She retreated back to the living room, pausing at the small bar in the corner to pour herself a glass of sherry. It was a stupid habit. Her mother had a glass of sherry before bedtime each night, and she used to watch, thinking how much fun it would be to do the same when she was grown. And when she was an adult, she bought a bottle of sherry just to see what it tasted like. It wasn’t quite as enjoyable as she’d always imagined as a small child, but it was a taste that grew on her—and now it just didn’t seem right to go bed without it.
She could hear him moving around in his room; she could hear the little squeak of his wheels on the wood floor. She wanted to go back and make sure he got into that tall bed without any issues, but he was fiercely independent, something she could wholeheartedly understand. They were a lot alike in that accord.
Her bedroom was quiet. Empty. The furnishings in this room were Spartan. Just a low bed and a small television hanging on the wall. No chairs. No dressers or side tables. She didn’t have them in her old apartment and didn’t see the need for them here. Just the necessities.
She undressed, rehanging her suit jacket and tossing the rest in the clothes hamper. In the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, she found herself staring at her body in a way she hadn’t done in a long time. The scars had all faded, some so much so that she could barely see them—even in this bright light. But she knew exactly where they were.
Did he have scars? Clearly he was burdened by something, guilt maybe. But she wondered if there were scars on his body from the accident, bright, gnarly marks that reminded him of what he’d done, of what’d happened that night. She wondered if he touched them late in the night like she once did, remembering each and every ordeal they represented.
Would he touch her scars and ask how they happened? Or would he simply pretend they didn’t exist?
She’d had lovers. Once. The ones who asked were the ones she never saw again. But now…a part of her wanted him to ask.
Him. She’d known him all of, what? Eight hours? And she was already having thoughts about him she’d never entertained about anyone else.
She walked back into the bedroom and was startled to find him sitting just inside the doorway.
“I was—”
He began to speak, but then his eyes moved over the length of her body, reminding her that she was naked except for the tiny lace panties that still clung to her hips. She should have crossed her arms over her chest and pretended to have some sense of humility. But she didn’t. She wanted him to look.
“Is there something you need?”
His eyes lingered on her breasts a moment longer, then he cleared his throat and turned his chair slightly so that his eyes fell on the bed instead.
“I was just going to ask if you mind if I slept on the couch instead.”
“The bed’s too high?”
“It’s a bit tall, yes.”
She walked over to her bed, aware of his eyes on her again. She tugged the blankets down, exposing the almost silky Egyptian cotton sheets underneath.
“You could sleep here,” she said without looking at him.
“I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your own bed.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that.”
A heavy silence fell between them. She was afraid she’d stepped over a line. She knew she’d stepped over a line. But there was a part of her that believed they both needed something, and only the other could supply it. Was that a stupid thing to think? She wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t taken a chance like this in a long time, and her heart was pounding, threatening to explode and end it all.
And then she heard him move. He rolled his chair to the other side of the bed, locking the wheels as he stopped close to the edge of the mattress, stripping his t-shirt over his head and bending to remove his sneakers before lifting himself onto the bed. He did it so gracefully that it was fluid, smooth, like he’d done it a million times before.
Without a word, she snapped off the lights and curled up against her pillows, dragging the blankets up to her shoulders as she rolled onto her side, facing him. She couldn’t see him initially, but she could hear him breathing. There was movement, then he reached over and touched the side of her face with the back of his hand. He’d removed his gloves, but she could still smell the leather on his flesh. It was almost comforting, that smell.
She ran her fingers up the inside of his arm, hesitating when her fingertips brushed the inside of his wrist where his pulse was so steady, so strong and filled with life. He moved and her fingers slid over the palm of his hand. With just the slightest twist, their fingers were intertwined, the heat of his body warming something deep inside of her.
She slid closer to him across the mattress, stopping only when her breast brushed his ribs. She wanted to feel warm all over. She wanted to feel his vitality deep inside of her. She didn’t know how to seduce a man like him, but boldness had never failed her.
She pressed her lips to the back of his hand, then to that quickening pulse in his wrist. Then her lips found the curve of his shoulder, his muscles twitching just underneath. His chest had benefited quite magnificently from the constant use of his arms to push himself around, his pecs rounded and hard, his abs defined in a way that made her fingers ache to trace the deep ridges and valleys. She slid her lips over one of those perfect pecs, her tongue sneaking a taste of his hardened nipple.
David made a little noise, his fingers tightening on hers for an instant. Then he twisted his torso a little, freeing his hand so he could draw her jaw up toward his face. His breath was warm with a faint, minty scent clinging to it. The first touch of his lips on hers was enough to make her breath catch almost painfully in her throat. And then again, the pressure a little more insistent, the touch lingering. She rolled into him, resting her leg over his as she drew his bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling it ever so lightly. Again he made that small noise, even as his hand came up to the back of her head, drawing her closer to him.
