No Good Truth (Bad To Be Good, Book 2)

by Dana Volney

  His life was taking on water and he didn’t know how to right the sinking ship.

  Knuckles rapped on the front door. He pulled the HK out from the couch cushions, hid the firearm behind his leg, and slowly opened the door. He might not be a wanted man by the authorities in the States, but he had many enemies.

  “Baby,” Brooklyn Barnes squealed, thrusting herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck. He took a step back to steady himself; the front door banged against the wall in her exuberance.

  She planted her lips on his and he had wits enough to just stand there. Sure, he’d hooked up with her a couple of times, but it was nothing serious. She was supposed to be in Africa or something for a foreign job.

  “Brooklyn.” He broke free of her embrace and stuck his gun in his waistband behind his back.

  This was going to go over fucking well.

  “I just got back.” The blonde with long hair threw her pink purse on the floor by the couch and whirled around to face him. “There’s this new club that opened up and I really want to check it out.”

  This was laughable. She was surely talking about Club Alegria. Normally, as in two days ago, he would’ve gone and life would’ve been as grand as he could expect. Now things had changed. He wasn’t thinking about partying. He was thinking about his team, their work. Claire.

  “Let’s go get wasted and dance till we drop.” She popped her gum as she talked. He’d never noticed how young she was, or rather, acted, before. “But first,” she grabbed at his shirt and kissed him again, “let’s have fun.”

  “Oh,” Claire’s startled voice came from the stairs.

  Brooklyn broke the kiss and turned. How was he going to explain this? Claire stumbled back, grabbing the railing. She blinked as she sat hard on a step. He rushed, taking the six stairs two at a time.

  “Are you okay?” He reached for her arm and she pulled away.

  “Yes.” She adjusted the blue robe she wore, his robe, and stood. “I heard a noise.” Her green eyes were hot on him before she continued down the stairs.

  “Claire? Is that you?” Brooklyn burst into a wide, pink-lined smile and opened her arms to embrace her.

  Yeah, lots of explaining to do.

  “Brooklyn. How nice to see you again.” Claire was all smiles. “What brings you here?”

  “That wild one over there.” Brooklyn winked at him and hooked her finger on her bottom teeth momentarily. “I heard you two were working together.” She seemed to just now realize Claire was in a robe with wet hair parted down the middle.

  “We are. Feels like old times.”

  A stare passed between the women, and Samson knew the expiration date on the niceties was nearly over.

  Claire took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her for Brooklyn. Samson went to the fridge for a beer. “You ladies want anything?”

  One icy smile and one clueless one met him.

  “What have you been up to?” he heard Claire ask from the kitchen. “How long has it been?”

  He didn’t feel bad; he had no cause for embarrassment or shame. He and Claire had broken up when Brooklyn came into his life in a romantic way. He wasn’t cheating. Sure, he hadn’t seen Brooklyn in a month. But every relationship had its challenges.

  “Years.” Brooklyn giggled. “Let’s see. I’ve been focusing more on the quick jobs lately. I just got back from South Africa on a bearer bonds job. It was intense.”

  Brooklyn was a decent grifter, able to get the job done, but Claire was a natural.

  Samson dragged his feet getting back to the living room. But there was only so much time he wanted to leave Claire alone with Brooklyn.

  “Sounds exciting. Did we ever steal bearer bonds, lover?” Claire pointed her question at him as she ran her fingers through her wet hair.

  His insides cringed. “I don’t think so.”

  “We stuck to more of the jewels, money, and art.” Claire crossed her legs toward Brooklyn, tucking her heel under her thigh and pulling the robe closed. “And the killing.” She smiled another fake-ass smile that somehow seemed nice and real. He knew better.

  Brooklyn knew the type of work Samson performed, the brand of professional he was, but they didn’t ever really talk about it. She had never killed someone and had no interest in taking a life. He certainly wasn’t on a mission to convert friends to murderers, so he’d let it be. Claire on the other hand knew exactly who he was and embraced him fully. Their connection in the field was undeniable. Maybe this time they could make their personal connection just as strong.

