by Lexxi James
Her next question was tricky. She didn’t want to pry, but she wanted so much more about his history with his supermodel ex.
“Hey,” Jake said, pulling her out of her mental ping-pong tournament. “This is a time for us to get our cards on the table. I know you’ll push my comfort zone, but I’m pushing yours too. I can take whatever you have to throw at me. Don’t hold back with me. Not now. Not ever.” He pulled her on his lap, suddenly serious in their game. “It’s no fun if you hold back.”
Her eyes searched his. Secure in his sincerity, she pressed on. “Why would Chelsea have a life insurance policy on you? She wasn’t listed as your next of kin when I . . . treated you.”
“How do you know that?”
Kathryn shrugged, knowing it was hopeless to keep this from him. “I checked. In case we lost you again.”
He pulled her close, so her head rested on the warmth of his chest. “Chels and I were engaged, but my dad and I decided it would be best if he was my next of kin. If someone had to break the news to my mom and Chels, we both wanted it to be him. But I wasn’t the same man when I returned home, and she wasn’t the same girl. We’d drifted apart.”
Wanting to lighten the mood, Kathryn turned playful. “So, did we each do a question?”
“Yup,” he said, tugging his T-shirt off over his head, and she did the same. Then he pulled her right back into his arms. “But I’m going next. Would you like more of what I gave you in the shower?”
Just thinking about it tied her tongue, and she struggled to answer.
His hand skated down her arm, and he whispered, “Well, kitten?”
Her breath coming out in little pants, she said softly, “Y-yes.”
He slipped out from her embrace and stood. As he stared down, his eyes darkened a shade from the bright hazel they were during the day. Tracing her lip with his thumb, he said, “Remove my pants.”
She did. With the button free and zipper undone, his bulge broke through as his trousers hit the floor. He stayed standing. Daring, she traced the band of his briefs with a finger and caught his eyes, waiting for approval.
He nodded, and off his briefs came. When she opened her mouth, ready to take him in, he touched her hair. “Not yet. Your clothes are standing between me and my meal. You’ve got one last question.”
“Right.” She exhaled slowly, absorbed in his hypnotic rod. “Um . . .” She cleared her throat, worried she was about to spoil an unbelievably hot moment, and hating herself for it. Dropping her head, she asked, “Do you still have feelings for her?”
He grabbed Kathryn’s arms, pulling her to her feet. “Not the way you think. And nothing like the feelings I have for you.” His gaze dropped to her jeans. “Take off the rest of your clothes. Then I want you bending over the breakfast table. You left the house without a word.”
She tried to interrupt, but he pressed a finger to her lips, sealing in her excuse.
“I was late. I didn’t call or text. Your quid pro quo was deserved. But I’m punishing you anyway, unless you stop me. And afterward, I’m eating.” He released her and stepped back.
Slowly, she removed her jeans.
I’m so wet.
Too wet.
He’ll think I peed my pants.
Slipping the stretchy lace down her legs, she casually slid her underwear beneath her bundled jeans, hiding the evidence.
“Not so fast, little kitten. Hand them to me.”
Although she didn’t want to, she handed him the tight wad of soaked undies.
The breakfast nook glowed with moonlight. When she did as he asked, pressing her palms on the table, the bright beams hit her like a spotlight. He posed her, leaning her over a little more, and pulled her hips back.
“Don’t move,” he said, and his words locked her in place.
His hot hands explored her, rubbing up and down her thighs and ass, finally settling across her slick center. He swiped, then sucked his finger clean.
His moan was deep, and his words raspy. “I want more.”
He slapped her ass—hard. Her loud whimper melted to a moan. He rubbed her ass, then spanked her other cheek even harder. Smack after heavenly smack, her waiting eruption grew.
His punishment was merciless, and her cries revealed her ecstasy. Two fingers dove deep to chase the source of her trembling. A few pumps in and he stopped, sliding his fingers out and sucking them clean of every drop of her need.
