Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1

by Sydney Somers

  “Max?”

  “What are you doing?” She turned around slowly. “You’re cracking jokes and talking about checkers and passing the time like we’re really on vacation. A few hours ago we were fleeing the cops in a stolen car, and that was after you cuffed us together.”

  He nodded, but offered nothing further.

  “You don’t think there is anything weird about setting up a checker board after all that? After what happened earlier?” She blew out a breath.

  Lucas stood and crossed his arms, his expression impossible to read.

  “We’re not friends, Lucas. I’ve managed to keep myself out of trouble until you came along, and just because we’re lying low doesn’t mean we need to keep pretending—”

  “Pretending to what?”

  “Just because I stuck around while you were in the shower doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere with you, least of all back to New York, so whatever angle you’re working—”

  “Angle?” Now he sounded annoyed.

  “Isn’t that what this whole friendly routine is about? Trying to convince me I can trust you?”

  “Contrary to popular belief, I am a friendly guy and you can trust me.”

  She cocked her head. “Who called you earlier?”

  He took a beat too long to answer. “My business partner.”

  “Not your most convincing moment.” She moved past him, but didn’t get very far.

  He snapped his arm out, planting it on top of the table, blocking her. His mouth all but skimmed her temple. “If you’re talking about what happened between is earlier, that wasn’t pretending.”

  Rough and loaded with the same dark sensuality she found far too appealing, his words made it a little harder to drag in her next breath.

  “If I was just stringing you along, do you think I would have let anything stop me from burying myself deep inside you? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since you kissed me this morning.”

  “It was just a kiss,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

  His lips brushed her temple. “Not your most convincing moment.”

  Her eyes slid shut and she held herself perfectly still, wishing she didn’t believe him.

  He moved away from her, returning to the sink. Still trying to slow her racing heart, she watched him fill the sink up and begin washing their dishes. She wanted to laugh at how out of place it seemed given the last twenty-four hours.

  Needing some space, she left him to the few dishes. “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping in the bathroom tonight.”

  Hours later Lucas was wishing that he had slept in the bathroom. Either that or stayed on the couch.

  Out there he wouldn’t feel the warmth of Max’s body, which was pressed close to his, or smell her skin or think the kind of hot, tangled thoughts that were going to get him in trouble.

  And all that was before she shifted in her sleep and rolled to her side. Her T-shirt had ridden up and since he knew her panties were still in front of the woodstove, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind it was her very fine, very bare ass brushing his hip.

  Maybe she hadn’t expected him to leave the couch, but since she’d only sighed sleepily when he crawled into bed, he hadn’t wasted a lot of time contemplating her objections.

  They hadn’t spoken much after they’d eaten. Max kept her distance, and he’d kept his, going so far as to try and settle his six-foot-two frame on a couch made for someone five-foot-ten—tops. It seemed like the smartest move at the time, but that was before he’d lain there trying to figure out why he had gone out of his way to make it clear he wasn’t pretending when it came to how much he wanted her.

  No matter how long he’d stared at the ceiling, he couldn’t come up with a reason except that he wanted to be honest with her about something. Something that had nothing to do with Cara or Blackwater or the job he still had to do.

  That right there was how he knew he was in trouble. If his attraction to Max was based solely on physical chemistry, he wouldn’t be worried about being honest with her about anything. He’d keep his dick in his pants and follow orders.

  And he wouldn’t be lying next to her clenching his jaw every time she moved, and at the same time hoping each shift would bring her closer.

  With another restless sigh, Max rolled to her other side, facing him. He turned toward her, barely able to make out her features in the dark. She released a sharp breath, then another, mumbling something he didn’t understand.

  He brushed her hair off her face. “You’re okay, Max.”

  She made another sound of distress, but stilled after that, her breathing growing deeper and more even. He lay there watching her until his own eyes grew tired and he drifted off.

  It was still dark when his eyes snapped open. Lucas didn’t move, trying to pinpoint what had awakened him.

  Next to him, Max cried out.

  “Hey,” he said softly, coaxing her closer.

  “No!” She thrashed against his grip, surprising him.

  “Max.”

  “No. Please…” She continued to struggle even when he tightened his hold. “Don’t! Stop!” Her voice continued to rise.

  Worried he would hurt her if he continued to try and keep her still, he relaxed his grip. “Come on, Max. Wake up.”

  She screamed, and the chilling sound was like a blow to the chest. He sat up, reaching for the light, and she bolted upright on a cry.

  “It’s okay. Just a dream.” He found her hand, half relieved something had succeeded in waking her.

  “Lucas?”

  “You’re okay. Nothing but a bad—”

  She threw her arms around him, tucking her face against his throat. “Not just a dream.” She struggled to catch her breath. “Always the same…always so real,” she sobbed, her body trembling.

  “Tell me,” he coaxed, wishing like hell the sick feeling in his gut had nothing to do with her nightmare.

  Max shook her head. “I can’t save her. No matter how hard I try, I can never save her.”

  Christ. He squeezed her tight, not wanting to hear what he knew was coming, but he suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of Max suffering alone. “You did everything you could.”

