by Huie,Melissa
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Copyright 2016 (C) by Melissa Huie, Curved Ink Publishing, LLC
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.
This e-book is a work of pure fiction. Any resemblance to an actual event or person—living or dead—is purely coincidental. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are used in a fictitious manner. The author acknowledges the use of trademarked status and trademarks’ owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Editorial provided by Emma Mack, Ultra Design Editing http://www.ultraeditingco.com
And Dana Hook, Rebel Edit & Design.
Cover Design by Robin Harper, Wicked by Designwww.wickedbydesigncovers.com
Formatting – Cassy Roop, Pink Ink Designs www.pinkinkdesigns.com
Front Cover Photography: Shauna Kruse, Kruse Image and Photography
http://www.kruseimagesandphotography.com/
Models:
Aurora O’Brien www.facebook.com/AuroraOBrien
Zack Salaun – www.facebook.com/Zack-Salaun
Author Photography by Cassy Roop, www.pinkinkdesigns.com
Dedication
To my wonderfully sassy grandmother, Theresa.
Thank you for being amazing, for being so supportive.
I love you and keep on dancing, Granny.
Prologue
Miami, Florida
December 2015
“I NEED SOMETHING hard and strong to make this day go away.”
I raised my eyebrow and stared straight into the bartender’s golden hazel eyes, the double meaning crystal clear. His full lips curled into a cocky smirk as he reached for the bottle of Maker’s Mark and held it up, his eyes asking if I could handle it. I grinned, as my gaze traveled down the length of his body. The white T-shirt and ripped jeans did nothing to hide the cut of his waist, or his pectoral muscles. I nodded and confirmed that yes—not only could I handle my favorite type of whiskey, but yes—I could handle him as well. I watched as he poured me a double, my eyes tracing the tight cords in his arms. I heaved a sigh and reached for my glass.
“At some point, Paulo, you’re going to realize what you’re missing,” I said with a teasing smile.
“Ah, Kate, I highly doubt that. You don’t have the right equipment to fit my needs,” Paulo replied, wiggling his eyebrows. Of course, I couldn’t keep up with the Cuban Casanova of Miami. I chuckled and sipped my drink. The smooth amber liquid burned as it went down and eased the stress from the day’s events.
Not that I anticipated anything else short of drama. Apparently, bitching out my boss, Special Agent in Charge Rapoles, wasn’t something that just went away quietly. My rant followed me from FBI Headquarters in Washington, D.C., last week, to the Miami Field Office. I guess the higher-ups didn’t take too kindly to agents insisting that one of their own, their golden boy, was corrupt, working for the very enemy they were fighting. In fact, they hated the truth so much, that I was being pulled from the very case I’d helped to build, and was being redirected to the Baltimore office. And from there, a trip to Europe for some white-collar case. Management called it a lateral move, but I called it what it really was—bullshit. They wanted to distance me because I was so close to taking down their favorite agent.
I tossed back the rest of the whiskey and gestured to Paulo for another. After I received an ass chewing from the Special Agent in Charge here in Miami, I had the humiliating task of clearing out my office, and doing the walk of shame in front of my fellow agents. People I respected saw me walk out, like a criminal. I had made a name for myself as a take-no-bullshit agent. I was proud of my accomplishments, and not for the first time in my life, felt like a complete and utter failure because I didn’t go by the ‘good ol’ boy code.’ Tommy Greene may be their golden boy, but soon, they’ll know who they’re dealing with. There was no way in hell I’d let something like that go, but I knew the rules. The more I fought with the Bureau, the more I’d lose. I wasn’t raised to lose at anything, so I was going to bide my time and get more concrete evidence before I brought them to their knees.
My orders were to report to Baltimore within a week, but there was no reason to stick around. I returned back to the apartment the Bureau had rented me for the last three years and threw everything into the boxes and bags I had picked up on my way home. Thankfully, my nomad lifestyle definitely came in handy, because all my personal belongings were packed and loaded into my Lexus within an hour. The toiletries, and two extra changes of clothes would fit into my weekend bag. Both my Bureau issued and personal 9mm Glocks were locked safely in their cases, and my messenger bag containing all my notes and files on the Cruz Cartel case were ready to be loaded at first light the next morning.
But after everything was packed up, cleaned up, or thrown out, I couldn’t stand the stillness. Below my apartment, Miami bustled with people and noise, excited for the New Year’s festivities and fireworks. I needed to feel the city one last time. After living here on and off for the last three years, I truly enjoyed the city. Full of life and vibrant colors, it felt like a vacation from my daily grind of working in the shadows, and dealing with the scum of the city. I had made a friend or two in my short time here, and the desire to say good-bye was overwhelming. So I slipped on a denim miniskirt and white T-shirt, and headed down to Abbey Brewing Company, a local hangout.
“That’s a mighty strong drink for someone so small. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His southern drawl made my pussy clench, as it always did when he was near. I turned my head toward the man that just sat down. Noah Russo. A casual flirtation in the condo gym two years ago turned into a serial friend with benefits deal. That was as close as it would ever get. I didn’t do relationships. And from what I gathered from Noah, neither did he.
