Jay followed her gaze. Did the curtain move in one of the fourth floor windows? Charlee and Nathan’s apartment? If he couldn’t move her to the car, her apartment was the next safest place. “Which one is hers?”
Tony held up a finger. “Copy.” The way she continued to listen to her wireless com while wildly scanning their surroundings kept him rooted where he was, his heart beating a furious rhythm.
Her gaze flicked to him. “We’re on our way.”
“Was that Nathan?” He tucked Charlee close to his chest, her slight weight a comforting presence in his arm.
She nodded and spoke low in his ear. “He doesn’t believe the gunman would be here alone. Their apartment is secure, so we’re moving there until the rest of the team arrives.”
Charlee tensed in the cradle of his arms. Her eyes were closed, but a tremble rippled over her body.
The chatter in the parking lot grew louder. Multiple footsteps shuffled closer. Colson whirled around the corner and ran toward Jay and Tony. “Cover the principal. The shots drew a crowd.”
Jay’s blood heated and hairs on his nape bristled. Another gunman could be mingled in with the approaching crowd.
Colson and Tony shifted into their protective formation, pressing their backs to his flanks, closing in tightly with their gun hands at their sides.
Eyes sweeping the fence line, rooftop, windows, and blind corners, Tony applied her usual pressure signal—tapping her elbow beneath his—to set the pace and direct him to the back entrance of the building.
As dozens of wide-eyed, slack-jawed spectators filled the alley, all he could think about was holding Charlee as close as possible and how incredible it would’ve felt to have her arms wrapped around him, holding him back.
Chapter Thirty-Six
‡
Charlee hadn’t moved from the couch in their studio apartment since Jay carried her in from the rear alley. She couldn’t shake the hammering buzz in her head. If she were to guess, the gun firing beside her face had ruptured her eardrum.
What happened behind the building had registered a want she’d harbored for years. She’d been more than willing to squeeze the trigger and kill Roy’s man. But when it came to Roy, she didn’t just want to kill him. She wanted to destroy him.
With one hand on a towel at her ear, she shoved the other beneath her thigh to stop the violent trembling and blinked back the tears that thickened her throat. Neither Jay nor Nathan should have to deal with her fragility. They were suffering enough of her drama as it was.
The risks were riding her hard. How many Craigs prowled the property, waiting for them to emerge? Roy had caught up with them, but Nathan was still solidifying connections with Roy’s business adversaries. No one was prepared to stand against him yet.
Nathan prowled the room, cell phone to his ear, strategizing with his team in St. Louis.
Everything they owned filled half a dozen duffle bags and waited by the door. This time, they didn’t have a Marine chopper to carry them away.
Jay’s low tones drifted from the kitchen nook. His head bent toward Tony’s, lips moving, eyes hard as he glared at his bodyguard. Was he scolding her? Were they arguing over how to exit the building? Or was he just raging over the hell Charlee had led them into? Given his flushed cheeks, white-knuckled fists on his hips, and the heated way they whispered back and forth, Charlee guessed it was all of the above.
The heat in her graze wounds pulsed with the din in her eardrum. She removed the towel from the side of her head, relieved to see the flow of blood had slowed.
So fucking lucky. If Jay hadn’t distracted the Craig at the perfect moment, she’d be on her way to San Francisco. She wasn’t sure who fired first, but she knew she owed Jay her life.
“Keep pressure on it.” The cushion bounced with Nathan’s weight. He stooped down to meet her eyes. “Looks like you’re going to live.”
The dull throbbing pain was nothing compared to the up close and cutting wrath of Roy. “Yeah.”
He kept himself relaxed as he regarded her, but the strain of unleashed anger glazed his blue eyes. “You’re a pain in my fucking ass. Why didn’t you just stay in the car? Yet one more bad decision that’s landed us in a heap of shit.”
Ouch. She’d left the car because she was worried about him. No sense vocalizing that. “This is my shit, my problem. I never asked you to dirty your hands with it.” A tired argument, one he always ignored.
