by Pamela Clare
“No, you’re not.” He wasn’t going to let her off easy.
Her gaze jerked to his, outrage on her face. She opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off. He wouldn’t play that game.
“People who are sorry don’t stare. You’re as attracted to me as I am to you. If the two of us weren’t trying so hard to follow the damned rules, I’d be fucking you—”
He never finished because Jenna jumped into his arms—and kissed him.
The feel of Derek’s lips against Jenna’s was like the answer to a prayer. If she’d had any fears that he might not take what she was offering, she forgot them when he crushed her against him, answering her kiss with his own, his little growl of approval an aphrodisiac. In a blink, she was high on him—the spicy scent of his skin, the hard feel of him, the heat of his lips on hers.
He scooped her into his arms, and carried her a few steps to his bed, the power of his body making her ovaries purr. He stretched out above her, his hips between her thighs, his gaze searching hers. “Are you sure?”
“God, yes.” She pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor to drive the point home, a shiver running through her when his gaze shifted to her bra.
Oh, how she wished she hadn’t worn one today.
She started to unfasten the front clasp of her bra, but he caught her hands.
“Let me.” She stretched her arms over her head, a gesture of surrender.
“God, Jenna.” His brow furrowed, and he rocked back on his heels, his big hands cupping her breasts through lace. “I love your breasts.”
He flicked her nipples with his thumbs, making them draw tight against the fabric, frissons of pleasure shooting through her, the fire in his gaze as arousing as his touch. Then he unfastened the clasp with a single quick motion, tugging off her bra and lowering his mouth to an aching nipple.
She moaned, arching to feed him more of her, every tug of his lips and flick of his tongue making her womb tighten and flooding her belly with liquid heat. She slid her fingers into his hair, his mouth moving from one nipple to the other and back again until she was all but writhing on the bed, months of suppressed sexual need unleashed.
Abruptly, he got to his feet, removed his holster and firearm, pulled his shirt over his head, and tossed it. Then he shucked his pants and, with them, his boots and socks, bending down to give her a glimpse of his amazing ass. And there it was—all of that beautiful male terrain she’d seen this morning.
This time, she let her gaze wander where it would—the bullet scar on his chest, the planes of his pecks, his broad shoulders, the bulges of his biceps, the ridges and valleys of his belly, the length of his impressive erection.
She needed to get out of her pants right now. She reached down with trembling hands to unzip her jeans, only too happy when Derek took over. He jerked them down her legs and tossed them onto the floor then stretched out beside her.
“God, you’re beautiful.” His gaze moved over her, the desire on his face making Jenna feel like the sexiest woman alive. He ran his hand from her breast to her inner thigh, teasing her with callused palms, tickling her with his fingertips, grazing her with his knuckles. “Your skin is so soft, like silk.”
“Yours, too.” She explored his chest, his light brown chest hair rasping against her palms, his nipples tightening beneath her fingers.
He kissed her then, slow and deep, his fingers finding her swollen clit, stroking her, driving her crazy. “I want to taste you.”
“Help yourself.” Did he think she was going to say no to oral sex?
He chuckled, a warm sound, then lowered his lips to her throat, nipping and licking his way down her body, kisses spreading fire over her skin. When he passed her navel, he grabbed a pillow and shoved it beneath her hips, raising her bottom off the bed.
She let her thighs fall open, exposing herself to him, holding nothing back.
He slid his hands down her inner thighs, his gaze fixed on her most private self, naked hunger on his face. “So sexy.”
Jenna was barely able to breathe as he situated himself, his gaze meeting hers for a moment before he parted her lips—and sucked her clit into his mouth.
The breath left her lungs, her hips jerking at the sweet shock of it, her fingers curling in his hair. “Oh. My. God.”
It was bliss. It was torture. It was blowing her mind.
Jenna tried to relax, to savor it, but he was just too good at this, pleasure rising too fast for her to stay on top of it. She couldn’t think, couldn’t say a single coherent word, panting and moaning as Derek pushed her closer and closer to the brink with his lips and tongue, taking all of her into his mouth, suckling her. He slid a finger inside her, stretching her, stroking her.
Heat drew tight in her belly—and exploded.
She came with a cry, climax washing through her, drenching her in bliss, leaving her breathless and limp. She felt him tug the pillow out from beneath her hips and opened her eyes to find him smiling down at her, his pupils dilated, a cocky grin on his wet lips.
“I like how you taste.” He reached for something—a condom.
Her heart melted. With most men, she had to ask.
She trusted him. “If you’ve been tested, you don’t need that. I was tested before I came here, and I’ve got an IUD.”
“I was tested three months ago—and I haven’t been with a woman since.” He dropped the condom and bent her knees back, opening her to him.
She took hold of his cock, stroked its hard length, then guided him inside her.
“I want you, Jenna.” He entered her with a single, silky thrust, filling her, stretching her, making her moan. His eyes went shut, breath leaving his lungs in a long, slow exhale. “Christ.”
Then he began to move.