  “What brings you here?” Brooklyn’s cheer was starting to waver. “To Samson’s?”

  “Claire was—”

  “I’m remodeling my place,” she broke in, “and Samson was nice enough to let me stay in one of his spare rooms until it’s completed. It should be wrapped up soon.”

  “It was nice to see you again.” Brooklyn stood. “We should catch up more over lunch soon. Samson, you ready?” She grabbed her purse and waited for him by the door.

  He stood, too. “Not tonight. We’re in the middle of this job and have some planning to do.”

  “Oh, okay.” Her gaze slipped to Claire, who waved.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Brooklyn was less enthusiastic now.

  Brooklyn leaned in and kissed him on the lips before vanishing out the door. He closed it behind her and ran his palm down his face and over his lips to wipe away any lasting pink lipstick. Brooklyn was sharp enough to know something was amiss. He’d probably never see her again.

  “She’s fun.” There was something in Claire’s eyes—a knowing, an edge she’d had before her amnesia.

  He paused for a second and watched her fluff her wet hair. Nah, she’d have let up already if she’d been pulling one over at the hospital. Or … hmm, he was going to have to keep a closer eye on her.

  “You think so, huh?” He took a seat on the vacant cushion near her.

  “Her technique needs some work, but she’s pretty enough. In a decade, she’ll be a lot less effective.” Claire’s elbow was on the back of the couch, and she used her fingers and her palm to support her head. “Is she why you don’t want to be with me?” She watched him attentively, as if she were a human lie detector.

  “We’re not exclusive or anything like that.” Brooklyn had been someone to pass the time with.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Brooklyn was like every other woman he’d dated before Claire and after. Not enough.

  “No. She’s not the reason.” He was probably going to regret this, but … “Are you feeling okay? You kind of fell on the stairs.”

  “Oh, yeah, it was just a memory that hit me like a ton of bricks.”

  He sat up with a start and near spilled his beer. “What was it?” Finally, some good news.

  She chuckled like she didn’t find anything funny. “The theme of the night. You and another woman.”

  “What?”

  “My memory. It was of you in a red room, kissing this brunette.”

  “That’s odd.” Of all the fucking things she could remember in the past two years she chose to remember the one thing he wished she wouldn’t.

  “It was hazy. Like I was in a movie. But it felt so real.”

  “This is a good sign. Now that something has broken through, hopefully they all come tumbling back.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Come on.” He nudged her. “It will be okay.”

  “Maybe.” She swiveled and laid down to kick her legs over the armrest, relaxing her head on his chest. “Maybe not.”

  He rested his arm along the back of the couch.

  “Brooklyn? Really?” she asked.

  He glanced down in time to see her nose scrunch.

  “We bumped into each other in Asia a year back. Just one of those things.”

  “One of those things,” she repeated quietly as she fiddled with her robe.

  “I don’t even know what to say right now.�
�� He drank from his beer. “I’m sure … hell, I know you’ve dated others since we split.”

  He wasn’t going to apologize. It’s not like he banged Brooklyn this morning and Claire in the afternoon.

  “You didn’t have to stay home on my account.”

  “Nah, I didn’t want to go.”

  He enjoyed the hell out of clubs, but he wasn’t in the partying mood. His declining Brooklyn’s invitation only partly had to do with Claire. Oh, and so that she didn’t steal his sniper rifle again to go kill a man. He wasn’t convinced she’d shed the idea completely.

  She pulled the robe belt through her fingers. “I’ll go back to my place tomorrow. Give you back your space.”

  “That’s not necessary.” He’d just gotten used to her being around and now she was going to leave. What the shit? Could he not catch a break? Yes, it was good for her to regain her memories and live as she wanted. It had been nice to be wanted by her again. To feel alive when she touched him. To wake up next to her when the sunlight streamed through the break in his bedroom curtains.

