by Brynne Asher
I’d like to think I’m enough of one. But I know she loves her work.
Red was not wrong about my state of mind when she wouldn’t let me bring her home. I was more than broken. I was un-fucking-done. If she leaves now, after I’ve had her here, I’m not sure how I’ll recover.
Something catches my eye on the screens in the vineyard. A body moving through the vines. I switch over to that feed on the laptop and zoom in.
Speak of my personal devil in red, even if she is dressed in all black. The women must’ve wrapped it up for the night.
I move to the front door and stand on the dark front porch. It only takes a few minutes—sticks and leaves and brush crack beneath her feet before I see her. When she finally emerges through the trees, her quick clip comes to an abrupt stop.
Silence hangs between us until I finally ask, “You have fun?”
She takes in a deep breath before closing the distance between us.
Clomp, clomp, clomp up the stairs without a word and I start to frown wondering what’s wrong until she grabs my hand before walking straight into my arms. She lifts up on her toes and I don’t lose her eyes until our mouths collide.
When it comes to Bella, I turn into a feral animal. My every emotion, action, and reaction is red-hot instinct. It hasn’t changed since day one. Nothing is more miserable than fighting the natural drive inside me that wants only her.
This moment is no different. My arms cage her and my lips possess hers, moving, taking her with me until my back slams into the front door. I refuse to lose her mouth—I’ve lived without it far too long—and fumble around until I find the knob and we fall into the house.
She yanks at my tee until her hands find my back, her nails biting into me, molding us together. I turn her and papers go flying from the dining room table before her back hits the wood.
I rip my lips from hers and don’t pretend to catch my breath as I drag my hand down her torso. “Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head, her tongue sneaking out to taste her lip I was mauling. “Please, Cole.”
Her eyes are hooded, maybe from the wine, but I’m going to believe it’s because she wants me and my very hungry cock. Bending at the waist, I plant my forearm by her head, brushing the hair from her face, and bump her nose with the tip of mine. “Need a condom to fuck you, sweetness. Let’s go upstairs.”
She fists my shirt and twists her hand, bringing me close until our mouths are fused again. Her tongue swims in my mouth, like it’s lost at sea and can’t find its way home. Her other arm snakes around my neck and if her leg weren’t wrapped around the back of my thigh in a vise, I might be worried she was trying to punk me by twisting me into a headlock.
It’s never actually happened but not by her lack of trying.
I press my needy cock into her pussy, separated only by her denim and my shorts. I drag my lips away long enough to look down at her. “Baby, I’m warning you, if we don’t go upstairs soon, there will be no condom and I will not pull out. As much as I like to come all over you, I don’t want that tonight.”
Her leg around my thigh tenses, daring me to pull away.
My favorite Wizards shirt is in definite danger of being shredded by a Brit possessed by desire.
And I don’t think her goal is to flip me into a headlock.
“Last chance, Bella,” I warn. “I have no desire to wrestle out of your hold. If you don’t let go, it’s officially open season for baby-making. I’m happy to marry you first but you also know I have no issue with doing shit out of order. If anyone is going to buck the system, it’s me. I don’t think it’s what you want but nothing would make me happier.”
She bites that damn lip.
I pause and tip my head. “Wait. Are you drunk?”
She pulls in a big breath. “No. But who knew there was so much wine in the Commonwealth?”
I slide my hand up the back of her neck and cup her head, my tone low and rough. “Are you fucking with me?”
“I’m not drunk and I’m not fucking with you.”
I exhale against her mouth. “What changed?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing has changed.”
“No,” I grit. “I mean, this is different. You’re different. You know I don’t like secrets, especially from you.”
“I’m not different.” The words fall from her lips with an ease I don’t recognize since I’ve basically had to wring them out of her. “I’m finally being honest—with myself. It’s always been you, Cole. I want everything from you. Every bloody thing you’ll give me.”
My chest tightens and I freeze. I don’t dare move—afraid I’m dreaming or she’ll finally kick me in the figurative balls and take it back. “Everything?”
She doesn’t confirm. Instead, she admits, “It scares me, Cole. And you know I’m not afraid of anything.”
I have to force myself not to grip the back of her head harder than I already am. “Not with me, baby. Nothing to be afraid of with me.”
“But—”
I shake my head. “No. You’ll never give up a thing to be with me. You still want to work—we’ll figure out a way to make it happen. I’ll never make your world smaller, Bella. I want you to have everything because you deserve it. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for and we’re going to start on that soon.”
Her grip on my shirt loosens and she flattens her hand to my chest. It slides up and around my neck before she pulls me to her. This time her kiss is different. Her desperation and need mixes and mingles with my carnal desire, creating a storm ready to burst. I dip my hand between us and flip the button and zipper on her jeans. Not messing around, I dive in to take what’s mine.
So wet.
With our lips still touching, I demand, “Last chance for you to claim a condom, baby.”
Her breath catches. “The only thing I’m claiming is you.”
Fuck.
