Forged in Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  He paused and then added, “A man was there with her. He got on the phone and told me not to call her back.”

  “You need to do something, man.”

  “Do what?”

  “Teach her a lesson for using you. Having her new boyfriend tell you off like that wasn’t right. Do you want me to go take care of them for you?”

  Scott knew Freddie didn’t do anything without a purpose. “What’s in it for you?”

  “For starters, I plan to get my hundred thousand dollars back. She forced me to empty my damn savings account. Now I don’t have a job and I’m barely getting by. She owes me.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. Although he was pretty damn angry with Margo right now, he refused to let Freddie talk him into doing anything he would regret later. “Get over it, Freddie. You fucked up with those snakes, and Margo wasn’t responsible for you getting laid off at the bank.”

  “I won’t get over it. Your ex-girlfriend is loaded and she played your ass. If you don’t plan on doing anything about it, then that’s your business. But I intend to get my money back. Every single cent.”

  He hoped Freddie was talking crap, but he had a feeling he wasn’t. “Settle down, Freddie, or you’ll get yourself in even more trouble than before. Let it go, man.”

  “I won’t let it go. You shouldn’t either. What we should do is kidnap her and make that rich uncle of hers pay to get her back.”

  Kidnap Margo? He hoped like hell that Freddie wasn’t serious. Unlike Freddie, who was out of work and down on his luck, Scott did have a job—a good, paying one that he intended to keep.

  “Meet me at Gritty’s for breakfast so we can discuss it.” He would try talking Freddie out of the crazy idea of kidnapping Margo. Kidnapping was a federal offense, which meant real jail time. No way would he be a part of anything so stupid.

  * * *

  STRIKER MOVED AROUND the room, pulling clean clothes out of his duffel bag while trying not to listen to the sound of Margo in the next room. She was humming, of all things. At least one of them was in a good mood.

  He’d lied about needing to make some calls. There was no way he would step into a shower with her. He could guess what would happen. For the past week he’d lain in bed, listening to her shower and thinking of all the things he would do to her if given the chance to ever share the stall with her.

  Removing his Beretta and placing it on the nightstand, he then called Stonewall. His friend answered on the first ring.

  “What’s going on, Striker?”

  “I’m about to shower. Keep an eye on the outside, will you.”

  “I always do.”

  After clicking off the phone with Stonewall, he went about removing his clothes. He was about to head for the shower adjacent to the guest room when he heard the sound of Margo’s voice. She was no longer humming but was talking. Had she called someone? She knew the rules. No outside contact without his knowledge. Had she called Scott after she’d all but sworn she was through with the man?

  He stilled to listen carefully to the sound coming through the speaker Bruce had installed and realized she was speaking directly to him.

  “Striker, just in case you missed all I said the first time, I am repeating myself. I’m not sure if you were being truthful when you said you could hear everything going on in this room, but if you were, then listen to this. I want you again. I want to take a shower with you. I want to taste you all over like you tasted me last night. I want to make sure you like it as much as I do. If you don’t take me up on this invite, I’ll assume you just lied about being able to hear me.”

  Blood rushed like crazy through Striker’s entire body and then settled in his groin. He didn’t blink. Could barely breathe. He stood there, unable to move. The only thing moving was his erection. It was expanding like nobody’s business. Oh, shit. Where was his willpower when he needed it most?

  He needed to fight his desire. He had to. But, dammit, the thought of a naked Margo in the shower waiting on him was too much. And she wanted to taste him all over...

  He drew in a sharp breath, grabbed a towel and walked toward his bathroom. Inside, he glanced at himself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at him was of a man who’d made love to a woman last night and who still wanted more. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could inhale her scent, probably because it was still on him. He’d brushed his teeth yet he could still taste her on his tongue. And it was a tongue that wanted to taste her again.

  Crap! He turned and, before he could talk himself out of what he was doing, called Quasar.

  “What’s up, Striker?”

  “Make that two hours on breakfast.”

  Not waiting to hear what Quasar had to say, he clicked off the phone. Grabbing a couple of condoms, he headed straight for Margo.

  * * *

  STONEWALL HAD PICKED UP his coffee cup to take another sip when his office door opened and Roland walked in. Stonewall’s eyes widened and he stood. “What the hell are you doing here instead of recuperating somewhere?”

  Roland waved off his words as he settled in the chair across from the huge desk. “I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and he said I’m fine.”

  Stonewall frowned. “But I bet he didn’t say you could return to work yet.”

  Roland leaned comfortably back in the chair. “And I haven’t returned. Just dropped by to check on things.”

  Stonewall nodded, knowing it was more than that. “We’ve been busy. Everyone wants protection, even people who weren’t anywhere near the courthouse that day. Craziness happening.”

  Roland nodded. “How’s Striker?”

  “Fine,” Stonewall said, sitting back down. There was no way he would tell Roland what he and Quasar suspected about how Striker was really doing. So he asked, “How did you get off Sutton Hills without Carson’s approval?” After Carson helped clear Roland’s name, Roland and Carson had remained good friends, and when Carson married Sheppard Granger last year, Roland was pretty much adopted into the Granger family like the rest of them.

