Winning Moves

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “At a nearby location.”

  She nodded, relieved.

  Their eyes locked and sexual tension spiked as if it had been shot into the room with a cannon. Silence fell between them, heavy with the sudden charge. Constantine was studying her with such intensity she felt as if he could see her soul, unveil what secrets her file hadn’t already revealed. Wordlessly, he inched closer.

  Instantly, Nicole’s heart began to race, anticipating his touch, his nearness. He reached for one of her boots as if he meant to take it off. But that set off one of her phobia alarms, dousing the sexual heat of seconds before. How did he expect her to get out of this place without her boots? Nicole jerked her feet toward her, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting you some comfort. You know your feet are killing you.”

  “I can’t run in bare feet.” Running in boots with the heels cut off was bad enough.

  “You won’t be running anytime soon,” he informed her. “We have six hours until we leave. You might as well get some rest and dry off.”

  Her throat went dry. “Six hours? Several hours is now six? In this cave? Is there oxygen?”

  “Yes. Plenty of ventilation points throughout the caverns.”

  She shook her head. All her efforts at relaxing flew to the wayside. “Still. No. I can’t. I…I can’t be in this hole that long.” Constantine’s expression softened. “Don’t look at me like that. I am fine. I just can’t stay here that long.”

  He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. “You can.” Somehow he was closer now. His knees touched hers, a small gesture in a small space. “I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t need your help. Just give me some room to process all of this.” Crowding her would only make things worse.

  But he didn’t back off. His fingers slid around one of her calves and inched her pant leg upward; his callused fingers brushed below her knee. Tiny darts of anticipation shot straight to her core. And considering her current state of anxiety, that shouldn’t be possible, but yet, he was proving it was. Maybe she didn’t need space. Maybe she needed him. She focused on the sizzling sensations he was creating in her, focused on his face so she wouldn’t look at the enclosure of the walls. His gaze swept her mouth. “I’m not sure I’m capable of giving you room right now,” he said. “I want you too badly, Nicole.”

  She swallowed at the directness of his words, finding herself mesmerized, lost in those chocolate-colored eyes of his. Desire pooled in her limbs, driving away the fear once again.

  Slowly Constantine began to inch the zipper on her boot downward, his fingers trailing her bare skin in its wake. Nicole suppressed a shiver, not willing to let him see how easily he affected her. The man even made removing a boot sexy.

  “I didn’t want to leave you that first night,” he murmured.

  The unexpected comment drew a hint of anger from her. Instinctively, she reached forward and covered his hand with hers, stilling his action. In the process, their lips drew close. After hours in the woods, he shouldn’t smell good but he did. Spicy and male.

  “But you did leave, didn’t you?” she questioned, thinking of how he’d snuck under her guard and then left her sitting at that table, feeling a fool. It stung and the memory stiffened her spine.

  “If I had stayed, I would have taken you up to a hotel room and made love to you in as many ways as you would have let me.” His fingers slid around her other calf, and she couldn’t find the will to stop him. “But then, morning would have come, and you would have hated me.”

  “I should hate you,” she whispered, torn between her desire to embrace her attraction to this man and her fear of what doing so might mean. The fear that he might wake a part of her that needed to stay dormant. “What you did was wrong.”

  His gaze lifted from her mouth. “Do you?” he asked, staring at her. “Do you hate me, Nicole?”

  She raised her chin slightly. If he thought lust and admiration, or even like, were the same, he was wrong. Her ex had taught her well—sex could be just sex. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  His mouth quirked ever so slightly. “Good. Then I still have a chance to affect the decision.”

  Leaning into her, Constantine brushed his lips over hers in a seductive caress that left her wanting more. “Anger can be a powerful aphrodisiac,” he murmured softly. “Perhaps you can think of some ways to even the score.”

  And so the challenge was issued. Play or fold?

  Should she hover in this cave and let her phobia get the best of her or show Agent Constantine Vega just how out of his league sexually he really was?