  “No.” It was only a whisper.

  His throat felt wet and he knew then she was crying.

  “I couldn’t get to her, Lucas. They had me, and I tried so hard to get to her, and then—” she shuddered, the words coming between broken sobs.

  Oh, Jesus. He’d assumed she’d been there that night, but this…

  “—and then I knew it was too late. I couldn’t watch her die, but they made me.” Her whole body shook, her arms locked around him like he was her only lifeline in a raging storm. “They made me watch what that bastard did to her, made me watch her being cut over and over. I couldn’t save her.”

  His throat burned, and for a painful minute he wasn’t sure who was holding on tighter.

  Finally her shaking began to ease. “I tried not to let her see how scared I was, but what he did…”

  It was impossible to get any words out, so he held her until she slowly calmed. Even then he wasn’t ready to let go and tugged her down beside him, keeping one arm wrapped around her. They lay that way for a long time and he wasn’t sure which of them was more afraid of her falling back asleep.

  “I’ll be back.” Her arms tightened around him briefly, and then she climbed off the bed.

  Not liking where his thoughts began to drift the second he was alone, he got up, trailing her into the living area.

  She stood at the sink, an open bottle of water in her hand. He didn’t bother asking if she was okay. He knew she wasn’t. Neither one of them were.

  She didn’t look at him when he stepped up beside her, but held up the bottle of water. He took a long drink, letting the cool water slide down his throat as though it could wash away the hurt and guilt Max’s nightmare had awakened.

  He handed the bottle back and their fingers brushed. It shouldn’t h
ave meant anything, but he felt the connection like a brand on his skin. His body reacted like she’d just slowly sucked one of his fingers into her mouth, leaving him in a bizarre state of sadness and arousal.

  The latter frustrated him, that even after the nightmare, he couldn’t keep from wanting her. He could have told himself that thinking about Max, about brushing up against her just to feel that shock of sensation flood his system, meant he wouldn’t think about Cara’s death.

  But the truth was nothing he did now or next week or next year was ever going to bury what he’d just learned deep enough. He’d carry it with him, always, the same as he did the other scars he’d earned over the years.

  Acknowledging that made some of the pressure weighing on his lungs ease up a bit. Too bad it didn’t make it easier to put some space between him and Max. Giving her room, even a handful of feet was harder than it should have been.

  He leaned against the counter feeling his guilt rise as he studied her face, noting the smudged mascara under her eyes. He wasn’t sure how a dunk in the river and her shower afterward hadn’t taken it all off. Industrial strength make-up maybe.

  She looked tired and emotionally wrung out, and while he may not have put those nightmares in her head, he’d dragged her out of hiding and forced her to face the past she’d been running from. Without the attitude and cutting one-liners she always seemed poised to deliver, it was easy to see that everything had taken its toll on her, and all he wanted to do was kiss her and make it better.

  Christ, he was an ass. She was standing there, toying with the bottle in her hand, looking unsure of herself and all he could think about was kissing her. And not some sweet, I’m-here-for-you kiss. No, his imagination had cruised over that and jumped right to the part where she had her tongue halfway down his throat.

  Ass.

  He exhaled and glanced at the floor. Max put the half empty bottle in the fridge and then stared out the window above the sink. Outside the rain had slowed, only gently tapping the glass now.

  She finally looked at him, and his pulse jumped ahead a few beats. God, she was beautiful. Blond hair, black hair, smudged make-up or nothing but a heart-stopping grin on her face. Just…beautiful.

  Inside of five seconds he was right back to wanting to kiss her again. She moved toward him and his heart pounded in his chest, the beat growing faster and wilder with every step she took.

  Pushing up on her toes, she leaned into him, her lips grazing his cheek in a brief kiss that still managed to lock his feet to the floor.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “Hold you?”

  When she nodded, he grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Wasn’t exactly a hardship.” Not like this was, with her body tucked close and her mouth right there. He tried to satisfy the need to touch her by brushing her hair over her shoulder. “You should try to get some sleep.”

  They both should, but he doubted it would come easy for him unless he stuck to the couch.

  “We should,” she agreed. “I’m just not tired.”

  “I’m not—”

  Her lips teased across his jaw.

  “—tired either,” he managed, holding himself still in case he’d somehow imagined she’d kissed him a second time. Or a third time, this one whispering across his mouth.

  Dumbstruck or simply afraid to chase her off, he was slow to respond, his body already tuned in to anticipating where her mouth would touch next.

  Exquisite, light kisses ignited his blood, and when she caught his face in her hands and sealed her mouth over his, he nearly spontaneously combusted on the spot.

  He ran his hand down her back and beneath her shirt. Every attempt to try and reign himself in failed spectacularly. Max didn’t seem to mind though, each silken slide of her tongue pushing him right into the fast lane.

  Groaning against her mouth, he knew without a doubt they weren’t stopping this time. They weren’t even slowing down. It was almost as if they’d released the pause button, only his internal temperature was running a hundred degrees hotter now.

