Lethal Lies

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Her chuckle bounced through his body and landed squarely in his groin. “Oh, we’re way past careful,” she breathed, leaning in to press her lips against his again. She stretched up on her toes for a better angle and tilted her head, her softness against him a temptation he’d never be able to resist.

  Her confidence awoke something in him. This time he went slow in taking over the kiss. He let her play for a few moments, let her set the pace and feel powerful. Fire shot through his body to heat his groin, making his jeans too tight. He grasped onto self-control with everything he had when all he wanted was to flip her around and take her down to the steps.

  Not Anya.

  He needed to be gentle. As his muscles tightened, he leaned back and studied her. Intrigue and need crossed her pretty face, and her breath came rapidly. Oh, she wanted a walk on the wild side—that was for sure. He’d give her what she needed without losing control or scaring her. He could do this. It was too late for him to turn back and it had been since the first time he’d met her. He hadn’t considered she’d give him a chance. “You sure?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes again.

  “Don’t challenge me, baby. Trust me.” Before she could give a smart-ass reply, he bent and smoothly lifted her over his shoulder.

  Her answering laugh held both glee and need.

  He held her legs to keep her in place and make sure she didn’t fall. The woman weighed nothing over his shoulder, so he climbed the stairs carefully to keep from jostling her.

  She sighed and slid both hands into his back jeans pockets. And squeezed.

  His vision went black. He halted and then continued on, his cock all but bursting from his jeans. The woman was a temptress who had absolutely no idea who she was dealing with. Control. He needed to keep control of himself. While she might think she wanted passionate and crazy, she had no idea of the wildness living within his skin. The primal being deep inside who wanted her sighing his name. Begging for more. Becoming his.

  But it couldn’t happen. This was casual and this was fun. Maybe if he repeated the mantra enough in his head, he’d actually believe it.

  He made quick tracks through the vestibule and into his temporary apartment, reaching the bedroom in a couple of heartbeats. Taking care, he flipped her over to sit on the bed.

  All that glorious red hair flew back. What would it be like to have the mass wrapped around him for life? An impossible dream.

  She laughed and settled herself. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Smart-ass.” He grinned and bit back the order he wanted to give her. Instead of commanding her to undress, he reached for her buttons. Slow and gentle, damn it. His hands stiffened, and he had to concentrate.

  She hummed and reached for his belt.

  Heat swept through him. Basketball scores. Golf courses. Baseball teams. He tried to take himself out of the moment . . . and she unzipped his fly. “Whoa.” He finished the buttons and jerked her shirt down, capturing her arms at her sides by tying the loose ends in front of her belly button.

  “Hey.” Her hands dropped, and she lifted her head.

  God, what he wouldn’t do to have her tied up, completely at his mercy. There was a power in having a strong woman like her give complete trust. But such power held two prongs. She’d own him. What if something happened to her? He blinked and shook his head at the uneasy thought. “Slow down,” he murmured, his gaze caught by her frilly pink bra. “Pretty.” Yeah, he’d been expecting something cotton and simple . . . Just how many layers did this woman have?

  “Thanks.” She struggled against her shirt. “I can’t move.”

  “That’s the idea.” He gave in and flicked the front clasp of the bra, springing it open. Her breasts were small and firm, with pert pink nipples. “Beautiful,” he breathed, easily tugging the bra straps down to join the shirt. Slowly, he dropped to his knees between her legs. “Behave yourself and slow down, or you’re about to see how easily I can use this pretty bra to contain you.”

  Her breath caught.

  No. Definitely no. She might think she wanted all of him, but no fucking way. He reached out, almost reverently, and cupped one breast. At the touch, his entire body shuddered. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “Heath,” she murmured.

  Yeah. Heath. He leaned in to kiss her between the breasts.

  She sucked in air, and her abdomen rippled. He smiled and kissed his way around both breasts, finally taking a nipple into his mouth. Her gasp moved her deeper into his mouth. Then she started to struggle against the shirt again. He growled and released her nipple, leaning back. “Knock it off.”

