Connor released his legs, and his cock shot to attention without the constriction of his boxers.
Claire reached for it, stroking the head as Connor dipped his head back and closed his eyes tight. She wrapped her hand around the shaft and worked up and down in slow, deliberate strokes, stopping at the top to tease the tip.
"I can't wait." Connor lifted his head. He cuffed her hands in his and pressed them to the bed on either side of her head. His tip rubbed the sensitive, pulsing flesh of her clit, covering itself in her cum before he pressed in slow until he was seated completely inside her. This time the burn was less, and as he filled her, Claire comfortably stretched around his length, taking him deeper than she thought possible until she felt him fill her completely.
She closed her eyes and rolled her head back into the pillow, arching her back to take all of him with each slow, steady thrust, accelerating his rhythm until he worked feverishly against her. Her breathing became a pant. Her hips moved against his, milking the hot cum she craved from the pulse of his erection against her tightened walls. She rode him stronger, faster, deeper until Conner's head jerked back, and a moan tore through his throat to shatter the silence of their act.
Several more thrusts sent her over the edge alongside him, her spasms amplified by the fullness of him pressing against her walls and the rough pads of his fingers digging into the curve of her outer hips.
God, he'd ruined her. She'd never be the same. Never believe love wasn't worth fighting for again because when Connor finally opened his eyes, it wasn't lust she found shining in his unshed tears. And that look of something deeper than desire rocked her to the core.
For the first time in her life, she had something to fear losing, and that thought made her vulnerable and scared as hell of what came next.
10
Connor woke to a weight on his arm, and warmth splayed across his bare chest. The scent of girly shampoo and sex hit his nose before he opened his eyes to find Claire wrapped around him. Her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted, one arm lying delicately across his chest, the other pressed up against his side.
He'd fallen asleep holding her, raking his fingers through the length of her hair as he watched her drop her guard and fall into a deep sleep in his arms. When he tried to move her hand clenched around his side, she snuggled in closer.
He was fucked. He leaned his head back on the headboard and closed his eyes, cursing himself for letting this happen. She'd been so scared and so brave, and she'd begged for his comfort, and he couldn't tell her no. But he should have. Sleeping with her wasn't going to keep her safe. This was going to break her.
This was going to break him.
He reached a hand to his temples and pressed at the pressure, trying to force the tension from them. In weeks if not days, he'd be back in Nashville, acclimating to the screwed up life he'd left there. While they waited for Henry's trial, he'd be kept undercover, and that would mean away from Claire.
Fuck. Connor fisted his hand and slammed it against the wall. He's welcomed her in knowing it wouldn't last. Knowing she'd been disappointed before. He'd listened to his heart and his cock instead of what made sense, and his body had made promises his life couldn't keep.
She didn't even know the truth about who he was, and he'd helped her fall hard for him...and his lie.
Claire sturred next to him. Her body stretched against his side, and her hand moved across his chest, lifting every curled hair along the way and sending sparks of fire through his skin.
Her sleepy moan made his heart pound, and his cock throbbed as her movement stirred the scent of them together around him.
"What time is it," she yawned before looking up with eyes so innocent and pure he thought he could drop himself within their depths and never return to the real world again.
"Still early," he smiled, thinking he should get up and make a pot of coffee, then deciding watching her hatch from sleep was far more stimulating.
Claire lifted off him, and he missed her instantly. His muscles clenched with the need to pull her back underneath him. To keep her safe in his bed, away from everything that could ever hurt her again until realization sunk in, and he dropped the hand that had reached for her.
The real danger wasn't out there waiting for her to walk into it. The real threat was lying in the bed next to her, sucking her in with empty promises and impossible dreams.
Connor steeled himself against the effects of her soft body curled against his hard one and tossed the sheet off his legs. In seconds he had his boxers and pants off the floor and back where they belonged shielding Claire from his body.
"What time does the paper open," he asked, tugging Claire's clothes free from where they'd landed under his boots and handing them to her. "I'll go in with you. You get what you need to write up your story, and we'll make sure it runs in tomorrow's paper."
Claire's eyes widened, and her hand flew to her chest, where the sheet covered just above the rise of her breast. "If I publish what I know...I can't leave out how I got to Henry and still sound credible. Jacob won't publish the story unless there is irrefutable proof I'm telling the truth."
Connor's stomach flipped. He pulled his shirt over his shoulders and turned away from her to button it up. "Tell everything. How you met him the first night at the party. How he asked you back for lunch. What you witnessed in the front room. Every detail you can think of."
"It won't be enough."
"It will." He couldn't face her. He stepped into the doorway heading toward the kitchen before he spoke again. "I'll give you the rest. Everything I've learned in six months of working for him. You'll have names, facts, dates. No one will be able to doubt your article when I'm done giving you information."
The bed creaked, and warmth fell over his shoulder, but he only turned enough to catch the confusion on her face before he turned back to the kitchen. "I'm not who I said I was Claire. I'm an undercover cop. I've been deep under with Forge for months."
