Enticement (Master Class Book 2)

by Sierra Cartwright

  “Are you stopping me, Sir?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you…” She licked her upper lip. “Don’t you need me to take care of that problem?”

  “The killer erection, you mean?” He grinned. “Nice try.” Damn, he liked the fact that touching him had aroused her. This woman was his match. Now to convince her.

  “If leaving me turned on is stage one, what happens next?”

  “You’ll find out soon.”

  “I’m not sure I like your tactics.” She pouted, her perfectly plump lips tempting him to turn his back on his promise to his sister.

  “Ella, Ella, Ella. You haven’t begun to see what I have planned for you.” He wanted to go caveman on her, claim her, whisk her away, lock her up, keep her naked and submissive. Make her his.

  The thought made Pierce’s testosterone surge.

  His entire life, he’d shaken his head at friends who made decisions based on the reactions of their cocks. But now, he was a poor, miserable, besotted man, humbled like any other mere mortal.

  After another kiss that left him restless, he released her. “Don’t even think about playing with yourself.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “But now you are. And you’re noticing how hard your nipples are, how tender your breasts feel. You might even be aware of a tingle in your clit. No doubt you’re aroused, and that’s made worse by the fact I won’t allow you to do anything to relieve it.”

  “You’re an ass, Sir.”

  “Unapologetic. Unrepentant.” He kissed the top of her head. “Before I go, we need to exchange cell phone numbers.” So she wouldn’t have an excuse not to contact him, he programmed his information into her phone then called himself so that he could save hers.

  “That’s tricky.”

  “No need to see me out.”

  But she grabbed a robe, fastened the belt tight then walked outside with him.

  When he looked in his rearview mirror, he saw her on the front porch, her right hand lifted in farewell. Despite their banter a minute before, her lips were pressed together, as if she was fighting back emotion. He fucking didn’t like that sight. He’d rather see happiness and excitement on her features. The joy of hello.

  When he turned at the next stop sign, he shook his head to clear it then focused on the road ahead.

  Figuratively, he didn’t look back. Ever since he’d been a teenager, he’d charted his course, planned the future he wanted, set goals to get there then went after them with unwavering determination.

  And now, he wanted Ella.

  His cell signaled an incoming message. Could be from his unit or a friend. Then he grinned. Maybe, just maybe, it was from Ella. At a traffic signal, he checked the phone.

  As he should have expected, it was Morgan, reminding him to be at their parents’ house at twelve hundred hours.

  He replied that he wouldn’t let her down then dropped his phone back on the console.

  The next time he stopped, he picked up his phone again and proceeded to step two of Operation Fuck Ella Senseless at the Party—give her sexy orders.

  Skip the underwear.

  By the time the light turned green, there was still no response.

  The woman had more reserve than he did. With a grin and to be certain he remained in her thoughts, he sent another.

  Remember that I also told you to wear a butt plug.

  After parking in front of his hotel, he rode the elevator to his room, where he changed into a lightweight gray Denver Broncos T-shirt and shorts before heading down to the workout room and a treadmill.

  Running indoors, with the air conditioning chilling the air, was a luxury he didn’t often manage. To stay sharp, he almost always chose to run outside. He had to work in heat and humidity, relentless wind, blazing sun or soul-sucking cold.

  He turned off the television and set the treadmill for a brutal pace so that he wouldn’t get lost in his own thoughts. Exercise that was too easy allowed his mind to wander. The more challenging the workout, the sharper his focus.

  Still, images of Ella crept in around the edges of his mind. And when he inhaled, he imagined he could smell her, femininity curled around demand.

  He wished for a moment that his life could be simpler, that she was the type of woman he could whisk off to North Carolina. A few of the guys he knew managed a relationship, even a marriage. But he doubted any of those women had been as adamant as Ella about not being involved with a military man.

  Not that he blamed her.

  He cranked up the speed, breaking a sweat, but not dislodging thoughts of her. How the hell did they even stand a chance when they’d be half a continent apart?

  Even if they weren’t, she wanted a life much different from the one he had to offer. He’d miss dinner most evenings.

  The buzzer sounded, signaling he’d put in forty-five minutes, though it seemed like less.

  He brought the speed down to a jog then a fast walk for a couple of minutes.

  After his breathing and heartrate were normal, he sought out the free weights.

  A woman in a halter shirt and form-fitting workout shorts sauntered in and caught his eye in the mirror. He nodded back. While he acknowledged she was beautiful with pulled-back blonde hair and a quick smile, she did nothing for him. Unlike the seductive hazel-eyed submissive he’d had up against the refrigerator a few hours ago.

  No doubt. He had it for Ella Gibson. Bad. And she was worth whatever he had to go through to get her.

