by Mandy Harbin
She was dying. This was so good she knew she wouldn’t survive him eating her. Then he shoved one finger into her pussy, and she had to redefine the definition of dying. Her pussy latched on to that lone finger, hoping it’d take up residence and never leave.
“God, you’re fucking tight.”
She couldn’t hold out. She felt fire lick her spine as her pussy fluttered around his finger in anticipation of the orgasm that was imminent.
“Oh God.” She didn’t want this to end, but she couldn’t take any more. “I’m coming,” she yelled as he fucked her with his finger and sucked her clit into his mouth again.
She rode out her climax until she was utterly spent. Then he eased his finger from her and placed a chaste kiss atop her mound. Her eyes were shut, her arm thrown over her face. She was panting when he shifted, so she peeked to see him fumbling with his nightstand drawer. He pulled a foil packet and donned the condom in what had to be some kind of record. He hovered over her, lifting her leg, his cock poised at her entrance. He eased in, but she didn’t want easy. She grabbed his ass and pulled him to her, forcing him to thrust harder.
“No, baby. Let me take you slowly. At least until I get in.”
She thrashed her head on the pillow, enduring the agony of his slow possession.
“Ahh, you’re so tight,” he breathed. “You’re like a vise, squeezing the life out of me.”
“Hurry, please. Please!” she begged. She didn’t care if she sounded desperate. She just wanted him in already. She pulled him to her on his next thrust, forcing him in halfway.
“Fuck, Xan.” His hips bucked, seemingly involuntarily as he buried himself to the hilt.
She screamed and clutched his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin. His lips sought hers in a powerful kiss as he fucked her hard. She was beyond understanding sensations. He was so big and hard that the pleasure bordered on pain, but she met him thrust for thrust, seeking the deepest contact possible.
Out of nowhere, she climaxed again, screaming into his mouth. He grabbed her ass and angled her differently, pounding into her almost recklessly. His lips ripped from hers as his head fell back and he roared his release.
They held each other, bodies sweating, hers shaking. She tingled everywhere, so much so that her lips felt numb. She didn’t think she could speak even if she wanted to, which she didn’t right at this moment. He eased back, staring down at her. His eyes were soft as he caressed her face, and she realized she could get used to having him around.
If only she could tell him her secrets and trust him with her life, but she knew that would never happen. Still, she reached up and traced the bruises on his face, feeling him lean into her touch. But then he sighed and pulled free, groaning at the drag of flesh against latex-covered flesh. He left the room to dispose of the condom, and Xan wondered what she was supposed to do now. It wasn’t as if she did this. Ever. She didn’t know the protocol once the deed was done. Thanks for the fuck? See you around? Neither option sounded good. At least she had a reason to go. It wasn’t as if she could leave her son at home overnight. Well, technically she could if they were a normal family, and she was comfortable with the idea of spending the night with a man, but neither scenario applied, so she wasn’t going to stay.
He strolled back in, the softness of his eyes gone, and she got a sickening feeling. She didn’t resist the urge to pull the sheet over her, covering her nakedness, her vulnerability.
“This shouldn’t have happened. You should leave,” he said with no emotion, staring right into her eyes.
Humiliation washed over her. She had wanted to leave, but not like this. Oh God, not like this. It was all she could do to leave his house without crying in front of him.
She wasn’t as lucky hiding her shame.
Chapter Seven
Brody revved up his motorcycle as he pulled out of his driveway to go to Gage’s house the following morning. He didn’t sleep worth a shit last night. After tossing Xan out, his fucking conscience ate away at him until all he could do was replay the entire encounter.
He didn’t know what it was about her, but she got to him, dug deep and touched him in places no other person—let alone, woman—had ever before. After getting the hottest blowjob he’d ever received, he’d tasted and sank into the sweetest pussy he’d ever experienced. She’d been timid at first, as if she weren’t sure she wanted to fuck him, but her body had responded with intense want that his body refused to ignore. And she’d been tight, so fucking tight that he believed her about her apparent sexual dry spell. How long she’d gone without taking a man, he didn’t even want to guess. One the one hand, he felt elated that she’d let him be the one to end it for her. On the other hand, he felt paranoid. That paranoia drove him to be the biggest asshole he could be and kick her out.