I stand and yank off my shirt. Her flip flops land with soft thuds against the old, faded floor followed by her jeans, taking her panties with them. Her tank and bra join them as fast as I can make work of the damn clasp. When I finally have her bared before me in all her beautiful glory, I dip my head and press my lips to her scar.
At first, I hated it. It was a reminder of what I’ve come to refer to as hell week—the time in the hospital when I thought I’d lost her for good. And then it happened all over again after the internal bleeding. But since I brought her home, I’ve come to love it. I shouldn’t be obsessed with a mark that represents how she almost died. But I am.
I run my tongue up the fresh, pink puckered skin and continue to her tit. A shiver vibrates over her when I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck. She lifts her legs and her feet go flat to the table, her knees falling to the sides.
“Cole,” she breathes.
“If you were a hundred percent, I’d flip you over and take you from behind. Love seeing your ass on display when I take you.” I nip at her tit and her hips lift, needing purchase on something but I don’t give it to her. “Not yet, sweetness.”
I work my way down her body, pressing on the insides of her thighs. The dining room light over us shines down on her and I take her in before dipping my head.
She moans as I take my first taste.
From her pussy to her clit, I take a hit—feeding my addiction has never been more satisfying than after she’s agreed to give me everything. I dip my tongue inside her, followed by two fingers before I find her clit, swollen and ready.
I swirl it with my tongue and she tries to lift off the table but I grab her ass to pull it to the edge. Dipping a finger in her one more time, I slide it down to her puckered hole.
She gasps.
I grip the back of her thigh to lift it high and wide.
I suck on her clit.
And dip my finger into her ass.
“Bloody … oh, fuck.”
I’d agree, if my lips and tongue weren’t busy.
Instead, I suck harder and pump my finger.
She smacks the table with an open palm before her body starts to quiver and her neck arches.
When she comes against my mouth, my world balances. And my cock turns painfully hard. He feels like he’s been thrown into solitary for bad behavior. I let go of her leg, rip my shorts open, and free him as I milk the last of her orgasm before coming up for air.
I give my cock a pump as I slide my finger out of her and put a hand flat to the table. I enjoy the fruits of my labor as she lays before me like a soggy, British biscuit. Her eyes close and she has to work at catching her breath.
“Bella.”
She drags her lids open and her gaze immediately falls to my cock. She watches as I stroke him twice.
Taking in a big breath, she rocks my world. “I love you.”
All of a sudden, I forget about my selfish cock. I drop and take her mouth. Her fingers dip into my hair and her legs wrap around my back. All it takes is the underside of my cock to rub against her slick pussy once and I can’t wait another second.
I slide inside.
And every problem swirling around us in tornadic fashion evaporates on the spot.
Her pussy hugs my cock like she was made for me.
What the hell am I saying? She was made for me—body, mind, and soul.
I slide an arm under her to cushion her still-healing body because I am not going slow or taking it easy. I gave her every chance for a condom and she turned them all down.
“Harder,” she pleads and lifts her knees higher up my sides.
“So fucking perfect,” I growl into her hair and give her what she wants.
Her fingernails bite into my skin and she presses her face into my neck. Her pussy convulses and every muscle in her body contracts around me.
I groan and pump into her three more times until I plant myself so deep, I’d happily be lost forever. And for the first time, I come inside Bella with nothing between us.
It’s fucking amazing and I could stay here forever.
My cock isn’t anxious to move from where he’s landed, either.
She starts to run her fingers through my hair as our hearts return to a normal rhythm.
“Cole?”
I drag air into my lungs. “Hmm?”
“I had a moment with Red. I think he’s accepted me.”
I feel my lips tip and I pull away from her enough to look into her eyes. “Yeah?”
She nods.
I kiss her nose. “Told you.”
“You’re not always right about everything, you know.”
I press my cock into her and enjoy the flare of her eyes when she feels it. “The effects of your orgasm wore off fast.”
She tries to hide her smile but fails. “And what effect is that?”
“The one where I trick you into believing I’m the end-all-be-all … that I rule over the kingdom you get to live in and am overly generous with the sex you get to enjoy.”
She slaps my bare bicep. “How did I fall for such a cheeky man who’s so full of himself?”
I shrug. “All I can say is you’re one lucky woman who gets to practice making babies with me.”
“Take me to bed, Cole,” she demands. “Between the drama, the wine, and the orgasms, I could sleep for a week.”
As I pull out, something catches my eye on the new big screens.
“What the fuck?” I growl.
I stand and bring her with me. As naked as the day she was born, she presses herself to me and frowns as she takes in my expression before twisting in my arms and gasps.
Flames billow, lighting up the night sky like a burning star.
My fucking house is on fire.
Chapter 26
Flirting Sperm
Bella
It’s amazing how a four-alarm fire can burn off a buzz and ruin your postcoital, mellow mood.
Cole grabbed my cell and called Asa right before nine-one-one. Asa called everyone else. I wanted to go, however there is still the little tidbit of the intelligence community looking for me and my showing up in the presence of law enforcement would not be ideal.