  He finished his repetitions then re-racked his weights and heading for the stairs to take him to his third-floor room.

  The knowledge that he was going to see her again soon was enough to arouse him. Even though he’d had more sex in the last sixteen hours than in the last two years, he jacked off beneath the cold spray of the shower, imagining rubbing his ejaculate all over her breasts.

  Temporarily sated, he dressed in jeans and a casual polo shirt before packing his duffel bag.

  His phone rang. This time it had to be Ella.

  He glanced at the caller identification. His grin faded. Logan Powell.

  He and Logan had been friends for years. They’d met in the service. And he didn’t remember Logan calling before.

  Pierce swiped the answer key. “Holden.”

  “Are you ready to quit playing army, yet?”

  Like most men he knew, Logan didn’t waste time on unnecessary pleasantries—things most people might consider manners. “What you got?”

  “I’m planning to get married.”

  Pierce let out a long, slow whistle. “Does the woman know?”

  “Well…” Logan cleared his throat.

  Which meant he hadn’t yet proposed. “You’d better get with it before she figures out you’re an asshole.”

  “Knew I could count on you to be the first in line to congratulate me.”

  Pierce imagined his friend flipping him the bird.

  “I’m going to need to expand the size of the office,” Logan continued, as if the previous exchange hadn’t happened.

  “Ask Montrose for help. He’s a logistics man.” Pierce knew little, and cared even less, for administrative responsibilities. He was a tactics and assault specialist.

  “We’re considering combining forces. We could use a few good men.”

  Pierce paced to the window, thumbed aside the curtain and took a cursory glance outside. Didn’t matter whether he was in Africa, the Middle East or the US. Habits were habits, and he never kept drapes or blinds open. “What do you have in mind?”

  “We’ll be doing some executive protection.”

  “I don’t babysit or bodyguard.” He’d trained for it. Hated it. Everything would be fine until an ambassador’s wife wanted to host a tea party that would jeopardize a dozen lives, behaving as if she still lived in the Hamptons and that scones were available on any menu. “Nice talking to you. Regards to Montrose. I’ll call him on my next visit.”

  “And we’re working with friendly forces
overseas.”

  Code for official government-sanctioned operations. American and allies. All of which would be denied if something went tits-up.

  “There’s some homegrown work out there, too.”

  Which meant counterterrorism efforts on United States soil. Now he was intrigued.

  “The running track at the high school near your parents’ house,” Logan said.

  “On my way.” Without waiting for an answer, he hit the end button.

  After showering, Pierce packed his duffel bag, checked out of the room then drove to the park.

  Logan was already on the track, at the farthest point, running at maybe a five-mile-an-hour pace. The man must have been close by when he’d placed the call and confident that Pierce would agree to the meeting.

  Before Ella, he might have told Logan to look him up in the future, another ten years or so, after he’d retired with full military benefits. But now? Couldn’t hurt to listen. He could always say no.

  He locked the vehicle. Since no one was close, he dropped the keys near a bush, stretched his muscles, more to be sure that he was alone than because his muscles needed it, then hit the track at a jog. Figured it would be three minutes, maybe a bit less, before Logan drew up alongside him, long enough for both of them to be sure they had no eavesdroppers.

  Habits. Ingrained in both of them.

  Took Logan one minute, seven seconds to fall into step. The pair could have called out a cadence to the synchronized rhythm.

  Neither said a greeting.

  “Resources are stretched stateside,” Logan said.

  Budgets and politics. Always a wicked combination. The feds didn’t have the time or resources to check out every lead and perform the numerous tasks their fearless elected leaders demanded of them. And no matter who was at the top of the food chain or who was in the White House, or how much information each department said they shared, details slipped by. Connections were missed. And shit got real.

  “Takes skilled people who know what they’re looking for to sort through things.”

  During the time he’d been training to be an operator, he’d spent three days in Washington DC outwitting the FBI. Hadn’t been easy. But it should have been more difficult. “Not sure why we’re still talking. I don’t do admin.” Pierce had resisted promotions for that reason. He liked field work. He had no desire to train others. No urge to fill out more paperwork than necessary.

  “We could use some team leaders. Recon.”

  “I’m good at stopping stuff.” Barging in while others sat in a situation room and waited for updates. “But I have no patience for tedium. I think you’re talking to the wrong person.” No matter how tempting.

  “It wouldn’t be what you’re used to,” Logan agreed. “But you’d be on US soil.”

  “How often would I be home?”

  “Where’s home?”

  Good question. Until Ella, Pierce had never considered moving back to Colorado. But now… “You have operations outside of Colorado?”

