by Em Petrova
She arched up to kiss him, feeding him her moans as the rhythm of his movements began to grow more disjointed. His cock swelled within her, and her pussy clenched. A pulse began deep in her core.
“Oh God, I’m so close.” She threw her head back, and he latched onto her neck, kissing and nibbling as he ground his cock into her.
He slid his hand between their bodies and using a callused fingertip, pressed down on her clit.
She exploded in a wave of ecstasy, stars bursting behind her closed eyes—or maybe that was the lightning. Her own breaths sobbed in her hearing.
“Open your eyes. Look at me, cher.”
His command made her eyes pop open. She stared up into the glassy depths of his gaze. He grimaced in pleasure and stiffened. When he growled out his release, fucking her furiously, she held onto him, riding out the last of her own orgasm.
She came to her senses to find the covers over her and Dylan gone. Quickly, she pushed to her elbows and saw the glimmer of the bathroom light. She collapsed back to the pillow—her own fluffy cloud of a pillow, feeling the effects of little sleep over the past few days.
Her eyes slipped shut but her mind worked too fast for rest.
When the bed dipped under her, she opened her eyes. Dylan stood there in the buff, his muscled form outlined by the dim glow of streetlights outside the bedroom windows. He climbed into bed, his weight causing her to roll into his arms.
Okay, maybe she wanted to as well.
He tucked her against his chest, one hand protectively on the back of her head. He brushed a kiss between her brows. “That’s some bathroom.”
She felt herself smile against him. She was really proud of what she’d done in there with paint and updates that went against her rental agreement. But she didn’t care.
“I visited—”
“The baths in Budapest?” he filled in.
She started, looking at him hard. “Why, yes. Have you been there?”
He grinned, the corner of his lips tipping in that bad-boy way that started a low flutter in her belly again. “I travel when I get leave.”
“I’m impressed.”
“The golden walls and stone really capture the feeling of the baths.”
“Thank you.”
“Your taste in everything is exquisite.”
Shyness came over her. Again, people had complimented her this way before but when Dylan said it, she felt like he was peeling back a layer of her skin and seeing things others did not.
“Tell me about those wedding rings you had in your wall safe.”
His question took her by surprise. Leaning away to look at him, she said, “What do you want to know? They were my parents’.”
“I guess I’m wondering why a shoe with gems worth a quarter million dollars would be in a locked file drawer while rings worth about fifty bucks in gold is kept in a safe.”
She stiffened and sat up. “I don’t know if I like your tone or your question.”
He watched her. “Athena—”
“It sounds as if you’re accusing me of something. I thought we were beyond that, but I guess not.” She swung her legs over the side of the mattress and her toes grazed the thick Persian carpet. She dragged the sheet off the bed, off Dylan, and shielded her nudity from him.
He sat up, unfazed by his nakedness or her anger.
“Yes, Dylan,” sarcasm dripped from her, “those wedding bands belong to the head of ISIS and his wife. He’s coming back for them at the end of the week and didn’t you know that there’s a button melted into the gold that when pressed, will blow Louisiana off the map?”
Dylan sat up, an expression on his face that she couldn’t understand and at the moment, didn’t want to. She just wanted him to leave her apartment and get out of her life.
He ran a hand over his face and up to his hair. Dammit, now he looked like a lost little boy with that sadness in his eyes.
He got up and came to her. “Athena, I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“You didn’t sleep with me to make me tell you my secrets? Secrets I don’t have?”
He jerked as if she’d slapped him. “My God, you think I’d do that?”
“I don’t know what you’d do. You’re a stranger to me.”
“I think we’re a hell of a lot more than strangers after what we shared.” His tone rang with irritation.
She could cave in and cuddle against his broad chest like she wanted to. Or she could stand her ground and force him to see reason when it came to the situation—or get out.
Clutching the sheet to her chest, she stared at him. “I wish I knew what to believe when it comes to you, Dylan. But the fact is, you’re either investigating me or protecting me and—”
He gripped her shoulders, pulling her onto tiptoe, his mouth hovering over hers. His heated breath washed over her lips and his eyes burned with intensity. “This world is complicated, Athena. There’s a lot I can’t tell you, about people who’d try to use you or set you up to take the fall for them.” His throat worked as if he choked on the words he wanted to spew. “Fuck it—those shoes with the gems? They’re a key piece to what we’re after.”
“How so?”
He stared into her eyes and finally gave a shake of his head. “I’ve said too much already. But just know that I’m here for you—to keep you safe and to…” He trailed off, his grip on her changing, softening.
He pulled her against him, molding her to fit his hard chest, her hips nestled to his. A soft noise left her, and she rested her head against his pec.
She must be more exhausted than she thought.
He held her a long minute and then pushed out a sigh. “I’ve gotta take you back to the safe house. Hell… what I wouldn’t do to stay the night here with you.”
Chapter Six
“Talk to you a sec?” Ben closed the door of the office where Dylan had set up to monitor all the activity of Athena’s Creations.
He gave a nod and looked away from the monitors. For the moment, Athena was alone in the boutique, busy steaming the wrinkles out of a gown.