Nathan’s eyes hardened. “Let me have another look.” He turned her chin to examine the graze of the bullet behind her ear. “I don’t know if this one will scar.” He shifted his gaze to her ear. “Your earlobe…”
“Please don’t say it looks like Salvador’s.”
He swallowed.
Super. “Better than a hole in the head.”
He sucked in a breath and looked away. “I should’ve protected you better.”
Of course, he would assume personal responsibility. The burden he shouldered was so misplaced and undeserved. “You didn’t do this, dammit.” She returned the pressure of the towel to her head and gnashed her teeth against the burn.
They stared at one another through the swelling tension. What was going on behind those stony eyes? He’d told her for three years he didn’t blame her for Noah’s death, but she knew it was eating at him. How could he even look at her?
“I need to check in with the team.” He twisted to kneel against the back of the couch and parted the curtain behind her. A flood of daylight spilled in from the window that overlooked the rear alley.
“This is Nathan,” he said slow and crisp in the wireless headset. “There’s a stiff in the rear alley.” He moved to the window facing the side lot. “And there’s a crowd around our vehicle. Colson’s not going to be able to contain them.”
In the kitchen, Jay shoved his hands through his hair, the muscles in his biceps twitching. He’d risked his life to save hers, and he didn’t do it out of debt. The thought sent sticky tendrils of attachment wrapping around her. For once, they were coming from her. It was careless and selfish, but she didn’t want to fight it. And if he stuck around through gunshots and getaways, maybe he was more than just crazy. Maybe he was attached, too. She wouldn’t take that for granted.
The faint and undeniable blare of sirens pierced through the walls.
Jay shifted, found her eyes. Hair disheveled, strong shoulders lolling forward, eyes wide and glued on her, he wore an intense look on his face. The way he just stood there, not moving toward her, pulsing waves of emotion around him prompted her to rise from the couch. The distance suddenly felt wrong, discomfiting.
A flash of heat shot through her ear from pressing too hard. She lowered the towel to check for bleeding.
That broke through his stupor. He raced to her side and swung her into the cradle of his arms. “Jesus, Charlee. I’m sorry. I needed to work out a plan with Tony, amongst other things.” He hugged her face to his neck and, in a few strides, had her in the bathroom and sitting on the counter, back to the mirror.
His breathing was wild, and a measure of him flinched at the sight of her injuries, something only present in the twitch of his scowl. Still, watchful caution remained in his eyes.
“They’re just graze wounds.” She raised the towel to cover it.
“Don’t. I haven’t had a chance to look at them.” He wrapped firm but gentle fingers around her hand on the towel and lowered it. “Fuck, you need a doctor.”
“It’s fine. My eardrum isn’t ringing so bad and—”
“A fucking bullet cut through your ear.” He flew backward and slammed against the wall behind him as if to keep her distanced from his anger. He swiped a hand over his face, sucking in air and staring at her out of feral eyes. “Fuck, fuck.” He punched a fist backward and dented the sheetrock. “Fuck, I should’ve stopped it. I should’ve been there.”
“You were there. Calm the hell down. You’re not helping.”
More punching. More dents.
What was wrong with him? He s
eemed fine in the kitchen. Did she look that bad? She turned toward the mirror.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
‡
A small gouge separated the cartilage high on Charlee’s earlobe. Following the path of the bullet, a strip of skin the length of her thumb was flayed behind her ear at the hairline. It could’ve been worse. She’d survived worse. Although she wouldn’t be wearing earrings for a while, what bothered her was Jay’s reaction. Why was he punching the wall?
The bathroom wall propped up his back. His ready fists curled at his thighs, his head bowed, and his eyes were raised and clinging to hers.
Tanned skin smoothed his face, giving him a calm expression, but there was a restlessness in the way his eyes shifted between hers. She recognized that look from that morning, and it twisted her gut. “You’re high.”
Her words hung there between them until movement drew their attention outside the bathroom. Nathan stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jay.
