by Marie James
I can’t help the laugh that escapes my throat when he turns on Star Trek Voyager, a jab at my fake ID.
“Is there anything you don’t know about me?” I ask, sarcasm dripping from my tone.
“What you feel like coming on my cock,” he whispers in my ear, only laughing when I clench his thigh as hard as I can with my hand.
“You’re a tease,” I complain.
“I promise to follow through. Jones has gone underground.”
And that’s all it takes to put out the raging fire that’s been burning inside of me since I saw him standing at the counter earlier.
“He missed roll call at his office this morning, and no one at the Bureau has heard from him since Friday night.” Understanding the fear starting to rear its ugly head once again, Wren pulls me closer to his side. “We aren’t able to track his location because he’s dumped his government issued phone and car.”
“Any good news?” I mutter.
Just then the doorbell rings.
“Yeah,” Wren says with a grin as he extracts himself from my side. “In a couple minutes, you’ll no longer be hungry.”
As he makes his way across the room, I try to figure out a way to explain how suddenly I’ve lost my appetite again.
I watch from the sofa as Quinten rolls two familiar suitcases inside, and relief washes over me knowing I won’t have to face the man who touched my undergarments.
Then Ignacio’s smiling face pops around the door frame, his eyes finding mine before even looking for his friend. By the time he winks at me, Wren is already blocking his view.
“Thanks, man.” Wren snaps the Taco Bell bags from his hands, whispering something low on a growl.
Ignacio laughs. Quinten shakes his head. I turn beet red.
Thankfully with Wren standing guard, the guys don’t make it more than a few feet inside. I don’t know how I’d react if I actually had to have a conversation with either of them right now.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Wren says turning in my direction after ushering his friends out the door, “I love that color on your cheeks, but explain to me how you can suck the life out of me through my cock but you get embarrassed with the thought of someone touching your underwear?”
My mouth clamps closed because explaining it would show my hand too soon.
“Is it because he’s a sexy hunk with a Spanish accent?”
I hate that he’s throwing my words right back at me. I was flustered when I uttered them, and it doesn’t seem fair to turn them into ammunition.
“You’re sexier,” I whisper.
“I don’t have an accent, though.” I can tell by his tone that he’s joking, and I love that he’s not getting legitimately upset because I expressed an opinion about his very handsome friend.
“You have magical fingers.”
He looks down at the digits in question before dropping the bags of food on the coffee table. The words take a sexual tone, but my stomach is dying to be filled with all the cheesy, crunchy goodness in those bags.
“The way they fly over a keyboard is awe inspiring.”
He chuckles, taking the hint as he drops down beside me. I go after the Baja Blast first, needing something cold to quench my thirst and take my internal body temperature down a few degrees.
“I’m glad you like my fingers, Captain Janeway.”
I laugh, the sound coming from deep in my gut as he begins pulling days’ worth of meals from the bags.
We eat in companionable silence, grinning at each other as we watch Star Trek. It takes only moments after shoving the last bite of my gordita in my mouth for my eyes to grow heavy. I don’t know how long Wren lets me drool on his shoulder, but eventually he scoops me up and carries me to bed.
I groan in displeasure when my nose finds the scent of fresh clean linens rather than the spicy smell of his skin.
Chapter 27
Wren
“Where is she?” Jude asks, his eyes darting around several of the other guys to look down the hallway.
“Sleeping,” I answer, surprised they’ve been here for ten minutes before someone asked about her.
“In your bed?” Finnegan questions, mirth filling his eyes like he’s not so certain I could seal the deal with any chick.
“Get serious guys.” I give Flynn a look of thanks for saving my ass.
“You better come up with a better plan,” I mutter, returning us back to the original conversation. “Because this shit isn’t going to fly.”
Ignacio chuckles, and no matter how much I know deep down he’d never try to go after my girl, I’m still a little uneasy with him being in the same apartment as her. She wants me. That’s clear as day with the way her eyes light up around me, but I’m still floored by her reaction to him last night. First the words, then the redness in her cheeks. It was unbearable.
The guys watch me as I step away from the counter to pour yet another cup of coffee. I spent half the night tossing and turning, trying to figure out a way to end this shitshow as quickly as possible and the other half going in and out of the guest bedroom to make sure she was okay.
I’m exhausted, and I know she must be feeling the same way. She didn’t shift or lift her head once when I creeped in there last night. Even Simon reacted the first couple of times.
“We’re not saying use her as bait, Wren,” Flynn says, his voice low like he’s trying to coax a scared puppy out from under the porch.
“We’re saying make it look like she’s bait,” Ignacio adds.
“You already set up some of it by using her real name for her plane ticket yesterday. If he’s tracking her like we know he is, then he knows she’s already back here,” Flynn continues.
“Your plan falls apart because she didn’t go home or use her name for a hotel room last night. He doesn’t know she’s here. Don’t you think he’ll be suspicious if two nights later she finally pops up on a manifest somewhere?” I sigh, rubbing my hands over my face, willing my eyes to stop feeling like sandpaper. “He’s too smart for that.”
