by Alison Bliss
Naturally, I wanted to smooth things over, but I doubted he’d give me the chance. He made it unmistakably clear he wanted nothing to do with me. Maybe he was cranky and sleep deprived. Or maybe he didn’t have to pretend anymore. Whatever it was, it left me scratching my head, but I refused to be interested in a guy who wasn’t interested in me. Well, it sounded good, anyway.
I don’t know if the long, traumatic night finally caught up with me, or if the oxygen deprivation had something to do with it, but I must’ve passed out. When I opened my eyes again, the sun had already gone down. If the clock next to the bed was correct, then I had spent the entire day unconscious.
Jake sat across the room in a chair with his laptop, notebook, and a pen. He didn’t look up. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, hoping he wouldn’t talk to me.
“I know you’re awake.”
Crap.
Jake clicked his pen, and I heard him set it down. “We need to talk.”
I opened my eyes to see him moving toward the bed with a masculine saunter. “Talk about what?”
“You know what.”
I avoided making eye contact, but knew he watched me. His laser-sharp stare sliced into me with surgical precision. It was nerve-racking, though I craved his attention. The problem with Jake was that he was addictive. I don’t know why I felt so strongly for a guy I barely knew, but I desperately wanted to quit him cold turkey. I needed a distraction until he left. Then, problem solved.
I shook my head and played stupid. “You have to be more specific.”
“We need to talk about you kissing me this morning.”
“No, we don’t,” I said, though I meant I’d rather gouge out my eyes with a dull pencil.
He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re impulsive…and stubborn…and you don’t think things through…and I—”
“I don’t need you to point out anything. I’m not oblivious to my flaws.”
“You’re actually admitting you have some?”
“Jerk.”
He grinned. “If I’m such a jerk, then why throw yourself at me?”
We both went silent. My eyes fastened to his, and I realized we were sizing each other up. I began to sweat. “Don’t worry,” I said, my voice growing more hostile. “I’ve regretted that decision ever since. It won’t happen again.”
He shook his head and sat next to me. “You know what your problem is? You’re mad because you kissed me, and I didn’t fall over with my dick hard.”
My nostrils flared, and I saw red. “Funny, I don’t recall your dick having any problems getting hard the other times.”
“You know what? I was wrong. You don’t need sex. You need a fucking Valium.”
“Who said anything about sex? You’re quite presumptuous. It was just a kiss, nothing more. No offer of anything else.”
Jake grinned. “Oh, you made an offer all right, whether you admit it or not. Now you’re mad because I didn’t take you up on it.”
My head spun, and my heart pounded. What he said was true, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Better hope no one comes for me and accidentally shoots you between the eyes. It might puncture your ego and let all of the swelling out of your head.”
“Excuse me for being a gentleman. I’m not a guy who takes advantage of someone in an emotionally vulnerable state.”
“Laaaame.”
“What’s lame?”
“You are. And stupid. That’s your idiotic attempt at shifting the responsibility onto me. Gentleman, my ass. You weren’t such a gentleman in the club, either. So don’t think for one second I’m buying it.” Jake sat there stewing in his own juices. I had pushed his buttons, rendering him speechless. “Do you know what bothered you about that kiss?” I asked, not waiting for him to answer. “You obviously wanted it to lead to something more.”
“Jesus Christ, woman! We don’t have to have sex. There’s enough damn friction between us to last a lifetime.”
“What’s wrong? Afraid you might enjoy it?”
“It’s sex. Of course, I’d enjoy it. That’s why it can’t happen.” Jake held my gaze. I recognized a battle of wills when I saw one. Not only that, but he was losing. That’s why his feathers were ruffled. “Sex is intimate and has a psychological element to it,” he added.
“Take the intimacy out of the equation.”
“I can’t,” he said, giving me a contemplative look. “You know I’m leaving tomorrow. That leaves a moral and ethical dilemma to consider.”