It may have been a few years since he’d had a woman in his bed, but he hadn’t forgotten how to kiss. He knew what he was doing; he knew where to touch her to make her heart jump and her nerve endings suddenly come alive. She slid closer to him, pushing the blankets out of her way, pressing herself as tight against his side as she could. He still wore his jeans and the hard denim was rough against the most delicate parts of her body. But she pressed herself against him, raising her leg higher across his until her thigh brushed against his erection.
He hooked his hand under her knee and brought her leg up even higher, purposely rubbing her thigh against him, then sliding his hand along the underside of her thigh, his fingers sliding under the back of her panties. And all this as he continued to kiss her, as he continued to touch her in places she had never been touched.
Was it possible to want someone so completely that you forgot everything that was once so important to you? She no longer cared about the security breach, about her angry employees, about her past. All she cared about in this moment was where his fingers would go next. Her world had shrunk to this impossibly small bit of awareness. She just wanted him to touch her.
And he did. His fingers slipped along her ass, sliding slowly forward, seeking out more. She moved her hips, encouraging him. The angle was all wrong, but he fixed that by moving his hand around her hipbone, sliding his fingers down the front of her panties until he brought a hiss from deep in her throat, until his fingertip brushed almost innocently over her swollen clit.
His mouth slid to her chin, moving along her jaw until her earlobe was caught between his teeth. And then her throat, his lips doing things that sent shivers up and down her spine. So much pleasure. She had never known there could be so much pleasure coming from so many places all at once. She ran her hand over his chest, playing with the thin patch of hair between his pecs, her hand smoothing its way downward until her fingertips brushed the top edge of his jeans. He groaned as she slid them under his waistband, just brushing the top edge of the base of his shaft.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
He didn’t answer. He just stole her lips again, making them his.
She rolled into him, pressing her body into his as she took a position on his chest. His arms both slid around her, both his hands sneaking under the back of her panties. She adjusted herself, pressed her clit against the swelling in his jeans.
Damn, it felt good!
They kissed for a long few moments, their tongues dancing. She rocked her hips, pressing herself hard against him, loving the feel of it, loving the feel of him. She wanted him inside of her, and she could feel just how much he wanted her. And she wasn’t going to take no for an answer again.
She reached between their bodies, unsnapped the top of his jeans. She could feel him watching her, as she sat up a little, giving herself better access. His hands were on her hips now, and one moved to help her move his inconvenient clothing out of the way. She’d forgotten about her own cock-blocking piece of clothing until his shaft was in her hand and she was trying to guide him inside. He groaned as he hooked his fingers under the front of her panties and yanked. They tore away like they were made of paper, these thirty-dollar panties that were supposed to be of the highest quality. But she didn’t really care at the moment. She was so desperate to feel him inside of her; she was just grateful to have the damn things out of the way.
And then…oh, God!
She sat up straight as he slid inside of her, rolling her head back, her eyes closed even as they rolled back in their sockets. She couldn’t remember a time when anything felt as good as that moment felt. She couldn’t imagine anything better, until his hands moved over her belly and he pressed his thumbs hard against her clit. She thought she might scream, the pleasure was that overwhelming, that powerful. It was pure heaven.
She sat still for a long few minutes, trying to catch her breath. He wiggled his hips a couple of times, reminding her he was still there. But how could she possibly forget?
She pressed her hands to his chest and began to rock her hips, grinding herself against him, and then raising her hips in small increments, experimenting with different angles, different movements. When she found one that touched all the right things deep inside of her, she stuck with it, moving into a steady rhythm that made his breath quicken and brought tiny little moans from his lips.
It wasn’t long before she felt the familiar tightness that she knew was the beginnings of that wave of pleasure everyone wants to ride. Too fast. She wanted it to last forever; she wanted to feel him inside of her for so much longer. But it was coming fast, and there was nothing she could do to slow it down. And when it hit, there was no stopping the sounds that slipped from her lips. Her muscles convulsed, her body tugging at him until he couldn’t jump out of the way. She was barely aware of his body writhing and stiffening under her. And then he was riding the same wave, filling her quickly and confidently, his two-year dry spell officially over.
She shrugged, her tongue sliding slowly over her lips as the memory burned on her cheeks and in her eyes. She couldn’t resist teasing him.
“I don’t know. I guess it might have been there, at the back of my mind.”
He sighed, his thoughts forced back to the subject at hand. “I just…I hate having to get mean with one of our operatives. Alexander has been a great employee from day one, never questioning me, never defying any of my instructions. But this—”
“Maybe it’s love. Maybe they’ll end up like us.”
“Maybe. But I can’t have him on the case if his personal feelings could get in the way.”
“Well, that’s always a danger. I don’t think it’s natural for a man and woman to spend as much time together as some of our operatives do with their targets and not develop some feelings.”
“But they’re professionals.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that they all have hearts.”
