiss again. And then back to the folds, back and forth until her fingers were pressing so hard against my skull that a headache threatened. I pulled her hands away, trapped them beside her thighs, and continued to play with just my mouth, my teeth, my tongue.
She closed her thighs around my head a few times, but mostly sat rigid, trying not to enjoy what I knew was beyond everything she’d ever known about pleasure. I could see the marks on her body, the scars that suggested something dark had happened to Rhett.
The thin scars on her thigh that looked like half-moons, fingernails driven deep by the struggle to keep her thighs wide, the thin scar on the precious tissues of her cunt that could have been the result of childbirth, but which I suspected was from something more macabre, something much darker. I’d suspected these things existed, suspected it when she refused to give up control during the night.
She’d seen the dark side of male nature. Now I’d teach her the other side.
I took my time, touching her until her breathing was uncontrolled, bordering on hyperventilation. Until she was fighting my grip on her hands, her hands needing to pull me closer to her, always closer. Until her thighs were pressed so hard against my head that the imprint of my ears would probably, permanently, mark her alabaster skin. But I kept going until the hisses finally turned into moans. And then screams.
I stood quickly when the first scream slipped from between her lips. I tugged her to her feet, no longer able to wait, no longer able to refuse myself my own pleasure. I pulled her up in front of the sink, the mirror reflecting the daze, other world look in her eyes from the orgasm that was still rushing through
her body. And then the intensity that drew another scream from between her lips as I thrust my rigid cock deep inside of her, filling her spasming cunt with every inch I had to offer her. One arm around her breasts, one hand on her hip, I thrust carefully, controlled, against her body. She leaned back into me, her eyes opening as she watched, as her eyes studied mine in the cheap mirror.
I loved how expressive her eyes were, how beautiful they were. I loved seeing the pleasure dance there, loved knowing that I was the one creating that pleasure. I loved the connection I felt staring into those eyes.
I let my hand slide down, slipped it under the lip of the sink that was helping to keep her on her feet. I touched her clit with the tip of my finger and she cried out, touched her and felt the spasms that had begun to relax kick up again. She rolled her hips, pressing them roughly against me, her eyes slipping closed as another orgasm built and exploded through her lower belly. Her muscles, wrapped around my cock, began to milk me, tugging me. It was more than I could take.
I exploded inside of her, filling her with all I had to offer. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know if I had a future I could offer her. But I had this. I had kindness I could offer her. I had pleasure. I had a promise, not for the future, but for the idea that not everyone was as cruel as whoever it was who’d once hurt her.
When it was done, when we could stand on our own again, I helped her into the tub and turned the shower on. We took turns washing each other, languishing in the heated water. She pressed her face to my chest, sighing heavily against my wet skin.
“Thank you.”
I didn’t answer except to run my hand slowly down her back. I knew what she meant. The gratitude wasn’t one-sided, either. I just didn’t know how to put it into words.
Chapter 10
Rhett
I reluctantly left the motel not long after we got out of the shower, my wound rewrapped under my jeans. I focused on not hobbling as I crossed the parking lot to where Xander had left the SUV.
Xander. It was a little odd thinking of him that way. But I had to admit the name seemed to fit him well.
The car smelled like blood. I tossed the towel Xander had handed me as I left the room over the driver’s seat. I hadn’t really believed him when he said it was soaked in blood, but now I did. I couldn’t believe I’d lost that much blood. No wonder I was so incredibly thirsty.
Kasey was supposed to be waiting for me in a little town twenty miles up the road. I drove slowly, my leg aching so terribly that I kept running my hand over it, trying to rub some of the ache away. It wasn’t helping.
I spotted the car in the Walmart parking lot the moment I drove past. I did a quick circle of the parking lot, making sure there were no surprises. Ingram Porter was a smart guy. I wouldn’t put it past him to have followed us to the new motel. But there was no sign of Porter or anyone else from Gray Wolf. And no mysterious redheaded woman, either.
I parked in front of the small sedan and climbed out, stretching my sore leg a little. When Luke climbed out of the sedan, I instinctively reached for my gun.
“Where’s Kasey?”
“Change of plans. Megan thought it would be better if I came instead.”
“Why?”
Luke shrugged. He was a tall man, a big man, with dark hair and eyes. He didn’t work for Dragon, but his wife owned the place, so most people considered him their boss, too. But that didn’t mean it was common to see him out in the field.
“There’s some concern that the client is not everything he says he is. Megan’s concerned about your safety.”
“I’m fine.”
Luke’s eyes moved slowly over the length of me. As if on some sort of cue, my leg decided it no longer wanted to hold my weight and my knee buckled. I stepped back, hobbling a little, enough to clue him in to the fact that not all was well with me.
“You’re hurt?”
“It’s nothing.”
“He do it?”