“You said it yourself, Jake…I know what this is. It’s been clearly stated. There aren’t going to be any issues to air out later. No strings attached. Just keep it casual.”
Jeez. Either I was twisted, or my brain had taken a leave of absence. Everything coming out of my mouth was bullshit. I knew it, but I couldn’t stop the flow. I’d relish in the moment and suffer the consequences later. And, as bad as I had it for him, there would be some definite consequences.
I didn’t want him to leave. When my parents died, I refused to say good-bye to anyone else. Jake would be my first good-bye after all these years. He’d leave, and I’d be alone. It was a vicious circle.
With no warning, Jake grabbed me by the back of my neck and covered my mouth with his. I didn’t hesitate to kiss him back as he dipped his tongue inside and swirled it in time with mine. His warm hand found its way under my shirt, cupping my breast, rubbing my nipple between his fingers.
I pulled at Jake’s shirt until he released me long enough to help jerk it over his head. He tossed it to the floor and yanked mine off as well. Then, he pushed me back onto the bed, sliding his hands over me. He slipped a nipple in between his teeth and gently tugged on it. Pleasure raced through my body in surges, making me arc farther into his awaiting mouth.
My nether region was on fire. The sensations were well worth surrendering to, but I’d pay dearly when it came time for him to leave. This was all we would have. One night together.
“Do you have a condom?”
“The FBI taught me to always be prepared,” he said, grinning.
I smiled back. “Even when it’s meaningless sex?”
His face turned serious. “I don’t do meaningless sex.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t have time to respond before his hand found its way inside my pants and pushed them down. I kicked them off my feet as Jake hovered over me, staring down the length of my body. He wasn’t moving anymore. One minute, he was unbuttoning his pants, and the next, he was frozen in time.
“Okay, what the fuck is that?” he asked.
Chapter Four
I glanced down to see what I had missed. “Oh, shit! Well, it’s…uh…”
Jake’s eyes met mine. “Did aliens invade your pants and leave crop circles in their wake?”
Heat filled my face. “It’s a botched trim job. I forgot about it. If it’s a problem, then we can stop…” I tried to roll out from under him, but he clamped his hand on my shoulder and held me there.
“I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” he reminded me. “It’s my duty to investigate this, er…sighting…to the best of my ability.” He grinned.
Wiseass.
“Stay here,” Jake said. “I’ll be back.”
“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad.”
Once again, his eyes flitted down and back up. “No, but it isn’t that good, either.”
“Then don’t bother.” I tried to nudge him off me, but he didn’t budge.
He lowered his mouth to mine, kissed me hungrily, and then traced his tongue to my ear. “I’m just getting a condom,” he whispered, his voice aching with desire. “Rules of Protection, right?”
“Oh,” was all I said as he pushed himself off me.
He stood at the end of the bed and looked me over again, shaking his head with a smirk. His pants were undone, hanging loosely onto his waist, and the black boxer briefs outlined his raging hard-on.
Hmmm. Impressive.
&nbs
p; Jake watched me lick my lips. “Hold that thought,” he said, then stepped out of the room. Several minutes went by before he returned—with his pants buttoned. He snatched my clothes from the floor and threw them at me. “Get dressed,” he ordered.
“What’s wrong?”
Jake pulled his T-shirt on. “We’ve got company.”
My first thoughts were that our escorts had returned to check on us, or maybe my babysitters had arrived early. Then Jake grabbed his gun off the table and stuffed an extra clip into his back pocket. I threw my clothes on faster than he had pulled them off me.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but they aren’t FBI or U.S. Marshals.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they’re walking the perimeter of the house, looking through windows,” Jake said in a low voice. “Any agent would know doing something stupid like that would get them shot.”
“Are you going to call in backup?”
He shook his head. “Too far away. I need to concentrate on getting you out of here alive first.”
“Are we safe as long as we stay inside?”