  “We’ll see how tomorrow goes.”

  He swore he caught a little grin.

  “You promised me Padarn.” She swiveled her head to look up at him with impossibly beautiful light green eyes.

  He set down his beer on the floor and stroked her auburn hair. “We’ll get him. I have some ideas.”

  “When did I see you with that woman from the memory? Who was she?”

  “A mark.” That’s all the princess was and all she’d ever be. Hell, they hadn’t even finished the job. Claire had run and he’d left France two days later when he couldn’t pick up any trace of her.

  “I don’t remember her.”

  “We planned the job after the last night you remember. It was a diamond heist built on the seduction of a visiting princess.”

  “I don’t like seeing you with other women.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t like seeing you with other men.” His gaze roamed over her from red toes to her thick lashes. She sat up and scooted closer to him. “We shouldn’t plan jobs anymore when it hinges on one of us getting romantically involved with someone else.”

  “Agreed.”

  Heat swelled in his groin as his gaze drifted to her chest. The robe had slipped and the roundness of her breast was showing. She was naked underneath that plush fabric. His fingers twitched to open it up and spread her legs on his couch.

  He reached out and ran the tips of his fingers down the opening of her robe, skimming her soft skin until he was cupping her breast, massaging and rolling her pebble-hard nipple between his thumb and index finger.

  Her breath hitched and her head rolled back against the cushion.

  He ducked his head down, taking her breast into his mouth and sucking, teasing her with his tongue. Her fingers laced in his hair, slid down his neck and under his shirt to claw at his back. To push him to her.

  The rest of the world didn’t matter. No one else mattered but them. It had always been them. Together they were better than any drug or alcohol high. He soaked her in, letting the tingles and desire take every part of him. He couldn’t take in another breath unless he was touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

  His cock was hard, straining against his jeans. He reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his dick springing from its confinement. He slid his hand over her belly and to her other breast to cup it and play while he sucked the other. She writhed beneath his touch, putty in his hands.

  He trailed kisses up to her shoulder and then took her mouth as his own. Their tongues danced to a familiar tune of lust as his palm skimmed down her belly, moved over her hip, through her pussy hair, and between her folds. She was slick and ready for him and his dick hardened even more at the thought of sliding into her. He glided two fingers into her and pushed and she wrapped her arms around his back to grab onto his shoulders. She moaned into his mouth as he pulled his fingers out to push them up again. His thumb drew circles around her clit, pressing on the sensitive spot as he drove his fingers into her again.

  She clutched at him as their kisses became quicker, more intense.

  He left her mouth and dragged his tongue down her skin between her perfect handful-sized breasts, over her belly button, through her landing strip, and sucked on her clit while he continued to finger bang her. He had to taste her. Her sweet juices were intoxicating. He moved his tongue up and down in the rhythm of his wrist to give her pleasure.

  “There, Samson, God, yes,” Claire breathed. “Just like that.” Her fingers were in his hair, rubbing around his ears.

  He sucked harder on her clit and she bucked beneath him.

  “Fuck yes, lover.” She spasmed under his touch, and he licked her one last time before sitting up to meet her gaze. “You’re amazing.” She leaned in to kiss him, reaching for his shirt. “I knew you missed me.”

  She took her arms out of the robe and was on display, her curves a sight for sore eyes. Fuck, he never thought he’d see her again like this. And now she was here and they were together and his mind was dizzy with the possibilities. For the third time in twenty-four hours.

  He pulled at the collar of his shirt and threw it on the floor as he stood to rid himself of his jeans and boxers.

  “I also missed coming inside of you,” he growled as he pressed his lips against hers.

  She laughed deep and sultry as she reached for his cock. He let her wrap her palm around him and stroke. Fuck, he wanted to feel her in all the ways.

  “Turn around,” he whispered into her ear before nipping at her lobe.

