by Mandy Baxter
Harper peeked through the curtains and down at the parking lot. Back home, the night would be dark and impenetrable, the only light coming from the stars and the moon. But here, the artificial glow of the streetlights and the illuminated city beyond cast a permanent glow that blocked out nature’s own soft glow. Harper swallowed down the knot that formed in her throat. A call to her parents to assure them that she was okay was all the Marshals Service had allowed. After that, she’d been instructed not to contact them. It was for their safety, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow. Maybe, if she managed to get through this in one piece, she’d ask Sam for a little vacation time to go home and decompress.
The hotel was relatively unoccupied, but you’d never know it from the number of cars in the parking lot. Any idiot could tell that the black, unmarked vehicles were government issue. Apparently now that Harper had been shot at, they didn’t give a shit about being blatant. It made her uncomfortable to think that so many people were giving up their time and resources to keep an eye on her. She wasn’t anyone important, and despite what Ellis’s murderer thought, she hadn’t managed to uncover any of the senator’s deep, dark secrets.
She tugged the curtains shut and dug through the duffel bag Peggy had brought, pulling out a pair of cotton sleep shorts and a tank top. Was Senator Ellis’s wife getting the same level of protection that she was? Were his kids okay, or did they have trouble sleeping because they were afraid of what might happen to them? And by holding on to that damned flash drive for so long, was she prolonging their ordeal?
Harper flopped down on the bed, her stomach churning with anxiety. Galen was right. She’d been stupid, selfish, and immature, not to mention stubborn. She owed him, everyone else at the Marshals Service, and unfortunately Agent Davis several apologies. Galen had said she wasn’t Superwoman and that was a fact that she needed to come to terms with. She couldn’t do everything. Solve every puzzle. Unravel every mystery. It was okay to ask for help and it didn’t mean she was weak, or lazy, or incapable. The FBI needed everything she had on Ellis if they were going to wrap this situation up once and for all, and she was going to hand it all over. This had to end, not only for her own sanity but for Mark Ellis’s family, too.
She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. Turning everything she had over to the FBI would lift a tremendous weight from her shoulders, but she knew it wouldn’t really lighten her load. What pressed down on her, stole the breath from her lungs, was the knowledge that she’d risked Galen’s life today. He could have died and she’d have never heard his voice again. They’d never again argue over who the best superhero was. Share another grilled cheese. She wouldn’t feel the warmth of his smile. Be amused by his stern frown. She thought back to this afternoon and her body flushed as she recalled the heat of his mouth on her skin. His hands, cupping her breasts. The thrust of his hips and pleasure that had exploded within her as he’d claimed her.
Even now, her body ached for him.
A key card clicked in the lock. Harper’s eyes flew open as the door to her room swung wide and she shot up off the bed as Galen stormed into the room, a small plastic bag clutched in his fist. He flung it to one of the bedside tables and Harper flinched, her heart hammering in her chest. “Galen, I—”
He rushed at her, cupping the back of her neck in his palm and his mouth descended on hers in a crushing kiss that left her breathless. Harper’s head spun. She should stop this. There was still a lot they needed to hash out. She wanted to apologize but as his tongue flicked out at the seam of her lips, logic took a permanent vacation from Harper’s mind. Her arms acted of their own accord, wrapping around Galen’s neck, and she slanted her mouth across his, deepening the kiss as she pulled him closer.
“Damn it, Harper, I can’t be away from you for even an hour without going out of my fucking mind,” he said against her mouth. “How am I supposed to do my job when all I can think about is getting back to you?”
Her head fell back as Galen’s mouth wandered, from the corner of her lips, across her jaw, to her throat. His mouth was a brand on her skin and he nipped at her tender flesh, sending goose bumps chasing across her skin.
