“We should go. Quickly.” Ben guided her to the silver sedan they’d all arrived in. A few people snapped more pictures as they left, but most of the amateur paparazzi were focused on the limo pulling away.
“Hopefully the club gets a boost. Although we won’t ever go there again,” Katie said ruefully. “Once she gets recognized somewhere, the fans mob it in hopes of spotting her.”
He hesitated before starting the car. “I’m glad you had fun. I’m sorry I crossed a line.”
“Apology accepted.” It’s all about perspective.
Katie watched his stern profile as Ben navigated through traffic. I thought he was trying to control me. He thought he was trying to protect me. His intensity still unnerved her, letting him dive deep under her skin. But is it necessarily bad? The same intensity made her feel safe and cherished, similar to the invulnerability she felt when performing. Like I could do anything with him watching my back.
They arrived at the hotel. Ben started to open the car door, and Katie touched his arm.
He went still. “Is everything okay?”
She nodded, darting her tongue out to moisten her dry lips. “I want to ask you something. Do you regret what happened between us last night?”
“Absolutely not. This wasn’t the best time to get together, but fighting it exhausted us both.” He paused, biting his lip. “If we hadn’t made love, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.”
“Me, too,” she said softly. “I’m used to being in charge. Being helpless has been torture for me, and I took it out on you. I needed to be in control again. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be,” he whispered.
“You helped me with regaining control. And I want you to help me with something else.” She watched his face carefully as she leaned closer to him. “I want you to take me upstairs, and fuck me until I forget about everything else but the two of us.”
His jaw tightened, and his teeth bit into his lower lip again, hard enough that she expected to see blood. His hands clenched the wheel, and from the way he shifted in his seat, his pants weren’t fitting too comfortably. She felt incredibly sexy and powerful, knowing her words had such a strong effect on him.
She tilted her head, and kissed him, letting her tongue flicker to caress his mouth in a lightning-quick promise. He shifted position to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back before he could. His heavy breaths rolled over her cheek as he panted.
Her unsteady breathing rasped in her throat, and her slick core was ready to take him inside. Memories of their previous night together made her want to take him right here in the parking lot. She eagerly opened her car door to step outside. Her thighs brushed together during the short walk to the front entrance, and she bit back a moan of anticipation.
He caught up to her at the elevator, slipping his hand under the leather to caress her through her silk blouse. The ride to the top floor was delicious torture as they traded kisses. She could almost forget the cameras. Except I’m not into free shows.
As she unlocked her suite, his looming masculine presence excited her, and made her wish they were already inside and out of reach of public decency laws. His hands spanned her hips, pulling her back against his erection.
His lips bit softly at her ear. “Let me check first.”
She acquiesced even though she burned with anticipation. He left her alone beside the door, while he searched the suite. To distract herself, she shoved the vase of stones against the door. There. Alarm set. Her vibrating body cried out for completion. She wanted to slip her hand inside her jeans, and give herself the release she craved. Just enough to take the edge off. Then she could enjoy the evening instead of being half-wild with lust. Would he be annoyed or turned on if he saw me rubbing one out? His footsteps echoed in the bedroom.
Maybe he’d join me. The thought brought a fresh clench of dampness between her legs. She imagined him returning, and sliding his hand down her jeans to finger-fuck her into ecstasy. Her hand drifted toward her waist, but a vague attempt at self-preservation held her back. Let him finish, and make sure we’re alone. It felt intoxicating to be with a man who wasn’t intimidated by her sexual confidence, and who matched her passion.
He returned quickly, and the smoldering intensity in his eyes triggered a new knee-weakening spasm. His hands closed over hers. “Do you trust me? Will you let me make this what you need?”
She hesitated, and he held perfectly still, capturing her gaze.
“You’re in control. You don’t like it, say the word, and I stop.” He’d backed her against the door, surrounding her with his masculine presence. His muscles were rock-hard with the tension of holding himself in place.
Her higher brain functions were walled off behind a barrier of lust, making it hard to think. She surrendered the effort, and chose with her feelings instead of her thoughts. “I trust you.”
“Good.” As he smiled, faint crinkles appeared at the corner of his eyes.
Then he opened her jeans, and slid his hand inside. His shoulders tensed, and his free hand curled into a fist.
“Damn. I’ve never been with a woman who was ready so fast.”
His admiring tone wasn’t one she expected. Some men seemed disappointed, as if her eagerness denied them their due. Others seemed relieved, ready to plow ahead. Her body had always responded quickly to her passions, and she refused to apologize for it. She liked sex, and how it made her feel, and if it bothered anyone, that was on them, not her.
“You must be right on the edge,” he murmured.
His finger dipped inside, and she rocked her hips against it, desperate for the building release. His hand pulled back, and she could have howled in frustration until his next words.
“Brace yourself.”