Ben didn’t immediately speak but stared at him.
“What?” Dylan asked.
“Fuck. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“See what?”
“You’re into that woman.”
Dylan shook his head. “I’m in charge of her.”
“But you get the same look Sean does when he looks at Elise.”
Dylan shot his brother and commander a flat look. “This one?”
“No, dumb ass. But never mind—I’m here for another reason.”
He sat up straighter, his brother’s observations put on the backburner.
“You were right about there being more gems than the ones in those shoes. Roades tracked down the supplier and was told that twelve in total were sold to the buyer.”
“Roades tracked him down? Since when is he taking on such sensitive work?”
“Our youngest brother’s grown up a lot since joining Knight Ops, bro. He isn’t all about shooting ’em up and reloading as fast as he can.”
“He’s still all about the fucking every pretty girl on his down time that he can, though, right?”
Ben chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the same.”
Dylan blew out a breath. “Whew. I was scared for a minute. Can’t have these guys growing up and settling down too much.”
Ben cocked a brow. “What about you? Experiencing any feelings of settling down?”
“Stick to the intel. Was I right about the gems? That there are microchips embedded in them? How many chips did you find?”
“Sean and Elise took out six. She’s busy decoding them now.”
“So that leaves six in the wind. Do we need to search the shop again?”
“My thought is to have her place another order with the same supplier.”
“Athena won’t be happy about that.”
His brother gazed at him. “Damn, I knew it.”
“Quit
trying to read more into this than there is.” Only, Ben’s radar was never wrong, and this was no different. If his brother’s alarms were blaring that Dylan was slowly falling for Athena, then he was spot on.
Although after last night, Dylan thought falling for wasn’t exactly the right word—he’d fallen. Pure and simple, he wanted her. And as soon as he figured out how to get her out of this wreck of a situation, he was going to whisk her away to the family cabin in the bayou, away from obligations and terrorists and spend time learning everything there was to know about her.
“I’ll have her pack up all the jewelry and hand it off to Chaz when he gets back from following that banker’s wife. But I want you to tell Roades and Sean to look for more than the chips embedded in the jewels.”
“Okay?”
“I want them to consider the jewels themselves. Some might be worth more than others—some will be nothing but glass. You may need to bring in an expert on the case and see if any are real. A fat ruby or emerald would be worth enough money to grease the palm of someone influential.”
Ben nodded. “This is above our pay grade, but I think your hunch is right. I’ll inform Jackson this is our agenda and I’ll let you know what we find.”
Dylan sat back in the chair, his gaze drifting to the monitor again. His earpiece hummed with a soft tune—Athena was humming.
Ben laughed and shook his head. “Yup, smitten. You’re in deep shit, Dylan. Falling for a woman you’re either watching or protecting is never going to end well.”
“Shut the hell up, Ben. Don’t you have a job to do?” He ignored his brother, but his words lingered long after Ben left. He was probably right—about everything. Athena would never see him as a normal guy, a love interest. Not when he was keeping an eye on every move she made and ticking her off with questions about what she kept in her safe.
None of this would end well for him either. He’d already established in his mind that he wanted her.
He grunted. “Too fucking late.”
* * * * *
Athena saw the customer out the door with a wave and smile. Humming one of the jaunty Mardi Gras tunes she’d heard blasting from the street festivities, she walked into the dressing room to clean up after the customer.
Gowns were haphazardly hung on the hangers, but Athena wasn’t fussed—it was part of her job. She enjoyed helping these clients and seeing smiles on their faces when they walked out feeling so good about their appearances.
She slid the zipper up on one gown and then hooked the shoulder strap more securely on the hanger. She set the gown aside and reached for another. The red dress was exactly what everybody was looking for when it came to Mardi Gras season—there weren’t enough sequins or feathers to satisfy a woman going to a good party. In fact, if Athena had to choose, she’d probably select this gown.
She held it up to her curves, imagining the fit on her body. Hugging her breasts and hips and dipping in all the right places.
She pictured how Dylan’s eyes would widen when he saw her and how he’d look himself. She’d only ever seen him… Well, in and out of cargo pants. She had no idea if he liked dressing up, but she’d overheard him and one of his brothers talking about catfishing at a cabin in the bayou, and she could easily envision him in that setting. Kicked back in a lawn chair, a beer at his elbow and a rod in hand. His well-worn shorts and T-shirt would fit his muscular body to perfection.
She shivered at the warmth that brought to the surface of her skin. Their night together was something out of a book or movie. He was so attentive and thorough…
She hugged the gown to herself and glanced up and down her reflection.
A breath trickled from her, strangled. The small black speck clinging to the corner of the mirror was unmistakably out of place.
The dress fell from her grasp to puddle on the carpet and she bent to pluck the device off the mirror. Disgust and fury rose up, her chest burning with it. A scream built in her lungs, but she couldn’t release it just yet—Dylan deserved every curse that would come from her mouth for what he’d done.
Dress forgotten, she stormed out of the dressing room and crossed the showroom. When she burst into the office, he was typing something into a laptop. He glanced up, and she reeled.
