Total Control

by Griffin, Laura

  He leaned over and kissed her forehead. It was the most perfect thing he could have done, and she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t think of a thing.

  Instead, she nestled her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and felt his fingers sifting through her damp hair.

  Her hair hadn’t even dried from her shower. That was how fast everything had happened. That was how fast she’d thrown caution out the window and ended up naked in bed, her head tucked against Jake’s chest. Her eyes drifted shut, and she sighed softly.

  She didn’t want to think about it now. She just wanted to be.

  Something cold and wet nudged Lexie’s arm, and she opened her eyes.

  Scout rested her chin on the bed and stared at her with soulful brown eyes.

  Lexie looked around. Candlelight flickered off the walls of her room. Beside her, the bed was empty. She sat up to look at the clock: 9:45.

  She got up and slipped into her short black robe. The silky fabric felt cool against her skin as she tied the sash and checked the mirror. Her hair was a tangle, and she spent a few minutes freshening up before following the tantalizing scent of grilling onions down to the kitchen.

  Jake stood at the stove in a T-shirt and jeans, his feet bare. He glanced up from a sizzling skillet, and she had to smile at how sexy he looked with mussed hair and a wooden spoon in his hand.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She walked over and slid her arms around his waist, peering around him at the skillet filled with onions. A perfectly cooked rib eye sat on a plate beside the stove.

  “Looks good.”

  “I found a bag of coals in your pantry.” He switched off the burner and turned to face her. “Your grill’s about to fall apart.”

  “It’s not mine.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “It belonged to the previous owner. Same with the surfboard.”

  “You don’t surf?”

  “Nope.”

  He reached for a glass of wine and took a sip. “Ever tried it?”

  “Nope.”

  “You should.”

  She leaned back against the counter and smiled. “Maybe I will sometime.”

  She waited for him to say something about teaching her. She had no doubt he knew how to surf, having grown up in La Jolla. She’d be willing to bet there wasn’t a water sport out there that he hadn’t mastered.

  He stepped closer and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  He kissed her, sliding his fingers into her hair. It started slow and easy, but then his hands went around her waist, and he lifted her onto the counter and moved between her knees. He tasted so good and masculine. His skin smelled smoky from the grill, and she couldn’t get enough of breathing him in. Then his hands were inside her silk robe, stroking her breasts. She’d come downstairs famished, and now all she could think about was feeling his hands on her.

  “Lex.” His breath was warm against her neck. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did, and he scooped her up and carried her from the kitchen.

  “Sofa,” she said breathlessly.

  He lowered her onto the sofa arm and leaned her back. Then he hovered over her, smiling.

  “Your steak’s getting cold,” he said.

  “I don’t care. Come here.” She pulled him down to kiss her. His strong thigh rested on the cushion, and she gripped it between hers. He kissed her and kissed her. Then he untied her sash and slid his talented hands over her body as she groaned and arched against him. She reached for the snap of his jeans, desperate to get him out of his clothes.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he said against her mouth.

  “No. Here.”

  “I need something.”

  She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a condom, and his eyebrows went up.

  “You came down here with a plan.” He kissed her neck. “Damn, that’s hot.”

  She hurriedly unfastened his jeans as he kissed her. Then he moved his mouth over her skin, pushing the fabric of her robe out of the way, and she felt a delicious shiver of anticipation. Closing her eyes, she felt his mouth and his hands and the amazing power of his thighs as he knelt on the sofa. She stroked her hands over his body and heard the tear of the condom wrapper. He pushed her legs apart, and she held her breath as he thrust inside her.

  It was so amazing. He was so amazing. They were amazing together, and she pulled him tightly against her and held on for the ride. She loved the power of his body, his intensity, the way he moved as though he couldn’t get enough. She dug her nails into his hips. He reached back to take her hands. Without breaking the pace, he moved them above her head, pinning her wrists to the sofa arm.

  She arched back, pressing against him as he drove into her over and over and over. Everything felt hot and dizzy and impossibly good as she struggled to keep up with him, but she couldn’t, and she felt her control slipping.

  “Jake.”

  She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and cried out as the climax ripped through her. She clung to him, her body quaking and shuddering as he came.

  For seconds or minutes, they lay there, glued together and panting. Gradually, she drifted back to earth. She stroked her hands lazily over his back, taking care not to touch his injury as she savored the weight of him.

  How did she get here? Forty-eight hours ago, she was going about her life, completely oblivious to the raw, earth-shattering power of sex with Jake. Now she couldn’t think of anything else.

  He rested his forehead on her breast, and she closed her eyes and sighed, combing her fingers through the thick softness of his hair.

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You want to spend the night?”

  “Yeah.”

  She laughed. “That was a quick answer.”

  “Easy question.” He propped himself up on his elbows and gazed down at her. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible before I leave.”

  The frankness of his words caught her off guard, and she felt a giddy bubble inside her chest.