  “Wasn’t easy,” Roland replied. “Carson drove me in to the doctors and Shep followed. I suspected the doctor would give me back driving rights and I would need my car.”

  “And I’m sure the doctor expected you to leave his office and go straight home, Roland.”

  “This is home for me, Stonewall.”

  Stonewall knew that to be true. Roland pretty much stayed here 24/7, even though he had an apartment a few miles away. Roland had a room with a cot for any of his men who needed power naps between jobs, and all of them were well aware that Roland used it as much as they did.

  “You don’t think I can handle things here?” Stonewall asked.

  Roland chuckled. “You know that’s the last thing I think. I trained you all well. It’s just that I was wondering how Striker was doing with Margo.”

  “You could have picked up a phone and called to ask, Roland. Need I remind you that you took a bullet less than a month ago?”

  “No, you don’t have to remind me.”

  “The police still haven’t caught the dude who tried to hijack your car?” Stonewall asked.

  “No, and with so much other stuff on their plates, they aren’t looking. They have a much bigger fish to catch.”

  At that moment Quasar stuck his head in the door. “I’m about to leave to—”

  When he saw Roland, Quasar frowned. “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting.”

  “Well, visit somewhere else. Shouldn’t you be home recuperating?” Quasar asked him.

  “I am home.”

  Quasar’s frown deepened. “You know what I mean. You’re supposed to be at Sutton Hills, where Hannah can keep an eye on you.” Hannah was the Grangers’ housekeeper and cook.

  Roland laugh
ed. “Hannah wants to fatten me up. She’s always cooking. A man can get spoiled.”

  “Then go back and let her spoil you. We got things here,” Quasar said.

  “I can see that. So where are you headed?”

  Quasar came into the room and shoved his hands into his pockets. “To deliver breakfast to Striker and Ms. Connelly.”

  Roland checked his watch. “Kind of late for breakfast, isn’t it?”

  Quasar tried keeping a straight face as he shrugged and lied through his teeth. “I was running late. They understood and said they weren’t all that hungry.” He decided not to glance over at Stonewall, who’d probably figured out why he’d fibbed.

  Roland stood. “I’ll follow you over there.”

  “Over where?”

  “To take Striker and Margo their breakfast.”

  Now Quasar did give Stonewall a look that clearly said, I don’t think that’s a good idea. He knew Stonewall understood when Stonewall said to Roland, “You don’t need to follow anyone anywhere. I think you should go back to Sutton Hills and get some rest.”

  “I told you I’m fine, Stonewall, so don’t treat me like some damn invalid. The doctor said I can drive and I’m driving.”

  Knowing there was no way they could talk Roland out of following him to Ms. Connelly’s house without making Roland suspicious, Quasar said, “Fine. I’m ready to go.”

  To Stonewall he said, “Call Striker and let him know breakfast is about to be delivered.”

  Stonewall nodded. “Trust me, I will.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  MARGO OBVIOUSLY HAD guessed wrong about her bedroom being bugged. It was probably a good thing considering that flirty invitation she’d issued. When had she ever been bold when it came to a man? Never. And what about her resolve to keep things casual with men? But this wasn’t getting serious. It was about having a little fun, and right now she felt the need to let loose a little, especially after such a passionate night with Striker.

  As she opened the shower door and stepped inside the stall, vivid scenes of them making love last night began playing in her head. She regretted that the shower would wash away his scent—a scent that seemed to be entrenched in her skin.

  She closed her eyes as memories continued to trickle through her mind the same way the spray of warm water was trickling over her body. She could clearly recall Striker on his knees with his head buried between her legs. And then there was the first time he’d eased himself inside of her. And he’d gone deep.

  Margo was convinced it had been deeper than any man had ever gone. Had a year without sex done this to her? Brought her to this state? Made her a ball of wanton desire? No, it didn’t have anything to do with abstinence but everything to do with Striker. The man was all alpha, all male and blatantly sexy.

  She could tell from his attitude this morning that he’d expected her to have some regrets about last night and maybe she should. But she would have to be totally honest and admit she didn’t. She had wanted him and he had wanted her. The big question now was what would happen next.

  Striker didn’t come across as someone who made irrational decisions, but she had a feeling he could overthink a situation. Although he had shared some things about himself, she knew there was a part of him that he was keeping off-limits. She didn’t want to continue to pry, but there was so much about him that she wanted to know.

  She decided not to dwell on what she still didn’t know about Striker and concentrate on all those things she did. First up was just what an expert lover he was. The man had given her an orgasm not once but numerous times, and he’d moved inside of her in a way that made her want their bodies to stay connected forever.

  Forever?

  What kind of crazy thought was that? All she knew was that for a while last night, she had refused to remember Striker’s purpose in her life and that a murderer was still out there somewhere. She had needed that time with him for some reason.