The warmth left his shoulder, and by the sound of the floor, creaking Claire had backed a step. "Why didn't you--" She cut off with a gasp that hurt his ears and his heart equally.
"It doesn't matter how the truth gets out. My investigation. Your article. As long as Henry Forge's business is taken down and he ends up behind bars, we'll both have met our goals."
"But, it does matter." Her voice was hoarse and forced. "You lied to me. Even when I gave myself completely to you, you lied."
"I know," was all he could answer because he couldn't deny it. He'd had every opportunity to come clean. He'd even trusted her with the secret. But, even when she'd opened the part of her, he knew she'd kept closed for too long, he'd held back.
Guilt gutted his stomach and stole his voice. Not able to argue, he stepped into the kitchen to make coffee. They'd need it for the job ahead. He could at least give Claire that. Then he'd give her every detail he'd recorded for his case. Then he'd give her Henry Forge on a silver platter.
But the one thing he couldn't give her was his bruised heart. She deserved better than that. Even if she didn't understand it now, she would once she saw the real Connor Blake.
Claire sat at her work desk, staring at the words she and Connor had strung together over the last hour, trying to make some sense out of his decision to throw away six months of work for her article.
Though she'd questioned him several times during the ride into town, he'd met every inquest with a stone wall of silence.
In the newspaper office, he'd pulled up a chair from an empty cubicle and set it close to hers. His long legs had his knees pressed into Claire's leg, so he pushed the chair into the narrow hallway and kept his distance.
"We have most of Forges connections to local gangs down and his dealing with known dealers, but Jacob still won't print this without naming a source, and we can't do that without exposing you."
She glanced at him, careful to keep the distance he seemed to demand. Something changed last night, and she
couldn't shake the feeling it'd all been a game. Had it all been to gain her trust. To throw her off track? Her mind raced with questions she couldn't bring herself to ask.
Connor leaned forward in his chair, his elbows rested on his knees. "That's why you're going to name me. Detective Jason Connor Blackmon. I'm your source. I can back everything up in the article from my files. They are in a lockbox under the floor of the bedroom at the house. Once I'm gone, you can turn them over to Detective Kilpatrick at the Rebel Rapids PD. He'll take it all from there."
Claire's skin prickled. "You're leaving?"
Connor dropped his head between his hands. He lifted his gaze to meet hers. "I'll be taking Forge back to West Virginia for questioning after the story breaks and from there wherever the charges lead. I won't be leaving his side until I know the charges against him stick this time, and he's locked up and away from anyone he could hurt."
Claire's cheeks burned. "Anyone, meaning me?"
"You'll have Detective Kilpatrick watching over you in case there is fallout. You'll be safe here."
"That didn't answer my question." Claire dropped her hands from the keyboard and closed her laptop. "Look. If this article is going to get you in trouble, there are other ways to expose Henry Forge."
"This will get results the fastest."
Connor stood and paced. His large frame took up most of the hallway, reminding Claire what being wrapped in those thick arms felt like. Would she ever feel the warmth and safety of them around here again, she swallowed the sob in her throat and focused on the issue at hand.
"Why the hurry? You've been after him for half a year. Put your life on hold for all that time. Instead of taking the credit for bringing him down, you're going to lose your job. Maybe end up in jail yourself?"
"It's worth it," his voice hollowed out, and anger flashed behind his eyes and stern set jaw.
Claire winced back in her chair. Her reaction registered in his eyes, and he settled into the chair again and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. That wasn't called for."
"Damn right." Claire took a deep breath and settled a hand on his knee. To her surprise, he didn't flinch or move away. "Look, Connor. I don't know what is going on with you right now. Last night was so...I thought we had a connection. Did I do something wrong?"
"No." The answer came fast and clipped from his lips. "Last night never should have happened." He set his gaze hard on hers. "I wanted it to. Goddamn how I want you still, but being around me is going to get you killed. Once this goes public, we'll become targets of every crook Forge has done business with. Together we make an easy target but separate they'll be forced to choose, and a cop is worth more dead than a small-town reporter who got lucky with the story."
Claire's stomach bottomed out. "You're using yourself as bate." She shivered at the thought. A single cop against a mob of killers. He'd never make it to West Virginia. "Let me give this to Jacob without your name. I can tell him the source can't be named, but the facts can be checked easily enough. Your friend at the police department can back it all up."
"No." Connor's hand came down on hers. "There needs to be no question as to what the truth is and naming me as your source is the only way to make that happen. I'll give Kilpatrick a heads up before the paper prints. He'll back me up until Forge is safe in West Virginia, and from there, he has a string of counties waiting to file charges. This only works if your story has no faults, and you give enough to bring him up on charges."
"Then we give them your name, but you let someone else take him in."
"Not after what I've seen he's capable of. I can't take that chance knowing if he is released, you'd be his first target. I can't put you in that danger. This is the way it must be done."
Claire stood and moved closer until her legs touched his, and his head cocked up to track her gaze. "There isn't anything I can say or do to change your mind?" She sat on his lap, glaring into his eyes, daring him to break her heart.