Plus, someone has to man the wires and satellite feeds. Or, in my case, woman the hell out of them.
I don’t take my eyes off the feed of Cole’s home, smoking and smoldering. The place he brought me to against my will. Were the walls thin and the paint chipping? Yes, but it was his—a place that Red kept in working order and the home in which he planned to raise Abbott. It’s only been a matter of weeks but I’ve come to love his old farmhouse. I’ve been with Cole for years but we’ve never had the opportunity to be domestic together.
And now it’s gone.
What’s left of it is in shambles. I’m afraid of what it will look like in the light of day. This latest event will most certainly send Red right back to irritable land.
It’s after two o’clock in the morning. Red and Abbott are still sleeping as Cole insisted we let them be. I think it was a good decision given the fact Red probably lost most of his tools in his shed.
As I watch Cole and Crew’s team sift through rubble as the fire department finishes, my attention is drawn to a different live feed. There is activity at the so-called church Cole’s boss’s boss attends.
A mid-size crossover—something I realize Americans have a thing for—rumbles up the drive to the building, dust billowing in its wake. I enlarge the frame.
A somewhat official looking woman emerges in a plain business suit. Odd for this time of night when most are snoozing.
Hmm.
Three men meet her at the front door of the building and usher her in as if she were royalty. I look down at the files in front of me and open a plain manilla folder labeled CIA. I keep flipping until I find her profile.
The one and only, Wendy Sisson. The woman who is fucking with my future.
I study the feed, seeing only a grouping of heat—bodies congregating in the center of the building and I wonder when X-ray technology will improve so we can see through walls and roofs. I’m about to call Crew, but there’s movement outside and I don’t dare take my eyes off the screen. Cole will have to wait.
Yes, it’s definitely Wendy, the wicked witch of the CIA. She’s stomping to her car with one of the men tight on her heels like an angry predator. She’s about to reach for her door when he grabs her by the bicep and swings her around with so much force, even her short, low-maintenance hair flings in her face.
I enlarge the frame to its highest capacity and am impressed with the technology Crew invested in. The picture is quite clear and their expressions tell the tale even though the feed has no sound—they’re angry.
Wendy rips her arm from his hold and he motions to the building behind him, then the sky dramatically. Wendy pokes him in the chest and I’d roll my eyes if it didn’t mean looking away. Seriously. She’s CIA upper brass and poking the bloke in the chest? I’m embarrassed for her and wonder how many arses she’s had to kiss to get to her level because it doesn’t seem like she did it by ninjaing anyone on her own. No self-respecting woman who works in intelligence would do that unless she were working covertly, and I’m guessing this is not the case.
I bet Wendy is wishing she were more of a badass about now because the man has her back against the car, standing nose-to-nose with her, speaking so fast, I can’t read their lips.
She finally pushes him out of her personal space and rips open her purse. A wad of cash is shoved at him.
Arguing ensues.
Another handful of bills is pushed his way with a few fluttering to the ground. This must be enough to appease the man because he steps back and almost gets hit in the head with her hastily-opened car door when he bends to pick up the fallen blood money.
Or, in this case, fire money?
Wendy is off, her cloud of dust bigger and dirtier than when she arrived.
Well, then. That was an interesting turn of events.
I grab Ozzy’s cell since Cole has stolen mine and make a mental note to ask Crew for a secure phone attached t
o his new satellite network.
Cole
“No shit?”
I turn and look at the rubble that was my house. It’s mostly gone—leveled and still smoking. The firefighters are doing their jobs to make sure it doesn’t reignite. I can’t believe I’m standing here in the middle of the night thinking I’m lucky, but I am. Firefighters got here soon enough, it didn’t spread to the forest or my neighbors.
Bella called me and about blew my mind when she told me Wendy Sisson was at the church property a few minutes ago, paying someone off for something.
The timing sure is eerie since my house just blew up.
“I ran the footage back,” Bella adds. “The explosion happened minutes after you flipped the lights on remotely. Cole, someone thought you were home.”
“It was an IED.”
The line goes dead for two beats. “They confirmed this?”
“No.” I watch Asa barking orders into his phone as Crew, Grady, and Jarvis dig through shit at the back of my house, seeing what they can salvage. “I know—I’ve seen it before. It’s classic. And there’s the fact the arson investigator got here thirty minutes ago and already found traces of ammonium nitrate. From the angle of the blast, it came from the front porch. There were two packages delivered. That had to be it.”
“Cole,” she whispers. “Your home. I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head. Was it a home? Haven’t had a home since my mom died and we sold their place for Red to move in with me. Life has been such a shit show, it sure didn’t feel like a home even though I was trying to make it one for Abbott. “No one was hurt. That’s all that matters.”
“What’s the plan?”
“We’re waiting for the fire department to finish, then we’ll come back to you and regroup. Watch every move at the church—we’re going in before sunup, whether anyone is there or not.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “I assumed so. I haven’t taken my eyes off it. As far as I can tell, there are three men still there.”
“Three—piece of cake.”
“Precisely,” she agrees. “Damn, I wish I could go.”