I smiled as my eyes took in his blue V-neck T-shirt, stretched to fit his biceps and broad shoulders. His dark jeans hung dangerously low on his hips. His dark blond hair was ruffled from the wind, and his deep brown eyes looked through me, to my very soul, and I shivered. I hadn’t seen him since before Thanksgiving, but he was definitely a sight for sore eyes.
“It’s been one of those days,” I answered vaguely, taking another sip.
He ordered a beer for himself, and pulled my bar stool closer to him. He wrapped his taut arms around my waist and brushed his lips against my ear. “Yeah? What kind of day would that be?”
“The kind of day where I don’t care if it’s a sti
ff cock or a stiff drink. I just need something hard to relieve the tension,” I replied softly, as I ran my tongue over my bottom lip to catch a runaway drop of amber liquid. His body coiled instantly around mine.
“Aw, Princess, we’ll have to remedy that situation,” he growled, nuzzling my neck. He straightened to his full six-foot-four height, towering over my five-foot-five stature, and threw forty dollars down to cover my whiskey and his untouched beer, then grabbed my hand. I blew a kiss to Paulo and gave a little wave good-bye as Noah pulled me outside.
The thick and humid air embraced us as we hit the street. My hand clutched his as we made our way up 16th Street, through the holiday crowds. We reached our apartment building and barely made it inside the lobby when he pressed my back against the wall, and crushed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around him and molded myself to his body. Noah’s large hands cupped my bottom and lifted me up. My legs locked around his waist, my body arching into his. His arousal ground into my already damp panties, and I moaned at the friction.
“Your place or mine?” he grunted against my lips. My head cleared momentarily from an arousal-induced fog.
“Yours.”
With my legs still wrapped around him, he carried me over to the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor. As soon as the doors closed, he pressed my body against the wall again, this time his rough, calloused hands palmed my breasts.
“It’s been way too long, Kate,” he growled. He nipped at my neck, then came back to my mouth. My lips opened eagerly for his tongue. His intoxicating scent of leather, soap, and sea air created a sinful combination. Our tongues clashed and I pulled him closer, eager for anything and everything he was doing.
“I know,” I breathed, as I ran my nails up his tight back. His lips reached the tops of my breasts, just as the doors opened. He carried me out into the open-air hallway to room 405, and fumbled for the key. Once we were safely behind closed doors, he yanked my shirt over my head.
“God, you’re amazing,” he muttered, his mouth sucking my nipple through the lace of my bra. He brought me into the bedroom and laid me on the bed. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this?” he asked, standing at the foot of the bed.
I smirked, then gasped as he yanked my miniskirt and soaked panties from my body.
“Then what are you waiting for?” My fingers glided from my belly to the throbbing ache between my legs, and I plunged into my slick, wet heat.
“Oh no, Princess. That pussy’s mine.” He grabbed my fingers, and with a slowness destined to drive me crazy, sucked every drop of cream off my digits. Noah fell to his knees and drew my legs around his shoulders. I propped myself on my elbows, and almost had an orgasm just watching him. His lips traced a line of kisses down the inside of my thigh, his teeth gently nipping as he got closer to my core. His lips circled the tight little nub, and I bucked into him with a moan. He reached his heavily inked arm over my hips as he feasted on me. With each lick and suckle of my clit, I was cresting higher and higher. I was so close, and the bastard knew it. Just as I was about to fall over, he pulled back. His face and beard glistened with my juices and gave me that smile—the smile I could never resist.
“You bastard.”
“Beg me, Princess. I want to hear you beg me to make you come. I want to make you see the stars.” He gently stroked the inside of my core with a featherlight touch, driving me wild. He hooked his finger and pressed on that spot—the spot that only he seemed to be able to find, and I was right back on that edge.
I bit my lip, and looked him dead in the eyes. “Please, Noah…please.”
Holding my stare, he leaned forward and tugged on my clit with his teeth. He then inserted two of his fingers, and began thrusting, quickly. I not only saw stars, I saw the freaking galaxy. I ground my pussy into his face, digging my nails into his scalp as I screamed out his name. He lapped up my orgasm, then stood up, taking off his shirt.
“My turn.” I sat up and made quick work of his belt buckle and jeans, pushing them down around his ankles. He toed off his shoes, and I pulled him onto the bed. I crushed my lips to his, tasting myself on his tongue, then kissed my way down his body. My tongue traced the phoenix on his hip, then moved down. I ran my fingers under the band of this boxer briefs and gave a good yank. His magnificent cock popped out, and I smiled. I ran my tongue up and down one side, then the other. I circled the tip with my tongue, then relaxed my throat to take all ten inches of him into my mouth. His grip tightened in my hair, and I sucked harder while stroking his sac. The groans coming out of his mouth had me so wet, I clenched my thighs to relieve the ache.
“God damn, Kate. Come here.” He pulled his cock out of my mouth and brought me to his chest. Our tongues clashed again, and our flavors mingled together. He rubbed the tip of his cock over my clit, and it had me more aroused than I’d ever been before. I was half tempted—more than half—to sink down and feel him skin to skin. I needed that ache fulfilled. But my conscious prevailed, and I broke away from his lips.