Derek had forgotten what it felt like to have sex without a condom. Jenna felt so good—slick, tight, hot. His head was filled with her, her taste fresh on his tongue, her scent all over his skin. But if he wasn’t careful, he was going to embarrass himself. He was not a minute man.
Keep telling yourself that.
He opened his eyes, looked down at her sweet face, willing his body to relax, taking it slow and easy. He wanted to make her come again. He wanted to watch her face when climax hit her. He wanted to see her lose control.
But right now, he was the one on the brink.
She reached down to stroke herself, the sight of her fingers on her clit sending a shockwave of lust through him.
Holy hell.
He loved a woman who knew her own body and took what she needed. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to help.
“Let me.” He canted his hips so that his pubic bone touched hers then ground himself against her in slow circles, his cock buried deep inside her.
“Oh!” Her response was immediate, her moan erotic, her eyes drifting shut, her hands sliding up his arms to rest on his biceps.
Holding himself above her like this, he couldn’t suckle her, those beautiful breasts with their dark nipples swaying just beyond the reach of his mouth. But he could see everything—his cock sliding in and out of her, the pink flush that stole over her skin, her swollen breasts with their puckered nipples, the carnal delight on her face.
She caught on quickly, moving with him, her hips matching his motions.
He fought the instinct to thrust, letting her take everything she needed, his body a tool for her sexual pleasure. Her breathing had gone ragged, every exhale a whimper now, her nails biting into his skin like ten tiny razors, the pain sweet.
“Oh, God, Derek!” Her eyes flew open, bliss lighting up her beautiful face, their gazes locking as she came.
Derek rode through it with her, keeping up the rhythm, his heart thudding in his chest, some emotion he couldn’t name swelling behind his sternum.
He gave her a minute to recover, holding himself still inside her.
Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, then she looked up at him once more, a satisfied smile on her lips. “You’re too far awa
y. Come here.”
She drew him down against her, kissing him hard on the mouth, running her hands over his back, locking her legs around his waist.
Derek let himself go. He started slow, need for her driving him until he was pounding into her, his self-control in tatters. His balls grew tight—and he shattered.
“Jenna.”
Orgasm hit him with the force of a backdraft, scorching through him, leaving him to float like ashes in the wind.
For a moment, they lay there together, out of breath, hearts beating in tandem.
Derek’s awareness returned piece by piece—the soft feel of Jenna’s breasts against his chest, the caress of her fingertips along his spine, the musky scent of sex. Only when his erection began to fade did he withdraw from her.
He lay down beside her, drew her into his arms, his body replete, his mind blank. She snuggled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, the fingers of one hand tracing idly through his chest hair.
“I’ve never come like that before. I’ve always had to take care of myself if I wanted to climax through vaginal penetration.”
Derek grinned at her clinical word choice. “So, the brain surgeon is good with a scalpel but clueless with his dick.”
Didn’t it just figure?
Jenna laughed. “He wasn’t all that good with people, either—just brains.”
“Then I’m glad he’s out of your life.” Derek was surprised to realize he truly meant that. “You deserve better.”
That was the last coherent thought Derek had before he drifted to sleep, Jenna warm and soft beside him.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
He opened his eyes, Jenna sound asleep in his arms, and saw the light on his main viewing screen flashing.
Shit!
It was time for his evening strategy session with Corbray.
He climbed out of bed buck naked, leaving Jenna to sleep, and logged in, Corbray’s face filling the screen. He tried to block the camera’s view. “Can I call you back in ten?”
Jenna sat up, sleepy and confused, the sheet falling to her waist. “What … oh!”
She yanked the sheet up to her chin with the little shriek.
Corbray glared at him, his expression telling Derek that he’d seen it all. “Call me when you’re alone—and, bro, put on some damned pants. ¡Madre de Dios!”
13
Derek walked back to the bed, sat beside Jenna. “Sorry about that. That’s Javier Corbray, my business partner.”
“I figured.” She let the sheet fall, reached out to rest her hand on his thigh. “Did I get you into trouble?”
“No, I did that myself.” He shouldn’t have answered.
Corbray had looked pissed.
“Please don’t say you’re sorry.” There was a vulnerability on her face that tugged at him. “What we did meant something to me.”
Derek knew he ought to feel guilty. He’d broken Cobra’s rules, not only by having sex on the job but having sex with a client who also happened to be Jimmy’s little sister. But all Derek could feel was a bone-deep sense of contentment.
You are so fucked.
“I’m not sorry.” He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, knowing he had to be honest now or risk hurting her later. “I enjoyed it, too.”
Enjoy it? Hell, it had been the best first-time sex he’d ever had.
“Jenna, I don’t do relationships. You need to understand that upfront. I don’t want to mislead you or hurt you or make you think there’s a future for us, because there isn’t. I care about you. I always will. You’re smart and beautiful, and you’re incredible in bed. But I can’t promise you—”
“Don’t worry.” She smiled. “I wasn’t about to propose or anything.”
He chuckled. “I need to call Corbray back. I’ll walk you back to your room first.”