  She flipped around between his arms, placing her knees on the cushions, her back to his chest, and stuck her ass out to him. He groaned, putting his hands on either cheek and squeezing. He ran his palms down to the back of her thighs.

  “Have I been a good girl?” Her chin lined up with her shoulder, her damp hair falling half over her eye as she watched him.

  “Fuck yes you have.” He swatted her ass then rubbed the spot.

  “What’s my reward for being such a good girl?”

  He spanked her again in the same spot, this time running both of his hands down her ass. “Spread your legs.” She complied and her pink pussy appeared as she stuck her ass higher in the air.

  Fuck me. He about came.

  He used his thumbs to separate her folds, then lined up his cock and pushed inside of her.

  “Oh, God, yes.” Her head flung back as he groaned and squeezed the sides of her ass.

  He pulled back slowly, her slickness making it easy to slide into her tight pussy. He bucked his hips into her again and again, his skin flush with heat and alive with pleasure.

  “Spank me, lover.” She reached between her legs and rubbed herself.

  He loved when she touched herself.

  He slapped her ass again in the same spot that was starting to redden. She cried out in pleasure and moved harder against him. He spanked her again right as his dick pushed into her.

  He wrapped his palm around her shoulder for leverage and bent over to kiss the other side of her neck while he kept their rhythm going.

  “You’re mine, angel,” he whispered into her ear. “All mine.”

  She cupped his cheek with her palm and brought his mouth to hers. She kissed him over and over as he kept their bodies together.

  He rested his head on her shoulder before pulling back to stand, fucking her faster.

  “Angel, ahh, fuck, angel,” he gritted out between fits of his rising orgasm. “I’m going to come in you.” He held her tight and spanked her with each thrust, the way he knew she liked it.

  She moved in sync with him. “Come in me, lover,” she said, her words tight and laced with her own anticipation.

  He thrust into her harder, faster, as she cried out, shuddering beneath him as his own orgasm made him tense. He held her close as they bucked against each other to get every last ounce of pleasure where they could.

  He rested his head on her back a
nd caught his breath. His heart was pounding and he could feel hers racing.

  This is what he wanted. Them. Together.

  Chapter Eleven

  “We knew of three recent shipments and we rescued all of them, right?” Samson asked.

  His arm brushed Claire’s in the office kitchen and she side-eyed him, catching her bottom lip in her teeth. Her gaze fell to his muscled arms. She’d woken up to them around her, holding her tight. Her morning literally couldn’t have been more perfect. If only she weren’t lying to him. Everything they were building now—getting to know each other again—was all based on her deception.

  She hadn’t expected Samson to want her again.

  Hell, she’d thought she’d moved past her own feelings for him a while ago.

  She was a damn good grifter, but she’d never been dumb enough to fall for one of her own cons.

  “That’s the sum of it.” Sabene filled a bowl with dog food and put it on the floor for Arkham. “Three shipments. Three rescues. We’re on fire.”

  They’d gotten a late start to the day but only because they hadn’t fallen asleep until the wee hours of the night. Any other day and they’d still be under the covers, but Claire couldn’t relax until they’d dealt with Padarn Gonzales. She knew Samson felt the same.

  “What’s the next step?” Rife joined them upstairs. “I have a couple of ideas.” He smiled, a rarity that made the hard man look like he could be the suave hero of many women’s dreams.

  “If Rife gets to kill Padarn today, I’m going to be pissed.” She put her hand to her hip and glared at Samson. She was only partly kidding.

  “We have to assume he knows you two,” he glanced between Claire and Sabene, “are around here. We can’t give him and his people the chance to get it right next time.”

  “I did some more digging into Padarn and the SL-40 gang.” Sabene fired up her laptop at the round table. “They are putting a lot of trust into the sweet nephew, but word on the street is that it’s his last chance to make it as a ranking member. He likes the drugs and ladies a little too much and tends to overindulge in both, then make even worse decisions when it comes to the gang. His uncle has been his only saving grace.”