“I don’t want to fight.” His hands slid down her back, his fingertips pressing into her spine. Harper arched into him and he groaned against her throat. “We’ve lost too much time already, and I refuse to let one more minute go to waste.” His tongue dipped to the hollow of her throat as he found the hem of her shirt. When his fingers brushed her bare skin, Harper shuddered. As though he’d reached the limit of his restraint, Galen dragged the tank up the length of her torso and over her head. Harper’s heart skittered in her chest and she realized she might not take a deep breath ever again. Galen straightened and his eyes met hers. His gaze didn’t waver, boring into her as he reached around and unhooked the clasp of her bra, yanking the straps over her shoulders. “I could have lost you today, Harper, and the thought of never seeing you again scares the shit out of me.”
Was it desperation that had Harper tearing at Galen’s clothes, her fingers flying over the buttons of his shirt? Absolutely. She was desperate to shed every last scrap of clothing from his body, possessed with a need to have him inside of her. God, she was going to explode right out of her skin. The urgency of their actions, the frenzied groping of hands as they stripped each other bare, and their greedy mouths seeking any inch of exposed flesh became all-consuming. There was no thought, no words. Just her and him and raw, primal desire.
A rush of slick heat spread between Harper’s thighs and a low moan escaped her lips as Galen thrust his hand between them, capturing her sex in his palm as he worked his fingers over her swollen bud. His mouth wandered down her throat, over the swell of her breasts, and he caught one taut nipple between his teeth, nibbling lightly before taking it fully into his mouth.
Oh . . . God . . . remembering to take a breath was almost too much effort at this point. Harper threaded her fingers through Galen’s hair and guided his mouth back to hers. He kissed her with a fierceness that had her clawing at his back, holding him as close to her as she could. They stumbled backward and the mattress caught their fall. Galen thrust his tongue into Harper’s mouth, a sensual rhythmic motion that made her yearn to have him inside of her. She reached for his erection and his head bucked back as he sucked in a sharp breath. Harper closed her fist around his thick shaft and stroked. He was steel encased in satin, and she reveled in the feel of him, the way he rocked into her hand and the low near-growl that built up in his throat.
“I’ve got to have you, Harper. Right now.”
“Yes.” Her brain could barely push the one word past her lips. It was more like an incoherent hiss, need and desire manifested in a single sound.
He reached for the bedside table and pulled a box of condoms out of the plastic bag he’d brought in with him. She gave a little laugh. “Where did you get those?”
Galen ripped into the box and tore into one of the foil packets. “Hotel store,” he said with an impatient smile that made her brain go fuzzy. “It goes against my training to be reckless.”
Harper’s throaty laughter rippled over him. “Thank God for training.”
His expression grew heated once again and his eyes locked with hers as he entered her. Harper gasped as he filled her completely, each roll of his hips sending a jolt of pleasure through her body that had her panting and wanting more. This was a new side to Galen. He’d been gentle with her before, slow and tender. But now his passion was unrivaled to anything they’d shared yet. And Harper couldn’t get enough.
Galen’s entire body burned with want. It overtook him, clouded his thoughts, and drove him to a place that he’d never been before. Fighting with Harper stirred his blood, and walking out on her had only intensified his need, as though the brief separation was more than he could bear. All he could think about was getting back to her. Undressing her. And fucking her until he worked whatever this desperate feeling was out of his system.
She felt so damne
d good.
Galen couldn’t take her hard enough. Couldn’t thrust deep enough to satisfy the lust that ignited every last particle of his body. And Harper matched his fervor. Her fingernails dug deliciously into his ass as she urged him on, her hips rolling up to meet his as though she couldn’t get enough. She arched into him, exposing the delicate lines of her throat, and he nipped at the flesh near the junction of her shoulder as he buried himself as far as he could go, her tight heat constricting against his shaft.
“Oh, shit, Harper,” he murmured against her skin. Her scent drove him mad, her sweet mewling sounds hardening his cock to the point of near pain. Galen pulled out, and stroked his shaft through the softness of her swollen lips, against Harper’s clit and she bucked against him, a desperate cry exploding from her lips. He covered her mouth with his to keep her quiet—there were too many listening ears of law enforcement on their floor—and swallowed those sweet sounds as he thrust home and kissed her deeply.