“He’s desperate,” Finn says. “He won’t be able to resist checking up on any leads.”
“And what keeps him from sending some gun-toting thug like the fucking Russians did with Deacon and Anna a couple of months ago, huh? It’s too fucking dangerous.”
“For who?” Jude snaps. “She’ll be here with you. Not to point out the obvious, but this is what we fucking do, Wren. It’s literally just another day.”
“It’s not just another day. She’s not just another client.”
I pace the length of the kitchen, talking myself out of destroying my personal space. Plus, I don’t want Whitney to wake up in the middle of all of this.
“She is,” Flynn snaps. “She is another client, and I realize you’re close to this and right in the fucking middle of it, but so was Anna. Who was also another fucking client, and you know that we’d give our lives for any fucking one of them. We make that commitment when we sign that contract. That’s why we make sure they’re fucking worth it before we start. We would’ve died for Anna in South America or the Maldives, just like we’d die for Whitney in some shitty hotel on the other side of town if that’s the way it ends up.”
“I want to be there,” I concede, unable to look Flynn in the eyes as he seethes beside me.
“Absolutely not.”
“No way, dude.”
“Fuck no.”
They all chorus their own responses, but they boil down to a resounding no.
“I’m a part of this,” I argue.
“You’ve done your part,” Ignacio says, his fingers tapping on the closed cover of my laptop.
“Let us do ours,” Flynn adds.
“I can’t. I need to be—”
“Wren?”
We all spin around, and suddenly my mind is no longer on arguing to play a part in taking down Jones at a seedy hotel room. All I can focus on is Whitney standing at the end of the hall, hair in tangles around her shoulders. She has an adorable cre
ase on her face and an embarrassed smile on her face. I watch her throat swallow, figuring out that she called my name before she discovered all the guys standing around me.
“Nice pussy,” Ignacio says.
Flynn groans, and Jude chuckles.
My eyes dart to the apex of her thighs, but she’s wearing sleep shorts. They’re not indecent, but the tank top barely holding her tits is another story.
Simon is a happy boy this morning, purring and circling around her legs like he’s finally forgiven her for torturing him for several days.
“I love ginger pussy,” Finn interjects.
Everyone cackles, and even Flynn cracks a smile. I know they’re testing me. They probably took bets and planned this shit out to see who could make me lose my shit first.
“Clothes, Whitney. You’ll wait for me in your room.”
Her eyes widen.
“Oh shit,” Jude mutters. “Hide the knives. Wren’s about to get cut.”
But he’s mistaken because the fire burning in her eyes isn’t anger.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers before she turns around to leave.
The guys all look at me while I watch her plump ass sway down the hallway.
I bite the inside of my cheek to hide my laugh when I turn around to face them again. Jaws are hanging open. Finn is rubbing his eyes like he didn’t just experience what happened.
“Holy shit.”
“Did that just happen?”
“What the actual fuck, man?”
“You said you had no game,” Brooks mutters, his brows creased.
“Yes, sir?” Flynn murmurs, his head shaking a little like he’s utterly confused.
“She’s kinky?” Gaige whispers, more awe than question in his voice. “You lucky fuck.”
“You’re kinky?” Flynn questions, still not coming to terms with what just happened. “I thought computer guys blew their loads the second they saw real tits in person.”
I would step around the counter to punch the guy in the dick, but my cock’s still hard from the little show we all just witnessed.
We haven’t discussed many things, the Yes, Sir response being one of them. It’s not really my thing, or at least I didn’t think it was until those breathy words came out of her mouth. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was taking a little of herself back last night after getting embarrassed at the thought of Ignacio touching her personal things. I look across the kitchen island and glare at him.
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Stay away from her.”
“Me?” He taps his thumb against his chest, but then a slow smile pulls at his lips. “Don’t be mad at me. I can’t help it if your girl is interested in a little Latin lovin’.”
“Torres,” Flynn groans. “Now isn’t the time.”
“It’ll be hard to do your job without a fucking tongue,” I warn. Damn near impossible actually since he’s the interpreter for BBS.
To show his skills, Ignacio lifts his hands and tells me to go fuck myself in sign language.
“He wouldn’t,” Flynn assures me before turning to the demon in the room. “You wouldn’t, right?”
Ignacio straightens. “Never.”
There’s sincerity in his eyes, and deep down I know he wouldn’t, but fuck if I’m not utterly territorial over that woman.
“And that’s two down,” Gaige mutters before turning to place his empty cup in the sink.
“Two?” Brooks asks.
“Him and Deacon, both of them in love and down for the count.”
I stare at Gaige like he’s grown a second head, but I don’t bother opening my mouth to argue with the man. If what I feel for Whitney isn’t love, I don’t know what it is.
“Can we finish this up?” Flynn asks with a sigh. “I need some fucking sleep.”
“That shitty hotel she stayed in the other night is going to be best,” Jude says, switching gears instantly. “It’s off the beaten path, there isn’t much traffic, and people mind their damn business in places like that because they don’t want anyone in theirs.”