He felt connected to her and so fiercely protective that it shamed him to push her away like he had. It’d gone against his basic instinct to do it, but he knew he had no other choice. He knew her from somewhere, and they both had questionable pasts they wanted left buried. He needed to stay on the ball and not get distracted again. Having her hate him hurt like hell, but it was better than making either of them face something that should stay buried.
He pulled into Gage’s driveway and killed the engine. He stalked up the stairs and banged on the door. It didn’t take long for Gage to answer.
“Dude, what the fuck? It’s not even seven yet.” His curly brown hair was mussed and hazel eyes narrowed as he stepped aside to let Brody in.
“Didn’t take you long to get the door. You must’ve been up already.” He could smell the coffee from where he was standing, which was a good sign Gage had either already been up or had set the coffee, expecting Brody to show up early.
“I’m a light sleeper, though I wouldn’t have to be by the way you were beatin’ down my door,” he growled, stomping off to the kitchen. “You should drive your truck more. It’s a hell of a lot quieter too.”
“Don’t knock the hog,” Brody said, grabbing a cup and pouring some coffee. “Did you have any luck finding anything out last night?”
Gage elbowed him away from the coffeepot to fix his own cup, then sat at the table. Brody sat across from him, toying with his cup as he watched the other man, waiting for his answer.
“Yeah.” He shook his head as he sipped. “You’re not gonna like it, either.”
“Well, don’t beat around the fuckin’ bush. Spit it out.”
“I called in some favors with some of our FBI contacts. Seems our little Miss Bradley got herself into some trouble with her ex-husband.”
Brody suppressed a growl. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know.”
“He had a friend. On the inside. Someone either with the FBI or someone close enough to an agent to tip him off. I’m bettin’ a dirty agent myself.”
“Shit,” Brody breathed. “That could explain why her husband attacked her. It’s amazing she got out alive.”
Gage shook his head. “He shot her pointblank in the head. He had no intention of her gettin’ away.”
Brody couldn’t stop the panic building in him. She could’ve already been killed, and she wasn’t safe now. “We need to find that dirty agent. He could still be with the bureau.”
“Agreed. I’m looking into it. I do know her handler is Jack Parsons. He took over after Dave Simmons retired.”
“How long has Parsons been her agent?”
“About ten years from what I’ve gathered. Simmons handled her around the time of the trial and got her settled with her first identity. He retired about two years later.”
Brody finished his coffee and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hands on his face. This wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start. “If Parsons wanted her dead, he could’ve done it by now. He’s had ten years to make it happen.”
“True, but if he’s working for Collins, his assignment could be to keep tabs on her, so Marco could do the deed himself.”
“But why? Why not ic
e her and be done with it? She’s the reason he’s in jail.”
“I don’t know, man. The kid maybe?”
Shit. That was possible. “Okay, but why did Simmons retire? Maybe he was the one on the take and got out when Collins got sent away.”
Gage leaned into the table, pointing his finger. “That’s a good theory, but I also found out that when she went to the FBI, they were salivating so much at the idea of taking down Collins that they put a mess of agents on her case. It could’ve been any of them.”
That still wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was more than what he had. “Okay. You find out what you can about the agents assigned to her case before he attacked her. I think we’re dealing with an agent who had earlier contact with her. But Parsons and Simmons ain’t in the clear. One of ’em could’ve been assigned to her case before or close enough to the case to push for reassignment after her attack. I’ll check them out.”
Gage eyed him, and Brody didn’t like that look. “Why are you doin’ this, man? You’re supposed to tail her, befriend her. You don’t have to go diggin’ in her past to do that.”
What could Brody tell him? That he was concerned about her safety? Not gonna happen. That he needed the distraction? No way. “We’re supposed to protect her. Knowledge is power and all that.” He shrugged as he stood and headed for the door.