Again he pulled out, teasing her, and her hands came up to grip his shoulders as she pulled herself up to meet him. “I’m close, Galen,” she said next to his ear. “Don’t stop.”
Any restraint he might have thought he had dissolved under those five pleading words. His pace increased as he fucked into her and she dug her heels into the backs of his thighs, her back bowing off the mattress. “Come for me, Harper.” His own voice was nothing more than a ragged growl. “Come for me.”
Her arms flew back and she balled the tangle of sheets behind her in tight fists. Her inner walls clenched around his cock, so tight that it forced a deep, tortured moan from his throat. Harper’s hips bucked into his and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out.
Screw that.
Galen bent over her, driving deeper as her orgasm rocked through her body and into his. He cradled her head in his palm and kissed her as she came, every muffled, desperate moan vibrating through his body and stealing his breath. His own release was immediate and intense, and Galen threw his head back and gnashed his teeth together as he drove into Harper again and again until he had no more to give and collapsed on top of her.
There wasn’t a single moment in his entire life that could rival what he felt right here, right now with her.
An emptiness opened up inside of Harper when Galen withdrew from her body. She wasn’t ready to part from him. Not yet. That feeling of being whole, the connection that had fused them together, was the most powerful thing she’d ever felt in her life. She’d never made love to anyone with such a desperate intensity before. In fact, she’d never made love to anyone before Galen. Ever. Her chest swelled with emotion, and her mouth became much too dry. She loved Galen. God, she loved him so much it was a physical thing, grabbing hold of her body as it wound itself into her very DNA.
He gathered her up in his arms, and she rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes as she focused on the steady rhythm of his heart. Had they fought earlier? She could barely remember. The events of the afternoon paled and faded into the backdrop as her fingers circled one nipple, and moved down the swell of his pec, to the hard ridges of his abs and the crisp trail of hair that led from his belly button.
He sucked in a breath as her fingers teased his lower abdomen, and a sleepy smile curved her lips. “Galen, I’m so sorry about today.” Her voice was thick and lazy as she continued to map his body with her fingertips. “I wasn’t trying to keep secrets. From anyone. I just thought if I could—”
“Harper.” Galen shifted so he lay on his side and guided her chin up to look at him. “You are so damned stubborn, it drives me crazy. But the thought of losing you today was so much worse than any anger I felt over what information you might or might not be withholding. There isn’t anything that can’t be fixed once you ask for help. Are you through going this alone? Are you ready for me to help you?”
She had been ready days ago.
“I want this to be over,” she said. “I really don’t have anything, though. Nothing helpful, anyway. Just a bunch of journal entries that the senator slipped into my bag before he died. I didn’t even know I had the flash drive until Davis called me in for my second interview and so far, I haven’t read anything that’s incriminating. But”—and this was tough for her to admit—“maybe I’m not smart enough to know what to look for.”
Galen’s soft laughter rumbled in his chest. “You’re plenty smart, Harper. We’re just trained to look for things that you might think are inconsequential.” She let his voice lull her and she felt comfort in the sense of partnership his words brought to her. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. We’ll find Ellis’s killer and you’ll be safe. I promise.”
A quiet moment passed and Harper’s eyes drifted shut once again as she reveled in the sensation of Galen’s fingers dancing over her flesh. Their caresses were featherlight, their hands exploring one another’s bodies, and the only sound in the room was their mingling breath. Galen rolled his hips into hers, and Harper flushed with warmth as his erection brushed between her thighs. She opened up to him, and he dipped his fingers where his cock had been and hissed in a breath when he met her slick center. She was just as ready to have him again as he was to have her.
“You’re not running off to Paris any time soon, are you?” The sudden thought that he might leave her once this was all over filled Harper with dread. Would the SOG team call him away again once this was all over? Maybe he’d be gone for longer than a year next time. She couldn’t lose him again. It would wreck her.
