Forged in Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  “Then meet me somewhere so I can give you your own personal copy. Once you view it, you’ll have twenty-four hours to contact me to make a deal. If it’s something you don’t want exposed to millions, then be ready to pay me off.”

  “That’s extortion!”

  “Call it whatever you like. Meet me today. And, remember, if Scott tells me you called him, then all talks are off. Besides, Scott is pretty pissed with you, which is why he gave me the sex tape. All this time he thought you were a struggling seamstress. Imagine his shock when I told him you’re loaded. You used him.”

  “I didn’t use him.”

  “You forced us to give our hard-earned money to some damn charity.”

  “You didn’t have to accept the deal. Both of you could have gone to jail.”

  He snorted. “Just because of a joke I played on you? Look, I’m through talking. If you don’t want me to put this sex tape on the internet, I suggest you meet me today.”

  Margo held Striker’s gaze as he mouthed the words stall him. She nodded. “We can’t meet you today. I’m not in town now.”

  “Too bad. I would suggest you make your way back to Charlottesville. I will call you in four hours with the location.”

  “But what if I can’t get back to Charlottesville by then?”

  “Then that will be pretty damn unfortunate. Like I said, I will call you back. If you report this conversation to anyone, then be prepared for the consequences.”

  Freddie hung up.

  Margo clicked off her phone, and for the longest time, she just sat there. Shocked. Did Scott actually make a tape of one of their lovemaking sessions? A part of her wanted to believe that Freddie was lying. But what if he wasn’t?

  “Margo?”

  She blinked and met Striker’s gaze. There was nothing judgmental in the eyes staring back at her, and she appreciated that. If Scott had made a sex tape and given it to Freddie, she didn’t want to think of the possible consequences. “Yes?”

  “If given the chance, I plan to kick Freddie’s ass right along with Scott’s.”

  His words, filled with anger, conveyed his support, and at that moment she needed it. She felt like such an idiot for even getting mixed up with Scott.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “Personally, I don’t believe Freddie has anything. I think he’s merely trying to play you. Get some money off you.”

  Even while her life seemed to be falling apart, she still felt desire with Striker’s touch. “But what if he does have a tape? He offered to let me view it before I pay anything.”

  “I think he did it just to be convincing. It’s just bait to get to you.”

  Striker’s words gave her some hope and were filled with such understanding and support that a part of her wished she could curl up in his lap, lay her head on his shoulder and have a good cry. “But how can we do anything when I’m in hiding, Striker?”

  A wicked grin stretched across Striker’s lips as he ran his thumbs across her knuckles. “Just leave that up to me, Margo.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  THAT NIGHT MARGO lay in bed beneath the covers, trying to put that phone call from Freddie Siskin out of her mind. It bothered her whenever she thought that Scott could stoop so low as to make a sex tape of them. More than anything, she appreciated Striker for taking control of the situation. His plan was truly ingenious, and she couldn’t wait for it to unfold.

  Striker, determined to help her relax, had suggested that they have a picnic for lunch and spend some time outside by the lake. It was one of those rare days in February when the sun had come out. While he packed up the food for their meal in a basket, she’d gathered the blankets.

  Freddie’s call could easily have ruined the entire day, but Striker had made sure it didn’t. While sitting on the blankets they’d spread on the ground, they’d made easy conversation, and she managed to relax.

  Hours later, when they’d returned to the cabin, he watched a basketball game on television while she prepared a dinner that consisted of pork chops and gravy, wild rice, green beans, corn on the cob and iced tea. He’d told her a number of times that he had enjoyed it. After they had worked together and cleaned up the kitchen, she had gone upstairs to shower while he checked around and locked up for the night.

  She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, and more than anything, she wanted to be held in his arms tonight.

  He leaned in the doorway for a minute and stared across the room at the bed and her in it. For the longest time, their gazes held and he didn’t say anything. Deciding to break the silence, she asked, “Everything looks okay?”

  He nodded, pushed away from the doorway and came into the room. “Yes.”

  She watched as he took off his gun and shoulder holster and then slowly crossed the room to place both on the nightstand. As usual, seeing them was a stark reminder of the danger she was in. The assassin was still out there, and until he was captured, her life remained in turmoil.

  “I got a call from Stonewall.”

  “Any new developments?”

  “Nothing new regarding the Erickson case. But Stonewall has been in contact with Detective Ingram, and a sting for Freddie has been set up. Hopefully by this time tomorrow it will all be over.”

  Margo hoped so. More than once today she had been tempted to call Scott, but she knew doing so would ruin everything. Striker had asked her to trust him enough to let him handle things and she would. More than anything, she appreciated how he’d taken charge and known whom to contact. He’d reassured her that everything would be alright. And now, thanks to Striker, Freddie would be walking into a sting operation the police had been brought in on. Whether he knew it or not, he was more than a protector to her. He’d become her hero.

  “I need to shower,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Alright.” He headed for the bathroom. That gave her hope they would be sharing a bed.