Then he rested his cock on the crack of her ass.
Just having the weight of his hard, heavy dick on her tender hole was too much. She felt new wetness dripping down the inside of her thigh, and she squirmed beneath him.
“Mmm . . . that’s it. I’m ready to see my main course.” With a last spank, he pulled back. “Sit on the edge of the table.”
Setting a chair before her, he made himself comfortable. There he sat, hard as a rock, his elbows on the armrests, and his fingers steepled to his chin. His hungry eyes scanned her, taking in every line of her body.
“Lean back,” he said. “Rest your weight on your hands.”
Obeying, she slid her palms behind her, lifting her chest and trying to calm her ragged breathing.
“Put your foot here.” His chin pointed to the armrest, but his hands stayed clasped together.
Doing her best Cirque du Soleil imitation, she arched her body back, lifting her leg as her foot found the arm of the chair.
He’d opened her, capturing her erotic exposure front and center.
“Now the other one.”
With that, she shifted her weight to follow his instruction, instantly graduating from dancer to gymnast.
The minute her foot landed on the armrest, his fingers swiped through the moisture at the very top of her inner thigh. Her head dropped back, and she released a gasp as she shivered.
Her eyes fell shut as his lips made his way up her thighs, one hot little nibble at a time. Closer to her center, his tongue lashed her in long strokes, licking every juicy drop along her legs.
His avoiding her pussy pushed her to the brink. Her hips rocked, and her ass swiveled. But it was no use. His flaming tongue was set to torture.
Fidgeting for dear life, she clutched the edge of the table, her nails etching her frantic desire into the wood. “Please,” she begged.
“Not good enough.” He stopped, and his gaze locked on her wanting eyes peering through heavy lids. The tip of his finger traced the top of her thigh. “You tried hiding something from me.”
Confused, she panted, barely able to breathe. “What?”
He raised her lace undies by one finger, swinging them slowly in the moonlight. “Trying to hide your sweet soaking-wet panties from me. That has earned you a day of no undies . . . and a few more minutes of this.”
The heat from his finger was killing her as he tormented her. His fingertip grazed figure eights across her thighs and traced up her ass, avoiding her pleasure center.
Overcome with desire, she panted out, “I need you.”
Her whimpers climbed as his tongue skimmed her, tracing a torturous path along her slit. Her back arched, and then she lifted her hips.
Grinning, he gripped her hips, holding her in place. His voice deepened with the darkness of his eyes. “I know what you need.”
The heat of his breath at her entrance made a gasp shoot from her throat.
The serpentine stroke of his tongue was so strong, her body began to shudder, climbing for an orgasm way too fast. He pulled back.
“I—I . . .”
“Shh.”
He massaged her hips, letting her come back down, then pressed two fingers inside her, pumping hard. Her legs draped over his shoulders as the shuddering burst from deep within.
“Come, little kitten.” His tongue made its way to her clit, where his lips latched hard, pushing her to another level of bliss. Her throaty screams echoed throughout the room, stopped only by the exhaustion of her breath.
Collapsing on her elbows, she began sliding off the table. He
lifted her, then set her into the chair still warm from his body. Hers wouldn’t be the only orgasm that night.
He took a turn propping a foot on the armrest, as the hunger in his eyes melted to longing. When the bravest man she’d ever known wanted nothing more than her lips around his cock, the man was getting some serious deep throat, and failure was not an option.
Fisting the base of his heavy shaft, she worked his length with her lips and tongue, sweeping further down each time. But now and again, she’d come up for air, needing to take an amateur breath.
“Easy, kitten,” he finally said before riding her lips to the peak of momentum. “I’m pulling out.”
The hell you are.
In too deep to turn back now, she clutched his ass, keeping him locked in her mouth. He tugged her hair, capturing her eyes, but not losing his rhythm.
Gruff and low, he demanded an answer. “Is this what you want?”
Her steady sucking picked up as her fingernails grazed his butt.