  She gave him a sly, sensual smile a second before she nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

  She quickly slid out of his reach and rested against the wall. “Stand up and take off your clothes.”

  7

  “STAND UP AND take off your clothes.” Nicole repeated her words, letting them linger in the air, a challenge issued. She knew Constantine wasn’t a man who easily gave away control, the exact reason why convincing him to do so now held so much excitement. “If you dare,” she added, her words meant to provoke a reaction.

  But Constantine wasn’t one to be lured into an emotional response. He appeared frozen, no discernible expression on his handsome face. Ah, but she could sense the calculation in him, the struggle within his soul.

  Finally he spoke, his voice low, taut. “Once we’re even, we’re even. The game starts all over again.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation,” she said with defiance.

  Constantine merely crossed his arms in front of his big, brawny chest and cocked an eyebrow. Without words, he was demanding she concede.

  Stubborn man. She had to find a way to steal some of the power. “Fine,” she replied. “But I say when we’re even.”

  And yet his expression said he wasn’t biting. She made a frustrated sound. “What do you suggest then?”

  The corners of his full mouth hinted at a smile, the look on his face now crystal clear. It was hungry, aroused, downright full of sexual heat.

  His voice vibrated with that heat as he responded. “We’ll both know when we’re even.” Confidence was clear in more than his words, it showed in his actions as he reached behind him and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

  Oh, mama, did Nicole get an eyeful of perfection. Constantine’s light brown, sun-kissed coloring somehow emphasized the rippling, absolutely drool-worthy abs he possessed. Six-pack be damned. The man had an eight-pack. And nice pecs, too, with just the right amount of hair sprinkled around dark, flat nipples.

  But the most arousing feature Constantine possessed thus far was the perfect line of hair seductively trailing downward and breaking at the depth of his inverted navel. It then continued lower until it disappeared into his jeans, a road map to sin and sensation she couldn’t wait to explore.

  Heat pooled between her legs, arousal radiating through every nerve ending in her body. She was wet and not from the rain. Wet from wanting. A want that had started a week ago when she’d met Constantine, but which had never been fully realized, or fulfilled.

  Her gaze slowly slid back up that delicious path of hair. “Finish,” she ordered, her voice far more affected than she would have liked it to have been.

  “Whatever you want,” he said, reaching for the top of his jeans.

  “Remember that,” she commented, thinking the list of wants was likely to be a long one at this rate. She wanted and wanted. Then, wanted some more. On top. On the bottom. Sitting. Standing. But not yet. Not until she’d tortured him as he had her. Not until that scoreboard was nice and even.

  The zipper of his jeans slid down as she impatiently waited for all to be revealed. Unfortunately, he took a short detour, bending down and taking off his boots and socks. That had to be done, she reluctantly admitted, feeling impatient for her prize—a good look at Constantine in the raw.

  When fin
ally the denim slid away from his long limbs, so did the boxers. They came off in a swish of movement, leaving nothing but sinfully naked skin and amazing male perfection. Constantine stood before her, his cock jutting forward and all six foot plus inches of taut, mouthwatering muscle—the kind that came from dedicated hours in a gym.

  Biting her bottom lip, Nicole debated. Crawl right on over and give him a lick or stand up and do a nice, visual walk around, check out that tight, now naked, ass of his. He deserved to wait for her mouth. Too bad that meant she had to wait, too.

  She stood up and quickly made her way behind him. He started to turn. Nicole grabbed his hips. “Don’t even think about it. This is my show right now.”

  “We’d both enjoy this more if you were naked, too.”

  “I’m enjoying myself just fine,” she murmured, one palm gliding over the contour of one firm butt cheek. Damn, it was nice. Tight. Muscular. Her brain went wild with more images: him on top, a mirror overhead, an exquisite view of his body as he pumped into her. Her sex clenched, her body needy for satisfaction. She settled for more exploration, palming the other cheek of that fine ass and then sliding her hands over the back of his upper thighs.