“We’re sitting ducks. If we can get to the Explorer in the garage, then we’ll make a run for it. If nothing else, I’ll pick them off one by one.”
“What if they pick you off first?”
He stared at me point-blank for a moment. Though he didn’t say the words, I read his thoughts. Then we’ll both be dead.
“Jesus,” I said with exasperation. “Your crime prevention program sucks!”
Jake clamped his hand around my wrist, pulled me to the bedroom door, and peeked down the dark hallway. He gestured for me to stay quiet as he yanked me into the hall, keeping me behind him. As we got near the stairs, Jake lowered into a crouch, so I did the same. He looked around constantly. I leaned into his back, crowding him, and tried to look over his shoulder.
“Any sign of trouble, I want you to run to the garage and take the vehicle,” he whispered. “Don’t wait for me. You understand?”
I nodded, though I knew I wouldn’t leave him behind. I didn’t want to be left completely defenseless. And I didn’t want Jake to die.
We flattened ourselves against the wall and tiptoed down the stairs. Jake peeked around the corner, then motioned for me to follow. We went through the dining room and into the kitchen, where the door to the garage was located.
As we rounded the corner, a gun became visible. A man in the kitchen pulled his weapon up to shoot us. Jake reacted with speed, grabbing the gun and pointing it away from us as the gunshot rang out. The bullet went wild, ricocheting off the stainless steel refrigerator and embedding into the tile over the kitchen sink. They each fought for control of the gun, bumping into me and knocking me backward onto my butt as the man aimlessly fired again.
I’d hit my lower back on the counter and tweaked my ankle as I went down but ignored the pain. I crawled around the island to the other side, ducking my head. I could no longer see what was happening.
Both men breathed heavily, grunting and fighting, until another round fired and someone landed with a thud on the kitchen floor. I was afraid to look, afraid of what I might find if I did look. What if Jake was the one who…? No, I couldn’t finish the thought. It wasn’t Jake. It couldn’t be.
I scrambled to my feet. Jake stood over an unknown man slumped on the floor near the island. A dark red stain on his chest grew larger by the second, like a rose blooming in the midday sun. Still alive, his eyes were open. He gurgled frothy-looking blood from his mouth.
Jake barely glanced at me when he lifted his gun and pointed it at my head. Surprised by the quick movement, I didn’t have time to flinch. He pulled the trigger, and a shot zinged past my ear. A loud crash came from behind me. I spun around with wide eyes to see a man lying on the floor with a knife in his hand and a bullet hole in his head.
Gunfire erupted through the kitchen windows, and Jake lunged for me, knocking me back to the floor. In a split second, our safe house had turned into a house of horrors, a dire situation filled with incalculable risks. He covered my head with my face turned toward the dead man. I got an up-close view of the bullet hole, which made me gag.
Once the shooting stopped, Jake ran for the nearest window, keeping himself to the side and peering out. I rolled away from the corpse.
“There must’ve been only three of them,” Jake said. “Someone jumped into a car and is driving away.” Jake walked over and checked on the man with the chest wound. “He’s dead, damn it!”
“That’s a bad thing?” I asked weakly, having a hard time finding my voice.
“It is when you need to question someone. Dead people have a tendency not to answer.”
I kept my eyes on the window. “Is he coming back?”
“Doesn’t matter. We aren’t staying to find out. Your location’s been compromised, so my main concern is getting you out of here. I’ll go upstairs with you and stand guard while you throw some things in a bag. You’ve got two minutes.”
“Two minutes? That’s not enough—”
“That’s all you’re getting. Take it or leave it,” he said, walking up the stairs ahead of me with his gun still in hand. I marched after him, making a mental list of everything I should grab.
Jake checked out the room before he relaxed a bit, but I ran back and forth trying to fit everything into a suitcase. It was hard to do with shaky hands. He grabbed his laptop from the desk and threw it into the bag as well. Next, we visited his room and did the same with his limited amount of clothing.
