Cocky

by J.C. Valentine

  Everything.

  These phone calls of his were killing her though. Tiny slices, all perfectly made to cut deeper than the last, though she didn’t think he intended them that way.

  He needed her as much as she needed him.

  But it wasn’t time for that yet. This case was taking them exactly where they needed to go, and the bureau was pushing for results. They wanted to close the file on this by month’s end. Sooner if it could be managed. And it just might be feasible.

  The girl they put undercover was doing her job and doing it well. As far as they could tell, the bait—her—had been taken. Now it was just a matter of digging for evidence then storming the castle and slapping on the cuffs.

  Time was of the essence.

  Still, it couldn’t happen fast enough for her liking. Yet, she knew, the very reason she had yet to try to work things out with Tucker was the same reason they might not be able to work anything out at all.

  But this was going to be huge for her career. A career she’d completely derailed when she’d gotten in too deep with the Spartans during an undercover operation of her own a couple years ago. This was her chance—her only chance—to get back what she’d lost.

  Would it be worth the risk? She couldn’t know for sure, but she hoped. Tucker had always been lenient with her, understanding and forgiving to a fault. She hoped his caring nature extended to this too.

  “I’m here,” she finally said, aware that she was crossing a line she herself had put into place. She just couldn’t be quiet anymore.

  Tucker sighed into the phone, his relief palpable despite the distance that divided them. “God, it’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”

  “Fine,” she lied. Talia was anything but fine. She was overworked, stressed the hell out, lonely, and heartbroken. “Just been working a lot.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m glad to hear that, sugar. Sometimes work is all that keeps us going.”

  “How are you?” she asked.

  “Getting by day by day,” he said candidly. “Missing you like crazy.”

  She knew she shouldn’t, but she did anyway. “I miss you too.”

  “Then why don’t you come home. Whatever this is, we can work on it. I’ll do anything, sugar. Anything. It’s just not the same without you here. It’s all…pointless.”

  Talia felt a stab of pain deep in her heart, regret filling her with guilt and despair for everything she was willingly putting them through. “I can’t right now. I have something important I’m working on here.”

  “More important than us?” he asked, his tone changing. Tucker was upset, and rightfully so. She’d basically just told him that her work trumped all.

  “There is no us,” she said, deliberately being cold. If he got too close now, if she allowed him to open the door and step through it, everything up till now would be for nothing.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  “It’s not. I can’t be with you right now.”

  “I know I screwed up, Talia. I’m man enough to admit that, and I want to make it up to you. We were happy, weren’t we?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, unable to lie about that. She’d never felt more alive or had so much purpose than when she’d taken a chance on him. Her, an FBI detective, and him a biker with an ax to grind. Such an unlikely pair, and yet they’d fit together like puzzle pieces.

  “Then why are you running from this? Come home and let’s fix it, together.”

  “Like I said, I have to do something here, then…” She hesitated, not wanting to make promises she couldn’t keep. There was no telling how this case was going to go. There was still a very real possibility that she would lose him completely once everything came to light.

  “Then what?” he asked hopefully.

  “Then maybe,” she finished.

  “Maybe…” he drawled, trying the word on for size. “I can work with maybe. At least it’s not no.”

  Glancing at the clock, Talia realized she had less than an hour until she was supposed to meet with her partner and together they were to meet with their informant. Depending on what she had to say, they would decide how to move forward. She was praying for significant progress.

  “Tucker, I have to go.”

  “Have to or want to?”

  “Have to,” she said, allowing the regret she felt to enter her voice. He needed to know that she was in pain too. She needed him to wait for her.

  “Okay, sugar. You go handle your business. I got some of my own to tend to, too. But, darlin’? Next time I call, you better answer. No more silent treatment, hear?”

  Talia couldn’t stop the spread of her smile. Had he been standing in front of her, she knew that warning would have come with the threat of a solid spanking, whether with his hand or a paddle or some other tool of his choosing, and it excited her. She missed everything about him—his rough hands, his strong, sure, confident touch, the way he commanded her body as if he alone knew the passcode. Please, God, let there still be a future for them.

  “Okay, Tuck,” she promised, her voice soft. She needed to get off the phone before her emotions betrayed her. She refused to cry. Not today. Not tomorrow. Only when she was standing in front of him again would she allow herself to feel it all, to unleash it all. Only then would she allow herself to crumble, because Tucker Abrams would never let her fall.

  “Love you, sugar,” he said, and before Talia had a second to consider whether or not she’d say it back, he ended the call.

  Staring at the phone in her head, she allowed herself exactly one minute to breathe and calm her frayed nerves. Then Talia got up, put on her shoes, and walked out the door.

  ***

  These meetings sucked, but when you got the kind of deal she was offered, you didn’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter.

  Rena sat in the passenger seat of the blacked-out Cadillac, one agent on her left occupying the driver’s seat, and one in the back, hovering over her shoulder and hanging on every word. Both were armed, and she was certain they hadn’t come alone.

  The Feds were sneaky like that. They always had a Plan B to a Plan A and a Plan C to a Plan B. The moment she’d signed on with them to do this gig, she’d basically signed her rights away.

