Deadlock

by Cherrie Lynn

  “You know, I might’ve heard some footsteps—”

  Out on the street, a car peeled rubber, the guard cursing as Jace tried to maintain a straight face. That would be Sully. Lindsey caught a glimpse of her platinum hair as she sped by. “There she goes, I bet,” she said.

  “This woman had black hair. The fuck is going on here tonight?”

  “Sorry, sir, we didn’t mean to give you a bad night. I know we shouldn’t be here, it was just off the beaten path a bit and we got a little carried away. You know how it is, right?” Jace’s conspiratorial manner wasn’t having the desired effect. The guard’s darkening expression said that no, he didn’t know how it was.

  “Take it somewhere else, son. There are a dozen hotels around here.”

  “Yes, sir. I will, sir.” Jace was obviously trying not to laugh. Lindsey began to bite down on a smile herself, now that her blood was cooling.

  “I ought to drag your asses inside and call the police,” the guard bristled when he saw he wasn’t getting the worry he obviously thought he deserved. “You got any ID on you?”

  Jace opened his mouth to reply, and something in Lindsey snapped. She didn’t know what, probably wouldn’t ever know. Maybe it was empowerment of what she had just accomplished, or the kiss, but words burst from her in a tone she couldn’t recall ever hearing from her own lips.

  “You aren’t dragging us anywhere,” she said, hardly noticing when Jace looked down at her with his eyebrows in his hairline, “and I’m certain your superiors would like to get a whiff of that Wild Turkey you’ve been swigging on the job. I would let us go if I were you.” The pause before she added on, “Sir,” was filled with cold challenge while she stared at him. The guard’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he finally found his words again.

  “Get the hell out of here,” he snapped, then stalked away.

  As soon as he was gone, her bravado deflated, and she couldn’t scramble into the passenger seat fast enough. “Oh my God,” she panted over and over. Jace slammed his own door and turned incredulous dark eyes on her.

  “Where did that come from?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and the feel of his mouth on hers came flooding back as she looked at him. She raised her palms to her cheeks, feeling the fever in them. “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to another person like that before in my life. Well, except maybe you.”

  He laughed. “Glad I’m not alone in the club anymore, then. Hey. Good for you.”

  “What about what you did just now? Where did that come from?”

  He tore his gaze away and cranked the car. “I had to think fast. I had to improvise.”

  That was all it had been. But still—he had awakened her. And shaken her to her throbbing, needy core.

  “So did I,” she said as he pulled away from the curb.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “She did it,” Sully said, and Jace breathed a sigh of profound relief. It had taken a huge leap of faith to let Lindsey take this on, but he’d wanted to see her work her magic, and she’d come through. The security feed was on Sully’s screen. “Now we’ll see who comes and goes through this bitch. And maybe you can exploit the connection and get into their servers.”

  He’d already planned on doing that. “On it,” he said. “Thanks, Sull.”

  Jace left her apartment and crossed over to his own, where Lindsey waited nervously at his kitchen table, chewing her nails. “It worked,” he told her, delighting in the huge, relieved smile that spread across her face.

  “Thank God. After that hiccup during the install, I was worried.”

  “I’m sure it was nothing. Sully will watch the feeds and go through old footage. She’ll make notes of everyone who comes in and show them to us. I’ll snoop around their servers and see if I can find out how N-Tech fits into this.”

  She nodded. “Any theories on that yet?”

  “Not especially. There must be at least some connection, since you saw Griffin there.”

  “Have you tracked his phone lately?”

  “No,” he said. “It didn’t move for so long, I haven’t bothered.”

  “Maybe you should try again.”

  “I can do that. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I know it’s late.”

  “I could do with a gigantic glass of wine right now. One of those entire bottles with a top shaped like a glass? I need that.”

  He laughed. “Better not. The last thing you need is a hangover. Who knows when we’ll have a big day ahead, depending on what we find.”

  “True. Darn.”

  “But one glass won’t hurt, Lindsey.”

  “Even truer.”

  “I’m not much of a wine drinker. So I’ll go out and get that, and you stay here and relax. What do you like?”

  “Shiraz,” she said. “Cheap is fine.”

  “Great. We’ll toast your success.” He expected her to beam at him, or blush, as she often did when he complimented her. Instead, she gave him a wan smile and looked down at her hands in her lap. He frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. I’m fine.”

  She must be tired. He assured himself of it as he went out in the cold, snowy December night. He didn’t mind the cold so much. It was the assault of Christmas lights and music that made him grit his teeth and wish Christmas would fucking get here and gone already.

  He hated this holiday, something he didn’t admit very often, even to himself. He didn’t have many memories of his home life before getting kicked into the foster care system, but he did remember holidays being an excuse for his dad to get shitfaced. Afterward, when school resumed after New Year’s, all the kids showed up in their new clothes with glowing tales of all the toys they’d gotten from Santa, and Jace had often wondered what he’d done that was so bad, because Santa never came to his house. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that Santa was a crock of shit. He’d even told a few of the kids that, making fun of them for believing in fairy tales, starting fights, adopting his dad’s bullying ways.

