by Eva Chase
The real shame was that we’d only get to do this once, and then we’d be enemies again. I supposed I should enjoy the collaboration while it lasted.
We talked for a while longer, hashing out the details of the missing person story, and then we parted ways. In the elevator, Bash got out his phone. “Should I reach out to Nikolev?”
“Not yet. When I have the materials put together, I’ll give you a shout. I don’t want him any more involved than he needs to be. In the meantime, I do have a few more things I’d like you to pick up for my next mountain expedition.”
He set off to round up the remaining equipment, and I stepped into my room.
The second the door closed behind me, a knife of pain sliced up through my hip and abdomen from my thigh. I staggered, my lungs squeezing tight.
My breath rattled in my throat. My hand, groping along the wall, washed out from the fingers to halfway up my forearm. For a few seconds, even staring at it, I couldn’t feel the texture of the plaster beneath my palm.
I closed my eyes, and sensation gradually seeped back through my body. Fuck. I’d had an episode yesterday morning right before I’d left with Bash too. They were coming on more frequently now.
John’s question from two days ago came back to me. Are you going to be okay to see this whole operation through?
The answer was the same: I had to be.
Chapter Twenty
Sherlock
I opened the door to my hotel room at a knock, expecting to see one of my colleagues. Instead, Jemma stood on the other side, already dressed in cargo pants and a thin tank top as if ready to set off on her mission right now. She placed her hands on her hips.
“Well, are we good to go?”
It took me a moment to recalibrate my reaction. I supposed, in a way—temporarily—this woman was one of my colleagues. “You could have simply phoned,” I said.
“I wanted to go for a walk anyway.” She cocked her head at me. “Should I head back to my hotel and get on my phone if I want an actual answer?”
“No, no, but I’m not sure it’s the best subject to be discussing out here in the hall.”
I stepped back to let her come in, and my point was proven before she’d even finished entering. John poked his head out of his room next door, clearly having heard her voice.
“Is there news?”
“For you? Not unless Sherlock’s been keeping quiet with you too,” Jemma called over her shoulder. She sank down on the edge of my bed.
John came over anyway. The last few days, he’d been more attentive of Jemma than he had been even when she’d first charmed him back in London. The change had happened after they’d gone out on that helicopter flight, to be precise. Something must have happened between them then.
I hadn’t asked because I suspected it was the sort of thing John would rather keep private. It wasn’t as if I could fault him if he’d continued to indulge in her charms, any more than I could deny that I’d gotten more than professional satisfaction out of the recent truce I’d shared with her. All the same, watching his gaze sweep over her body made my skin tighten.
It wasn’t so strange that I’d be concerned about him, was it? This woman had tricked the three of us into committing a major crime not that long ago. Her current story lined up with the evidence I’d seen with my own eyes, and I hadn’t caught any inconsistencies or unusual occurrences to make me question her true situation as I had last time, but she’d proven her wits were as sharp as mine. I couldn’t take anything I thought was true for granted.
“We made our arrangements after you sent along your online work,” I said. “Garrett went back to speak with one of the police chiefs after lunch to finalize the details of tonight’s raid, but they are committed now.”
“And very interested in making a heroic showing in my report,” John added with a grin.
“All right. That’s good.” Jemma leaned back on her hands, denting the bedspread I’d pulled flat a few hours ago, but a tension lingered in her shoulders that offset her casual pose and tone. “You’ll be able to keep them on a leash until I set off the flare, I assume. That should give me just enough time to take care of my part.”
We were bringing two squads of special officers by helicopter to plateaus in the rocky mountainside above the commune’s forest location. On that terrain, with the distance we’d have to cover, I expected it’d take us at least twenty minutes to reach the village. The fastest among us, anyway. John had tried to insist that I stay back on account of my ankle, but the sprain was healing quickly. I didn’t need the crutch anymore to move around this room.
And I’d be damned if I wasn’t there to take responsibility for the mission I’d agreed to orchestrate.
“We’ve told them we have an associate who’s gotten close to the commune to gather evidence, and that you’ll signal us when it’s the best time to rush in,” I said. “I don’t think they’ll be in any hurry to go charging off into the woods without that confirmation.”
“Everything’s ready then.” She let out a breath and smiled, but the set of her lips looked tense too.
She was still human, after all. In less than twelve hours, she was going up against enemies far more personal to her than to us, enemies who’d already made an attempt at killing her. She’d be going in alone.
I felt reasonably certain I’d survive the night. Jemma might not have the same expectation.
“I know I’ve said this before,” I said, “but are you sure you shouldn’t have some sort of backup with you? Can’t that Moran fellow follow your lead?” What was she going to do if the entire commune converged on her with assorted weaponry?
“Bash will be waiting to help me get back off the mountain,” Jemma said. “Believe me, if I could have him covering me, I would.”
I still didn’t understand her insistence on going solo, but I’d decided by now there wasn’t any benefit in arguing about it. “Well, if there’s any additional equipment you think would help your efforts that your own connections haven’t been able to provide…”
Amusement glittered in her gray eyes. “Are you worried about me, Mr. Holmes?”