  Seemed like they only needed to share the same oxygen and he was hard and hot for her. So fucking hot.

  Max tugged at the drawstring on his shorts, working them down over his hips. She closed her hand around him, pumping her fist the length of his shaft in slow, greedy pulls. He had her shirt off in between the hoarse groans that rumbled up from his chest.

  The T-shirt hit the floor and his gaze trailed over her full breasts, her hard nipples, and he drew his thumb across each tip.

  She moaned against his lips, meting out equal torture with her hand. He rocked his hips, pushing his cock harder into her grip and telling himself the whole time that he wasn’t going to explode in her hand.

  God, it was too soon. They’d barely gotten started and he was losing his mind to the carnal rhythm. He should have been fine, would have been fine, but there was more than heat consuming every cell in his body. There wasn’t a name for it, just a feeling, and his brain was too close to overload to waste a single circuit trying to puzzle it out.

  But it was real and overwhelming and so damn good.

  So damn right.

  Something was wrong, Max thought. She just wasn’t sure if it was because things where moving too fast or not fast enough.

  So help her, she hadn’t planned on this happening again. What he’d done for her in the bedroom, the way he’d held her so carefully, so protectively, affected her almost as much as the nightmare.

  The kiss hadn’t been any more intentional than what followed, but when it was over, she hadn’t been able to tell herself to let go of him. Lucas had turned her life upside down, so why did it feel like she was actually living it for the first time in months?

  Living it. Craving it.

  Craving him.

  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck, lingering there, drawing out the slow slide until she could barely feel him moving. She dropped her head back, moaning at the sweet suction that had her squeezing her legs together—right up until he cupped her sex, lazily stroking his fingers along her cleft.

  There was no holding back her hiss of pleasure. She bit her lip, and he slid down to her opening where she was already wet for him. Wet for him since the second she felt his rough jaw graze her cheek.

  He broke from her mouth, dipping down to circle her nipple with his tongue.

  Oh god. Please…

  His lips closed around her and he pulled her deep into his mouth, sucking slow and long.

  “Lucas—” Whatever she’d been about to say evaporated on her lips as he thrust two fingers inside her.

  Electrifying pleasure shot through her. She released her hold on him, grabbing the edge of the table she came up against. She hadn’t even realized they’d moved at all. She’d been too wrapped up in what he was doing with his mouth.

  After one more hungry tug at her breast, he slanted his mouth across hers. His hand worked between her thighs, sliding in and out, and the first hot edge of release skated across her nerve endings.

  She moaned against his mouth, pulling him closer, happy to drown in the kiss that was dragging her under. She felt him everywhere, filling her up with his tongue and his fingers, his body rubbing up against hers. All she could think about was the next touch, the next slide of his mouth, the next thrust into her sex.

  Without drawing back, he lifted her onto the table and wedged himself between her thighs.

  “I—” More than once she tried to ease away from his mouth only to be coaxed back every time. “We need…” Something. God help her she wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t think. She knew things, damn it. Guns. Drugs. Bad guys. Good guys.

  Hot guys.

  Insanely intense hot guys. One in particular that she needed to feel inside her.

  “On the counter behind you,” she murmured finally, then caught the tip of his tongue between her lips, sucking him back into her mouth.

  He groaned. “Already got o
ne.”

  Jesus the man was slick. It was one of the first things she’d noticed about him, and there was no other way to describe how he’d snagged a condom from the ripped open box on the counter when he’d barely taken his hands off her.

  “And when did you figure out you were going to need one.”

  “When that kiss in the diner damn near knocked me on my ass.”

  Hearing the kiss had been just as mind-blowing for him made her even hotter. She heard him sheath himself, then felt the full head of his cock slide along her folds.

  Her inner muscles clenched in greedy anticipation.

  Mouth on hers, he pushed up inside her in one smooth thrust. For a crazy second everything stopped. Stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking. Only the riot of sensation continued, coiling around her, through her, tighter…tighter.

  He felt so incredible inside her, she looped her arms around him, tucking her face against his throat and kissing him there. And then he was moving, filling her up over and over, his cock so hard and getting so deep.

  He wrapped an arm around her back, anchoring her, and then he started pumping his hips, each thrust becoming faster, harder. His body pressed her back against the table, his strong arms keeping her up just enough to create the perfect angle.

  Fierce satisfaction glittered in the eyes watching every move she made, every harsh catch of breath and arch of her spine. Then he tilted her hips just a fraction and she cried out.

  A smile that bordered on feral curved his lips, his pace almost punishing. And god she loved it. She slid her hands down his back, to his ass and pulled him even tighter. He growled in approval, pounding into her.

  She arched up seeking the release that hovered just out of reach, and the friction hit in all the right places.

  Yes.

  The shattering climax went on and on, and she hauled him to down to meet her mouth. She poured herself into the kiss, crying out when he used her wetness to get impossibly deep.

  Lucas groaned and drove into her over and over, his body finally shuddering and pressing her flat on the table.

  Their crazy kiss slowed, but he didn’t move and she didn’t want him to. Wanted instead to keep him close for as long as she could.