She locked her arms against the door frame. He knelt in front of her, easing her jeans and panties down. Then his mouth fastened on the damp curls between her legs, and she lost all semblance of coherent thought.
She might have shouted out loud, or maybe her disjointed words of eager agreement stayed strictly mental. Her arms ached from holding position, and her mouth was dry from panting as the first climax ripped through her.
He didn’t raise a mission accomplished flag, but continued his welcome assault on her private flesh. His efforts drew out the delicious tension, keeping her vibrating in the throes of ecstasy.
It wasn’t nearly enough. She needed to feel him inside.
When he stood, she was lust-drunk enough to miss the transition as he carried her into the bedroom. She tore at his clothes, wanting to touch his naked skin.
He laid her down on the bed, and she grabbed the box of condoms in her side table. They broke their clinch, and she was pleased to see his shakes mirrored her own. His erection strained at his boxers, his jeans and shirt having been discarded at some point earlier. She still wore her blouse and bra, but was naked from the waist down.
She held out the foil packet, and beckoned. “Come on.”
He took it from her. “Shirt off first.”
She unbuttoned the blouse, holding it closed until the last fastening came free. He licked his lips, watching her. She savored his hungry gaze, drawing out the tension before shrugging the loose shirt free, and unsnapping her bra.
Gloriously naked except for sheathing latex, he crawled over her, pinning her beneath him. She clung to his shoulders and neck as they traded fierce kisses, mouths plundering one another.
When he first slid inside her, tears of pleasure welled in her eyes. He played her body, stroking in and out like a bow coaxing notes from a violin. She lost herself to the tune between them, spiraling along the melody as her whole body shook and shuddered in wave after wave of orgasm.
He bucked and bellowed with his own climax, then relaxed over her. His fingers stroked her hair. “Everything
you hoped for?”
“Exactly as ordered.” She pressed her forehead against his.
His hand stilled. “I’ve prided myself on keeping an objective distance, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He sounded uncertain, and while a part of her gloried in her feminine power, she didn’t want to become a regret. “Do you want to stop?”
“I’m not answering that question when I’m naked and still inside you.” His kiss held a note of sadness. “The thought of anything happening to you drives me crazy. I’m afraid of missing something.”
“Stop worrying.” She clenched her pelvic muscles, and smiled at his gasp. “We should enjoy what we have, and not worry about tomorrow.”
“What if I want to think about tomorrow? What if I don’t only want today?”
Don’t spoil what we have. This was getting too serious. If she let herself believe it, she’d be closer to experiencing the heartbreak from this afternoon’s song. How could they make a future work? Even if he caught the Director, their lives were too different. She would be on tour for the next two years. She doubted he would quit Special Investigations. He cared too much about his job. So he would be traveling, too. Even the best case scenario buried their magical connection under the stresses of long distance compromises and absences.
Instead of answering his questions, she kissed him, pulling him down on top of her, so that they could both forget what the future held.
Chapter 29
Ben woke up to an empty bed. At first, he drowsily inhaled the sweetness of Katie’s scent on the sheets, but as his awareness came back, worry shattered enjoyment.
He sat up. “Katie?”
She didn’t answer. He leapt out of bed, ignoring the scattered clothes on the floor. One part of his mind tried to calm him down, noting the absence of signs of struggle. The other parts of him were already panicking. The Director had snatched girls undetected out of their own homes, despite the attentive care of those around them. If she’s hurt . . . He would never forgive himself for failing to save another person he loved.
He burst through the closed bedroom door into the main room, ready to call Ray, 9-1-1, and whoever else he could think of.
Katie stood in front of the window, eyes closed, and wearing wireless headphones while she moved slowly from one yoga pose to the next.
Relief stole his energy, and he sagged against the doorframe. She’s safe. She’s okay. He repeated the words to himself, hoping to convince his adrenaline gland and heart to slow things down again.
Her eyes remained closed as she crouched, and placed her palms flat on the yoga mat. She leaned forward, and slowly lifted her feet off the floor, supporting her weight with her arms, knees braced behind her elbows. The balance impressed him, as did the lithe, relaxed way she flowed between positions. He could imagine watching her do this every morning while he made them breakfast.
He’d told her he didn’t only want today. He wanted tomorrow, and the day after, and the one after that. All of the days for as far as he could see. I can’t imagine my life without her anymore. This was more than lust or infatuation. I love her.
He half-expected the world to come to a screeching halt when he admitted it to himself. Katie continued with her routine, unaware of both his presence and his newfound insight. She wore skintight black leggings and a sports bra. The clinging spandex outlined every curve of her luscious body as she balanced on one foot with the other leg held out parallel to the ground. Her beauty and grace awakened interest in another kind of workout.
Her eyes opened, and the smoothness of her motion stuttered to a halt. She pulled off the headphones. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s perfect.” He smiled, moving closer.
