Deep Into Trouble--An Unbroken Heroes Novel Page 18

“You shaved…” He muttered.

  He moved closer, easing back against her as he smoothed his hands along the sides of her face and held her so that their gazes were locked.

  “For me…”

  He caught her hair, gripping it and sending a little tingle through her at the taste of his strength. His chest was hard and covered in hair that teased her nipples and the delicate skin of her breasts. Her clit was throbbing; her senses had seemed to turn on the moment she met him.

  “Yes.” It was one part agreement and another part challenge.

  He chuckled, leaning down until his breath was teasing the wet surface of her lips. “I won’t let it go to waste baby. I promise you that.”

  Her clit started throbbing with anticipation.

  Ginger rose onto her toes to end the conversation. She didn’t want to talk, she wanted to do. Impulses were firing off inside of her, and she longed for nothing more than to give over to them. Sure, there would be a reckoning. There always was. Honestly, what she feared more was not getting the chance to experience what she could in his embrace. Now that would be a true regret.

  Saxon didn’t disappoint her. He kissed her hard and completely, leaving her senseless as she twisted against him, eager to make sure she was in contact with him as much as possible. Remaining still was impossible. She wanted more, needed it. The craving was a living force inside her, melting away everything she’d been taught about behavior and its rights and wrongs. At that moment, there was only him and the way he felt against her.

  The way he could make her feel if they got even closer …

  His cock was hard against her belly. She reached for it, humming softly at the sound he made in the back of his throat. Satisfaction surged through her as she stroked him from base to tip, loving the way she affected him.

  “Now, to keep my promise,” he warned her before he scooped her off her feet.

  For a moment he cradled her, making her feel as light as a feather before settling her on the bed. She only had a moment to feel uncertain before he was covering her and reclaiming her mouth in a kiss that shattered every little thought that had started to push through the thick cloud of sensation settled inside her skull.

  “And I can’t wait to toy with you…”

  There was a promise in his voice. She caught a glitter in his eye.

  “I’m really starting to enjoy the way you play.” He stroked her, moving his hand down her body, across her belly and right into the curls guarding her folds.

  “Ah … play?” It was a stupid question, but her brain wasn’t working, and she didn’t want it to.

  He teased her bare mound, making her twist and whither as she gasped, stunned by just how intense it felt.

  “You throw down, baby”—he sent one thick finger into the folds of her sex, leaning over her to keep her on her back and at his mercy—“with style.”

  She felt his breath before he touched her. Her slit was so very aware of every little touch. He teased the newly shaved skin, stroking it with his fingertips before he licked each side.

  “Oh Christ…” she exclaimed.

  She heard him chuckle, a very male sound that was more of a promise than anything else. She was biting her lower lip, holding her breath as he made contact with her clit. It was mind-blowing, making sweat pop out on her skin. She felt her nipples contracting as he rubbed the little bundle of nerves, drawing the fluid that was seeping from her body up and over it.

  “It feels like you like it, too…”

  “Would you stop talking?” she demanded. “I thought guys hated chicks who babble.”

  Saxon chuckled, choking on his amusement. “Glad to know I’m not like your other dates, Gin.”

  There was the ring of smug satisfaction in his tone. He liked being unique to her. He came back up her body, trapping one of her knees behind his so that her legs were spread and her clit his to finger.

  “I want to make sure I blow every one of those memories out of your head…” He was rubbing her clit harder, grasping her hair to keep her head tilted toward his. He was watching her face. She felt his gaze on her as he drove her insane with the motion of his fingers. She wanted to say something to him in reply, but she just couldn’t think. There was no way to disconnect from the motion of his fingers. Pleasure was spiking through her as every muscle she had drew tight and then tighter until she was lifting up, trying to rub against his hand. She needed just a little more pressure, just a little … more. She was straining toward him, her eyes closing as everything centered around his fingers. Her body was one single pulsing need, and he was the one driving her toward what she craved. It all burst like a small explosion. Pleasure snapped through her, wrenching her insides and wringing them before dropping her back onto the surface of the bed in a panting heap.

  Saxon held her steady, his fingers still as he watched her.

  “It wasn’t one-sided. I enjoyed the hell out of doing that to you.”

  Saxon pressed a kiss against her mouth, following her when she tried to shy away from him. It became a hard kiss of determination, one that thrust her back into the swirling cloud of impulses.

  “I wanted to watch you, learn what you like, make sure I don’t come up short against your memories.”

  “You have control issues,” she said, amazed her tongue worked.

  Saxon snorted. “I know.” He shifted, leaning over to nuzzle against her breasts for a long moment. He kissed the inside of her cleavage and licked around one nipple before claiming it between his lips. She arched up, offering it to him as she slipped her hands across his shoulders. That quickly, she was being carried along once more by the current of impulse he seemed to trigger in her. It was a combination of his smell and his touch. Somehow, it just seemed to combine into something that intoxicated her to the point of complete brain function collapse. Leaving her at the mercy of her cravings.

  “I want to control you,” he muttered. “I want you so besotted, you don’t have room to compare me to anyone else.”