  But it quickly popped as she thought about him leaving soon.

  “What about Scout?” he asked.

  “She’s welcome, too.” She glanced at the pooch, who was snoozing peacefully in front of the armchair.

  “I’ll text Lucas,” he said. “I can drop her off at his brother’s place in the morning.”

  “Good.”

  He disentangled their bodies and got up. He disappeared into the downstairs bathroom, and she rolled onto her side, rearranging her robe. He came back and stretched out beside her, and she rested her head against his chest. It was a tight fit on her narrow sofa, but she liked it.

  He stroked his fingers through her hair, fanning it across the cushion. “I’ve been thinking about this forever.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I have.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Forever?”

  “All right, since last summer.”

  It wasn’t just her, then. She couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face.

  Was he always this sweet after he slept with someone? If so, he had to have left a trail of heartbroken women across Southern California.

  The thought of it put a knot in her stomach.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I’m thinking about the case. And everything I have to do tomorrow.” She decided to add some honesty. “And, you know, about how you’re leaving soon.”

  He didn’t respond to that, just gazed down at her.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  His expression changed, and she immediately regretted the question.

  “I can’t talk about the details.”

  Of course not.

  “I’ll call you when I get back, though,” he said. “It’ll probably be eight weeks.”

  She closed her eyes. This was exactly the conversation she hadn’t wanted to have with him. S
he was setting herself up for a no-win situation here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Let’s just keep things . . . casual,” she said, not really liking the word.

  “Is that code for you ignoring my calls for six months?”

  She gazed up at him, and nerves fluttered through her stomach. His eyes were so blue, and he looked so earnest right now. Jake was hard enough to resist when all she had was a text message or a voice mail, but resisting him in person was completely different. He seemed so sincere, but that was completely at odds with her expectations about him being a player.

  He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

  “We don’t need to make this more than it is,” she said.

  “What is it?”

  “Like I said. Casual.”

  He paused, searching her face. “Is that what you want?”

  She gazed up at him and discovered that she couldn’t lie to him. “What I want is for us to be realistic.”

  That was true. She did want to be realistic. She wanted to protect her heart from the possibility of being crushed.

  He seemed to accept this explanation. Or at least he didn’t argue.

  He sat up and reached for his jeans on the floor.

  “Come on,” he said, and Scout immediately perked up.

  “Come where?”

  “Your steak’s waiting. Let’s eat.”

  Jake scanned Lexie’s block for anything suspicious. Joggers plodded down the sidewalk. Early-morning traffic filled the streets. A battered silver minivan with surfboards on top pulled into a space near Lexie’s condo. Jake watched as several young men hopped out and started pulling on wet suits. Jake walked past them, and Scout stopped to sniff the van’s tires, unfazed by the marijuana smoke wafting out.

  Jake shifted his attention to Lexie’s door as they approached it. He’d left her sound asleep, her arms tucked under her pillow. After working two all-nighters followed by last night’s sex marathon, she’d been completely tapped out, and Jake had resisted the temptation to wake her up. She needed the rest. He hadn’t given up hope of catching her in the shower, though.

  He let himself in the front door using the key he’d grabbed off the hook in her kitchen.

  “Jake?”

  “It’s us,” he said, unlatching the leash. The dog rushed into the kitchen, and Lexie crouched to pet her. She was dressed for work in one of her tailored black suits, and her hair made a shiny cascade down her back.

  “Hi there. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” She scratched Scout’s ears as the dog practically trembled with glee.

  Lexie’s gaze settled on Jake. “You took her on a walk?”

  “Just to the beach and back.”

  Lexie stood up, and Jake pulled her against him, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Good morning.” She gazed up at him, and a smile spread across her face. “I thought you left.”

  “You thought I’d take off without saying goodbye?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m glad you didn’t.”

  He pulled her closer and kissed her longer this time, wishing he’d cut his walk short so he wouldn’t have missed her shower.

  She eased away, looking serious now. “I’m late for work.” She checked her watch. “Are you taking Scout back?”

  “I’m supposed to take her to Lucas’s brother in Santa Monica at ten.”

  “He’ll be there?”

  “Yeah, he works from home.” He frowned down at her. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re all tense. I can tell something’s on your mind.”

  She heaved a sigh. “I have to talk to Gordon this morning, our director of CT. He just flew in from Washington.”

  “You’re on a first-name basis with the CT chief? I’m impressed.”

  “I’ve worked on several big cases.”

  “That’s why he likes you.”

  “So far. And that’s why I think I can make my case directly to him. That we need a search warrant for Courtney Stapleton’s house. Or at least a real surveillance team. I think she’s key to this.”

  “And what is ‘this,’ exactly?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But whatever it is, I think it’s imminent.” She paused. “Don’t you, after everything that happened over the weekend?”

  “I don’t know. But I have no doubt you and your team will figure it out.”