“You’re in my blood, Harper.” Galen lowered his head to hers and kissed her. The barest glance of lip to lip. “If I go anywhere ever again, I’ll be taking you with me.”
“I’m in your blood?” Harper teased his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. “Like a disease?”
Galen flashed her a smile that made her bones go soft. “No. More like the spider venom that turned Peter Parker into Spider-Man. Powerful like that.”
Harper rolled Galen onto his back and straddled his hips. He let out a low moan as she lifted her hips, brushing her core against the stiff length of his erection. “I think that might be the sexiest thing any man has ever said to me,” she replied as she reached for the nightstand and the tiny cardboard box.
Galen reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands, and Harper’s head lolled back on her shoulders as he said in a husky tone, “You haven’t heard anything yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Harper stared up at the ceiling, the only sound in the room that of Galen’s deep, even breaths. His arm was slung across her stomach, his palm wrapped around her waist as though afraid she might escape. She smiled into the darkness. In the past year, they’d both demonstrated they could be runners, but she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Their second round of lovemaking had been better than the first, and she still couldn’t believe such a feat was possible. Whereas the sex had been urgent before—the purging of need that built to a fervor—this last encounter reminded Harper of their first night together. He’d let her be in control at first, but then turned the tables on her, teasing and tempting Harper with his hands, lips, teeth, and tongue, driving her to the edge only to pull back until she begged him to take her. After tonight, she doubted she’d ever get enough of Galen.
He was in her blood, too.
The sun would be up in a few hours, and Harper thought of how they’d have to pretend that they were nothing more than acquaintances thrown together in this crazy situation. Would Galen sneak back into his adjoining room so Peggy or Curt or any of the other marshals wouldn’t be suspicious? If any of them had ears on their heads, they would have heard her cries of passion. Galen had done his best to keep her quiet, but he’d driven her to the point that logical thought—not to mention discretion—meant very little to her. Harper Allen: keepin’ it classy at the Comfort Inn.
Galen didn’t like lying. Or liars. And by keeping secrets, she was helping him become something he despised. Harper wasn’t okay with that. But maybe there was somethi
ng she could do about it. Careful not to disturb him, she slid from under his embrace and out of bed, wrapping the coverlet around her body. On the small particleboard desk sat her purse and her laptop. She flipped on the desk lamp and turned on her computer while she dug through her purse for Senator Ellis’s flash drive. As she waded through the junk, Harper considered the fact that she really ought to clean her bag out. Or downsize. Probably both.
By the time her computer booted up, she found the thin silver drive. She slid it into the USB port and opened the little folder icon on her desktop. The fact that someone had tried to turn her into Swiss cheese not twelve hours ago was all the reassurance she needed that something damning was hidden in the senator’s files. And whoever had shot at her knew Ellis had given her all the ammunition she needed. Galen said they were trained to see things that she might find inconsequential. Maybe she simply needed to look for evidence in Ellis’s files by starting with the least obvious choices.
She double-clicked on Ellis’s journal entries and scrolled through the document to where she’d quit reading a couple of days ago. What she found was more of the same vague, guilt-ridden confessions without any clue as to what big secret was eating Ellis up inside. Would it have killed him to be a little more transparent? Wow, stupid question, Harp.
Skimming over the paragraphs and endless sentences, Harper looked out for any key words to jump out at her. Scandal. Crime. Jail. Secret. Lie. Hell, she’d settle for something small, like shoplifting at this point. A sentence caught her eye and Harper went back to the tiny entry standing alone on its own line:
I’ve decided to open Pandora’s box. Let the chips fall where they may. My conscience is clear.
Pandora . . .
Harper backed out of the senator’s journals to the main file directory. There was an icon named Pandora, but Harper had overlooked it as a possible playlist or something. She hadn’t really thought to venture past the senator’s personal journals for information. Way to flex those investigative muscles, Harp. She double-clicked the file and a window popped up identifying the file as protected. Enter password. The cursor blinked at Harper and she stared at the screen, frustration roiling in her stomach.