“Tonight?” I ask.
“Tomorrow night,” Flynn says. “We need to give the FBI time to get some things set up.”
I nod, leaning in closer as they run through even the minutest detail to make sure the plan goes off without a hitch.
It’s another hour before they file out of my apartment, and I’m grateful for the squeeze of reassurance Ignacio gives my shoulder on the way out.
“Yes, sir?” Flynn says, looking past me down the hall as if it held the explanation for his continued confusion.
The second the door snaps closed, I’m moving. I have a very sexy woman with a lot of explaining to do. The little vixen knew exactly what she was doing putting on that little show in front of my friends.
Chapter 28
Whitney
Silence fills the apartment. I’m not eavesdropping, but the low murmur of guys that could be heard minutes ago has faded away. Simon paws at the bedroom door, anxious to get out and explore, but Wren hasn’t come to me yet. His command was clear.
My nerves are shot, but in the most delicious way this time rather than out of fear.
Yes, Sir?
Where the hell did that come from?
I said it more than once in my dreams last night, and it must’ve been enough to seep into my brain because the two syllables didn’t have any trouble dropping from my lips in front of a handful of other men.
That submission made me feel powerful. Made me want to do anything Wren wanted me to, short of sharing me with any of those guys. I need to make sure he knows that’s one of my hard limits.
“Whitney!” I begin to tremble with the sound of my name being called, but my ass is off the bed, hand reaching for the doorknob in the next breath.
I don’t find him in the living room or in the kitchen, and silence surrounds me, thick enough, I can hear my own ragged intake of breath. Chills of anticipation wash over my skin as I continue my search.
I slow my steps, but he doesn’t call for me again. Once was enough. This is a game we’re playing, and even though I’m on the hunt for him, it doesn’t make me feel any less like the prey.
I creep in the direction of his room, noticing that the door is cracked, but there isn’t a speck of light coming from inside hinting at what could be on the other side. My heart is pounding, a staccato rhythm in my ears as I inch forward. My hand trembles as I use the tip of one finger to push it open.
I’m half afraid he’s going to jump out of the corner and try to scare the shit out of me. He doesn’t, but that doesn’t stop the gasp from escaping when I find him standing in the middle of his room, completely naked, and stroking his very eager cock.
My eyes widen, and he loses his composure for the briefest of seconds, but in an instant the smile that was forming on his perfect lips turns serious once again.
“Come inside,” he growls, and my feet begin to move before the connection can be sent from my ears to my brain. “Do you like my friends seeing the outline of your perfect tits?”
My nipples tighten when his eyes dart to the front of my thin shirt.
“Are you that much of a tease?”
I do my best to keep from clenching my thighs together. I fail, and the heat in his eyes says he knew I would.
“Will you not be satisfied with just my cock?”
My head tilts, and I want to back away. He’s treading very closely to one of my hard limits. Not just the one about sharing me, but this is taking a turn toward humiliation, and that’s not something I’ll handle well.
“Is. My. Cock. Enough?”
“Yes,” I answer, my head nodding slightly.
“Why?”
“Because I’m yours.”
“What’s mine?”
“I am.”
God, I love the possession. All thoughts of wanting to get away fade into the ether.
“What else is mine?”
“My body,” I pant.
“Specifically.”
“My pussy.”
“Whose pussy?”
“Yours. It’s your pussy.” The organ of conversation clenches around nothing, as I wonder if he’s going to be able to restrain himself today, the same way he was able to before. It’ll kill me if this ends without him inside of me.
“Who will I share your pussy with?”
“No one.”
“That’s right, baby. My pussy. Only my pussy.” He drops his hand, and my eyes stay on his cock as the light from the hallway catches the damp tip. “Will you touch my pussy when I’m not around.”
“Y-yes,” I answer truthfully.
“Even when I tell you not to?”
“Yes.”
“Even when it earns you a punishment?”
“Because I want multiple punishments.”
He clears his throat to cover a chuckle, but once again regains his control. I absolutely love seeing that he can’t always be stoic around me. It makes this more tangible, more real, and I’ve never had that before. I long for it on every level.
“Orgasms aren’t the only form of punishment you know.” He steps even closer, near enough I can feel the heat of his body, but he still isn’t touching me. “What if I spank your ass instead?”
“That’ll probably make me come, too.”
He groans, his cock flexing near my stomach.
I want to reach for him, to touch him. My fingers tingle with the necessity to brush his warm skin and soak up his warmth, but somehow, I manage to keep my arms at my sides. The restraint only heightens what’s to come.
“Why are you still wearing clothes?”
My throat seizes. “You haven’t told me to take them off.”
His teeth dig into his lower lip before he speaks again. His eyes trail down the length of me, and it’s as if he can already imagine my nakedness. I feel exposed even though I’m the one standing here dressed when he isn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.
“Do you want me to undress you, or do you want to do it yourself?”
“Wh-Whatever you want.”
“So obedient,” he praises, his thumb traveling the side of my breast. My nipples ache, tits growing heavy with the soft touch. “Unwrap yourself for me.”