  “I could say the same thing.” She curled up and pushed him back, grasping the hard length of his erection before he’d finished falling onto the bed. He grunted, cupping her shoulders as though he meant to push her away.

  “You and your control, well, I’m going to be the one calling the shots right now,” she informed him before she opened her mouth and closed her lips around the head of his cock. His grip on her shoulder tightened, pulling her closer as she teased the slit on the top of his cock with her tongue.

  “Oh shit…” he growled, slipping his hand into her hair, encouraging her as his breathing became rough.

  It was the oddest form of praise, or maybe honesty was a better word. She drew her mouth off his length and opened her mouth wider to take him deeper. He shuddered, his hips thrusting up toward her as she used her hands on the portion of his cock that didn’t make it into her mouth. Every rough sound that made it through his teeth encouraged her, stroking her confidence, fueling her determination.

  But Saxon wasn’t going to let her push him over the edge. He pulled her head back, making her leave his member behind.

  “Chicken,” she accused softly in more of a purr than she’d ever heard herself use.

  He had her on her back, her body spread. If ever he’d been in command of their circumstances, now was a prime example, but she didn’t care. The sounds he’d made while she’d been sucking him were fresh in her mind, reminding her that he had cracks in his shell. Ones she had every intention of making wider.

  “No baby,” he informed her in a husky rasp. “I’m just making sure I finish satisfying you before I lose my load.”

  He pressed a kiss against her mouth, smothering the rest of her argument. It wasn’t a hard kiss, just one that blew her mind. It filled her with his taste again and let her feel his strength surrounding her. If she were able to think, she’d have wondered why her pride wasn’t protesting about it but her brain was answering impulses only. There didn’t seem to be room for anything else.
/>
  He was stroking her again, long, firm motions of his hands across her body, over her breasts, and over her belly. He toyed with her clit, the contact rekindling the need that had her panting beneath his touch.

  She did want more.

  She wanted him closer, craved his weight on her, needed to feel more than just her clit being touched. He thrust his fingers into her, and she heard her own cry bounce off the ceiling. She’d never realized the capacity of her own body to feel pleasure. It was deeper and far more intense than she’d ever imagined. Or maybe it was more correct to say, she’d only had sex before. This was something entirely different.

  It was a craving …

  She was pulling on him, trying to bring him to her. He caught a handful of her hair, keeping her exactly where he wanted her while he leaned over and kissed her again. There was a promise in the kiss, one that she felt on a subconscious level. It was like she could feel him shedding the last few layers of restraint before he moved over her, settled between her thighs, and drew in a deep breath.

  “Now…” she was breathless and yet so demanding; she was almost snarling.

  “Wait for it.” He gave her back all of the controlling demand she was trying to give him. “Wait for me to satisfy you.”

  She realized how alike they were in that moment. It was a mental intimacy that stunned her because it ripped so very deeply into her soul. He settled against her, his cock slipping between her spread folds. She was so wet, he penetrated farther, his face tightening as he held back from thrusting home. She needed to have him inside her, and she lifted her hips.

  “Gin,” he was growled through gritted teeth at her, his face a mask of strain.

  She heard him growl and then he was thrusting into her body, in a smooth, controlled entry. Her body stretching once more to take him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Like she’d been made to be his …

  That was bliss on a new scale again, a feeling she was eager to explore. She shifted, seeking motion, craving friction again. She watched his teeth flash at her as he curled his lips up into a grin, one that was pure compliment.

  “You’re firewater, Gin…” He pulled free and thrust back into her as he arched back. “Intoxicating.”

  It was an admission, one that she eagerly soaked up. Answering him was something she did with her body, lifting to take his thrusts, cupping his shoulders, and clasping him between her thighs. His body was tense as he held himself in check, increasing his pace only when she did.

  This time, climax was deeper. It felt like her core clenched with it, her body tightening around his length, intent on pulling his seed from him. She’d surged up toward him, crying out as it ripped through her. It dropped her back down in time to feel him giving into his needs, thrusting into her with a force that sent a last few ripples of satisfaction into her center. She heard him give over to it, growling as his body shuddered and he spurted inside of her.

  Nothing mattered after that, only the fact that they both lay like broken dolls on the surface of the bed, their breath raspy and bouncing off the walls.

  * * *

  Dunn Bateson was well past the age of looking at porn on his computer. If he wanted a woman, it would be easy to get one. Between his income and the fact that he approached his personal workouts with the same zeal he did getting his profit line increased, his bed was only ever empty because he had made the choice for it to be so.

  But he didn’t kill the uplink that was feeding him a live shot of Thais Sinclair. He should have. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d felt any sort of stirrings from his conscience. At least when it came to a woman.

  She was an agent, a very experienced, very successful one, but now that he was taking the time to watch her, he realized he knew very little about her origins. That was a slip up he didn’t often make and it made him chuckle because he’d fallen for her ruse, at least in so much as he hadn’t taken the time to investigate her.

  A lapse like that could be fatal in his field. Where people came from, that was information that carried a lot of importance. It would tell you who they would kill for and whose blood they wanted staining their hands. A woman like Thais had been selected early in life for her obvious attributes and cut off from those who would have instilled anything such as virtues in her.