  Not that she was losing much. She wasn’t a free agent with or without them, but with any luck, after all was said and done, she would have a clean record and a clear path ahead. It would be the first time ever in her life that she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder, worry about her next step, or have her past dogging her every move.

  Being a felon had a way of ruining every good thing you tried to do in life. She couldn’t even get a decent job or apartment because she’d gotten into so much trouble.

  It was just that trouble was so easy to find, and she enjoyed the adrenaline rush a little too much to quit.

  But she was an adult now, and she wasn’t getting any younger. There came a point in everyone’s life that living off the land, constantly being on the move, and generally leading a nomadic life got old and tiring. It still made her shudder to think it, but she kinda wanted to be like her big sister, who had a stable life with actual things to her name—things that were worth something. Even if she didn’t have a lot, at least she had a little.

  It was far more than Rena had to show for her years.

  “I’ve spent countless hours with him, but he’s hard to pin down. He won’t let me get close enough to get anything solid.”

  “Then you have to make him get closer,” the driver, Agent McKinnon she thought her name was, said with an edge to her voice that made Rena’s hackles flare.

  “There is no making that man do anything. He’s a shot caller, not a pussy pushover,” Rena informed her, returning her ever-so-fake-polite attitude with a strained smile. “Manuel’s lips are sealed.”

  “He’s a man. Use what God gave you. Given enough time, men always fold,” said the agent in the back who looked like she’d probably nev
er even seen a man naked, let alone wanted to.

  “I have. He’s not much of a talker if you know what I mean.” Manuel was a fucker. He opened his pants and his bed, but those delicious lips were sealed tight as a bank vault. Rena knew instinctively that he would never reveal his hand, not even to his closest confidants, of which she was almost certain didn’t exist.

  “Look, Miss Grace, the deal is you get us what we need to take this guy down, and we scrub your record clean. He spends the rest of his life behind bars, and you spend yours doing whatever the hell you want not behind bars. Need I remind you what will happen if you don’t follow through—”

  “You don’t have to remind me of shit,” Rena cut her off, then added respectfully, “Agent McKinnon. But you also can’t expect miracles. You’re asking me to do the impossible, so unless God himself comes down here and shines a golden light on the answers, I can’t promise you a damn thing.”

  “I don’t see you putting in the effort—”

  “I don’t see either of you fucking a goddamn murderer!” she bellowed. Realizing she was losing her cool, Rena closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I’m doing what I can, what you asked, and what your people have been unable to pull off, and might I remind you that you all have access to a shit load more resources than I do. I’m not a freakin’ miracle worker, but I am doing my best.”

  All she knew was they had better not even think about not delivering on their promises after she put her very life in danger—results or not.

  “You’re right, Miss Grace,” McKinnon agreed. Her partner in the back gasped, then shut her trap, clearly not agreeing but refraining from laying out her reservations in front of the client.

  Rena wanted to laugh.

  “As long as you continue to do what we ask and show up to these meetings, the deal is still on. But I have to stress to you the importance of this investigation. Manuel Contreras is as dangerous as they come. He’s a viper ready to strike. All he needs is a target.”

  Rena nodded. She’d heard all of this before. Manuel was some big-time arms dealer. He’d killed people. He was looking to expand. He had deep ties with some mafia south of the border. She had to admit, she wasn’t feeling the scary vibes they wanted her to. Manuel was just a man with a lot of money and power, from what she could tell. If he was into some crazy shit, he was keeping a tight lid on it. And she had the notion that he wouldn’t allow any of his business to pour over into his personal life.

  “I get it, I get it,” she said, not caring to hear the same diatribe again. “He’s a bad guy.”

  McKinnon’s expression pinched as she regarded Rena. “This is serious. I’ve been where you’re at, and it didn’t go as planned. Luckily for me, things turned out okay. This situation you’re in now is similar, but the dangers are far greater. You have to protect yourself. Make sure that you don’t get attached. I know we’re asking a lot, but it’s imperative that you keep that dividing line in your head intact.”

  “I won’t have any trouble with that,” she assured her. It might sound cocky, but Rena wasn’t easily influenced. She’d always been in control of her own mind, never doing anything that she didn’t want to do. Manuel was bad news, yes, but he was also fun to hang with. She’d have a little fun while she conducted her business, then she would be on her merry way.

  What could go wrong?

  sixteen

  “You have moves, Mr. Hunter,” Angel said with an affectionate pat on his tight ass.

  Kade was opening the door to her apartment with her keys, and he laughed at her playfulness. “You like my moves, huh?”

  “I’d like to see more of them if you know what I mean,” she said, trying to lean in to breathe her words seductively in his ear, only to fall forward instead.

  “Whoa there, Grace,” he said, catching her before she could make a total fool of herself. “I think you’re a bit over your limit tonight. Let’s get you to bed.”

  “It’s these stupid floors,” she complained as she let him lead her back to her bedroom. “They’re so uneven. They’re a deathtrap.”

  “They’re not uneven, Mouse. You’re just drunk.”

  “Pish,” she scoffed, then hiccupped and burped at the same time. “Excuse me,” she apologized.