He reached for his clothes and dressed, then strapped into his holster. He might look like he was ready to get back to work, but he smelled like Jenna.
She dressed quickly. “Will I see you again tonight?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that this couldn’t happen again, that their having sex had been a one-off, but he didn’t want to. “I’ll be working late. We have a lot to do before the meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll check on you afterward.”
When she had finished dressing, he looked out into the corridor.
“Is the coast clear?”
“Yeah. Come.” He led her to the elevator and down one floor, careful to watch what he said and fighting the urge to kiss her or at least hold her hand.
There were cameras in the elevators.
“Supper is served from eighteen-hundred to nineteen-thirty. If you hurry, you won’t miss it. Do you know the way back to your room from here?”
“Yes.” The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out, an oh-so-sexy smile stealing over her lips. “Thanks for the tour. That was … amazing.”
The doors slid shut, and for a moment Derek stood there like an idiot, forgetting to push the button.
Get it together, man.
He went back upstairs to his suite, splashed his face with cold water to clear away the lingering sex coma, and then logged into the system.
Corbray answered on the first ring. “That better not have been who I think it was, or you and I are going to have difficulties.”
“Drop it.”
“Nah, man, I can’t. Jenna Hamilton is a client, for God’s sake. We do not fuck our clients. That’s in the rule book you helped write. If you break the rules, how can you expect to enforce them?”
“We were discreet.”
“Discreet. Right.” Corbray snorted. “You’re in a compound with a bunch of intel experts and analysts. Do you think they don’t know? You need to keep your head in the game, cabrón. What happens when you toss Ms. Hamilton aside like you always do with women when you’ve had enough? What happens if you break her heart and she runs to her daddy?”
Now Derek was angry.
Is Corbray hitting a little too close to home?
“She would never run to her father.” And Derek didn’t want to hurt her.
She wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t just the best first-time sex he’d ever had. There was something about her, something more than sex…
Are you listening to yourself?
Maybe Corbray was right. He needed to get his head back in the game.
He changed the subject. “If you’ve read the report from our meeting this morning, then you know we believe Kazi is behind this.”
“If that’s true, it’s a big problem for us—and for her.”
They’d built their primary base in Afghanistan in Mazar-e-Sharif because of their relationship with Kazi. They had millions of dollars of vehicles, computers, small arms, and other gear here. If Kazi had turned on them, they were in trouble.
“Our priority is getting Jenna … Ms. Hamilton… out of the province and the country. We’ve got a strategy meeting tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred.”
“I’ve called in some muscle to help. You’re going to need more boots on the ground. And, Tower, make no mistake, if we lose Ms. Hamilton, we lose the company, and we’re out of business for good.”
No way in hell was Derek going to lose Jenna.
Corbray moved on, going through their current operations one by one. “Our security detail has cleared the embassy in Venezuela, so the diplomatic team will be arriving tomorrow.”
The operatives in Jakarta had noticed an uptick in the number of former IS fighters trying to recruit in Indonesia and had reported it to the Pentagon. A U.S.-owned hotel in Kenya had requested security personnel and training in the wake of another terrorist attack in Nairobi.
Then Corbray dropped a bomb. “Holly is pregnant.”
“What?”
“You know what that means, right—baby in the belly, bun in the oven?”
“I know what it means.”
Corbray chuckled. “I was on the phone with Andris when Holly told him. S
he was in a complete panic, telling him she wanted an epidural. He told her she’d have to wait until she was having the baby for that.”
Derek was happy for them. “No more deployments for her for a while.”
“She’s on light duty stateside, effective immediately. We need to select someone to fill in for her.”
“Yeah. Right.” That was going to be tough. “What else do you have for me?”
Jenna stood in the elevator on her way down to the mess hall, reliving the past couple of hours in her mind. The tug of Derek’s mouth on her nipples. The rasp of his beard on her skin as he’d kissed his way down her body. The bliss of him going down on her, pounding into her. The rush of having all that man and muscle focused solely on her.
Don’t forget the greatest orgasm ever.
No, she wouldn’t forget that. How could she? Her body was still singing, the wetness between her thighs a sweet reminder of what they’d done.
Jenna was amazed that a man who’d spent his entire adult life at war could be so tender, so thorough, so damned good in bed. He was a fantasy come to life.
Lord, have mercy.
She knew her time with him was going to end sooner rather than later. She’d heard every word he’d said afterward. She knew that Derek wasn’t the kind of guy who planned on settling down, and she had no idea where she’d be tomorrow. Once Cobra got her out of Afghanistan, she would probably never see him again.
That’s a depressing thought.
It was the truth, and she needed to accept it.
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened.
She now knew her way around—mostly—and found her way to the mess hall. It looked like most people had already come and gone, trays stacked neatly on top of trash bins, a few people sitting at the tables.
Jenna got a tray, silverware, and a plate and went through the line, asking for the spaghetti and then visiting the salad bar. She sat by herself near the door and had just spread her paper napkin on her lap when a woman she recognized from this morning’s meeting walked up to her, tray in hand.
