Catch Me if You Can

by Christine Bell

  His stomach clenched. She seemed so lost and sad. “I don’t agree. But let’s not talk about it right now. We can figure out what to do once we’ve both had time to come down a bit, okay? Why don’t you lay back for a while and try to rest?”

  She nodded listlessly and dropped her head back against the seat. For the remainder of the drive, they were silent. He’d spent the first half of it trying to erase the image of Hannigan yanking Sadie’s hair, and the second half lost in thought about where to go from here. By the time they pulled up to her apartment building, he still had no answers.

  Sadie stirred and laid a hand on the door handle. “So what now?"

  He shook his head slowly, wishing he could reassure her more, but feeling raw and out of sorts himself. "I don't know. But I know I can’t stomach the thought of leaving you alone tonight. Can I come in?”

  She stared at him through wide-set dark eyes and nodded slowly. “All right. If you’re sure you want to.”

  Things had gone so far off the rails, and he was as confused as hell, but one thing he knew for sure. “I do.”

  He didn’t know what he’d expected, but when they walked through her apartment door a few minutes later, he stopped short. Riding up the rickety elevator and walking down the dingy hallway had him wishing he could scoop her up and carry her back to his car. Bring her to his place and draw her a hot bath. She’d seen enough ugliness for one day, and the building was just another depressing reminder of how dire her circumstances were.

  When he peered through the door, though, he found a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was tiny but it was spotless and, at first glance, looked like something out of a magazine. Modern, espresso-colored furnishings set against freshly-painted robin’s egg blue walls that were dotted with brightly-colored artwork. Flowers and plants sat in squat little pots, adding a feeling of warmth and life to the place. All in all, it seemed like a lovely, if somewhat cramped, living space.

  It was only after closer inspection that he realized it was all a series of clever illusions. The paintings were strategically placed to draw attention from the cracks in the walls. The couch legs were similar but mismatched, and every other piece of furniture had a ding or dent in it somewhere. Sadie had done an amazing job making lemon cakes out of lemons and, like pretty much everything else about her, it impressed the hell out of him.

  “Want something to drink?” she asked, tossing her purse onto the coffee table as she turned to face him. “I think I could use a glass of wine.”

  He nodded. “Sounds good. I really like what you’ve done with the apartment. You’ve got a great eye.”

  For a split second, the despair that seemed to wrap around her like a cloak faded and she smiled at him. “You think?” She looked around, her cheeks awash in a pink glow. “It took a while to get all the pieces but it was really fun. I love going to flea markets and bargaining with the vendors and finding beautiful furniture that just needs some love to bring it back to life.”

  His chest swelled with something sweet as he listened to her talk. “I know the feeling. In my old life, I used to make cabinets. Nothing like the feeling of seeing a plain piece of wood turn into something amazing. Makes you feel…satisfied.”

  When had he last felt that way?

  “You miss it,” she said simply, her keen eyes probing his face.

  It wasn’t a question, so he didn’t bother to respond. The fact was, it didn’t matter whether he missed it or not. He had a mission to complete. Every extra day he spent trying to complete it was another that his father remained unavenged. Before he’d met Sadie, that very thought had been the force that drove him. The first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing he thought of when he lay his head down at night.

  But now…

  The smile on her face faded under his intense scrutiny and the pain returned to her face. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know it doesn’t count for much, but I need you to believe that I would do anything to-”

  “Shh.” He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. “All I want right now is to be with you. Lay next to you and smell your hair, feel your skin against mine.”

  She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more but then shut it with a snap and nodded. He bent low and kissed her gently, and she responded in kind, molding her body to his. She slipped her tongue between his lips, taking the kiss deeper and sending a bolt of need straight through him.

  She stepped back and held his gaze before reaching for the hem of her shirt. She tugged it over her head and tossed it aside. Good Christ, there had never been a more perfect view in the history of time than the one he had right now. No bra, in just her skirt and heels. He'd thought it was hot to see her bent over his sofa, but it was nothing compared to the way her beautiful pink nipples pouted at him, begging for his mouth.

  “I could kill him for touching you that way,” he rasped, his brain instantly conjuring the image he’d worked so hard to erase from his memory.

  “Make me forget about it.” Her elegant throat worked and her eyes went soft as she opened her arms to him. “Make us both forget.”

  She didn’t need to ask him twice. He bent and lifted her into his arms, the scent of her shampoo washing over him. “Bedroom?”

  She pointed him in the right direction and he carried her down the dim hallway and through the door. He didn’t stop until he reached her bed, where he laid her gently down and stood back to look at her bathed in moonlight.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, the last of the blood in his body seeming to rush to his cock. She reached for him, unfastening his pants and shimmying them down over his hips, down his thighs…

  “I want to taste you,” she murmured, pushing his boxers to his ankles to join his pants. His cock sprang forward in bold relief, hard and aching for attention. She shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at him, her breath coming faster now.