“No, of course not.” I stepped back again as Luke moved toward me, watching him with wary eyes. “Xander is an amnesiac. What could he have lied to us about?”
“I don’t think the amnesia is as complete as he wants us to believe. And I think he had other reasons to hire Dragon than what he told Hayden. And you, probably.”
“Like what?”
Luke shifted slightly. “I have reason to believe he has connections to people who were once out to hurt my family and the people at Dragon. My guess is, he’s still connected to those people and they probably would still like to see Megan and Hayden and a few others destroyed. It can’t be a coincidence that he came to Dragon.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Who, exactly, do you think he’s connected to?”
Luke shook his head. “That’s not for you to worry about.”
“Then who should be worrying about it?”
He didn’t seem to like being questioned. But this was my case, and I wasn’t going to let some guy who wasn’t technically my boss come in and tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.
“We know that he worked as a day trader in Denver. I have reason to believe he was forced to participate in illegal activities with a group of unnamed people because someone he cared about was threatened. And I believe that the people who forced him into this activity caused the accident that nearly killed him and that they still want him dead.”
“How do you know all that?”
I shrugged. “I’m an investigator.”
He shifted his feet on the asphalt, staring at his toes as he worked through whatever it was he wanted to say or do. He finally looked up at me.
“You should drop this case. Tell Hayden you couldn’t find any more information on him.”
“Why?”
“Because this man and the people he’s associated with are dangerous.”
“Why do I think you know more about him than I do?”
Again Luke shifted, burying his hands in his pockets as he studied my face. He clearly hadn’t anticipated that I would be this stubborn.
“What if I told you I do know him? What if I told you that I ran into him in my other life, my life before I married Megan and settled down to have kids?”
“When you were with the CIA?”
He didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod, but I knew from the look in his eye that I’d hit the nail right on the head.
“Was he CIA?”
Luke leaned back against the hood of the sedan. “There are things that people are not supposed to talk about. But I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about Peter Bradford and what happened to him, about the rogue CIA agent who took him captive and used him for two years.
“And I’m sure you’ve heard about Megan’s investigation into Peter’s ‘death’ that caused hellfire to come down on her and several of the operatives at Dragon. I’m sure you’ve guessed that the CIA sent agents to watch Megan and her operatives in light of what Peter was investigating before he disappeared, agents who would have done anything to protect themselves, their agency, and the security of this country.”
I frowned, feeling like he was talking in riddles. He was right that I’d heard the rumors. It was all before my time with Dragon, but I knew that Megan, Hayden, and Dominic were all caught up in a big CIA scandal that blew up five or six years ago. And I knew Peter—we’d worked a couple of cases together when I first joined the firm. I knew whatever it was that man had done to him had changed him. I knew Peter was broken, just like me, just like most of the people who made our line of work their career.
Was Luke actually telling me that Xander was a CIA agent who’d investigated Megan and the others? Was he saying that Xander had once posed a danger to my boss and might still pose a danger to Dragon and the people who worked there?
I couldn’t believe that.
“I’ve heard the rumors. But I think they’re mostly just that: rumors. And I think you might be a little confused as to Xander’s intentions.”
Luke stared so hard at me that I coul
d almost feel the heat of his anger.
“Xander King is not a good man, Rhett. I don’t know what he’s said to you, what he’s done to convince you otherwise, but believe me when I tell you that the can of worms you’re about to open could be deadly. Not just for you, but for everyone I care about. And I can’t let that happen.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
“You’re just helping an assassin get closer to his targets.”
A cold hand grabbed my heart when he said that. But then my body remembered Xander’s touch from just a few hours ago and I couldn’t believe that, a man who could be so kind and gentle could be capable of what Luke was suggesting he was.
“Tell me what you know about him.”
Luke’s eyebrows rose. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To warn you. To ask you to be diligent. When you learn the truth—and you will learn the truth—make sure you keep records, make sure you inform as many law enforcement personnel as possible. Make sure you keep that man away from my family.”
I inclined my head just slightly. “I can do that.”
“And let me know the instant his behavior changes. I want to know when this amnesia game ends. I want to know when he’s ready to make his move.”
“You really don’t believe he has amnesia, do you?”
“Do you?”
The thing was, I hadn’t questioned it. But as he posed his question, I found myself thinking about the moments before I burst into Xander’s motel room and confronted his attacker, when he spoke to her so calmly, using her name and acting as if he knew exactly what she was talking about.
And the job he did on my wound, the stitches that he placed almost better than a trained physician might have done. There were scars on his body, lines and gnarled marks, places that could have been repaired bullet wounds, that could have been field dressed wounds.
Was it possible that Xander was CIA? That he had advanced field medical training? Was it possible that he was able to fix my wound because he remembered that training? Was it possible that he was lying about the amnesia?