For some reason, her use of my last name sparked a flicker of heat inside me. Perhaps because the only other time she’d used it recently, in the same teasing tone, we’d been talking about propositions.
“Not so much worried as aware of the magnitude of the danger you’re insisting on throwing yourself into,” I hedged.
A smile curved her lips. She pushed herself off the bed and sauntered up to me where I’d stayed standing not far from the door. Close enough that her coolly sweet scent, like violets blooming by moonlight, reached my nose.
“I’m flattered that I’m worthy of your concern,” she said. Then she bobbed up to brush a kiss to my lips, so soft it reminded me of the peck she'd given me right before she took off on us in London. As if she were saying good-bye with it.
The thought made something clench in my chest. She touched my neck to lean into the kiss, letting it linger on longer than that past one. Despite the hunger that stirred in me, my nerves twitched with the awareness that John was standing just a few feet away.
I pulled back. “Perhaps this isn't the time.”
Jemma glanced from me to John, who was standing by the narrow desk with his face set in an uncertain expression, and returned her gaze to me with a laugh.
“Do you think John minds? He probably likes watching, and he's welcome to join in if he wants. He'd like to be kissing you too, you know—and everything else from that to fucking.”
“Er,” John said, his cheeks flushing.
My spine had gone rigid, my thoughts scattering. I managed to say, “Perhaps we should leave behind this subject entirely.”
Jemma rolled her eyes. “My God, you are hopeless. You do remember what happened in London, don’t you? You recall that you have kissed him before? I’m assuming you haven’t really completely erased that moment from your mind.”
I’d buried
it very, very deep. Even the brief flicker of memory that rose in the back of my head—the firm pressure of his mouth, not at all like Jemma and somehow provoking a reaction so similar—tipped my sense of balance. Suddenly I wished I hadn’t left my crutch leaning against the headboard.
“I remember,” I said, looking only at her.
She raised her chin impertinently. “Then you might as well put him out of his misery already. Did you run away because it was so horrifyingly unpleasant?”
Heat started to collect around my collar. I didn’t know what to make of what I’d felt during that kiss; I didn’t want to talk about it at all. It had been so much easier not having to think about it, setting it aside as irrelevant data. A momentary whim spurred on by Jemma’s coaxing… Nothing worth shaking the foundations of our partnership—our friendship—over.
John was the only bloody friend I’d ever had, if I was being honest. The only person in my life who’d observed my peculiarities and wanted to immerse himself in them rather than backing away. He’d seemed happy enough to set the incident aside too.
He wasn’t arguing with her assessment of the situation, though. I might not be ready to meet his eyes, but I could feel him standing there, waiting on my answer as much as she was.
We could end this conversation right now if I said yes, but I wasn’t going to tell a lie that might wound him.
“No,” I said. “It was not horrifyingly unpleasant.”
“How would you describe it, then?” Jemma asked.
I shifted my weight. Standing here still favoring my ankle in its brace was starting to strain my other leg. “I’m going to sit down,” I said.
She swept her arm toward the spot on the bed she’d vacated. “Be my guest, as long as you answer the question too.”
I settled myself on the covers and braced my hands against the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure how to describe it, because there was rather a lot going on around that moment, and it’s difficult to pick apart what—and who—caused which sensations.”
“But there wasn’t any part of it you found off-putting.”
“No,” I admitted, and then I finally found the wherewithal to look at John again.
His flush had faded, but his eyes held a slightly feverish light. “It wasn’t at all off-putting to me either.”
“Wow. Such enthusiastic declarations.” Jemma shook her head, her ruddy waves skipping over her shoulders. She paused to consider us both in turn. “I don’t suppose you’d like to try it again and see if we can come up with words beyond ‘not off-putting’?”
John shifted forward and hesitated. My shoulders tensed.
Jemma sighed. “We can start with this then.” She glanced toward John. “Would you like me to kiss him?”
Half a smile curled his lips. “Absolutely.”
I might have protested that surely I should have some say in the matter, but Jemma had already cupped my jaw and leaned down to make good on that offer. The conversation we’d just had seemed to have stripped my nerves bare. The simple touch of her mouth sent my whole body tingling, in part because of John’s gaze on us.
“We’ll want to be clear-headed for tonight, don’t you think?” Jemma murmured, her lips still grazing mine. “Are you game?”
My head certainly didn’t feel at all clear right now. My cock was already starting to rise. The urge for release twisted through me.
It was a diversion. A way to pass the time somewhat productively while we waited to see our plan through. I could focus on that and not whatever else this might be.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“This is a good start.” She looked John’s way again. “Feel free to join us whenever the mood strikes you.”
She reclaimed my mouth, and this time I met her with equal ardor. I raised my hand to trace my fingers over her scalp, tangling them in her hair. She trailed her thumb along the sensitive path down the side of my neck that she’d gotten such delight out of stimulating. A quiver of pleasure raced over my skin in the wake of her touch.