“I get that, but, umm, I think we should keep this little research to ourselves.”
Brody turned, facing him. “Why?”
“Because I think you have a thing for her, and Colonel will go ape-shit crazy if he discovers you’re packin’ wood for her.”
“I don’t have a fuckin’ thing for her.” Uh-oh, he said that just a little too quickly to be believable. And Gage smiled. Fuck.
“I know all about denying feelings.” Something dark, haunted crossed his eyes but was gone just as quickly. “You can’t bullshit me, Brutus. I won’t rat you out. But I think we need to keep quiet about this. At least until we find somethin’ concrete that Colonel could use or go to his contacts with.”
He had a point. Besides, he really didn’t want the other guys knowing…thinking he had a thing for Xan. If they found something useful, they’d pull in the other guys. “Fine. Er, thanks.” He stuck his hand out and Gage shook it.
“Just doin’ my job, man. Just doin’ my job.”
* * * * *
Xan bustled around the doctor’s office all day, trying to keep her mind on work and off one sorry-ass mechanic. Oh no, he wasn’t a Viking to her anymore. He was a jackass. Or an asshole. Or, or…ugh! He didn’t even deserve the brain power she was exerting to come up with terms, that sorry son of ass-cheese.
What the hell had happened yesterday? She’d gone to his house to tell him off, and she’d ended up getting him off instead. Yeah, real smooth, idiot. And what did she get for her trouble? A swift kick in the rear. He practically tossed her out of his warm bed and into the cold. Okay, so it was ninety degrees last night, but it was the principle, damn it. She had never felt more mortified in all her life. He’d treated her like a paid whore, but at least hookers understood the score—and actually got something for their troubles. Plus, there was no love lost once the deed was done and they parted their bodies. No, she wasn’t even treated as nicely as that. No date beforehand and no cuddling after. She got shafted all around.
But wasn’t that what she wanted? Once she realized it was going to happen, she knew she couldn’t allow a repeat. But she hadn’t expected him to treat her so shitty right after. Her pussy was still practically fluttering with after-spasms when he ordered her out. No matter what she thought she wanted, having him treat her the way he had hurt her more than she could’ve imagined.
Thankfully, she hadn’t cried in front of him, but that’d been a monumental feat. The floodgates opened before she’d even pulled out of his driveway. She was so upset she couldn’t drive straight home and face her son, so she’d driven around town until the waterworks had dried enough for her to make a hasty entrance and dart into her room.
Twelve years, three months, four days. Last night, she’d counted the time since her last sexual encounter. She would’ve counted the hours and minutes too, if she’d looked at the clock.
And for what? A wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am encounter. Only she hadn’t gotten a thank you. Or a compliment of any kind. She didn’t need him to stroke her ego—she knew it’d been a long time since she’d had sex and would be rusty—but demanding she leave? That was low. Lower than low. And she felt like scum, dirty.
She stormed out of the office and was still brewing on her drive home after work. She pulled into her driveway and tried to make her way in her house when she heard Roxie call out her name. She turned and saw her neighbor practically running across the street over to her.
“Hey, girl. How’d it go last night?”
Xan took a deep breath to keep from throttling her. She knew it wasn’t Roxie’s fault, that she only encouraged Xan to embrace her inner feminine power, but it was really hard to remember that.
“Like shit,” she sighed.
“Oh no. What happened?” Roxie asked, grabbing her arm, her eyes growing.
“He…we…I…ugh.” Xan shook her head. “We fucked, and he threw me out.”
Roxie gasped, but her shocked expression didn’t stay that way for long. “How did it happen?”
Xan explained all the gory details because she knew she wouldn’t be getting away from Roxie without spilling everything. And as she spoke, her partner-in-feminine-power’s eyes got narrower and narrower.
“That punk! Don’t you worry, girl. We’ll find you a different man. A better man.” She looked genuinely pissed, and Xan couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated, but she was already shaking her head before Roxie could finish. The last thing she wanted to do was invite more humiliation like last night. Nope, her vibrator never kicked her out. She’d stick with what she knew.