  “No.” She moved to kick him, and he pressed her to the bed, keeping her knees spread on either side of him. Her snarl was more of a growl.

  He grinned, light careening through him. Was that happiness? “You are so cute.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Somehow I just went from beautiful to cute. Would you please free my arms so I can touch you?”

  Hmm. He would like her hands on him now that he was back in control. And she had said please. “Fine.” He released the tie and pulled her shirt and bra free.

  “Better.” She licked her lips and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Duck.”

  He had just enough time to duck his head before she ripped it off.

  “Nice,” she breathed, flattening her hands over his abdomen. “Ridges and packed abs. You’re like a cologne advertisement.”

  Who cared about his abs or cologne? Her breasts were within his reach.

  She stayed away from his stitches and his newest bandage. Her hands flitted across the scars on his left side, and she frowned. “I hadn’t taken time to inspect these.”

  “Whip and belt,” he confirmed, pressing his hand between her breasts. Man, she was small.

  The sound of protest she made filled his heart. When was the last time a woman—and somebody not his family—truly cared? His touch turned reverent.

  “Who hurt you?” Anger rode her words.

  “Doesn’t matter.” And it didn’t. “Was a long time ago.” Although danger still hunted him, and he needed to remember that fact. “Enough talking.” He grasped her waist, lifted her, and moved them both to the center of the bed. Then he tunneled his hands into her hair and kissed her, putting all the words he couldn’t say into the kiss.

  She moaned and kissed him back, rolling onto him. The second her chest slid against his, he nearly lost his mind. Then she moved to the side and tried to shove down his jeans.

  He helped her and then added hers to the pile on the floor, leaving them both nude. She was beyond perfect, and his insides rioted. He had to protect her.

  She chuckled and moved back on top of him. Her thighs spread and her knees dropped to either side of his hips. She leaned down and nipped his chin. “Although I feel like I’m on a boulder right now. I mean, I don’t even press you into the bed, do I?”

  He tried to concentrate on her words and not on the wet heat coating his dick from her sex. Figured she’d be a talker. Why he liked that about her—a lot—he’d never know. “No?” He ran his hands down her back, to the dip in her waist, and finally to her butt. The woman had an ass on her, and he could spend days learning each curve and dimple.

  She wiggled against him, and he saw stars. Then she fingered a scar along his right pec. “Knife?” Her eyebrows drew down.

  “Yep. Bad guy I had to find for a Lost Bastards case.” The scars from adulthood he bore proudly, while the ones from his childhood he just wanted to forget about. Yet sharing them with her freed something inside him. Maybe he didn’t have to be so alone. At least for the moment. He flitted his fingers across her rib cage. “Does this still hurt?”

  “No.” She leaned down and kissed him. “The bruise is almost gone, too.”

  “Good.” He’d need to be careful not to bruise her tonight. They could go slow, and he’d make sure she was safe.

  She shook her head. “You’re thinking too much.” As if to stop him, she leaned dow
n and bit his lip.

  Hard.

  Anya knew the second she drew back that she had gone too far. Heath’s eyes flared, and he grasped her waist, flipping her onto her back. Then his powerful body rolled over her, easily bracketing her in place. “Anya,” he murmured, warning in his voice. Warning for her or for himself?

  “I would love to make you lose control,” she said, letting her mouth get ahead of her brain again.

  His head tilted in a curiously threatening way that somehow turned her on even more. “No, you would not. Trust me.” He held his weight up on his elbows but still somehow pressed her into the bed. “No more biting, and no more trying to catch me off guard.” To soften his order, he pressed his lips against hers.

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he took her under, shoving the words back down her throat. His chest flattened her breasts, and his mouth destroyed hers.

  Deep and hard, he kissed her. Her vision fuzzed, and she shut her eyes just to feel. So much and so fast. He clasped the back of her neck, massaging with a gentleness that only hinted at his strength. Her clit pounded against his engorged penis, and she shifted restlessly against him. Big. He felt too big.