  At least, that was the normal way an agent like her was created. There were exceptions and he discovered himself curious to see what he could dig up on her. Still, not enough so to move away from the computer. He watched her light a candle and stand for a moment as though she was enjoying the primitive light. One side of his mouth curved up because fire was something that stroked the primitive parts of everyone’s brain. Those last remaining survival instincts left from eras long past when fire meant life.

  Thais bathed in the light, stripping and turning so that it touched every inch of her skin before she climbed into the tub. Her hair was just long enough to be gathered up in a man’s hand. Of course it was. She knew her art well.

  It was a jaded thought, one that made him reach for his whiskey. The bite of the beverage seemed to enhance the sight of her lying back in the tub but not because he was aroused by her bare flesh.

  No, it was due to the fact that he felt a stirring of something that he shied away from naming. An emotion awakening from the hibernation he’d put it into on purpose because things like remembering he had a heart only got in his way.

  That made him kill the link. The computer screen went back to his desktop as he took another sip of whiskey.

  He wouldn’t name it.

  Some things were too personal, which in his world translated into weakness. Thais Sinclair would not become one of his.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Take a walk with me.”

  Kagan had been expecting Carl Davis to say something along those lines. The man had finally run out of hands to shake and shifted his attention to Kagan. That didn’t mean the man didn’t have plenty of business to attend to. What Kagan was interested in knowing, and what had kept him making sure he was visible to the presidential hopeful, was discovering just where their business ranked. Carl had walked away from several movers and shakers in the Republican party. Kagan fell into step beside him. They passed debutantes decked out for the event in diamonds and perfectly tailored gowns. They were watched over by bodyguards, Secret Service, and politician wives.

  Carl didn’t stop until he made it to the gardens and settled into a place that was near enough to a fountain to have the water sound covering their conversation.

  “I want the witness turned over to my people.” Carl laid down his cards immediately.

  Kagan cracked a grin. “Interesting request.”

  “You should put your people to better use.” Carl issued the threat in a clear tone. “I can insure she gets in front of a judge.”

  “You can,” Kagan agreed. “The question I might ask is, will Tyler Martin agree with that?”

  Carl pushed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You and I need to establish a solid working relationship.”

  “Could be a good idea,” Kagan agreed.

  Carl’s lips twisted in a knowing grin. “What’s the price of that sort of friendship?”

  “It’s not Tyler Martin. Like I said, if I wanted him dead, I could do it.”

  His answer surprised Carl. Kagan watched that emotion flicker in Carl’s eyes before Carl tightened his expression and tried to decide what Kagan was up to.

  Carl nodded. “He’s my man? Is that your angle?”

  “Exactly,” Kagan agreed. “I’m focused on larger goals. Long-term ones that include my Shadow opps being in play.”

  Carl slowly nodded. “My point in having this conversation. No executive orders to shut down.”

  “Hopefully you’ll see the value my teams bring to this country.”

  “That might be a whole lot easier if you stayed out of my affairs,” Carl explained. “That includes Tyler Martin. He takes care
of things for me. Hand over the witness so he can do his job.”

  “I still question what you’re going to do with her.” Kagan’s tone had hardened. “She saw Martin doing his best to kill her. But you know that or Martin isn’t the man for you.”

  Kagan watched Carl consider his next words.

  “Turn her over to Tyler,” Carl countered. “And I’ll know you’re on my side of the field. I take care of my team; your Shadow opps would have a solid future. You’re experienced enough to know you have to trade a few good horses in to keep your head above water.”

  It was a threat. A clear one that Kagan would be a fool to ignore.

  Kagan drew in a deep breath. “I’ll think it through.”

  Surprise flickered in Carl’s eyes again. Kagan noted it before he turned and walked off into the gardens leaving the man to wait on him. Shadow Operations included a lot of bluffing, but what weighed on his mind was the hard fact that there were times when he had to make good on his bluffs. It was possible this might be one of those times.

  Life wasn’t fair.

  * * *

  His mother had raised him right.

  But Ricky Sullivan’s father had been a different matter. His father, Patrick Sullivan, had been at home in a riot and preferred to rub elbows with those men who believed Ireland needed to be freed. He’d taught his young son early the value of gaining what you wanted, through any means necessary, because there was nothing more important than winning.

  At least that was what Rick Sullivan had walked away from his childhood with. His father was rotting in a prison, courtesy of a bombing conviction. It had left the family with few friends, at least among the sort that might have served as an example of how being a law abiding citizen could be a good way to live life.

  No. After his father had loudly proclaimed his guilt in a court room, the only people who came around his mother’s house were those who viewed them as compatriots. Taking up contract killing was just a way to keep a roof over his mother’s head by using what was at hand. Was it wrong? Not really, the way he saw things. The people he went after were fattened up on the things they’d stolen from men like his father. Those who never even looked down their noses at the masses they used to push their products and fill their pockets. Men who let people like his father take the fall for what they wanted done while being deaf to the cries of their families. See, his father hadn’t planned a bombing on his own. No, he’d been lead down a carefully baited lane by men who had never done a day in prison for the cause they preached so passionately.