John had come up behind her. He set his hands on her waist, watching us, and then kissed her spine where the neckline of her tank top dipped low. At her eager sound, he slid his hands higher under the thin fabric.
Jemma’s mouth caught mine with a hum and a nip of teeth. My fingers tightened in her hair. We were all one being generating pleasure together, and it felt perfectly natural.
I reached for her breast, wanting to tweak her nipple the way she’d responded so eagerly to during our truce, and my fingers brushed John’s. We jerked apart.
Jemma kissed me harder, and the awkwardness melted away. He shifted his attentions to snapping open the back of her bra. I slid my hand under one cup to caress the soft mound that could provoke such thrilling reactions.
Jemma swayed with our attentions. I squeezed her nipple, and she growled against my lips. That sound and the feel of her was enough to harden my cock completely. The crotch of my pants had become uncomfortably tight.
With a pleased sigh, Jemma pulled back and motioned me farther up the bed. She followed, prowling after me with a passionate fierceness I had to admit made me even harder. As she knelt beside me, she ran her hands over my chest. In a few seconds, she’d loosened my trousers.
“A little help?” she said to John, who was still standing by the end of the bed. My mouth went dry as he tugged the pants the rest of the way off.
Then Jemma was bending over me to ease her lips over my cock, and I didn’t have the capacity to feel anything but ecstatic. The hot slickness of her mouth and the swirl of her tongue sparked to life places in me I hadn’t known existed.
A curse tumbled from my lips. She smiled around me and licked me from base to tip with a force that echoed bliss through every inch of my body.
John came around the bed to stroke Jemma’s back and chest again. She practically purred, her breath spilling over my groin in the most exhilarating way. When she eased up, her tongue flicking around the head of my cock, my body screamed for her to take me back down again.
“You could feel even better than this,” she said to me with a teasing lilt. “I’ve gotten to enjoy the benefit of two mouths, two sets of hands. Wouldn’t you like to discover that experience, Sherlock?”
My gaze jumped to John’s face. He met my eyes, his expression hesitant but… hopeful?
The longing I read in his eyes made my own hesitation seem ridiculous. What was there really to be afraid of here? I was master over my emotions, not the other way around. Why shouldn’t I accept what he so clearly wanted to offer and see where it would bring us?
I extended my hand tentatively. If I’d had any doubts about how eager John was, they’d have been erased by the way he beamed in response. He shifted onto the bed, searching my face. My heart thumped faster, but I tipped my head toward him. He bent down and let his mouth come to rest on mine.
Oh, it was good. Awkward but somehow just right, his lips carefully adjusting against mine until my head twitched upward to solidify the kiss, the fervent tremor of his breath in response. His fingers traced along my jaw.
Jemma bowed over me, and my nerves flooded with sensation like a candle burning at both ends. My hips arched up at the swivel of her tongue. My mouth collided with John’s again. The pulsing build of my release swelled at the base of my cock.
At the rasp of a zipper, my eyelids fluttered open. Jemma had yanked down the fly of John’s khakis. While she teased one hand over my balls, she dipped the other into that opening to grip his erection.
He groaned against my lips, and they parted as if to accept the sound. Our mouths melded together even more avidly than before. It felt too good, between him and her—overwhelmingly so. I turned my head to break the kiss, my breath ragged.
Jemma sucked me hard, and I let out a groan of my own. She released me with a rough gasp.
“My turn again. John, my purse—condom.”
When he glanced at me as if worried he’d misstepped, I nodded to
say we were all right, as coherently as I was able to. Without another second’s hesitation, he fumbled for her purse.
I’d seen other men naked before—at the gym, in the sauna—and John was still mostly clothed, but I’d never seen an erect cock other than my own. I couldn’t help watching as he unrolled the condom over his rigid length. Then he was yanking Jemma’s pants and panties down and tucking his hand between her legs in a way that made her lips squeeze around my own cock. My vision hazed with pleasure.
John closed his eyes as he thrust into her. He pumped in and out with a shaky exhalation, and Jemma rocked with him. The motion rippled into me with the rhythm of her sucking and the swipe of her tongue, as if he were fucking me through her as well.
My balls contracted. I came with a blaze of bliss that seared through all the scattered emotions I’d been grappling with, every bit of concern I might have had about the mission ahead of us. Burning me clean so my thoughts could regather in better order. It was the best kind of high I’d ever felt. Jemma hadn’t lied when she’d promised me that all those weeks ago.
She licked me clean as I softened in her mouth and then ducked her head against my thigh with a moan provoked by John’s thrusts.
“Fuck,” John said hoarsely.
“So close,” Jemma muttered, her fingers curling into the bedspread like they had when I’d worked her over last week. A fresh flare of desire shot through me. I could make her release as dazzling as mine had been.
I turned on the bed as swiftly as I could and pulled her into a kiss, ignoring the salty musky flavor that must be mine on her lips. My other hand traveled to fondle her breast exactly the way that had made her moan before. A cry broke from her throat as my thumb swept over the peak. Her lips mashed into mine with the trembling of her own climax.