  The idea gave her a thrill.

  Then he nipped her lip, and she dug her nails into his back. He released her mouth to trail kisses along her jaw and then bit her earlobe.

  Sensations hurtled through her. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she widened her legs. Her body ached, empty and needy. But the emptiness went deeper than the moment. He could fill her. Make her complete again. “Heath.”

  “Not yet.” He licked beneath her jaw, and she shivered.

  “When?” Her entire body was alight with fire, and only he could soothe her. She’d never wanted sex this badly in her entire life, and they were just getting started. It wasn’t only his body, although that was spectacular. It was the way he protected her—the way he’d defended her. As if she was more important than anything else. She wanted all of him—and with him inside her, she’d have him as close as possible for now. “Heath?”

  “When you’re ready.” He kept moving, licking along her collarbone, touching her everywhere.

  She scraped her nails across his lower back. Her entire life she’d been waiting for such an incredible feeling. “I’m ready.”

  “No.” He nipped her abs and then settled farther down on the bed, his breath heating her sex.

  Oh. A thought crossed her mind that she should be embarrassed at the blatant intimacy in the act. Yet his tongue swirled around her clit, and she forgot all feelings but the one centered right on him.

  He did it again, and she almost came off the bed. Chuckling, he clamped both hands on her thighs, spreading her open and holding her in place. Cool air brushed her sensitive parts, and she bit back a moan.

  He was going to kill her.

  “Finally,” he breathed against her. One hand released her to trail along her thigh and then her labia. His touch gentle, he slid a finger into her. “Ah, baby. You’re so wet.” His pleased rumble heated her, even as he continued to play, as if memorizing every inch of her.

  His mouth and fingers were taking control, and all she could do was dig her fingers into the bedspread on either side of her. The intimacy of the moment ratcheted her need even higher. Her thighs quivered, and she tried to tighten them. Her eyelids closed, and her body stiffened on its own.

  His nip to her clit nearly sent her into an orgasm.

  Another finger joined the first, instantly hitting a spot inside her that made her arch. “What the hell?” she sputtered.

  “Your G-spot,” he said, sucking her clit into his mouth.

  The room tilted and then spun. Shock held her for a moment before the orgasm rushed through her, flicking arcs of pure pleasure through her entire body. She cried out and rode the waves, knowing nothing for a few minutes except delicious ecstasy. She came down with a soft sigh, her body melting into the bed.

  He lifted his ruffled head, the rogue in him showing in his smile. “Let’s do that again.”

  Empty. Even though that had been spectacular, deep inside she still felt empty. Going on instinct, she reached down and grabbed his hair. “Up here,” she barely got out.

  His eyes narrowed.

  She was past caring and gave him a hard tug.

  He winced and grabbed her wrist, quickly securing the other one, too. “Now, that wasn’t nice.” Easily keeping hold of her, he moved up her body, his heated skin brushing over hers.

  Too much and too wonderful. She let her thighs open more. “Now.” Who needed sentences? God, she wanted him inside her. Wanted to be with him . . . surrounded by him. Wanted, for a small sliver of time, to be part of him.

  He held her hands down on either side of her head with enough pressure that she couldn’t move. “Stay here.”

  She blinked. “I didn’t know I had a G-spot.”

  He halted, poised above her, and then threw back his head and laughed, the sound a little pained. “You’re gonna kill me. I just know it.”

  She basked in the idea. To think that studious Anya Best could affect a man like this in such a way. With very quick motions, he grabbed a condom from his wallet on the bedside table. Within seconds, he’d sheathed himself and moved over her again.

  He looked back at her hands, still flat against the bed. “Good girl.”

  Okay. That was kind of sexy. It shouldn’t have been . . . but it was. She smiled.

  He paused, his gaze darkening. “Dangerous,” he murmured, positioning himself at her entrance. “We need to go slow. You’re tight.”

  And he was huge. Definitely well endowed. She slid her hands over his massive shoulders. “Tonight would be nice,” she said on a breath.

