Honor

by Jay Crownover

  “Hmm . . .” He got to his feet, which forced me to actually sit up on the desk as he made room for himself between my spread legs. “It looks good on you too, Keelyn.”

  I got ahold of the buttons on the front of his shirt and started meticulously pulling each one free of its hole. Usually I would rip the thing open to get to all that smooth, bronze skin lying underneath, but we had to be somewhere in a little bit and that didn’t leave time for a wardrobe change.

  “Not as good as you look on me, Gates.” I purred the words as he maneuvered the bottom of my dress all the way up to my hips. The glass top of the desk was cold underneath my backside but he was so hot and hard in front of me that I didn’t even notice. When the sides of his shirt fell open, my eyes landed not only on that massive scar that now ran all the way down his breastbone but on the new black-and-gray ink that covered his pectoral muscle right over his heart. An old lock was firmly snapped closed and attached to a thick chain that wound its way in ink all across his chest, over his shoulder, and down to his wrist. He didn’t wear a ring like I did, but that tattoo was his way of telling the world he was taken, locked up and bound, and I was the Key. I had the symbolic key as well. I liked his tattoo so much, was so moved by the gesture, that I had gotten a dainty little skeleton key tattooed on the inside of my wrist. We matched and I loved it.

  He used his finger to push some of my hair out of my face and bent forward to kiss me. I ended up leaning back on my elbows and almost knocking his laptop to the floor. He didn’t seem to notice, so I let him make love to my mouth while his impatient hand tugged at the top of my dress, trying to get at my breasts. The material was too tight for that, so he gave a frustrated groan and bit down on my lip. These were my favorite times with him, when it was half making love and half fucking like wild beings. It fit the two parts of the man he was and I felt it in every touch and every swipe of his tongue along mine.

  Since he couldn’t get at my breasts or the nipples that were pushing against the fabric, all but taunting him, he took a step back and sat back in his chair. I fell all the way back so that my head thunked against the glass when he grabbed each of my ankles in his hard hands and lifted them up so that my fancy purple shoes were next to my bare ass and I was wide open and exposed to his heated gaze. It made me shiver even though I felt like it was a thousand degrees inside the office.

  He started off by kissing the inside of my knee, then trailed his tongue in a searing path up my thigh. It made my skin quiver and my tummy dip. I couldn’t imagine a more wanton and vulnerable position to be in, and that’s what made it so sexy. One of my hands curled into a tight fist of anticipation on my stomach and the other buried itself in the midnight locks at the top of his head. I knew exactly where this was going and knew from experience I needed something to hold on to.

  He blew a hot breath across my slick center and then I felt his teeth nip at the most sensitive part of me. It was a stinging touch that had my back arching and my hand yanking on his soft hair. He just chuckled into my folds and repeated the motion, only to follow it with a penetrating lick of his tongue. The stinging and soothing went on like that until I couldn’t see straight. The tiny burn of pain so quickly followed by the assault of pleasure was making me crazy. I could feel my body shaking, my muscles quivering, everything inside of me getting loose and wet. I was muttering his name over and over like some kind of incantation, and that just drove him on further.

  I felt his fingers slide inside of me. Felt my body drag and pull at him as it begged for release. He curled those talented digits into me and stroked and wiggled until I was sure the top of my head was going to blow off at the double stimulation. I gasped in outrage when all of it was suddenly taken away right on the brink of an orgasm that I was sure would turn me inside out. I was going to scream at him that he better finish what he started when I looked down to see him brushing his mouth and chin, which were shiny with my desire for him, against the inside of my thigh before he climbed back to his feet and yanked his belt off and his pants open.

  I loved when his eyes looked like melted gold and flowed like a river of want and need all over me. I adored when he got impatient and ruffled in his need to be inside of me.

  He grabbed my ankle again and this time maneuvered my leg up so that my foot was resting on his shoulder as he leaned forward and aligned his straining erection with my opening. His hands hit the desk above my shoulders, and as he pressed into me a glint of humor sparked in his eyes.

  “Have I ever told you how happy I am that your years of dancing made you so flexible?”

  If I hadn’t been full of hard cock and on the verge of exploding, I would’ve rolled my eyes at him or maybe smacked him. Instead I grabbed either side of his shirt and pulled him down so I could kiss him as he started to move in and out of me at a frantic pace. The position he had me in let him go so deep that I felt like he was in places he had never been before. I groaned and held on to him even tighter as he began to pound into me hard enough to move us both across the top of the desk.

  We panted into one another. Breathed one another in, and when he pushed himself up just enough to get a hand between where we were joined so he could rub firm circles across my clit with his thumb, that was all it took for me. I came on a breathless wail and in a wash of pleasure so hot and fierce I was surprised it didn’t scald him.

  He kissed me hard, put my other leg up on his shoulder, got better leverage for himself, and hammered into me a few more times until he found his own completion and filled me up in a rush of his desire.

  When we were both replete and wasted, he pulled out of me and I knew he was watching as he did so. He was always watching the different ways we were connected to each other and it always made me feel so special and important when he did.