Jay pushed off the wall and formed the other half of the deadlock with an identical stance. They bandied hostile looks, flexing their jaws and issuing so much testosterone the small room choked with it.
She sighed. “Nathan.”
The only thing Nathan moved was his lips. “He’s high.”
Protective till the end. “He’s harmless. Is there a plan? We need to leave, right?”
Nathan glanced at the dents in the wall. “Backup’s here. So are the cops.” He met her eyes.
“And we can’t trust them,” she said, softly, miserably.
Jay swung his head toward her. “Why not?”
“They’re probably on Roy’s payroll.” She chewed a fingernail. “The officers outside are probably here to ensure this ends according to Roy’s directive.”
“Roy’s directive? Fuck that.” Jay’s eyes blazed. “Do we know who these corrupt cops are? Why don’t we just call in different ones? He doesn’t own the entire NYPD.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” A tic bounced in Nathan’s jaw. “But officers protect each other. I can’t penetrate the blue code of silence with a couple of phone calls. It takes internal affairs and special investigations a long time to unearth who’s on the take and who isn’t. We’re on our own.” He raised his hand and stared at the screen on his phone. “The security team is sweeping the perimeter. Could take a while, but once we get the all clear, we move out. Be ready.” He and Jay shared another stare down, and he left the room.
Jay closed the door and turned to her, eyes on the floor.
Where was the battle glare now? “Jay?”
He looked up, the richness of his gorgeous brown eyes loaded with uncertainty. “I’m not high…at the moment, if that helps.” He rubbed his neck and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’m pretty much back to fucked up, angry, and vulnerable.”
A sudden influx of feelings for him welled up, filling her with a perverse sense of intoxication. His admission was the steel that made the man. He had no idea how courageous he was. “Everyone has vulnerabilities. A strong man isn’t afraid to show his.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, making his adorable dimple more pronounced. “I don’t like feeling this way, Charlee.” His body drew ever closer, and she realized she was doing the same.
“Putting your trust in someone is the most vulnerable thing you can do.” She placed her palms flat on the counter behind her and spread her knees in invitation to stand between them.
The shadow of Roy’s forceful hand coiled around her, inside her, strangling her. She shook it off and focused on the man before her. “Dare to be vulnerable with me.” Was the quake in her voice as noticeable as the trembling in her legs?
A vibration seemed to ripple over his body. She might’ve been relationship handicapped, but she knew what arousal looked like on a man. It was evident in his sharp gasp, the softening of his gaze as it lowered to the apex of her thighs, and the way he carried himself through his pelvis as if all energy and thought were concentrated there.
Desire resonated from him as he followed his hips into the triangle of hers, holding her eyes until their faces were close, so close his breath became hers and their lips brushed through their exhales.
Wedged between her legs, he smoothed his palms along her jeans from her knees to her thighs, around her waist, and hooked his fingers beneath her butt. Then he yanked her to the edge of the counter until the zipper of her jeans was flush with the strain behind his leathers.
It was hard to remember not to touch him as his lips fell over hers and his tongue caressed back and forth, taking over her mouth and stealing her breath. She tasted the familiarity growing between them and savored the potency of it.
His fingers grazed her jaw and he rolled his brow against hers, panting heavily as he caught her licks and deepened them with the flat of his tongue. Her own fingers were locked, curling against the countertop.
They came up for air, slowly, breathlessly, and smiling like fools. His body was rigid. Pulsating. Ready. And at that moment, it was all hers. She rubbed her chest against the chiseled wall of his, her nipples hardening through her t-shirt.
He groaned and floated a hand over her breast, holding her eyes in silent question.
The imploring way he looked at her and the caution that preceded his actions made him someone she wanted to place her confidence in. She dropped her head back on her shoulders and pushed her breast into his waiting hand.
He chased the swollen nub with his thumb, flicking and squeezing. Then he went after it with his mouth, swiping his tongue against the fabric and dampening it with his gasps.