She watched him, a voyeur in her own porno. His body moving was the hottest version of her every fantasy. His rapid thrusting slowed and he pulled in a breath, seeming to ride out the sensation.
Her fingers walked high up his back, teasing his skin by letting her nails sink in, then waiting. Faster, he pounded into her mouth, his grip tightening on her hair.
“Now,” he cried, and she unleashed her nails deep down his body.
His release was hot in her throat, filling her with the satisfaction of knowing he was hers too.
He pulled out, lifting her shivering body into the heat of his, and carried her to bed.
Twenty-Eight
The morning ritual of breakfast with the boys was a little daunting this go-round. Embarrassed, Kathryn stared at the tabletop, now scarred with several scratches. The evidence of her rapturous fingernails solidified her guilt. The little marks practically winked at her.
Don’t blush.
DON’T blush.
Don’t.
Blush.
When Jake speared a plump breakfast sausage and laid it on her empty plate, her smile widened to the point of a giggle. Fighting her laughter, she said, “I need to get a few things taken care of. I’ll skip breakfast for now.”
The excuse was good enough to tear her away from the men. Without her, she heard them continue their breakfast and chatter over the game plan for the day.
In her bedroom, she was booting up her laptop when a light knock lifted her head. Jake strolled in with a plate of a little bit of everything and a fresh coffee. Scolding him with her eyes, she sipped the steaming-hot java. He set the plate on the nightstand, and their lips lingered in a kiss before breaking off in laughter.
“Sorry, kitten,” he whispered against her mouth. “I live for that gorgeous blush of yours.” A few pecks later, he let her get back to work.
Within a few hours, everyone had circled back. The money trail and motive traced back to one name—or half a name, really. That name kept popping up in connection to several offshore accounts with upward of a few million dollars, safely divided and stashed across a few Caribbean islands.
Having money isn’t a crime, Kathryn reminded herself.
Linking large wire transfers from the bank accounts of insurance beneficiaries to those accounts? Some would call it probable cause. The team considered it a hop, skip, and a jump to a slam-dunk case—if they could figure out the name connection. Sometimes it was a first name. Sometimes, a last name. But the same name popping up was more than a coincidence. All Kathryn knew to the depth of her being was they were making a mistake.
Aside from her hunch, she had nothing. And from the looks Jake gave her throughout the rest of the day, he wouldn’t be convinced without cold, hard evidence. Maybe all she needed was one crazy-ass idea.
“Bait?” Jake barked the word at her. “Any scheme that involves you as bait is obviously the worst idea in the world.”
His words boomed, echoing off the walls and windows of his home office. At least the door was closed. One thing Kathryn had learned about her escapade in the shower was that all the house’s rooms were blissfully soundproof.
Kathryn held her ground. “I could just start bragging in small circles that I’ve cracked this major case. Then I make those circles bigger until we lure out the culprit.”
Jake tightened his arms across his chest, teasing her with the sight of his solid biceps. “You might be tough as nails and independent as hell, but there’s zero chance we’re setting a trap like that around you.” He relaxed into a sexy half smile. “Perhaps I need you to assume the position?”
The warmth blooming in her cheeks caught her off guard. Defiant, she planted her hands on her hips. “It won’t stop me.”
Grabbing her hand, he yanked her to his lap. His low grumble feathered across her neck. “Don’t be so sure. I need you to stop thinking like this.”
Luring her with a seductive distraction wouldn’t work this time. “I’ve got to do something. I can’t just twiddle my thumbs.”
“You’re not,” he said, pressing a kiss to her lips. “And there is something nobody else can help with. Something I don’t want to discuss with the others. At least, not yet.”
“Carter.” She said his name quietly, sinking into the feeling that a premier surgeon—and her ex-husband—could be connected with these heinous crimes.