  He flopped back in his big leather chair and pulled open his desk drawer. Like I said, it wasn’t the first time this desk had been used for funny business instead of real business. We were prepared now. We both cleaned up and got situated back into our clothes. He kissed me hard on the mouth and pulled me down into his lap.

  “We’re going to be late to the party.”

  I rubbed my thumb along his jaw. “Worth it. Besides, the graduate will only have eyes for one person there anyways.”

  He grunted. “Booker. That little girl is almost legal, and once she is, shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

  She laughed. “Yeah. Race keeps trying to encourage her to do a study abroad program, but she isn’t biting.”

  He laughed a little. “Well, some things are worth waiting for. If it’s supposed to happen, then it will when the time is right.”

  Or they were just going to have to make the time right for them like we had done. It would be interesting to see how it all played out once the stunning teenager was out from under Race’s watchful eye.

  We were in the Range Rover just pulling into the parking lot in front of the condos on the docks when a familiar face appeared and seemed to be anxiously awaiting our arrival.

  Stark was pacing back and forth in front of the complex with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and a scowl marring his face behind his glasses.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to get here.” He spoke to Nassir but his gaze swept over me as well. “I need your help.”

  Nassir reached for my hand and tugged me to his side. “What’s the problem?”

  Stark was often called in for security upgrades and other fact-finding ventures Nassir needed him to undertake. I thought I knew the man fairly well but I had never seen him this agitated or upset before. Clearly, neither had Nassir. He looked as confused and wary as I felt.

  “The girl that I brought to you, the street kid that had the info on the kid you were looking for, is missing.”

  I frowned and watched Nassir narrow his eyes at the other man as he asked, “What do you mean missing? She lives on the street. How can you tell?”

  Stark growled and lifted his hands to pull at his hair. “Because she came to me for h
elp and I turned her away. I felt like an ass about it afterward and went to find her to tell her I changed my mind, but she’s nowhere. No one has seen hide nor hair of her. It’s like she vanished off the face of the earth a few weeks ago.”

  I ran my hand up Nasir’s tense arm and told Stark, “She just brought a girl to us. She’s the reason Nassir was able to get the Eastern Europeans out of the Point.”

  His slate-gray eyes sharpened on me. “When was that?”

  Nassir frowned “About two weeks ago.”

  Stark’s pacing slowed down and he let out a deep breath. “Maybe she’s all right, then. I would just like to know for sure. The stuff she was asking me to help her with . . .” He shook his head. “It sounded like pretty bad news.”

  Nassir shifted next to me. “What was she into?”

  Stark cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “She helps kids in bad situations get out. Her newest project wasn’t some reject from the Point or even some lost rich kid from the Hill. It was Julia Grace.”

  I balked not because Noe was doing exactly the same thing I was doing with far less resources but because the name Stark dropped was very familiar. I felt Nassir go stone still next to me. “The mayor’s teenage stepdaughter, Julia Grace?”

  Stark nodded. “Yeah. Noe says the girl is in bad shape. I guess the mayor is one messed-up asshole and the girl needs out of the house and out of town. Noe wanted me to hack into a government database and pull a bunch of sealed military records on the guy. I told her no, mostly to be a dick since she hocked all my stuff. But like I said, I had a change of heart and now I can’t find her. I think she might be in trouble, but if you just saw her maybe it’s not as bad as I’m making it out to be.”

  I groaned. “This is the Point . . . it’s probably worse than you think it is. Two weeks is a long time to be missing.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Nassir swore and pulled me to him so that he could wrap his arm around me. Every time he heard about a woman in trouble or being hurt, he always wanted me as close as I could get.

  “I’ll put some of my guys on it, put the word out that I’m looking for her. I’ll help you find her if she’s still in town.”

  “And if she’s in trouble?” Stark sounded desperate.

  “Then I’ll help you get her out of it.” And he would. Stark seemed to know it too because he muttered a hasty “thank you” and disappeared back across the parking lot.

  I squeezed Nassir around the waist and turned my face into his throat. “I love it when you’re a real boy.”

  I felt his lips brush the top of my head. “You made me that way.”

  I sighed in contentment. I adored being his conscience and his better half. I loved that our love was his tether to his humanity and the small measure of morality that he managed to hold on to after everything that had happened to him. I would happily spend the rest of my days keeping my devil away from most forms of damnation but occasionally I wanted to run wild and be hedonistic with him on Pleasure Island. After all, it was only fitting that I gave the devil his due after the patience he showed while he waited for me to grow and mature into a woman that could stand by his side and give just as good as she got. I would spend every second of every day we had together giving it to him.

  Author’s Note

  I LOVE THIS BOOK SO MUCH!!!

  That is all . . . I hope you enjoyed reading Nassir and Key as much as I enjoyed writing them.

  This world of the Point holds a special and important place in my heart. Sometimes an author really does have to write the story in her head and in her heart and hope for the best because something else might be what her audience is after. In this case, I had a different book due and a different series I was supposed to be working on. I should have been able to walk away from the Point and to focus on something that didn’t tie my guts in knots . . . but I couldn’t.

