“What if I don’t want to do it your way?”
He quirked a brow at that. “You have something against pleasure? Because, that’s what I intend for both of us.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes, his response obviously taking her a bit off guard. She hesitated, and then brought her fingers to the silk buttons of her blouse, working them with speed and agility. Her actions, whether she knew it or not, offered her first bit of submission. She’d agreed to allow him his way. They were already making progress.
Without preamble, Nicole finished her task. She slid the blouse off her shoulders, leaving her in a damp, sheer pink bra that clung to her breasts, the red pert nipples beneath the material exposed for his hungry eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t stop there. In less than a minute, her slacks were gone, giving him a delicious view of her long legs and creamy white skin. Next came the panties, the tangle of blond curls drawing his gaze to the V of her body, and he wondered if she was wet—no, he knew she was. He wondered how she would taste, how she would feel wrapped around his cock.
That thought skidded to a temporary halt as that sheer bra flew to the ground, allowing him to worship those full, high breasts with a more thorough examination.
“I’m all yours, Agent Vega.” Her hands went in the air, to her sides, a come-and-get-me invitation. “What are you going to do with me?”
A smile touched his lips with that challenge. Somehow, she’d given in to his demands but still managed to make her own. Damn, this woman got to him.
“On the mattress,” he ordered.
Her eyes didn’t leave his face. One second, two—she seemed to consider this path of submission that she was treading down. Then, as if she’d decided it, she said, “All right,” and settled on the mattress. She sat with her hands behind her, breasts thrust forward, legs slightly parted in a tease of a pose.
Constantine wasn’t in the mood to be teased. Not anymore. He found the edge of the mattress with his knees. Before she knew his intentions, she was on her stomach.
His hands braced on either side of her head, his face buried in her neck, cock brushing that lush backside. “My way,” he murmured, his nostrils flaring with the sweet scent of her arousal. “You’ll like my way, just wait and see.”
Slowly, he eased back to his knees, one hand on her lower back in case she decided to turn, the other giving her backside a tiny little slap. Not hard. Just enough to let her know who was in charge.
She pushed up on her hands. “Hey—” The objection became a soft moan as his one palm slid under her stomach, lifting and holding her hips even as he slid a finger across the slick wet heat between her legs, parting her swollen lips. He stroked her sensitive skin, preparing her a moment before sliding his finger inside her.
Her arms went limp, fingers curling in the blanket covering the mattress. A soft moan came purring from that full mouth that had been on his cock only minutes before. He moved the hand he held on her stomach, sliding it to her clit, tweaking and flicking, the action encouraging her hips to arch upward.
Her ass tilted up, giving him better access, inviting him to explore more. He palmed her cheeks, taking a moment to admire that stellar ass in the air before he rotated to lie on his back. He scooted beneath her hips until he found his target. He lapped at her clit and then suckled it. She bucked against him, moving with his actions.
While some women might have stayed on their stomachs, Nicole wasn’t one of them. Nor had he expected her to be. She pushed to her hands and knees, but not to escape. She wanted more, spreading her legs, and rocking with the thrust of his tongue. Constantine licked and teased. Her clit was swollen, the delicious honey of her body proof of her nearing orgasm. But just when he thought she’d surely go over the edge, she moved.
Suddenly, Nicole was straddling him. A second later, she took him inside her, surprising and pleasing him all in one action. In unison, they moaned with the impact of her taking his shaft deep inside her body, warm, wet heat consuming him.
She braced her hands on his chest, her voice raspy. “We’re trying to get to ‘even,’ right? You didn’t come without me. I didn’t want to come without you.”
She had wrapped her actions in a sexual taunt, but there was more to it than that. The give-and-take, the status of “even” rather than of one defeating the other—something about that touched him on an emotional level and shifted the mood.
As if she sensed that and it scared her, she quickly whispered, “That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you,” as her hips worked his cock in a slow, circular tease of a motion. He watched her, enjoying the way her breasts bounced ever-so-slightly with the gentle movement, a visual pleasure, like the rest of her lush body.
“You don’t hate me,” he said, her actions proving just the opposite.
“I might,” she whispered again, but her eyes locked with his, full of intimacy that reached deeper than their connected bodies.
“Don’t,” he told her firmly. “Don’t hate me.”
His words altered the mood further, and with the suddenness of a lightning strike in a summer storm, all their power plays, all their games, simply evaporated. Their bodies stilled. There was only this—only the two of them. Perhaps, the uneasiness of their futures, of the way this race for their lives would end, contributed to their feelings. Their connection deepened beyond the physical.
They moved as one. She leaned down as he reached for her. Their lips met in a kiss that was tender, passionate, their tongues stroking, caressing, tasting. Their bodies began a slow dance that matched the rhythm of their tongues. He murmured her name. She murmured his. Their hands explored. He felt her every breath, tasted her every moan. And reveled in the gasp that came a second before her orgasm.
She tensed, burying her face in his neck, her sex spasming around his cock, wet heat begging him to pump harder, deeper. He gave her what she wanted, what he, too, wanted. One hand on her back, he pressed her tight against his body even as he lifted his hips. Suddenly, he exploded, pleasure inching through his groin with an intensity that shook him from head to toe.