David sighed, burying his face against her chest. “We’re not going to survive if this keeps happening though. Then our operatives won’t want to go out into the field anymore, and we’ll have to hire new ones and go through the same thing again. Just like Ash.”
“You’re not in competition with your brother, you know. It wouldn’t be a bad thing if you did some things like him.”
David sat back and studied his wife’s face. “You know nothing about sibling rivalry.”
She ran her finger down the bridge of his nose. “I know plenty. I have two siblings, remember?”
“But you haven’t seen them in years.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t remember the fights we used to have.” She kissed him gently. “Call that guy, that Kipling guy. Maybe he’ll have a few suggestions for you.”
She climbed off his lap and headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To feed our son, Mr. Grayson. But I shall return. After you make your phone call.”
He groaned, but when she was gone, he reached for the phone. He’d already called Kipling McKay twice and been politely, but sternly, turned down both times. He took a deep breath as he dialed, thinking that the third time was supposed to be the charm.
The phone was answered sharply on the second ring.
“Kipling McKay.”
“Mr. McKay, this is David Grayson.”
David waited for the groan that he imagined was coming, but he didn’t hear it. Instead, Kipling asked politely, “How can I help you tonight, Mr. Grayson?”
“As I explained to you during our other conversations, I’m in dire need of help in running my security firm. We had an incident today that clearly underscores the trouble we have with the management of the firm. If we could—?”
“What incident?”
David sat up a little straighter, wondering if he’d finally gotten the man’s attention. He quickly described the situation, what he knew of it, stressing how the target gave away the address of the safe house and what the results were.
“Well, first of all, you shouldn’t allow your clients to keep their cell phones, especially after they’re moved to a safe house. Second, you should place some sort of motion detection on the windows. If a target can get out a window, a threat could get in. Third, you probably shouldn’t give your targets so much space inside a safe house. The operative should have eyes on the target at all times.”
David smiled despite himself. This man sounded just like Ash.
“Thank you, Mr. McKay.”
“Of course.”
“Would you consider coming into the office, checking out our operations? I’m sure that’s just the tip of the iceberg—”
The call disconnected before David could get all the words out of his mouth.
This was going to be a bit of a struggle, but he was more confident now than he had been before that he’d eventually be able to convince Kipling McKay to join GWS 2.
Chapter 15
Tierney
I was sitting on a chair in the backyard. I shouldn’t have been out there, but I felt like I was suffocating inside. I hated that Alexander wasn’t here. I hated that David had taken him off the case and forced him to leave the house. I hated that Knox was here, moving around in the kitchen like this was a normal day, like this was a normal relationship. Like she hadn’t slept with the man I was pretty sure I was falling head over heels in love with.
It was a tense scene earlier when David pulled Alexander away from me. The cop slipped out while Alexander and I were talking, but the others had just stood there, letting the whole thing sink in. I don’t think any of them really got it until David said something.
“Tell me you’re not involved. Tell me you aren’t breaking all the rules we set up for these operations.”
Alexander hadn’t wanted to even turn away. His hands were still on my face, his thumb touching the split in my lip, making it feel better somehow. But then David grabbed his arm and pulled him out to the garage. We co
uld hear their voices as they yelled at each other. The other two—Knox and Tony—didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves. Knox began to pace a little, and Tony went into the living room, throwing himself into a chair as he turned his attention back to the game on his phone that he found so fascinating.
Silence came almost as suddenly as the confrontation began. David returned, informing me that Knox would be the operative on my case and that Alexander had been dismissed.
“If you want to see him personally, that’s something you’ll have to work out later. For now, he’s off the case.”
He left without waiting for my response.
It was insulting, like going to the doctor and getting a lecture for not eating properly. I was actually paying him to be yelled at like I was a five-year-old child.
No wonder I felt like I couldn’t breathe in that house.
Knox came out and handed me a hot mug.
“Drink it. You’ll feel better.”
I took a sip, shocked to realize that it contained a lot of rum mixed with a little bit of coffee. Knox smiled when I looked up at her.
“My granny’s special remedy for everything that ails.”
She pulled up a chair and curled her body into it, staring out into the darkness of the yard and the city beyond it. It was a quiet night, the stars startlingly clear. The air was a little crisp, like it often was after a storm. But there hadn’t been a storm today. Not out here, anyway.
“I didn’t know,” Knox said, finding something on her jeans very interesting. “About you and Alex. If I had, I wouldn’t have said what I did that first day here at the safe house.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“It’s not. But I appreciate you saying that.”
“Really.” I took another sip of the spiked coffee. “You couldn’t have known.”
“Well, I make it a point not to infringe on other people’s relationships. From now on I’ll be more careful with my comments.”
She seemed really upset by the whole thing. Even though I’d been heartbroken by her comment, I felt bad that she was this upset. I touched her arm lightly, and she glanced at me, her green eyes haunted.
DEFENDING TIERNY (Gray Wolf Security, Texas Book 1) Page 12