  A few of the foster homes had provided nice Christmases. Ill-fitting clothes he never would have chosen for himself, toys that he was too old for. It was one fateful Christmas morning, however, that he unwrapped his very first computer. Nothing fancy—cheap, not very powerful, but it had provided him a lifeline. And now that he was an adult, he knew he could make the holiday season what he wanted, make it his own…but he preferred to ignore it altogether. Seemed safer that way.

  But the lights and carols and decorations persisted nevertheless.

  So did Lindsey’s melancholy mood when he returned with her bottle of Shiraz—one that was a little more expensive than she had suggested was acceptable. She deserved it.

  Since he wasn’t a wine drinker, he had no glasses, so they had to make do with tumblers. Unfortunate, because he would love to see her hand wrapped delicately around a fragile wineglass…and maybe even imagine that hand wrapped somewhere else.

  That kiss in the backseat had been fucking with his head ever since it happened. For a moment, he’d forgotten he was pretending. Fuck it—he hadn’t been pretending. The second his mouth had touched hers, it had been real. It had been like drinking fire. And when the guard had rapped on their window, it had taken everything within him to pull away from her.

  What did that mean?

  It didn’t matter, because it couldn’t mean anything. Lust, chemistry, sure… He wanted to sleep with her, but he’d be out of his mind not to want that. Beyond sex, though, there could be nothing for them. Too much was at stake, and involvements made him vulnerable.

  “What should we drink to?” he asked her, setting down the bottle and picking up his glass.

  “Success,” she suggested.

  “A job well done.” He clinked his glass with hers.

  The wine was deeply, seductively purple, and he got a very particular thr
ill watching it ease toward Lindsey’s pink lips as she took her first sip. He’d been at those lips himself only a few hours ago, and as she drank, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Once she lowered her glass, she made a throaty sound of pleasure that he figured gave him a good indication of how she sounded when she came.

  He’d like to hear that sound in his ear.

  “God, that’s good.”

  He’d like to hear her say that in his ear, too.

  “Glad you like it.”

  “You chose well.” Then, to his surprise, she quaffed the entire glass.

  “I see you did need that.”

  “Yeah. I needed some liquid courage.”

  “Courage?”

  “To say what I want to say next.”

  Oh shit. He wasn’t sure he was going to like this, but he gave a chuckle to try to hide that fact. “Do I need to sit down?”

  Lindsey’s green eyes, always a little shy but assessing, met him with a directness he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen there before. Until tonight.

  “I need you to stop using me.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Somehow, she’d suspected he was going to play dumb. As he blinked at her, she realized she’d been absolutely right.

  “Using you… Huh?”

  Lindsey blew out a breath, grabbed the wine bottle, and poured herself another glass, damn his earlier warnings. She needed to get this out. A pleasant warmth was already spreading in her chest, spurring her on. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Your caveman routine the first time I showed up at your door. Putting on a show in front of my parents. Kissing me in front of that security guard. Why are you doing those things?”

  “It’s just a way to get us out of sticky situations, Linz. It always works, doesn’t it?”

  “But what do you think it does to me?”

  He frowned at her. Did he honestly not know? Or was he still playing dumb? Because she knew he wasn’t. Was she such a closed book, or was he just that dense when it came to matters of the heart?

  “I didn’t think it did anything to you,” he said slowly.

  “I’m not a doll you can throw around and do whatever you want with. I have feelings.”

  “Yeah? Everyone does.”

  She chewed her bottom lip before blurting, “Sometimes I think you don’t.”

  “And you’d be wrong. I’m not a fucking cyborg.”

  “I know you don’t have any feelings for me. You made that painfully clear the first time you kissed me, telling me how awful it was. But—but you can’t keep—”

  “Oh, Jesus Christ,” he groaned, the first real reaction she’d seen from him since she began speaking. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving that one tuft sticking up.

  “Lindsey, I hope you don’t consider anything I said that day as truth. I was pissed. I was so pissed I was seeing red. That’s not an excuse, but if you think I don’t look for reasons to kiss you every day, then that’s something else you’re wrong about. A couple of times I’ve gotten lucky, and that reason comes along. Most days, I think of all the reasons I shouldn’t kiss you…and if we keep talking about this, I’m going to forget them.”

  “You want to kiss me?” she asked, the sense of wonder and astonishment shutting down all of her own inner doubts and rationalizations.

  He stared at her lips, eyes dark, heated, and then drained his glass as she had a few moments ago. Watching his strong throat muscles work as he swallowed sent the warmth in her chest skittering all over her body. God, what he would feel like against her…

  Jace slammed the glass down as if he’d just finished a whiskey shot. “Yes, but you shouldn’t let me,” he said, not looking at her. “Because if you do, I won’t want to stop.”

  Oh God. Her pulse pounded in her ears, inner wrists, and between her thighs. His hand still gripped his glass as if he wasn’t quite sure where his fingers might go if he released it. How would those hands stroke her body? Rough and insistent, gentle and unhurried?