  Her gaze locked with his for a moment and she licked her lips. If she was trying to torment him, it was working. But when her fingers closed around his shaft? That was when the real torture began. She worked him up and down, but she never allowed her mouth to close over him. Instead, she licked the length from his navel to his base, first slowly, then faster and all the while she massaged his thigh with her free hand. His pulse ratcheted up to a steady gallop as he watched her, breath bated in anticipation of her next move.

  She stroked faster, working his throbbing cock up and down before releasing his thigh to cup his balls. Then, just when he was about to beg, she parted her lips over his swollen head and sucked. His whole body bucked, arching into her as he tried to swallow the groan building in his chest. Her mouth was perfect, molten hot and soft, and it took everything he had not to wrap his hand in her hair and slide deeper. She wanted to play, he would let her.

  He speared his hands into her hair and massaged her scalp as she corkscrewed her tongue around him until he grew impossibly harder in her mouth. "God damn.”

  She pulled back to smile up at him and a bead of cum leaked from his tip. She flicked out her tongue, and held his gaze as she licked the drop before continuing downward, sucking him deep like he was the most delicious ice cream cone she'd ever tasted.

  Need pounded through him as she worked him until his thighs quaked at the slightest touch. She wanted to keep going, urged him wordlessly to let go…to come in her mouth, but just as his self-discipline had frayed to the point of breaking, he pulled away and pressed her back against the mattress, breath coming in short gasps.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and sat on the bed gazing down at her. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Right back atcha,” she said, running her fingertips over his back.

  He pressed her against the bed and made his way to the bottom of the bed, until he knelt next to her hip. Her skirt fastened in the front, and he wasted no time in unzipping it and slipping it down her long, lean legs. When he caught sight of her underwear, he grinned.

&n
bsp; “I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.”

  She chuckled and shrugged. “I was saving them for a special occasion.”

  He tugged them off and tossed them to the floor, baring the rest of her to his hungry gaze.

  "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he said, his throat feeling scratchy, like he’d been sucking on glass. He nudged her thighs apart, and nestled between them, pressing a kiss to each hip before moving lower to close his lips around her clit. She arched against the mattress, her breath catching as he licked her.

  “Jake, please,” she murmured, fingers already fisting his hair, urging him upward. He wouldn’t be moved, flicking his tongue over her until her muscles shook. He’d just drawn that bundle of nerve endings into his mouth and began sucking when she bucked so hard, he was forced to release her.

  She took full opportunity, and rolled to the side of the bed to stand. Her breasts heaved as she looked down at him with hot, hungry eyes. “Lay back and let me ride you before I lose my ever-loving mind,” she said, the command in her voice tempered only by the plea.

  His cock pulsed as he moved to recline against the headboard, watching her every move. She climbed onto the bed and crawled past his calves and knees and then straddled him.

  He arched into her, grinding his hips against her pelvis. He could already feel her damp heat slick again his thighs, teasing him. The desire to fill her became a grinding need. Not that he could complain about the way he slid, slippery against her soft pink center. Hell, if he had the choice, he might stay here for an hour just to watch as she rocked up and down, tormenting him.

  But she didn't make him wait. She lifted her hips and drove him inside of her, tilting her head back, giving in to the sensation. He pinched his eyes closed, the sensation of her clutching flesh combined with the view more than he could bear for a second. When he opened them again, she was above him, moving with a slow, steady purpose.

  Her breasts moved with each thrust, bouncing faster as she picked up the pace, grinding against him.

  "God, your body is perfect," he ground out, and he traced a line from between her breasts to her slit. Gently, he circled the swollen bundle of nerves there, until she sucked in a sharp breath. Her channel tightened around him and he knew she was close. He rocked her harder, gripping one hip as he thumbed her core, using her own wetness to double her pleasure.

  She folded over and met his lips, mimicking the motion of their bodies with her tongue.

  He dragged his mouth away as his balls went tight, pressure building as the need to come bore down on him.

  "Bring your knees close against my hips," he groaned.

  She did, and his world splintered.

  Christ.

  He bit down hard on her neck then lifted a hand to thread through her hair. She was everywhere. Her firm breasts pressed against his chest. The thrum of her heartbeat against his lips. And her warm wet pussy contracting around his cock.

  "I'm going to come," she said, then louder. "Oh, God!”

  She slapped a hand against the mattress and she pushed him so deep inside of her that he was sure he’d nearly lost the ability to move as she came, her body clutching at his like an unseen hand. A second later, he joined her, pulsing and rocking as orgasm crashed over him and he gave way to every sensation in his body. His eyes closed tight and he gripped her hair harder, taking in wave after wave of tingling release.

  Their shared breathing echoed through the tiny room as she slumped over him, mashing her breasts to his chest.

  And in that moment, for the first time since he could remember, he felt satisfied.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sadie stared at the swirls of paint on the ceiling in the early morning light, playing the same game she and Clarissa used to play when they were young, finding shapes and faces in the random patterns. She had to pee but she was loathe to move, certain that the second she did, he would wake up. Once that happened, there was no question he'd run out like his tail was on fire, and she wouldn't blame him one bit. Last night had been intense. More intimate than ever, and she was pretty sure he was feeling as unnerved by it as she was. Their bond had been tenuous at best. Two people tied together by a common goal. A goal that had come screeching to a halt the night before.