Jake nodded. “The team coming up with it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it with this case, but I didn’t want to mention it until I had more to go on. I talked with Chels. The life insurance policy showed up in the mail. She doesn’t remember much, but she assumed I’d initiated the policy with the tempo of my deployments. She called the phone number on the paperwork, but wasn’t interested because . . . well, she’d made a decision. She knew it might be the beginning of the end for us. Anyway, she ended up throwing it away. But there were so many meetings before my deployment, the only thing she remembered about the guy she spoke to was his name. Carter.”
Skeptical, Kathryn immediately challenged the recollection. “How could she possibly remember that?”
Rolling his eyes, Jake said, “She thought the name was sexy, so she called. And it stuck with her.” With a pause, he pushed out, “Carter R.”
She bolted from his lap. “There’s no way that’s possible, Jake. I was married to Carter Reeves for years. Sure, he’s an arrogant asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to medicine. One hundred percent. But if he were in it for the money, trust me, he wouldn’t live in shitholes in the Middle East for months on end. And Do No Harm isn’t just an oath to him. It’s his life. I’m telling you . . . it’s not him.”
“I’m not saying it is,” Jake said in a calm voice. “We need to figure this out, and we will. But in order to do that, I need your help, and not by letting you walk out the door as bait. Okay?” Staring her down, he waited for her response.
Resigned, she nodded. “Fine. I won’t be bait if you don’t hide things from me. Otherwise, you’ve earned a day of no boxers.”
The arch of his brow made it clear that her terms weren’t exactly a punishment. “Agreed,” he said slowly, his voice low.
Needing to avoid his ridiculously alluring magnetism, she stepped away to get her mind back on track. “What else do you have?”
“Not much. Chels didn’t sign anything. Someone was pre-populating forms, assuming the spouse would sign up the service member. But what’s bugging me is how someone could do that without consent. I kept everything I signed, and there was nothing like this.”
Kathryn stared out the window, not really seeing the mountains in the distance. “There’s a reason people like me have a career. It’s because there’s a dirty little secret in life insurance.” As her mental wheels turned, she started her habitual pacing. “Insurance fraud is easy to commit, and that’s why it’s such an attractive crime. Pretend I’m . . .”
Hell, what do I call her?
Chels? Chelsea? Ms. Anders?
Finally, Kathryn settled
on, “Your ex.”
His expression soured. “Oh, let’s say you’re not.”
Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.
Playing it cool, she continued. “Okay, then let’s cut to the chase and say I want to bump you off for a big life insurance payment.”
Unimpressed, he snorted. “Harsh.”
Huffing through a laugh, she pecked his pouting lips. “I’d need to take out a policy without you knowing. There are a few hurdles, but with a little imagination and the right connections, those obstacles vanish. Okay, we’ll jump over the hurdles one at a time. The first one’s called insurable interest. Effectively, it means we have a connection beyond being mere acquaintances.”
Jake raised his brows. “Is that what the kids are calling it?”
Holding in her giggles, she bit her lip. “Stop.”
“But we’re not married.”
“I did more research. Marriage isn’t required to have insurable interest. Even if we’re not financially connected, we can establish that interest as long as we’re emotionally connected. With spouses, especially in the military, you usually have both. But a fiancée is at the very least emotionally invested.”
“Okay, so we’ve established insurable interest. What next?”
“A few things. Your signature would be required. But a lot of times, in the chaos before a deployment, the insurance paperwork could be slipped in with other paperwork needing your signature. Voila, we have your legitimate John Hancock. Worst-case scenario, let’s say I can’t get your signature. So I forge it, or have someone else forge it. The problem is that some states require a notarized signature on life insurance policies. But where there’s a will, there’s a loophole. In this case, notary publics.”
Jake squinted at her. “Notary publics?”
“They sound official, but almost anyone can get licensed with little to no effort. The standards for becoming a notary public can be fairly loose, depending on the state. Some states don’t bother with requiring training. Others don’t even require an exam. Just an application and a few bucks for a seal and a ledger, and boom, you’re a notary public.”