  “You are enjoying yourself, Constantine,” she purred, scooting closer to him, her fingers skimming his waist, teasing low on his stomach, taunting him with how near her hands were to his erection. “Aren’t you?” Her teeth scraped his shoulder.

  “You’re killing me and you know it,” he responded, his voice raspy with need.

  “Am I?” Nicole questioned in mock innocence, moving her hands from his stomach and walking around to face him. Her eyes locked with his as she refused to look at his cock. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

  “Take your clothes off.” It was a command.

  “No.” She smiled seductively. “I’m sure I can soothe your needs some other way, though.”

  Taking a step forward, she brought his hard length to her immediate left, careful not to touch it with any part of her body. She slid one hand through that dark sprinkle of hair on his chest.

  He reached for her and she smacked him away. “No. Don’t make me tie you up. I’m sure you have the tools here in your well-stocked hideout.”

  She scraped his nipple with her fingernail. Constantine sucked in a soft breath, staring at her through heavy-lidded, passion-filled eyes as he vowed revenge. “I’m going to make you pay for this later.”

  Something told her she’d enjoy paying the price for her behavior, but she kept that as her secret. “That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of you, considering you brought this on yourself.”

  “I never claimed to be a gentleman, now did I?”

  Her lips pursed. “True enough,” she agreed, her fingers exploring the muscular contours of his chest before caressing their way to his stomach and brushing the dark hair of his pelvis area. “But then, I’m not exactly the girl next door, either.”

  “More ice princess,” he accused.

  Her brows dipped at the accusation, her hand moving swiftly, issuing punishment as it tightly wrapped around his cock. “Does this feel like ice?” she demanded, exploring his length and teasing the head, spreading the drop of dampness there around the smooth tip.

  A low sound of pleasure slid from his parted lips, but he still managed a rebuttal. “You’re coldhearted, darlin’, and we both know it. Otherwise you’d let me touch you.”

  She pushed to her toes, her fingers still working his cock, her lips lingering a breath from his. “Making you pay for your bad behavior doesn’t make me cold. Giving me the control simply makes you feel vulnerable, and you don’t like it.”

  “I don’t feel vulnerable at all,” he replied quickly, a glib edge to his voice. “Perhaps it’s you who does. Perhaps that’s why you’re afraid to let me touch you.”

  Nicole jerked back to glare at him, his words striking an unexpectedly raw nerve that she didn’t like one bit. He quirked a brow as if he knew he were right, his expression a silent taunt. Her desire to wipe that sexy, smart-ass look off his too-handsome face sent her to her knees. She’d show him control.

  She settled back on her heels, her fingers wrapping around the base of Constantine’s erection. Bringing the soft tip of his cock near her mouth so that her breath teased, her chin tipped upward, her eyes found his. “Who has the control?”

  His lips were thin, his body tense with anticipation. “You do, cariña,” he said gently, his voice hoarse. “I never said otherwise.”

  Not directly, but he’d inferred his own control. She lapped at his erection and then denied him further satisfaction. “Yes.” The first word held a bite; the rest were an explanation for her actions. “You did.”

  “If you didn’t have control,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “I would have my hands in your hair right now, pushing your mouth back to my cock. But be warned.” He paused, obviously to let the meaning of his words sink in. “If you tease me too much, I might take more than control.”

  His words both infuriated and scintillated. He was impossible, this man. Most men would beg at this point. He ordered, demanded, threatened to take her. And despite his attitude and his resistance to her command, he made her hot. She could feel her thighs trembling, her sex aching. Damn, the man. He would not win. He would beg before this was over.

  Nicole ran her tongue down his length, licking him with long, teasing caresses, watching him watch her, aroused by the hunger in his gaze. She worked him with her tongue, stroking over and over, doing everything but taking him fully into her mouth. Still, Constantine used restraint; he didn’t touch her, didn’t ask for what she knew he wanted…what she wanted—for her to take all of him.