  She jerked around and gasped when she heard the shower door open. There Striker stood. Completely naked. Totally aroused. “I accept your invitation, Margo,” he said in a deep, husky voice.

  She wiped water from her face to make sure she was actually seeing him. That he was really there. “So you’ve been spying on me?” she asked incredulously, finding it hard to ignite much anger when a totally masculine and very aroused naked man was sharing the shower stall with her.

  “Not spying but protecting. I couldn’t go to sleep at night if I didn’t. I need to make sure you’re safe at all times.”

  The thought that he’d been privy to her every sound and movement gave her pause, but it didn’t keep her gaze from roaming all over him. All those firm muscles, perfect abs, broad, muscular shoulders, flat and hard stomach. And then there was that monstrosity of an erection between his legs. Large and jutting proudly from a dark thatch of curls. It was already sheathed, making it quite obvious Striker had come prepared to protect her in another way.

  Even with the condom covering his shaft, she could see the thick veins running along the sides of it. And she could vividly recall all that solid thickness stretching her last night. Thrusting in and out while embedded deep within her.

  “Ready to shower?”

  His words made her swallow. She had a feeling that they would be doing more than showering. “Yes.”

  “Then pass me the soap. I want to lather you.”

  He wanted to lather her? It was bad enough whenever their hands touched. The thought of those same hands moving all over her body—like they’d done last night—had heat settling between her legs.

  “Margo?”

  “Um?”

  “The soap.”

  For a minute there she’d gotten lost in his heated gaze. Her eyes left his face to once again travel lower. The man was so well-endowed that her senses were beginning to unravel. They had gotten unstitched last night and she hadn’t recovered. Now she doubted that she ever could.

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed the bar of soap and handed it to him. Their hands touched and her body began shuddering. And that was when he made his move. He wrapped his arms around her as water streamed down on both of them.

  “You’re trembling, Margo,” he whispered hotly against her ear, before licking it on the side.

  That wasn’t all she was doing, she thought. The man could touch her and she would go up in flames...even while standing under water. Then she felt his hands all over her, felt the soapy caresses move over her back, her buttocks and shoulders while blood pounded furiously through her body.

  Then he took a step back to start on her front, first by spreading a warm lather over her chest. The moment his hands began stroking her breasts, using his fingertips to tease her nipples, she moaned. She was finding out that Striker knew how to take the word steamy to a whole new level. He had the ability to stir a sexual need inside of her she hadn’t known existed until now.

  When his hand moved lower and began lathering her stomach, an intense ache began curling between her legs. She felt her heart kick up several beats and found it almost hard to breathe. Had anyone told her lust could fuel desire to this extreme, she would not have believed them.

  He was staring at her, with those dark, penetrating eyes, as if he wanted her to feel his own need in his every touch. He wanted her to know his own desire was driving what he was doing, Margo got that. She felt it.

  And when he dipped his hand lower between her legs, she almost shot out of her wet skin. He had opened his fingers and was using them to spread her before inserting one inside. Her head dropped to his shoulder when he began rotating that finger inside of her, making every bone in her body tremble.

  “Striker...”

  He whispered in her ear, “I’m going to lift you up, and when I do, wrap your legs around me, Margo.”

  Effortlessly
he lifted her off her feet and, as he’d told her to do, she wrapped her legs around him, nearly screaming in pleasure when she felt the hardness of his erection slide into her. He was supporting her backside with his hands and stepped away from the spray of water to the shower wall. She felt the cold tile at her back, but what really had her attention was Striker and how he’d begun thrusting in and out of her hard. She couldn’t help but moan.

  His mouth captured hers, the play of his tongue silencing her. He was deliberately going slowly around her mouth, licking and sucking areas with skill that made her want him even more than she already did. To retaliate, she clamped her feminine muscles around him and began squeezing, milking him until he was the one moaning. She had no problems showing Striker that two could play his game.

  He jerked his mouth away and stared at her, holding her gaze as his thrusts increased, went deeper, pounded harder and pushed her beyond physical satisfaction of the most intense kind.

  “It’s crazy, but I can’t get enough of you,” Striker said huskily, showing her exactly what he meant with each and every thrust.

  Margo knew this was crazy, but at the moment it was necessary. When had a man making love to her become so crucial? And then he threw his head back and released a growl unlike anything she’d ever heard. But she felt it, all the way to the bone. Was she imagining things or had his erection just expanded inside of her? It made her feel so full of him. And that was when she lost it.

  She screamed when an orgasm struck her, and she began trembling so much he had to tighten his hold on her. Omigod. This was unreal. She’d thought last night was pretty damn amazing, but today, right now in this shower, with her back against the wall and Striker relentlessly pounding into her, was definitely off the charts.

  Margo screamed again, and in seconds Striker’s mouth was there, taking hers, using his tongue to again kiss her in ways she hadn’t known a woman could be kissed. She felt them moving as he edged them over to the spray of water. He slowly eased out of her and slid her body down his tall, hard frame, all while their mouths remained connected. If they were going to drown then, this was the best way to go.