  Margo shifted positions in bed when she heard the sound of the shower going. She had gotten so used to having Striker around that she found comfort in his presence. A part of her couldn’t help wondering how she would handle things when he was no longer her protector.

  * * *

  AFTER REMOVING HIS CLOTHES, Striker stepped under the warm spray of the shower and tilted his head back. The water drenched his face, body and skin. He drew in a deep sigh as the water washed away some of the day’s stress, but it did nothing to rid him of all those sexual thoughts he was having of Margo in that bed. She was naked beneath those covers, he was sure of it. And for her not to suggest that he sleep elsewhere meant something, didn’t it?

  He cursed under his breath when he thought of that call from Freddie Siskin. Striker had meant what he’d told Margo about wanting to kick both Siskin’s and Dylan’s asses. What decent man would do something like that? Make a sex tape of his and his lover’s intimate encounters and then give it to someone to expose her if she didn’t pay up?

  Although Striker didn’t know Dylan, he couldn’t see him being involved in extortion. Not only could he lose that job he thought so much of, but the bastard could end up in jail. That made Striker wonder if perhaps Siskin was once again doing something stupid without telling Dylan about it. If that was the case, it would be up to Dylan to prove his innocence if Siskin was arrested.

  And Striker was sure Siskin would be caught. Everything had been coordinated with Stonewall and the police. Just like he said he would do, Freddie had called back in four hours and Margo claimed she had returned to town and agreed to meet with him the next day.

  While Freddie thought he’d be meeting with Margo, it would really be an undercover police officer impersonating Margo. Since Margo and Freddie had never officially met, he wouldn’t know the impersonator wasn’t Margo. And just in case Fre
ddie had seen a picture of Margo, the undercover police officer would be someone with similar features to Margo. The officer would be wired, and if there was any discussion of exchanging the tape for money, Freddie would be arrested. Margo’s uncle had been apprised of what was going on, just in case he also received a call from someone trying to extort money. Stonewall was coordinating things with Detective Ingram, and Striker had no doubt they had everything in hand.

  As he lathered his body, he remembered Margo in that bed. Why were all those flutters going off in his stomach? He knew the score. There never would be anything between him and Margo but this. For him it was a need that wouldn’t go away. A need that had him wanting her every time he looked at her, picked up her scent or touched her.

  But still, some inner part of him knew that although he enjoyed having sex with her, it was more than that. It had to be. And that was what scared the shit out of him. There was her smile that could light up a room, and then her frown that somehow had an alluring appeal. Even her nosy bones no longer bothered him because he accepted them as a part of her. On top of all that was her ability to care, sometimes too damn much. And she’d told him that she admired him, of all things. Other than Shep, no one else had ever told him that. He had felt her sincerity when she’d said it. He knew better than to let her opinion of him go to his head, but it had. She was becoming important to him, and that wasn’t good. There was a war going on inside of him, and he wasn’t sure which side he wanted to win. A part of him wanted to believe that, if given time, something serious could develop between them. He could prove to her that he was a better man than those two asses she’d been involved with in the past. He would appreciate her, treat her the way a woman should be treated.

  But then another part of him was afraid to even consider such a thing. The voice of reason wanted to convince him that when his protector gig with Margo was over he should keep walking and not look back. Looking back would be too risky. He could end up losing both his heart and soul. The thought of actually loving someone and losing them like he’d done with Wade and his mother would destroy him.

  After rinsing the soapy suds from his body, he turned off the shower and stepped out to towel off. Thoughts of making love to Margo again were consuming him. But he couldn’t see how he could stop them. He was too far gone, too overcome with desire.

  Wrapping the towel around his waist, Striker left the bath suite and headed to the bedroom...and to the woman he hoped like hell was waiting for him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  STRIKER WALKED INTO the bedroom, took a look at Margo in the bed and felt coiling sensations grip his erection. His gaze held hers, and at that moment there was no doubt in his mind she was waiting for him. Even from across the room he could feel the strong sexual chemistry flowing between them. It was so powerful his chest heaved from labored breathing. Tonight she lay there looking soft, feminine and very, very sexy while watching his every move. The thought that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her had him walking toward the bed. And when he got close enough, he dropped the towel.

  He heard her sharp intake of breath. She’d seen him naked before, and she’d seen pure unadulterated evidence of his desire for her. So why did seeing him now cause such a reaction? “You okay?” he asked, pushing the covers aside to slide into bed beside her.

  “Yes, I’m okay,” she said, easing toward him when he reached out for her. “Now that you’re here.”

  Just as he thought, she was naked, and that fired his libido even more. Pulling her into his arms, he felt her hands caress his back and shoulders. She paused when her finger touched an old scar on his arm, and she leaned in and kissed it.

  “A motorcycle injury?” she asked, gently rubbing the scar.

  He saw no reason not to tell her the truth. “No, it’s a knife wound.”

  She pulled back and stared into his face. “A knife wound?”

  “Yes, compliments of Stonewall.”