“Since when do you have glasses?” The horn-rimmed frames shouldn’t have such effect on her ability to think or the rapid flutter of her heart. But he looked like the sexiest man alive.
A crooked grin tilted the corner of his lips and he eased the glasses off. “They’re not for reading.”
“Oh.” She stared blankly at him, wondering if they were just for making her lose her mind with lust. Then she remembered what she held clutched tightly in her fist and how duplicitous and sneaky this man was.
Her brows lowered, and she strode to his side, thrusting out her open palm. She let him see the device for a moment and then rifled it at his chest.
“You’re bugging my dressing rooms now? Is that a camera? You’re violating my customers!”
He clapped a hand over the bug before it could fall to his lap. Good thing, because if she looked down and thought about what was behind that zipper of his cargos, all her anger would lose its effect.
He held the device between his long fingers, eyes narrowed.
“I can’t tell you how creeped out I am that you’d sink so low, Dylan. I don’t care if you’re doing it for the government—in fact, that’s even worse! Do we have no rights anymore? How about the right to take off our clothes without somebody looking at us on a… a monitor!” She waved at the screens that showed her shop along with a bunch of website tabs on the laptop—apparently he was doing some research on gems.
She opened her mouth to continue telling him off, but his quiet tone stopped her.
“Where did you get this?” He picked at one corner of the device with a thumbnail.
“Haven’t you been listening to me? In the dressing room! You put it there or ordered it to be placed there. I still can’t bel—”
“This isn’t ours.”
His words sliced through her like a cold blade of a knife. Her heart tripped, and she slapped a hand to her chest to force it to beat again. All the blood felt like it had run out of her body, leaving her icy.
“What do you mean it isn’t yours?” Her words came out reedy because she couldn’t find enough oxygen in the same room with Dylan on a good day, and now this?
He leaned over the device, inspecting it closely. Then he snapped to his feet so fast that she stumbled back a step. He put out a hand to catch her, but her back met the wall instead. Thank God, because she needed something solid to hold her up.
If that bug wasn’t from Knight Ops, then who?
“When did you notice this?” The urgency in his tone ripped through her.
“I— Just a minute ago when I went into the dressing room to clear it out.”
“It wasn’t there for the three customers before her?” Of course he had eyes on the last customer and all of those from earlier.
She shook her head, feeling her hair breaking free of the confines of the leather hair band holding it at her nape. Curls swirled around her face. “I don’t know. I didn’t look that closely before.”
“And this time you did?” His arched brows seemed to throw accusations at her. And to think she’d been fantasizing about playing dress-up with him or imagining how he looked in his down time.
“I didn’t look at that corner of the mirror before. I’m busy. Dylan, if that isn’t yours, whose is it?” Hysteria rang in her voice, and she fought it down. Going off the rails over this wasn’t going to help the situation. But she was stressed to the point of meltdown and the only time she hadn’t felt attacked by this man was when she was in bed with him. That had been a different kind of attack—one on her senses.
She brushed the curl off her cheekbone, staring at his expression. His emotions were masked, his face far from the animated, gorgeous man she was used to. This guy was a killer, and she remembered thinking
how cold and cruel his eyes really were. Fact was, he had multiple sides, and she was just seeing a few of them.
He suddenly hunched over the desk, one thumb rapidly moving over his cell phone while he one-handedly entered some numbers in the keyboard, causing the security footage to flip backward. The hours of the day registered rapidly at the top until he reached the time when the first customer had entered that morning.
Meanwhile, his phone rang faintly. A deep voice answered.
He snatched up the phone and slammed it to his ear. “We’ve got trouble.”
So it was Knight Ops.
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling all that cold settle into her bones. She couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, only Dylan’s words.
“Don’t give me any of that Alpha Charlie, Ben. I’m far from distracted from this mission.”
Alpha Charlie? She stared at his blank face, seeing none of that warmth she had when rolling around her bed with him.
He sliced a look her way and then returned it to the monitor immediately. “9:43.” He flipped forward in the footage. “10:07. And 11:01. Got it? Good—find them and question them.”
Athena moved forward and grabbed his arm. “You can’t have my clients questioned like common criminals!”
He shook her off, and she stepped back, more stunned by his reaction to her touch than she cared to admit. A pang of hurt stabbed her chest as she realized she was nothing to him but a warm body to get off on. But to her, the previous night had been so much more.
Stupid, she was so stupid.
She started for the door, but Dylan’s arm shot out and he snagged her around the chest, the warm steel wrapping her up tight as he drew her back to his chest. With his mouth next to her ear, he spoke to Ben once more.
“See that it’s done. You know where to reach me.”
She felt him flex when he pocketed his phone. Then he turned her in his hold to look down into her eyes.
“Tell me everything.”
“You can see it all—hear it too. What do you think I can possibly tell you that’s new?”
His jaw worked as if he was grinding his teeth. She didn’t like this cold, hard Dylan. She’d totally let herself fall into the trap of thinking something else might be behind their attraction—that this screwed up relationship could be something more after this nightmare ended.