  I was compelled to write this book. Possessed by the story and the characters, so much so that I couldn’t even remember the names of the characters in the other book I was supposed to be writing. Maybe it was because I was in a shaky place emotionally and creatively. The darkness and despair in the Point were oddly comforting, and writing a man and a woman that cared so little about anyone else’s definition of success because they had such a singular vision of what that word meant to them actually helped propel me onward and upward. Writing this book made me a better writer, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I think writing it has made me a better person as well.

  This story reminded me that I will always be the girl who goes her own way . . . even when that way is an uphill climb. Because the view at the end can be that much more rewarding for the effort it took to get to it.

  Acknowledgments

  Oh, my brave and daring readers, the ones who stick with me through thick and thin, who never waver and never falter . . . this book is for you.

  You inspire me, you encourage me, you impress me, you delight me, and if you are here at the end of this book with me . . . anticipating the next one, you fulfill me and give meaning not only to my life but to my career and words. If you are here at the end of this book with me, you mean more to me than words can ever express . . . Thank you for taking a chance on something new and letting me grow and flourish.

  Reading a book might not seem like such a big thing . . . but when it’s this book, in this series, it’s HUGE . . . so huge, and it matters so much to me.

  I wish there were better words than “thank you” because I would shower you all with them.

  I have to give my bestie, Heather; my very magical story sensei, Denise; and the fantastic Vilma a special thank you for reading this book in its infancy (a long, long time ago), when it was an ugly, sloppy mess. There was a lot of carnage on the page and in my mind as I was trying to tell this story, and these ladies were a huge help to me in getting it hammered out. My rough drafts are always exactly that . . . this one was the worst of the bunch . . . fitting for the man painted on the pages, I guess.

  I also owe Cora Carmack a few beers and a couple hugs for listening to me ramble on about plot points and backstory in between whining about how hard it was to get right. Not to mention endless texts and swearwords when I couldn’t make it work.

  Amanda (seriously, I can’t believe that you’re still here sometimes and that I haven’t scared you away), Jessie, Caroline, Molly, Elle, KP, Stacey, and Melissa . . . thanks for never wavering, for staying the course, for navigating the waters no matter how choppy and treacherous they might get. Thanks for your faith and belief when I have none of my own. Thanks for reminding me this is a team sport when I often feel like I’m playing, winning, and losing solo. I push and you guys push harder. We got a good thing going, so let’s see how long we can keep it up.

  Thanks to the best folks a girl could have . . . if you see them at an event with me, give them a squeeze and tell them Jay loves them and tell my dad his mustache is cool . . . it really is the coolest.

  Hey, Mike, you rock; I couldn’t make it through most weeks without you, no joke. Thank you for always being rock solid, for being there, and for being my go-to guy for all things. Thanks for being the best movie date ever and for always sharing the popcorn.

  To all the authors who are so disgustingly talented and so inordinately gracious with their time and gifts, thank you for being my inspirations and my friends. You are all brilliant and who you are as people as well as storytellers is unparalleled. This huge thanks and virtual hug goes out to Jennifer Armentrout, Jenn Foor, Jenn Cooksey, Jen McLaughlin, Tiffany King, Tina Gephart, Tillie Cole, Joanna Wylde, Kylie Scott, Cora Carmack, Emma Hart, Renee Carlino, Penelope Douglas, Kristen Proby, Amy Jackson, Nichole Chase, Tessa Bailey, J. Daniels, Rebecca Shea, Kristy Bromberg, Adriane Leigh, Laurelin Page, EK Blair, SC Stephens, Molly McAdams, Crystal Perkins, Tijan, Karina Halle, Christina Lauren, Chelsea M. Cameron, Sophie Jordan, Daisy Prescott, Michelle Valentine, Monica Murphy, Erin McCarthy, Liliana Hart, Laura Kaye,
Heather Self, and Kathleen Tucker. Seriously, I admire every author on this list, and what they add to this business and to my writerly life. If you are looking for a solid book to read, I promise one of theirs won’t disappoint.

  Last but not least, thanks to my furry little entourage for being my heart and putting up with my office renovation, which made us all miserable during the revisions of this book. Woof!

  If you would like to contact me, there are a bazillion places you can do so!

  Check my website for updates, release dates, and all my events:

  www.jaycrownover.com

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  Stark’s story coming soon in Dignity . . .

  Keep reading for an exclusive sneak peek at the next Saints of Denver novel from New York Times bestselling author Jay Crownover,

  RIVETED

  Everyone else in Dixie Carmichael’s life has made falling in love look easy, and now she is ready for her own chance at some of that happily ever after. Which means she’s done pining for the moody, silent former soldier who works with her at the bar that’s become her home away from home. Nope. No more chasing the hot-as-heck thundercloud of a man and no more waiting for Mr. Right to find her; she’s going hunting for him . . . even if she knows her heart is stuck on its stupid infatuation with Dash Churchill.