  Eventually, she gave in to her own desire and drew him into her mouth, pleased when she heard his intake of breath. And while she wanted to see the desire in his features, she found herself absorbed in tasting him. Her lashes settled on her cheeks as she began to suckle him deeply, intent on the pleasure of giving pleasure. Her nipples ached, her clit throbbed. She wanted him to touch her. Still, he did not. His ability to refrain irritated her.

  Fully determined to push him over the edge, she took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue stroking the underside of his shaft. Nicole’s hand pumped even as her mouth slid back and forth. His hips began to work against her hand. She palmed his ass, using it to anchor her body as he thrust harder, faster. She could taste the salty proof of how near release he was. So close. Satisfaction filled her, driving her to push him further into his pleasure zone. She slid her fingers along the crevice of his ass, exploring all she could, everywhere she could.

  Success came to Nicole when Constantine’s hands slid into her hair, as if he feared she would stop working him, stop tasting him. She didn’t push his hands away as she might have minutes before. She wanted him to come. Wanted to know she’d taken this powerful male over the edge. She suckled him completely. He was hers now, lost to passion, lost to what she’d taken from him—control. Oh, how she loved it. She’d won the minute he’d touched her head, the minute he’d begun to cling to release.

  But just when she thought she’d won, Constantine surprised her, totally taking her off guard. In a movement both fast and hard, he pulled himself free of her. Before she knew it, he’d bent down and picked her up as if she weighed nothing. She either had to let her legs dangle or wrap them around his body, which is what she did. His hands tangled in her half-dry hair, his lips claiming hers, his tongue blasting her with wild fire, stealing her objections with its bittersweet perfection. Everything in her world seemed to melt into that moment, into Constantine’s kiss, his body.

  Long moments later, he tore his lips from hers. “We’re even now. You’ve thoroughly tormented me.”

  “I’d only gotten started,” she hissed, her voice filled with passion. She wanted to kiss him again.

  “I am going to make you come so many times you won’t remember your name. Just mine.”

  His mouth claimed hers in a dominating, hot k
iss that left Nicole no room to resist—not that she wanted to. This man’s kisses had the unique ability to arouse her entire body. Pure unadulterated lust licked at her limbs, his promises playing in her mind and delivering an extra thrill. Constantine had claimed control, which belonged to her, and she should care. She would care. Right after this kiss.

  He seemed to read her mind, tearing his lips from hers. “Nicole,” he whispered, his jaw sliding along hers, lips by her ear. “Since we’re even now. No more hiding behind that control of yours. It’s mine now. You’re mine now.”

  8

  CONSTANTINE WANTED Nicole’s surrender, and he planned to have it this night. He swallowed her objections with another hot kiss, savoring the sweet taste of her. His fingers sprawled on her back, caressing their way over her side, and upward, until he cupped her breast. His thumb slid over her nipple, back and forth, and she rewarded his actions with a soft moan. A moan that spurred his hunger for another one. Yet, he had one thing to attend to first. One absolute must.

  Reluctantly, he set Nicole down, driven by the incentive to strip her naked. The barriers had to go, both in the form of her clothing and her games. He’d studied her file. He knew she’d hit the sex clubs with her ex, but he also knew she’d left all that behind years ago. Had covered herself in a prim-and-proper facade—the untouchable ice princess. The idea of making her melt thickened his shaft, arousing him with the sweetness of her submission.

  He reached for the buttons of her blouse, impatience making him forgo the effort. “Take it off before I rip it off.” He leveled her in a steady look. “And don’t think I won’t do it. You successfully achieved your goal.” Constantine stroked his shaft. “I’m on edge. I want you in a bad way.”

  She took a step back from him and knelt down, removing her boots, her gaze going to his hand as he stroked himself, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I could have taken care of that for you.”

  “You will,” he said with certainty. “My way.”

  She stood up, boots and socks discarded, her toes painted a light, delicate pink. Everything about her body was feminine and perfect, soft in all the right spots. But then there was that hard exterior she hid her emotions behind. That had to go. He wanted her in full submission, which meant the walls had to come down.