“Condom,” I managed to gasp out. He reached over to the drawer next to him and pulled out a box. I grabbed it from his hand and scooted down. I took my time, gripping and stroking him, while I encased his cock. The second it was on, Noah sat up and pulled me over his body. I sank down, and we both stilled with a groan as my body adjusted to his intrusion. I raised my hips and rocked onto him, slowly at first, but the pace quickened with more vigorous thrusts. His hands reached out and pinched my already sensitive nipples. That was my undoing. We both climaxed together, my pussy milking his cock as it jerked inside of me. I collapsed next to him, while he discarded the used condom. Panting and sweaty, Noah climbed back into bed, and pulled me into his body, curling his arms around my waist.
I started to get up, when his grip tightened me to his chest. My eyes closed and I sighed. It was a first. Normally, after a great sex session, we’d have a beer, put on a game, or order dinner. Now, it was as if he wanted me to stay the night. It had never happened before, and it sure wasn’t going to happen now.
My eyes opened and my gaze traveled over his face—the sharp angles, his soulful, chocolate brown eyes. Noah was one hell of a sexy man. My fingers traced the sleeve of tattoos on his arms, and he moaned softly in my ear.
“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered. I inwardly groaned. Why now? That would only make it worse. I could walk away and not think of it as anything more than sex. Sleeping together meant something more.
“You know I can’t do that,” I breathed. His lips hit the most sensitive part of my neck, right behind my ear. The fire I thought had faded, flickered back to life. I moaned and buried my face in his neck.
“Can’t, or won’t?” his ragged voice demanded, and he covered my body with his. My legs fell apart as his fingers trailed toward my heat. His lips hungrily took mine, our tongues dancing together, before he broke away, trailing his tongue down my neck and onto my breasts. He sucked and pulled at my nipples, twisting the barbell piercings. The slight twinge of pain sent electric shocks to my core. With his tongue attached to my nipple, he reached over to the nightstand to grab another condom. He rocked back on his knees and spread my legs, gazing at my wetness while he put the latex over his cock.
“Noah,” I gasped. His finger dipped into my slit, finding me more than ready for him.
“Stay with me.” The rough command in his voice, combined with the flick of his fingers to my clit, had me screaming, “Yes!”
He pushed into me so quickly, I gasped sharply. He stared into my eyes with each stroke, with each roll of his hips. It was intense, and very intimate. Different than any other time we’d had sex. It almost felt like we were making love. The tension built, and we crested each wave of pleasure until we exploded together.
This time, I let him pull me into his arms, and sighed when he placed a kiss on my temple. Noah was the guy that any woman would dream of having in her bed. His skills were unmatched by any of my previous lovers, but at the same time, he
was one of the best guys I’d ever met. He didn’t hold back, whether in bed or in a bar brawl. And good Lord, his laugh. He had the same juvenile sense of humor I did. He was the perfect guy.
But not for me. He didn’t know who I was. He didn’t know anything about my life, my job, or hell, even my real name. Noah only knew me as Kate Parker, a junior assistant for a real estate investment firm, from Toledo, Ohio. That was my story for being here, the reason for me being gone so often. After I left, the Kate Parker he knew would be a memory, just like all the other names I’d used.
Sure, I could have told Noah the truth, that I’d been living a lie for the past three years, that I was constantly putting myself and those I loved in danger. That a man I loved like a brother was presumed dead, but was really tortured in Hell at the hands of a drug cartel. Thankfully, he was home now, in the arms of his wonderful and kick-ass girlfriend. But he lived in fear of that cartel, the same cartel I would give my life to bring down.
The reality was that I couldn’t tell Noah the truth. It was bad enough I had my family worried about me. I couldn’t do that to someone I cared so deeply about. Reality will be here soon enough. Let me stay in this dream for just a little bit longer.
***
WHEN I WOKE A few hours later, the rays of day peeked through the blinds. I glanced over at Noah, still sound asleep, with his arms wrapped around my waist. How the hell am I going to get out of here without waking the beast? I gingerly slipped out from his grasp, and quickly pulled on my white bra and T-shirt. I couldn’t find my cotton panties in the mess on the floor, but decided to forget about them. I had just slid on my denim miniskirt when I heard a noise. I froze. Thankfully, Noah had just rolled over. With a sad smile, I tiptoed over to him and kissed him lightly on the head, then picked up my purse and flip flops, and headed out of his bedroom, and out of his apartment.
I slowly shut the door, hearing the knob automatically lock behind me, then hurried down the hallway to my own apartment, 415, and immediately shucked off my clothes as soon as the door locked. Noah’s scent, a combination of leather, sea air, and citrus was everywhere—in my nostrils, my clothes, and in my hair. It was a scent that I’d probably never smell again, and it pained me to shower. But, despite my internal struggle to smell like Noah’s sex groupie for the rest of my life, I knew I had to get a move on. A seventeen-hour drive was ahead of me, and Lord knew, a shower would be essential for waking up.