Later, they lay there, sated for the time being. She was soft and delicate in his arms. He still wanted her, he realized, arousal forming yet again—his desire to take her was nowhere near depleted. His idea that having her would satisfy his need for her hadn’t worked. But even more concerning was what he felt. There was more in the air than good sex. The air crackled with an emotional awareness that he suspected had taken her by surprise as much as it had him. He wasn’t a man that did relationships. His career simply didn’t allow it. So why wasn’t he moving? Why did he want to hold her, to make love to her again?
Before he could give his reaction to Nicole any real consideration, she lifted her head and stared at him, blond hair now dry, wild and sexy around her face and creamy white shoulders. Seconds passed, her attention fixed on his face, probing, intense. Then, without a word, she slid off him and onto her back, arm draped over her face as if she didn’t want to be seen. Or perhaps she didn’t want to see the ceiling of the cave. Her claustrophobia was still very real; he’d simply distracted her thoughts, her mind, her fears.
It pleased him he could do that for her, that she’d wanted him enough to forget a phobia that clearly controlled her on many levels. An odd desire to pull her close again overwhelmed him. Which was exactly why he didn’t reach for her. His life allowed them nowhere to go but to bed. Period. The end.
The dampness on his stomach needed attending, which gave him a “holy shit” reality check. They hadn’t used birth control. He always used a condom. Always. Even had one in his wallet, which he’d intended to use. Nicole had overwhelmed him, straddling him like she did, and he’d forgotten himself. Scrubbing his jaw, he resolved himself to the conversation that had to take place.
He reached inside a box that sat beside the mattress, grabbed a small towel and wiped his stomach before moving to Nicole’s side. He settled the towel between her legs and held it there, silently asking for her attention.
Her arm lifted from her face, her expression holding a question. “We didn’t use a condom,” he stated.
She didn’t so much as blink. “I take a Depo shot for birth control every three months. Have for years. We’re safe. Of course, being responsible adults, we should have used protection for other reasons. Still…” Worry flashed in her eyes. “If Alvarez has his way, we won’t see another day, anyway.”
The relief he’d felt when she said she used birth control faded with the rest of her words. Constantine recognized the subtle confession she’d offered of being scared over their situation. He was a hard man, not often one to offer comfort, but Nicole touched a softer spot in him, an effect that he wasn’t sure he liked. That hardness in his soul had kept him alive a good many times. But somehow it didn’t matter where she was concerned, and he didn’t know why.
Pulling Nicole into his arms, her back to his chest, a little sound of surprise slid from her lips—surprise that mimicked what he felt inside by his own actions. She didn’t resist being held, and that pleased him on a level he preferred not to analyze.
Soon, they were spooning, and inevitably, her soft curves had his body responding to her nearness. He was hard again and he didn’t try to hide it. Instead, he tucked himself between her legs and simply held her. She relaxed against him, again showing him a sign of that trust he’d wanted so badly. Her hard shell had melted away for him. Maybe it would be back tomorrow, probably would, in fact. Probably should. But right now, he wanted to deserve what she’d offered. Resolve formed. Constantine had seen Alvarez destroy too many lives. Nicole wasn’t going to be one of them. He’d brought this situation on her; he wouldn’t leave her high and dry. And he wasn’t about to allow the past three years to mean nothing.
He tucked his chin by her shoulder, her hair tickling his cheek. “Everything will work out. I promise.”
9
NICOLE SNUGGLED into the warmth around her, a feeling she clung to, a shelter in a storm. “Nicole. Wake up.”
A caress touched her hair, her shoulder. “We have to go soon.” The voice came near her ear. Male. Sexy… It jerked her awake. Nicole sat up, looked around her, sucking in a breath that felt a bit out of reach. “Cave,” she gasped. “We’re in a cave.”
“Easy, cariña.” Constantine was sitting beside her now, pulling her back into those warm, safe arms, against that hard chest she’d explored not so long ago. His hands stroked her hair, her arm. She melted into him as the confinement of the small space worked a number on her nerves. She wasn’t weak. She overcame her fear earlier. She could do it now.
Inhaling again, she tried to pull some air into her lungs; she reached for calmness. “I hate this so much.”
“I know. We’re leaving in about an hour from now.”
“I didn’t mean this place, but the way I respond to it. I hate it.” Why had she just admitted that? Nicole gently pushed out of his arms. “I’m okay.” She scooted to the edge of the bed, telling herself the exposed feeling was her nudity when she knew it was her emotions. Something was happening with Constantine. She’d gone to him in lovemaking, and now she’d opened up about her inner fears.
He slid a sheet over her shoulders, as if offering her shelter. His hands stayed on her shoulders. “We all have things we wish we could change about ourselves.”
She shifted her position to face him. “Yeah?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “What would you change?”
“Being too weak to kill Alvarez when I had the chance.” Constantine scooted to the edge of the mattress.
“That wasn’t weakness,” she assured him. “Doing what is right is harder than doing what you desire.” She knew this firsthand. Knew it because she’d lived a life where money and excitement, even sex, drove her actions. Where winning wasn’t about what was right. It was about what it could do for her.