He wrapped his thick arms around her and pulled her face into his chest. His next unsteady breath shook her cheek. "I wish there was. This is the only way."
Claire pushed off his chest and framed his face with her hands. "What happened last night. What's happened over the last couple of weeks. This wasn't just a fling for me. This meant something. Something real."
She saw the tear build in his eye, but as soon as she touched his face, it faded, pressed back behind a wall of cold in his stare. "It was real." he reached for her cheek and brushed the pad of his thumb across it. "But we both knew it wasn't long term."
He pressed his lips to her in a kiss so soft and warm it melted her bones. He helped her stand and gave her a long look that radiated pain from the set of his jaw to the raspy rise in his chest.
Then he walked away.
11
"You're sure he didn't tell you where he was going?"
Detective Kilpatrick sat on one side of Jacob's office while Jacob sat behind his desk with a copy of the morning edition open. Claire stood at the door, unable to sit since showing Jacob the article and his call to the police department.
"He said he had to make sure Henry made it to West Virginia before he'd return to Nashville." Claire bit on the nail of her pointer finger. "He couldn't be swayed from the idea of running the story even with his name attached."
Detective Kilpatrick made a low noise in his throat. "That sounds like Connor."
"Jason," Claire corrected. "His real name is Jason."
Detective Kilpatrick laughed. "That's right. He's been Connor for so long I almost forgot Jason was undercover. He knows how to play a role well."
"You could say that," Claire bit out, wishing she hadn't when Kilpatrick gave her an inquisitive sideways glance.
"The question is," Jacob spoke up, "what do we do about this article. If I run it and any of it is untrue, we'll be sued into the next millennium."
"It's all true," Kilpatrick corrected. "Jason knows more about Henry Forge than Henry Forge knows about himself."
Claire cocked her head and bunched her lips to one side. "He was undercover for several months."
"His connection goes way beyond this job. He asked for this assignment, and if his superiors had known his connection, they never would have let him have it. Jason was stationed outside Baghdad when a territory war broke out. He and his men were cornered in a small town and later captured and held hostage. Jason was the only one to walk away when our guys located them a month later.
Claire nodded, signaling she knew that much, though Connor hasn't mentioned it in the same terms.
"The civil war was over lands as much as it was power and weapons. The terrorist group holding Jason and his men was grown in the US. A group of Henry Forge supported by sending money under the cloak of donations and relief efforts to terrorist groups like the one that held Jason."
Jacob cleared his throat. "We're a small paper. This is too deep an issue for us to get involved in."
"That's what most say when they're faced with an international threat," Kilpatrick added. "Everyone likes to feel safe, but no one wants to stick their neck out to protect it."
"Except Jason." Claire rolled her tongue over the name. "Is there anything we can do to help him?"
"Run the article," Kilpatrick answered. "It's a start to getting the word out about Forge. Once the public cries for answers, the authorities will have to take action and can't hide behind excuses any longer."
"We can't take that risk," Jacob answered. He picked up the paper and tossed it in the trash. "I'm sorry, but it's not worth my job."
"Or having Forge's crew coming after you," Kilpatrick corrected. "It takes a strong person to stand up to men like Henry Forge, and there aren't enough of them in the world to put a dent in the rise in crime."
Claire studied both men. From what Kilpatrick said to the way Jacob reacted to being asked to help, Jason's motives became clear. He'd done his part to protect her. Now she had to do her part to protect him.
"It doesn't have to ru
n in a paper," she announced. "It just has to go public."
"That's the idea," Kilpatrick said.
"What's more public than the internet. We get the story in front of some execs at one of the larger news stations, and we'll have the nation watching the downfall of Henry Forge."
"No one will run your story without proof it's true," Jacob argued.
"Then I'll prove it's true. I was in his house. I still have the skirt and blouse from that day. Is there any chance Danny's blood-splattered far enough to reach me?"
"There is always a chance. I have a contact in Nashville. We can send the garments there for testing while you contact the stations and find one willing to report the story."
"Would that be faster than contacting the police," Jacob asked.
"If the right people hear the story, you'd be amazed how fast red tape disappears when homegrown terrorism gets thrown around on television."
Claire had already tuned them both out. She had her phone in her lap with the article downloaded and was searching emails for top news reporters. She emailed everyone she found, hoping just one would read an article from a no-name reporter and take an interest.
With that kind of exposure, Henry wouldn't be able to hide. They'd have him, and she wouldn't have to worry about shadows in the dark.
If only she could find Connor, or Jason, or whatever the hell he wanted to be called and tell him the good news.
Connor leaned back on the soundstage wall and kicked one foot up to rest on the back of a chair. Damn had only a week away from her made Claire that much more gorgeous, or was it the stage lights and makeup?
Nah. Connor preferred her natural hair loose, face fresh, body naked under his. For days, as he drove county to county calling in his contacts to testify against Forge, he hadn't been able to get that image of her out of his mind. Spent and coated in a thin sheen of sweat under him in his bed.
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