  She wanted it all. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”

  “When so much is wrong—are you sure about that?” He came around the kitchen island, still respecting the distance between them, but she had the distinct impression of a lean black panther stalking its prey, watching, waiting for the chance to pounce.

  “It might not ever be right. I’ll take any good I can get.”

  His warmth invaded her personal space as she looked up at him, her eyes barely on a level with his chin. She was prepared to stand on tiptoes and strain her neck to reach him, but in one move, his arms encircled her and he lifted her against him as easily as if she were weightless. Once she was on his level, he slanted his mouth over hers while she brought her legs around his waist.

  All his kisses before had been demanding. They took. This one gave. It gave so much. Warmth and comfort. Passion and intensity. This showed just how fake the others had been, despite his protests.

  Even though dreaming of him beside her, over her, in her, kept her up nights—it was almost too much. Almost. They made the journey to his bedroom with her wrapped around him.

  He was hard between her legs—even through his denim and hers. Her nipples stiffened against his chest, the proof of his need igniting her own. Her hands tore his T-shirt upward as his mouth worked feverishly against hers, tongue sweeping in and out in a naughty rhythm. At last she crashed against his mattress, and he helped her pull his shirt the rest of the way off, baring that gorgeous chest.

  But then it was her turn, and her breath caught as his fingers went to work on the buttons of her shirt. She was torn between the desire to rip them off and the need to hide. As he pushed her shirt off her shoulders, then drew her bra straps down, she trembled violently.

  “Jace,” she whispered, barely able to stand the burn of his gaze on her flesh. Gently, he tugged down one of her bra cups, baring her nipple. She closed her eyes as he lowered his head and took it in his mouth. “Oh God.”

  “How the fuck could you think I don’t want you,” he murmured against her skin. “I want you so much it hurts, Lindsey.” His tongue painted a wet trail around the aching little peak, and she groaned, writhing under him. He coaxed her upward so that he could divest her of her bra completely, leaving her bare from the waist up.

  “It’s been a long time for me,” she stammered as he tossed it across the bed, because it seemed important somehow. She didn’t necessarily want his gentleness, not yet. But her oversensitive body might combust under him. She might not live through it. And she had another reason for telling him, too.

  “That’s okay,” he said, bracing himself on his arms above her again. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, however you need it.”

  “But…I have this sort of latex allergy. I can’t use regular condoms. And I don’t have any of the kind I can use. I never thought…”

  “Polyurethane?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t have any, but I’ll make the fastest trip to the drugstore you’ve ever seen.”

  But she didn’t want him to, so she slid her arms around his neck and tightened her legs around him, drawing him down. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

  “Then what do you want, Lindsey?”

  “I just want you. If that’s okay. I promise I’m healthy.”

  “Are you on birth control?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m clean. The last thing I would ever do is hurt you.”

  He was here, and he was hers. She could hardly believe it, but damn him, he hadn’t made any of this easy on her. She had to return the favor somehow, and the heat and solidity of him did things to her, went to her head, made her want to reconnect with the sexuality she’d let lie dormant for too long. “Hmm,” she said, pulling him in for a kiss, letting it linger just long enough that she felt a shudder work through him. “So you say.”


  “Promise,” he murmured against her lips.

  She let him kiss her again, at least for a time, but then pulled away. “I don’t know,” she teased, resisting his efforts to reclaim her with a dark little smile. “On second thought, you might have to talk me into this.”

  “Oh yeah? What will it take?”

  She gave a meaningful glance down the length of his body. “Let’s see what I’ll be getting out of the deal.”

  Never taking his eyes from hers, he rose up on his knees, giving her a fabulous opportunity to peruse his chiseled physique. Lindsey struggled not to bite her lip as she looked her fill, but then those big, deft hands dropped to his jeans, and she gave in to the urge. The anticipation was too much. He practically tore at his fly while her heart pounded so hard she thought he might see her breasts quiver with each beat. God, is this happening?

  Every movement full of grace, he stripped his jeans down his powerful legs and then off, tossing them aside. His thighs made her mouth water. She couldn’t wait to sink her nails into that firm muscle. Speaking of firm…

  Black boxer briefs stretched tight over his erection, the tip of which reached his waistband. Thick. Hard. Long. It was really no wonder he had no shame. When he hooked a thumb into them and pushed them down, revealing with staggering confidence what was underneath, the breath left her body in a rush. He was sculpture brought to searing, uncompromising life, and her hands ached to get on him. Her tongue flicked across her lips, a gesture that drew his eyes to her mouth.

  His hands moved to her jeans, and all thought failed her, the world a blaze of sensation. Unbuttoning, unzipping, the slide of denim down her thighs, her calves, off her feet. Only her panties barred her from his sight. Her little game seemed futile now. If he didn’t take her soon, she would die.

  Jace took her hands and pinned them back on the mattress. With him hovering over her like this, his cock brushed her clit through the cotton of her underwear, her hips lifting off the bed to rock against him until he groaned. She knew he could feel how wet he’d made her.