Her lips quirked as she noted his naked body and evident interest. “Miss me?”
“Yes,” he replied, perfectly serious as he bent his head to claim a morning kiss. She returned his embrace with enthusiasm, pressing her body against his.
A knock at the door shattered the mood. “Miss Ballard, it’s Special Agent Orlund.”
“Hold the thought,” she whispered, planting a gentle kiss before stepping out of his embrace.
“Miss Ballard?” Another knock, louder this time.
“A moment,” she called before glancing at Ben. “I’ll give you a minute to get dressed.”
Pants were a good idea. Ben shoved his legs into his jeans while Katie removed the metal vase boobytrap. She checked the peephole, and he gave her a mental thumb’s up for her caution.
“Is there a problem, Special Agent Orlund?” Katie asked as she opened the door.
She hadn’t invited him inside the suite, but Orlund pushed past her.
He started his diatribe immediately. “There are things we need to— What are you doing here?”
Ben bared his teeth, enjoying the other man’s irritation.
Katie closed and relocked the door. “Ben is my guest. Now did you want to discuss something?”
Every time Ben thought she couldn’t get any more impressive, she demonstrated a new level of competence. No blushing or stammering out explanations and denials. There was no hint of compromise or shame as she took a seat on the couch, waiting for Orlund to tell her why he’d knocked on her door.
“I came to . . . apologize. I haven’t handled your case very well, and I’ve let my temper get the better of me.”
Ben stared at him in shock. He’d never expected to hear those words from the FBI agent.
“Thank you.” Katie inclined her head regally.
“We must work together to stop the Director.” Orlund’s eyes darted away. “If we keep squabbling amongst ourselves, he’ll win.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. The little cues of Orlund’s body didn’t match with his words.
“I agree.” Katie rested her elbows on her knees. “What do you suggest?”
The FBI agent shoved his hands into his pockets. “I need your help. There are dozens of reporters waiting downstairs.”
“Does it pose a problem for your investigation?” Katie said coolly.
“I never agreed with Special Investigations’ plan to provoke the Director. The man is relentless, and making him unpredictable adds to your risk.”
This is bullshit. “Letting him control—”
Katie held up her hand. Reluctantly, Ben stopped despite the urge to tell off the FBI agent. She stood, meeting Orlund eye to eye.
“We can discuss strategies later.” Her voice left no room for dispute. “Why are you concerned about the reporters?”
“They’re an unpredictable element.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Katie tilted her head. “The paparazzi know the limits of the law. They’re on public property, and I’m sure they’re not obstructing traffic. They’re here for a story, and they won’t leave without one.”
Irritability cracked through Orlund’s cooperative mask. “You could do a press conference.”
“And what should I tell them? Do you have progress to announce in the case?” Katie’s cool persistence was an incredible turn on.
Ben had never seen a person refuse to engage so effectively.
“Tell them something about your stepsister,” Orlund suggested.
“My sister doesn’t have anything new to share with them.” Katie emphasized the second word.
Ben wanted to tell Orlund to take a hike, but he held his tongue, trusting Katie to deal with the situation. If she wanted a rescue, she would let him know.
“This is for your safety.” Orlund’s words held a sharp bite.
“In the interest of continued cooperation, I will consider your request,” Katie said flatly. “Thank you for your visit, Special Agent Orlund.”
Though Ben wanted to hurry the FBI agent out the door with his fists, he
held back. As Katie escorted him out, he caught an odd expression on the FBI agent’s face. His eyes glinted behind his glasses. Like this is what he was hoping for.
“That was unpleasant.” Katie shivered. “I don’t trust him.”
“Me either.” Ben’s neck and shoulders tensed as he realized what would need to happen next.
Finding out what Orlund was up to would mean following him. Leaving her alone would drive him crazy. Less than a minute of separation this morning had already tested his nerve.
“Go,” Katie said quietly.
Ben’s shoulders dropped in surprise. “What?”
“You don’t think I recognize the look on your face after the last few days? You want to follow him. Go do it.” Her smile faded, and she shrugged. “I could use some alone time anyway.”
If I want those breakfasts with her, I have to trust her. It was awkward collecting his clothes while she waited patiently. He hesitated over the leather jacket.
“It was your brother’s.” Katie picked it up, holding it out. “I appreciate the loan, but you should keep it.”
He took the jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. “No. It’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better to know it’s with you even when I’m not.”
A low laugh escaped her lips. “You must see a lot of strange things in your line of work, but an old motorcycle jacket isn’t going to protect me. That’s your job.”
“It might not be bulletproof or have armor plating, but the last time someone gave this jacket back to me, I lost them.” Ben waited until she raised her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll see you once you’re done.”
Walking out the door was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He listened for the faint clink of stone against metal as she put the vase-alarm into its place. Then he called Ray.
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