He didn’t comment, and for some reason, she thought he regretted his admission as much as she had hers. She opened her mouth to ask why and shut it again—the sight of Constantine pushing to his feet, his jeans in his hand, stealing her words. He was naked and, with the flex of all that muscle, breathtakingly male.
As if he wanted to tempt her into an outright erotic fantasy, he gave her a show, pulling on his underwear and pants, his long legs, and tight ass, too spectacular to ignore. Amazingly, she managed to reach for her bra and slip it on, thankful it was almost dry. Somehow, she even pulled on her wrinkled mess of a blouse.
Her gaze swept the broad expanse of his chest, the bulge of his arms. She had slept like a baby in those arms, despite the cave. How long had it been since she’d slept in a man’s arms? Two years? Three? It didn’t mean anything. Nor did the desire she had for this man. He wasn’t pulling her back into her old life, her old world. She was stronger now. She could separate her sexual needs and wants from her other choices. In fact, wasn’t Constantine helping her to see that?
Constantine grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, covering up the chest and arms she’d been inspecting. Nicole finished dressing, easing her pants over her hips. She had justified her actions by her need for a distraction. Who would have known a hot man could put an end to her claustrophobia, or at least put it in check?
Nicole was about to put her boots on when Constantine kneeled beside her and stilled her actions with his hand on her leg. He indicated a box beside the mattress. “There are bandages and ointment in there. It will help ease the pain.”
His touch sent a barely concealed shiver down her spine. “Thanks,” she said, cutting her gaze away from his too-attentive eyes.
While Nicole bandaged her foot, Constantine filled a backpack with supplies and then sat down next to her.
“Hungry?” he asked, offering her a granola bar.
Her stomach rumbled loudly and they both laughed. A smile touched his lips. He was handsome when he smiled, and the awkwardness of their confessions faded away.
“I guess that answers your question,” Nicole responded, pressing her hand to her abdomen and accepting the food.
He grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge and they ate in silence. Nicole could barely wait to leave. She thought back to how understanding Constantine had been of her phobia. Her ex rarely crossed her mind these days, but he did now. He’d been impatient over her claustrophobia, irritated because their sexual escapades never included her being tied up, and embarrassed when she panicked on business flights. She hated those memories, but considering their current life-and-death circumstances, Constantine’s patience had been a surprise. He was a contradiction, demanding and hard, yet gentle and understanding. It made her curious about him.
“You must have spent a lot of time out here to know the land so well,” she commented, hoping for a look inside his past.
“I moved in with my grandmother when I was twelve. My grandfather died in Vietnam and she never remarried.” He cut her a sideways look. “My mother died of breast cancer and my father threw himself into his work after her death. He died a year later on an undercover assignment.”
“FBI?”
“Yes.”
“You must have been proud of him to follow in his footsteps.” She and her father hadn’t agreed on a lot of things these past few years, but he’d been her idol growing up. Seemed Constantine had felt the same about his father. She continued, “I went into law because of my father. Of course, I ended up choosing a different direction for my career. I’m sure you read all of that in my file.”
“I did,” he admitted, not appearing uncomfortable with her private details. “Must be awkward to have your ex still working with him.”
Nicole shrugged. “I’ve learned to accept being the outsider.” She fiddled with the paper wrapper around her granola bar. Even her mother acted as if she’d betrayed the family.
“Your sister is going to work with them now, isn’t she?”
“My file has a little of everything, doesn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t want her to but she won’t listen. She wa
nts to be the defense attorney no one can beat and have a paycheck that proves it.” She shifted the conversation back to him. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No,” he said, his tone clipped, as if she’d asked something offensive. Perhaps a sign he was done with the personal talk.
Either way, all this chatter about the darkness hidden in his past, in her past, took her mind back to something he had said right before falling asleep. “Everything doesn’t always work out no matter how hard we try.”
A shadow flashed across his face. “This will,” he said, his gaze locking with hers, that edge of danger she’d seen in him on other occasions igniting like a sudden flame. “I walked away from too many chances to kill that man for us to fail now. I’m getting you to that trial, and you’re going to convict him. I won’t let him walk away.”
Nicole’s eyes went wide. Something about his last words, his promise that Alvarez wouldn’t walk away, bit into her nerve endings. What exactly did that mean? Was he saying he’d kill Alvarez if she failed to convict him?
Before she could reply, a beeper on Constantine’s watch went off and he pushed to his feet. “Time to go.”
She stood, feeling lighter with the prospect of escape from the cave, but no less concerned about his comment. “I’m all for that.”
“Stay here,” he ordered, as he had so many times in the woods. “I need to check the surface for unwanted visitors.” He didn’t wait for an answer; he started up the wall. All the warmth of before had fled. He was cold, calculating, a soldier on a mission.
Constantine was willing to do whatever it took to take down Alvarez—even become a murderer himself. She’d walked the line between right and wrong, and it was a dangerous place to balance. A place that would steal your soul if you let it and she almost had. Nicole realized why Constantine scared her so much. He was walking that line just as she had. He was walking it and she was afraid he’d pull her along with him.
Winning Moves Page 23