  He grinned and dropped his head to her forehead. “It’s like you want to be spanked.”

  Her body spasmed. “Wh-what?” Figured he was into kinky games. “I do not.” Yet the idea made her even wetter.

  “Liar,” he whispered, slowly entering her. The pace cost him, and she could feel it. His skin dampened, and his taut muscles all but vibrated as he controlled himself.

  Inch by inch, he moved inside her, taking possession. Her eyes widened as he more than filled her, stretching her in a way she’d never experienced. He was so large as to be everything.

  “You feel so good,” she whispered, feeling taken over. “There’s just so much of you.” He touched every nerve inside her.

  He chuckled, a vein pulsing in his neck from the tension of going so slow. “You are a sweetheart, Anya Best. You truly are.”

  She didn’t want to be sweet. She wanted to be dangerous and irresistible. In fact, she wanted to be wild enough to make him lose control. Needed to be his match. So she ran her hands down his torso, feeling his scars and strength. Maleness filled her palms, and she moved around to lightly tap his muscled ass. “Maybe I’ll spank you.”

  He shoved harder, breaking all the way in.

  She arched and cried out as pleasure and pain melded into one. “Heath.”

  “Yeah.” His head dipped, and he kissed her hard on the mouth. He went deep, taking her with him, shooting liquid fire throughout her body. Finally, he let her breathe. “Stop challenging me.”

  Challenging him? Her lips tingled and her breasts ached. Her body was alight . . . beneath his. She couldn’t even think. Yet there was an answer she had to give. “No.”

  “Hmmm. I think I know how to quiet you.” He began to move inside her, pulling out to thrust back in, quickly gaining pace and strength.

  She couldn’t concentrate. Sensations rose inside her, a series of lightning storms over churning water—all electricity and danger.

  He manacled her thigh and tugged. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She obeyed, clasping her ankles at his back.

  “Good.” He shoved in harder, going deeper than she would’ve thought possible.

  She arched against him, taking everything he had. The strength and the power of him—coupled with the gentleness
—was more than she’d ever be able to fight. She gave her body to him, memorizing every second. “More,” she said, her fingers clutching the top of his butt.

  He kissed her again, going deep, hammering into her with longer strokes. His cock slammed hard and fast, his entire body one muscled machine around her.

  The raw flames inside her uncoiled, and she detonated, shutting her eyes and crying out his name.

  He pounded harder, prolonging her orgasm. Only after she’d wound down with a whimper did he press his face into her neck and latch on with his mouth. He didn’t bite her or break the skin, but his mouth was attached to her neck as absolutely as his body was taking hers. With a massive shudder against her, he stopped moving.

  Her eyes opened, and she ran a soothing hand down his heaving back. God, that had been amazing. Her heart turned over.

  All the way.

  CHAPTER

  22

  Heath shoved his hands into his jeans pocket and hunched further down into his leather jacket as the morning threw snow at him. “You sure it’s safe to leave them?” he asked Ryker again.

  Ryker glanced down the quiet street and continued walking. “The alarms are set, and the booby traps are activated. If anybody tries to break into the building, we’ll know it instantly. Plus, Zara is armed and out of bed doing some weird yoga-Pilates DVD.”

  “Okay,” Heath said. “We have thirty minutes to shop, and then I want to check out the decoy offices.” They’d be back at the safe house within two hours. That was okay.

  “Did you take care of the GPS tracker on Anya’s phone?” Ryker asked.

  The mention of her name jolted his system. “Yeah. Last night after she fell asleep,” Heath said. “Didn’t want her to worry about it.” He’d left Anya sleeping peacefully in bed after their night together. After sex, she’d pretty much fallen into sleep immediately, which he’d appreciated. He’d never been good with the after-coitus talk. The night had been special and beyond his experience. Were there words for that? And how could he tell her that the second she was safe he would leave her to hunt down the people who wanted him dead? He couldn’t promise her he’d make it back. There was a good chance he wouldn’t.