“No thanks. Last night was enough to do me in for another decade or so.”
“Why? C’mon. I’m not sayin’ you have to screw a new guy, but you could let a man take you out. Show you a good time. Or we could just go to the bar and hang. Let guys buy us drinks all night.” She wagged her eyebrows, smiling at Xan.
“I don’t think so.” Before she could say more, her phone rang. Xan cursed under her breath as she pulled it out, hoping it wasn’t that ass-wipe with the stringy blond hair. Okay, so his hair wasn’t stringy, but she’d call it that if it made her feel better. When she saw it was from Agent Parsons, she sighed in relief, accepted the call, and looked at Roxie. “I have to take this. I’ll talk to you later.” She turned to walk into the house.
“Think about what I said. Nothin’ wrong with getting drunk on a hunk’s dime.”
Xan waved her off as she went into the house. A bar meant men hitting on her. She’d pass on that. She’d have to embrace her inner bitch before she could even think of doing something that dangerous.
Once she was safely away, she put the phone up to her ear and said, “Hello?”
“Hi, Miss Bradley. It’s Agent Parsons”
“Hi, Jack. I’ve told you to call me Xan.” It was their little game. One would be formal and the other would insist on casual references. She couldn’t remember when it’d started, but it was one of the few constants in her life. She chuckled, but he didn’t jump in and join in their usual bantering, causing a sense of dread to creep down her spine.
“I’ve got bad news. Marco Collins just got paroled.”
* * * * *
Brody worked diligently on Xan’s late 70s model Ford Pinto, replacing the radiator. This thing was on its last leg, and fixing it cost more than the damn thing was worth. As crazy as her life was, she needed a more reliable vehicle. She sure as hell wouldn’t be using this piece of shit as a getaway car if she found herself in trouble and had to get away from Collins’ men. She’d have better luck running barefoot across hot asphalt.
“How’s it coming?” Colonel asked, walking up
to him.
“Slow. But I should have her ready in a day or two.”
“Good.” Colonel turned toward the other bays, eyeing the rest of the crew. “Gather around. We need to have a quick meeting.”
Brody cleaned his hands on the rag that was draped on the side of the car, then followed the guys into the meeting room, sitting down while Blade turned on the fan, trying to circulate the stifling air in this sauna.
“I’ll get right to it since we’re still open and it’s hot as hell in this room,” Colonel said, squatting on the corner of his desk. “Marco Collins got paroled.”
Brody schooled his expression, but inside he was raging. This was the last thing they needed, the last thing Xan and Scott needed. With Marco out, he’d surely be on the hunt for his former family.
“Sources tell us that he’ll head to Flint, but once he touches base with his pop, there’s no telling where he’ll go.”
“We know where he’ll try to end up,” Bear mumbled, shaking his head. “You know he’s comin’ for the lady and her kid. It’s only a matter of time before he finds them.”
“Agreed.” Colonel nodded. “But we haven’t gotten any new orders. We’re still the eyes on this.”
“Shouldn’t the feds just pull them out?” Blade asked.
“And do what?” Roc sounded disgusted at Blade’s question. “He doesn’t know where they are now. They should sit still. If they start running, they’ll raise red flags all over the fucking place.”
“He’s right,” Hunter agreed. “And you know I don’t like agreeing with that asshole.” He chuckled as he shoved his thumb in Roc’s direction.
“Fuck you, hotshot,” Roc spat.
“Not even if you grew tits, lover boy.”
“Knock it off, you two,” Colonel sighed. “Gage? Brutus? What are y’all’s thoughts on this?”
Brody eyed Gage, hoping he wouldn’t spill that they’d been doing their own little research into this mess.
Gage’s eyes cut to Brody in silent understanding before speaking to the group. “There’s nothing to say.” He shrugged. “Until we hear otherwise, we keep doing what we’re doing. If Brutus needs help, he’ll let us know.”