Then, cautiously, Jake led me down the stairs and into the kitchen. I don’t know why I was surprised to see the two dead men still lying on the floor. I mean, where were they going to go? I guess it’s because, in the horror movies, the bodies are never in the same spot as before. And this situation was as creepy as any thriller.
Jake surveyed the garage first, allowing me to enter after he deemed it safe. I tried to open the passenger door on the blue Ford Explorer, but he grabbed my hand to stop me. I watched as he slipped under the vehicle for a few seconds. Then he slid back out and popped open the hood.
“We don’t have time for an oil change,” I said with sarcastic frustration.
He closed the hood. “I was looking for a bomb,” he said, his tone cavalier, as if it was an everyday thing.
“A what?”
“Don’t worry. There isn’t one.” He grabbed the suitcase and chucked it into the backseat. Then he walked around to the driver’s side. “Get in.”
“No.”
He lowered his gaze to look through the car windows at me. “Emily, get in.”
“No fucking way! I’m not getting into a car that might blow up.”
“That’s why I checked. It’s not going to blow up. Now get in.”
I stood there, still not moving. Jake sighed and marched back around the front of the vehicle. “This is the last time I ask you nicely,” he threatened.
“You’re insane if you think—”
He snatched me up by my arm, opened the car door, and then manhandled me into the front passenger seat, slamming the door closed. Jake muttered expletives and shook his head as he walked back around to the driver’s door. He got in and ripped the GPS off the dash, tossing it out the window.
I shook my head with disgust. “Feel better now, you big baby?”
“Tracking device,” he explained.
When he cranked the Explorer, I nearly jumped out of my seat, waiting for an explosion that didn’t happen. Then he pulled out of the garage, and I slid down in my seat, waiting for the stray bullet that didn’t come. By the time we got to the highway, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to die. At least not tonight.
“Why haven’t you called this in?”
“Because.”
“Generous with words, aren’t you? Care to elaborate?”
Jake glanced over at me. “Nope.”
“Well, then at least tell me where we’re going.”
“I need to hide you somewhere safe.”
“And where’s that?”
“I don’t know yet.” He shook his head, as if contemplating something, then blew out a breath. “Shit.”
“Something wrong?”
“I know somewhere I can take you. No one will find you there.”
“Yeah, you said the same thing about the other place,” I reminded him.
“It was safe, but things changed. I promise you, Emily, I don’t make the same mistake twice. Once we get a few hours down the road, I’ll need to stop.”
“Wait, aren’t you going to rename me?”
“The only identification you have is for Emily Foster. So, no, I’m not going to rename you. You aren’t a pet turtle.”
…
“Are you sure we’re safe here?”
“We won’t stay long. I need to check a few things on my laptop and make some phone calls. You can get some rest, if you want.”
I peered around the room, wrinkling my nose. “If you wanted me to actually use the bed, then you should’ve chosen a more suitable motel.”
Jake shrugged. “Nothing wrong with this one. It’s functional.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind bedbugs and pubic lice,” I said, glancing at the yellowed walls, dingy carpet, and stained comforter.
Jake didn’t say anything as he opened his laptop.
“I guess I’ll go rinse off, though I’ll probably end up with fungus on my feet afterward,” I said.
“Don’t lock the door.”
I could’ve taken his comment to mean he’d be joining me, but since he didn’t look up, I figured I was on my own. Probably a good thing, since I couldn’t imagine the bathroom being any more hygienic than the rest of the room. I didn’t want an infected vagina any more than he probably wanted a sore on his dick.
I hurried into the shower…then hurried right back out. It was as disgusting as I’d imagined. Hardened soap scum coated the walls, rust stains encompassed the drain, and there were black, curly hairs in the bottom of the tub, none of which belonged to me. Instead of bathing, I used one of the washcloths—though it smelled funny—and sponged myself off at the sink. It took longer, but was more sanitary. Barely.