  It was a tough pill to swallow. All that research, all that time, wasted…

  She shook off the beginnings of the bone-deep fear that started seeping in at the realization that she was again in financial dire straits, and forced herself to find a bright side.

  At least she could go back to her job at Roberto's now to pay the rent and at least some of the smaller, most urgent bills. Alistair had no idea she was Sadie the Waitress, but she could switch her shifts just so she didn’t have to see him anymore just in case. And, in time, she'd find a new mark. One as squeaky clean as Alistair, she vowed to herself silently. She just didn't have the stomach for anything else anymore.

  It would be a rough couple months until she got something else lined up, but her life was pretty much a string of tough months of famine, made bearable by a few feasts. She'd have a bit of a pity party with too much ice cream and a good weeping session but, come Monday, she'd brush herself off and get back to the grind.

  So what if she’d never get to pick a dream like people did sometimes, and go out to achieve it, or find that one thing she felt passionate about above all else to throw herself into. She'd make it work, because she was a Leighton and that's what they did.

  It was Jake she wasn't so sure about.

  He shifted beside her and muttered softly in his sleep before rolling onto his back. Even in rest, he seemed distressed. Probably having nightmares. Alistair had taken everything from his family, and now Jake had been forced to take a giant step back in his efforts to serve up a heaping plate of revenge. If he couldn’t find a way to bring down Hannigan, he’d never have a moment’s peace. Her heart ached for him, and for herself.

  Because she had no doubt she was about to lose him.

  "Hey there," she murmured, forcing a smile as he peered at her through sleepy eyes.

  “Good morning.”

  She reached out a finger to stroke his bicep, tracing the dark angel tattoo high on his shoulder. She’d wondered about it the second time they’d made love, but had been afraid to ask. Now, with nothing else to lose and no promise of another opportunity in sight, she broached the question. “Did you get this for your dad?”

  He nodded, “I did. A week after he passed.” His jaw tensed and his gaze locked with hers. “It’s an avenging angel, to remind me…”

  Her stomach pitched and she looked away. Something told her he’d never needed the reminder, but she imagined it had been one more way of marrying himself to his cause.

  And yet another reason for you to let go of that last little bit of hope, you idiot…

  "You want some toast or something? Coffee?"

  He shook his head and pushed himself up on one elbow, stifling a yawn. "No thanks. I can't stay." He seemed like he wanted to say more...offer an explanation, but then he snapped his mouth shut.

  Her heart gave a thud but she forced a smile. "Okay, sure. No problem." She could feel the hot rush of tears pooling to her eyes, but was helpless to stop them. So silly. It wasn't like she'd thought they were an item now or something. Still, some sad, naive part of her had hoped that, just maybe, he'd want to stay.

  She turned her face away willing him to get out of the bed and go so she could cry in peace. She was naked but for her underwear and she wasn't about to cross the room in only a sheet.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, the concern evident in his voice.

  What to say to that? He was a good person. She wasn’t about to lay some guilt trip on him. He had enough to deal with after last night, a lot of which was her fault to begin with. She wasn't about to add to his troubles by being a whiny fling who didn’t know when to let go.

  “Allergies," she lied, adding a loud sniffle for good measure.

  "Sadie, I don't want to go. I have to. I
can't have my own life back until I finish this."

  "Did you ever think that maybe this is a sign?" She knew it was a waste of breath, but after her revelation the other day with Clarissa, she needed to at least say her piece.

  "A sign of what?"

  "That it's time to call it quits. Let your brother do his job. This has cost you your entire adult life, Jake. When is enough, enough?"

  "Now you sound like Mike," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. Avenging angel was right. He looked like one himself, naked, hair black as night, gray eyes blazing.

  She wanted to stop. Willed herself to mind her own fucking business, but the words kept coming. "Is that a bad thing? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe he's right? Maybe you’re going about this whole thing the wrong way."

  His laugh was low and harsh. "Now a career criminal is going to lecture me on right and wrong. That's rich."

  She winced, but pressed on, leaning forward to wrap her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest. "Your brother already told you he’s close. If you’re still dirty dealing around Alistair Hannigan when the shit hits the fan, you could wind up exactly where your dad did. In prison. Do you think that's what he would want for you?"

  He shoved a hand through his hair and glared at her. "He's dead, so I can't bloody well ask him what he wants, can I?" he muttered.

  She drew back like he'd slapped her, and it felt like he had, but this was too important to let him derail her. "You knew him. You said he was your biggest inspiration. Do you think he would've wanted you to spend your whole life chasing after Hannigan instead of living?"

  He blew out a long sigh. "What are you asking me to do, Sadie? To forget it? Give it up and walk away? Move on like nothing happened?" His grim smile destroyed the last of her hope. "Never happen. It would haunt me until my dying day."

  “Go, then.” She buried her face in her knees and bit her lip hard to hold back the tears. “Just go.”

  "I'll come back, Sadie,” he said softly, the hard edge in his voice gone now. “When this is over, I'll come back and we can see if this could lead somewhere."