  “The same Stonewall who works for Roland and keeps you updated on things? Why would he stab you with a knife?”

  He was in the mood to make love, not to answer questions, but he would tell her this much. “It happened when Stonewall and I were in the slammer together and—”

  “Stonewall was in prison with you?”

  “Yes, that’s where Stonewall, Quasar and I met.”

  That seemed to shock her.

  He knew she was trying to wrap her head around what he’d told her, probably wondering why her uncle would hire ex-cons. He wouldn’t be the one to tell her that Roland had served time in jail as well.

  Deciding he would kiss her before her next question, he leaned in and joined his mouth with hers, letting her feel his tongue inside her mouth. Hopefully that would take her mind off his past and put it on her need for him.

  From the way she was returning his kiss, it was working. He had no problem succumbing to the primitive forces taking over his senses, making him not want to think beyond tonight.

  At that moment he felt pushed to the limits, desperate. He wanted her with a degree of passion that only she could stimulate. He felt incredibly hot for her and needed to get inside of her, join their bodies, their minds and their souls.

  Their souls?

  He suddenly broke off the kiss, wondering where that thought came from. He wasn’t sure and at the moment he didn’t want to analyze his thoughts. What he wanted was to see her. Pushing their bedcovers aside, he exposed all of her naked body and licked his lips as his gaze roamed over her. Her body was one any man would appreciate. She had the most gorgeous breasts, and the hardened dark nipples appeared as delicious chocolate morsels that his mouth wanted to devour.

  But then, the same thing could be said for the area between her legs. He loved tasting her there. He loved going inside of her, moving around, thrusting inside, pounding hard. Just seeing her like this, comfortable with the way he was looking at her, was making him crazy with lust.

  Every inch of her body was a total turn-on. He was about to pull her back into his arms when she pushed him on his back. She straddled him with her breasts hovering over his face. Not one to let an opportunity pass him by, he reached up and grabbed hold of a breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth, needing her taste. He applied suction with the intensity he craved.

  “Striker...”

  Doing this to her breast was probably making her wet. That was a good thing because he’d make a damn feast of her later. He took hold of the other breast and continued the torment, loving the sound of her moans. Margo was a highly sensual woman, and he knew if he kept this up, he could make her come just from sucking on her breast. The thought was tempting.

  He wasn’t immune either and was greedily feeding a desire within him that he felt all the way to his toes. It was a desire he wanted to take to the next level with her. Now. But then she flipped the script and decided to take things in her own hands, literally. She reached down and took hold of him with a snug grip and whispered, “Now it’s my time to taste.”

  He saw the heated lust in her eyes. Saw the greed and his erection throbbed. Just looking at her made him a near goner, and he had a feeling it would be him who would be coming all over the place.

  * * *

  MARGO SLID DOWN Striker’s body until she was eye level with his spread legs and stared at the huge shaft that was within inches of her face. The first word that came to her mind was magnificent.

  His shaft was standing straight up, surrounded by a dark thatch of curls. The head of it was big and smooth with thick veins running along the sides. This was the first time she’d seen a man’s penis this up close and personal and she thought it should be a model for all others.

  She had known how huge he was because she’d felt it slide inside of her, knew how her body had stretched to accommodate him. She also knew how it felt moving in and out of her and pounding into
her hard. But still, each and every time she saw it, it did something to her. It made her want to do what she intended to do now.

  “Margo?”

  She licked her lips. “Yes?”

  “You sure about this?”

  Margo smiled. Oh, she was definitely sure. And to show just how sure she was, the hand holding him began moving as she slowly began stroking him from the tip of the head all the way down to his balls. She did so while watching the play of emotions on his face. She loved seeing how his eyes would darken with each stroke, how his breath caught whenever her thumb rubbed over the smooth head, and the sound of his moan when her fingertips traced along the protruding veins.

  She lowered her head and rubbed his thick shaft against her cheek, loving the feel of it sliding against her skin. When had she become so bold and naughty? And why did being so mischievous feel so good when the man was Striker? The same man who was capturing her heart even when he wasn’t trying to.

  “You’re killing me, you know.”

  The husky sound of Striker’s voice made her smile. Made her attuned to everything male about him. His scent. The sound of him breathing. His strength. But, most of all, his ability to be a total turn-on. “No, I didn’t know. In that case, I guess I need to put you out of your misery.”

  With that said, she slid him between her lips, taking him into her mouth. She stared up and looked into his eyes, seeing the glaze of passion in their dark depths. If he only knew just how empowering his heated looks were. When she heard him groan her name, she became even more sexually charged. She continued to pay homage to this part of him, enjoying every minute. And if the moans that continued to flow from his lips were anything to go by, she believed he definitely appreciated her effort.

  Wanting Striker was easy. Wanting to please him was a desire that seemed to be a part of her. She felt the tremors that began moving through his body as she worked her mouth over him. The moment he reached out and grabbed her hair, fisting several locks, she tightened her grip on him and felt emboldened.