  She didn’t look boosted by his vote of confidence. Instead, she looked distracted.

  She reached for her car keys on the counter. “Are you okay to let yourself out? Feel free to grab some coffee first. Or shower or whatever. I wish I could stay, but my meeting’s at ten, and I have to prepare.”

  “No worries. You don’t mind if I use your shower?”

  “Not at all. Just, you know, lock up when you leave. There’s a thumb latch. And I can give you the alarm code.” She recited the four-digit number, then crouched down again to pet Scout.

  Jake watched her, wishing she didn’t have to go to work. He had to be back on base tomorrow, and it was a crapshoot when he’d be home again. Eight weeks was optimistic, but it could just as easily be ten. His crazy schedule had never bothered him, but lately he’d been wishing he had more control over it.

  She stood and looked at him, taking a tentative step forward and resting her hand on his chest.

  “I’d like to see you tonight,” he said.

  “I’ll probably be working.”

  “After.”

  She nodded. “I’d like that, too.”

  Scout nudged herself between them, and Lexie glanced at her watch again.

  “Go. We’re fine here.”

  She crouched down to give Scout one last scrub behind the ears. Then she grabbed her purse off the bar. “I’ll call you.”

  He nodded.

  Scout sat at his feet, tail thumping, as he watched Lexie walk out. Jake listened to her start her car and back out of the driveway.

  “Think she’ll call?” He looked down, and Scout gazed up at him hopefully. “Yeah, me, too.”

  Jake went upstairs and made use of her shower, which was still steamy and sweet-smelling from her shampoo. He stood under the warm spray for longer than he needed to. Yesterday’s cleanup had consisted of a swim in the ocean, and it felt good to let fresh water sluice over his back.

  Jake dried off with one of her fluffy white towels and got dressed. Scout trailed him downstairs, where he poured coffee for himself and heated a pair of sausage biscuits in the microwave.

  He grabbed Scout’s leash off the counter, along with the breakfast, then activated the alarm and locked the door behind him as he left. Still scanning the street for anything suspicious, Jake walked to his pickup and stowed the food in the cup holder as Scout hopped in and scampered into the passenger seat. Jake slid behind the wheel and took a gulp of coffee. It was strong and hot, with a hint of cinnamon, and he could have downed a gallon of it after being up most of the night. He wedged the pirated mug into the cup holder, then glanced at Scout.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll bring it back.”

  It would give him another excuse, however lame, to make sure he saw Lexie again today. The prospect of not seeing her before he left was unacceptable. Even if she was working, he’d figure out a way to make it happen.

  Jake pulled into traffic. With the rush hour, it would take him an hour to get to Santa Monica. He had a detour first, though, and he picked up Venice Boulevard.

  Venice Beach was busy with exercisers, tourists, and Monday-morning commuters. Jake passed the taco truck from the previous day, and once again there was a line out front. Jake drove through the neighborhood and turned onto Courtney Stapleton’s street, where he spotted a space down the block from her house. It was a tight fit. Jake pulled into the opening and cut the engine. He picked up a sausage biscuit and tore it in half, offering some to Scout. She wolfed it down in one chomp.
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br />   Jake eyed the Honda in the driveway. He also noted the pair of trash cans on the street, awaiting pickup. Lexie had been right about trash day. Jake had a hunch that wasn’t the only thing she’d been right about when it came to Courtney Stapleton.

  According to his research, Courtney taught a 9:30 a.m. and an 11:00 a.m. class, which meant she’d be leaving soon. Jake was on his last bite of biscuit when she stepped through her front door and strode across the yellow lawn to her car.

  The woman was petite and blond, not at all what Jake had expected. She had a long braid down her back and wore a loose pink top with tight purple yoga pants. She carried an oversize brown leather purse, and she tossed it into the car before she slid behind the wheel.

  Jake watched her pull out. After biding his time until she was well past the stop sign, he started his engine and followed her. He took care to keep his distance. If this woman was connected to a terrorist sleeper cell—and Jake was beginning to think she was—then she’d be on the lookout for a tail, especially given what had transpired over the weekend.

  Lexie believed something was in the works. As in now. Jake wasn’t sure about the timing, but everything he’d seen in the last forty-eight hours raised a bunch of red flags.

  Jake hung back, keeping at least three cars between himself and Courtney as he followed her to work. She reached the strip center and turned in. Jake drove past and turned into the adjacent parking lot, where he found an empty space near a nail salon.

  Courtney didn’t get out of her car. She sat there in front of the yoga studio, talking on her cell phone as the parking lot filled—students for the nine thirty class, from the looks of them.

  At last, the door opened, and Courtney got out. She still had her phone pressed to her ear as she slung the purse over her shoulder and locked her car. She looked around and cut across the parking lot, headed for the glass door with the studio’s name stenciled across it. As she reached the door, a man stopped to open it for her. She handed him something and then disappeared into the studio.