The hard muscle embracing her produced a kind of tranquilizing effect. His arms supported her. The pillar of his body was her strength. Without lifting her hands from the vanity, she loosened her limbs and let her butt slip off the edge and into the waiting cradle of his rocking hips. The sculpted surface of his stomach contracted against her, invading her headspace and simmering heat in her pussy.
Too soon, he raised his mouth from her breast and nipped at her chin with a grin on his beautiful face. He brushed her hair from her ear with a gentle hand and checked her wounds. Satisfied, he moved to her lips, tracing them with a finger, watching her steadily. “You build me up and turn me inside out. I’ve never felt so defenseless and yet…so daring at the same time.”
Wasn’t that what intimacy felt like? She smiled, her skin hot and flushed. “Mission accomplished.”
He curved his upper body around her with his hands on her hips, seemingly oblivious to how desperately she wanted to hug him back. His voice whispered over her cheek. “You said everyone has vulnerabilities. What’s yours?”
Slick with sweat, her hands slipped on the counter behind her. She adjusted her grip and straightened to sit. If she were going to trust him, she needed to do it in the most important way. “Do you know what happens when you open up?” She looked pointedly at her legs, spread around his.
A smile danced on his lips. “You get laid?”
She snorted. “If you’re lucky.” She placed her lips against his, held them there for a long moment, drinking in the spice of his breath. Then she leaned back to look in his eyes. “There was a time when I wouldn’t have willingly sat like this with an aroused man between my legs.”
His body turned to stone, and hers hardened in kind. His nostrils flared, but she pushed on. “I’ve been raped sixteen times in this position.”
The hands on her hips curled into fists. He closed his eyes, and his chest rose and fell through rapid breath. His body shook against hers. Was he going to explode? He looked like he might puke.
“Hey.” She squeezed his hips with her thighs. “Don’t shut me out. If I can’t talk to you, this stops. We stop.” She wanted him to have access to the place inside her she never showed Noah. A mistake she wouldn’t make again.
He opened his eyes, and they were haunted and cloudy. He dropped his forehead to hers, and she could feel the tension sparking from hi
s body. “Sixteen times?” A whisper.
“I stopped counting after that.” The truth was empowering. It opened her chest and released the toxin. It also exposed her heart. Maybe Jay would crawl in and rip it to shreds. Or maybe he would fill in the cracks. “When I learned how to open up, do you know what happened?”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. “It made you incredibly fucking strong.”
She smiled and kissed the soft skin below his jaw. “It made me strong enough to enjoy the feel of you between my legs.”
His shuddering breath bathed her in warmth. He kissed her neck, nuzzled it, and kissed it again. “Please don’t run off on me.”
She cringed. “Your sunglasses are in my bag. I’m not sorry about that. You know why I did it.”
“Yeah, Charlee.” He straightened, rubbing his hands along her spine, fingers circling her back. “It was brave and…romantic.” His eyes glimmered. Then they turned to brownstone. “And it nearly cost you your life. Until we bury Roy Oxford, you’ll be wearing a bodyguard.”
Until we buried Roy. The we sounded dreamy and …brash. But his hell-bent expression dissuaded her from arguing. She wasn’t sure the bathroom wall would survive another Jay Mayard tantrum. “Shouldn’t your security team be done sweeping?”
“They’ll turn over every stone within a ten block radius before they let us out of here.” He kissed her lips and explored her face, her neck, her shoulders with his mouth and hands. Her fingers tingled to touch him back.
“Can I put my hands on you?” she whispered when he returned to her lips.
A struggle of emotions swirled in his eyes and tightened the muscles in his cheeks. Maybe she was pushing, but pushing was what he needed.
His flawless complexion glowed beneath the loose strands of his dark brown hair. After a few thudding heart beats, his deliberation settled into smooth skin and a soft gaze. “Hold your hands up, palms facing you.”
She remembered how strong the angles of his jaw felt beneath her fingers the previous night as she held up the backs of her hands. “I touched your face last night when you were sleeping.”
Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Page 127