  Shaking his head, Kade dragged her into the bedroom and over to the bed, pushing her down onto her back then picking up each foot to remove her shoes. “You’re cute, even when you’re sloppy.”

  “Sloppy?” she asked, taking offense. “There’s nothing sloppy about me.”

  He cast her a look, one eyebrow raised, then directed his stare to her chest. When Angel looked down, she giggled.

  “Oops! How did that happen?” Stuffing her exposed boob back into the strapless bra, she scolded, “You girls stay in there until you’re told to come out. I don’t want to hear another peep.”

  Kade set her feet down then removed his own shoes, followed by his jeans, and crawled up onto the bed beside her, his expression full of amusement. “You need sleep, babe.”

  “What I need,” she purred, rolling onto her side to face him and hitching her leg over his hip, “is good lovin’. Know anyone here who can give it to me?”

  Grazing her lips with his, he said, “I don’t do drunk girls, Mouse. Even if they are my girlfriend.”

  “I’m your girlfriend?” she asked, surprised by the sudden and very definite sounding claim.

  “I know we agreed to a trial basis, but last time I checked, I haven’t turned into a toad.”

  “That’s true…” she mused with a small smile.

  “So since I’ve held up my end of the bargain… You’re mine, Mouse. Only if you want to be, but I’ll force ya if I have to,” he amended with a wink.

  She didn’t take even a second to think about it. “You don’t have to force me to do anything, baby,” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair. Wow, but he was just so handsome and sexy—definitely not of the amphibian variety. She could devour him…and she would. Right now.

  Shimmying down the bed, she had only one destination in mind.

  Rolling over onto his back, Kade clasped his hands behind his head and in that husky, sex-filled voice asked, “Whatcha doin’, Mouse?”

  Hooking her fingers in the waistband of his body-hugging briefs that revealed his very large erection, she slowly peeled back the cotton, her mouth salivating. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Getting into trouble.”

  She smirked as she freed his cock from its fabric prison and it sprang to attention in front of her face. “I just want a little taste.”

  “Just a little?”

  “Or a lot,” she purred, then lunged, swallowing his thick member all the way to the back of her throat in one move.

  They both moaned, but Angel’s was far from anything pleasurable. Her eagerness to please had backfired in a big way, and she’s inadvertently hit a gag reflex that normally, she’d be able to control. Instead of giving him pleasure, Angel gave Kade a warm bath.

  “Jesus Christ!” Kade leaped up, his hands hitting her shoulders and shoving her back so fast, Angel fell on her ass onto the floor. The vomit kept coming, until Angel was dry heaving, sitting in a pool of her own sick, and crying from sheer embarrassment.

  This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. But it was exactly how she would expect it to happen because luck was never on her side. While other girls had drunken sex and just woke up with a hangover and smeared makeup, of course Angel would puke on her date. She should have expected as much.

  Kade had shot out of the room like a bullet sometime between her barfing and crying, which only made her cry more, assuming he’d been so disgusted that he’d left. But to her surprise, a bucket and towels dropped down onto the floor beside her, and the next thing she knew, he was crouching down in front of her, a soft look in his eyes.

  “Arms up, Mouse. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Filled with shock, Angel could only do as she was told, follow
ing his directions as he issued them. He wore a permanent grimace as he peeled her clothes off over her head and used the towels to clean the worst of the mess from her body before scooping her into his arms and carrying her into the bathroom where they both stepped into the shower.

  Kade washed her from head to toe with gentle hands unbecoming of a man who carried himself with the kind of rigidity he did. It was another layer that Angel couldn’t help but take notice of, one that lent weight to the feeling of comfort and peace and safety she had since the day he caught her eye and chose her to be his.

  She couldn’t help feeling lucky to know him. What she was trying to keep as a simple relationship of give and take was becoming something so much deeper than she had anticipated. She just hoped it wasn’t one-sided. Aside from his words, the way he was caring for her suggested that maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this man who was so mysterious and closed-off in his daily life was feeling some of the same things she was.

  Could Kade Hunter be falling in love with her?

  Maybe it was a bit of a leap, but as Angel met his gentle gaze, she couldn’t stop herself from hoping.

  After their shower, Kade wrapped her up in a warm, fresh towel and carried her back to the bed, tucking her in and brushing her hair back from her face before kissing her lightly on her forehead and returning to the scene of the crime to finish cleaning up.

  Angel felt the thread of embarrassment and humiliation at what had happened grow thicker as he scoured the carpet and ran the garbage out, opened the windows and sprayed air freshener, but it eventually gave way to the deepening exhaustion that was quickly pulling her under.

  She slept more soundly than she had in ages, no worries or past regrets or guilt harassing her as they normally did. And when she woke up in Kade’s arms, not even the splitting headache bludgeoning her brain could dampen the feelings of gratefulness and peace and adoration she felt just being beside him.

  He didn’t stay long though, which was disappointing. As soon as the sun rose fully, he fetched her aspirin, a glass of tepid water, and whipped up a couple of scrambled eggs and toast and left it all on the bedside table. With a parting kiss—again on the forehead—he was out the door.