  “We do. And we’re working on expansion. We’ve been focusing on the West, California, Las Vegas. We haven’t moved into North Carolina yet. Not saying we wouldn’t if it mattered to you. But we would need admin, a leader. Someone to get us started.”

  Pierce shuddered.

  Logan laughed.

  “Denver area,” Pierce said.

  “We’re looking at a lot of surveillance, gathering intel. Not the adrenaline you’re accustomed to.”

  “You saying I may never throw another flash-bang before going in with live ammo?” Boredom was not something he thrived on.

  “Yeah. Could be you’d prefer a root canal to my type of job offer.”

  “Heard you were shot at a few months ago.”

  “You sound more interested all of a sudden.”

  To some that made Pierce a freak. Not to Logan, he knew.

  “Got a little too close. My cell phone took the worst of it.”

  So the position wasn’t entirely without risk.

  Logan named a salary range that was above Pierce’s current paygrade. He’d been planning to hang around the army long enough to retire. This offer was enticing, though, and he held back a whistle.

  “You’d still be serving your country.”

  Pierce realized Logan thought the offer wasn’t good enough. That wasn’t the case. In fact, Logan’s figure held a comma Pierce hadn’t been expecting.

  Since he was overseas so much of the time, he hadn’t spent a lot of money. His savings and new income level would enable him to continue his retirement plans while caring for Ella. Not in a way that Junior could, certainly. But paying the bills wouldn’t be a problem. “We’ll continue to talk.”

  Logan nodded. “Job’s ready anytime.” He stepped up the pace, leaving Pierce behind.

  When he returned to the parking lot, there was no sign of another vehicle. After grabbing his keys and opening the door, he checked his phone.

  There was no return text message from Ella.

  Turned out she might be as stubborn as he was. That would make things interesting.

  Time to up his game and move to step three of Operation Fuck Ella Senseless at the Party—denial.

  Stroke your clit thirty times. Don’t come. If you have to stop so you don’t come, that’s fine. But the number is thirty. No less. No more. And the correct response to my direct command is, “Yes, Sir.”

  He tossed the phone into the console then stuck the key in the ignition and drove to his parents’ house, analyzing the conversation with Logan, thinking about Ella. Pierce arrived less than ten minutes late.

  Is this still step two?

  The response I’m looking for is, Yes, Sir.

  He was grinning when he entered the house through the French doors in the back.

  His father stood in the kitchen, a cup of coffee near his elbow. Instead of greeting his only son, Gerard checked his Yachtmaster Rolex, a watch he wore even though he was terrified of the water. “Your sister said you’d be here at noon.”

  “Good to see you, too, Dad.” For the first time in three years. Pierce extended his hand.

  As if he had something to prove, Gerard exerted extra pressure when they shook.

  “You look well,” Pierce observed. Even though the party wouldn’t start for hours, Gerard was already dressed in a white shirt. A blue tie was knotted at his throat. He wore a casual blazer and chinos. And, of course, deck shoes to match his nonexistent boat.

  Perhaps Gerard had just come from the office. Despite the fact it was Saturday, that was a distinct possibility. Most men opted to work from home on the weekends, but Gerard seemed to use his downtown Denver office as a refuge.

  “You are planning to shower and change?”

  “Not to worry. I’ve got extra clothes in the car. Went for a run with Logan Powell.” He crossed to the coffee pot and pulled out the metal carafe to shake it. Liquid sloshed around. He didn’t want any more caffeine, but grabbing a cup gave him something to do. “He’s working with Joe Montrose now.”

  “Oh.” Gerard nodded.

  “Thinking about joining them.”

  “Does it pay better than the army?”

  “A lot of things do.” The fact he would still be serving his country mattered to Pierce, though. “To some people, it’s not all about the money.”

  Gerard said nothing.

  Pierce poured a cup of coffee. Even though it was tepid, it was strong.

  “When you’re ready to grow up and take a real job, you have a place in my business.”

  He took a drink, regarding his father over the rim. Good to know nothing ever changes. “Don’t have the required degrees.”

  “You still have time for education. Night classes. Online. That type of thing. If getting smart matters to you, you can figure it out.”

  “Generous offer, Dad.”

  “Your mother would be pleased to have you in Colorado.”

  Pierce’s thoughts were with one woman, and one woman only
. “I haven’t made any decisions yet. There’s a lot to consider and work out.” He took another sip, then put the cup on the limestone countertop. “What needs to be done?”

  “It’s time you get out of the army. Before you get seriously hurt.”

  As if the punctured lung hadn’t been significant. “Thanks for the concern about my well-being.”

  “You’ve had a long enough rebellion, Pierce. Tell me you’re ready to join the firm.”

  “No.” Not even for a second.

  His father sighed. “At some point, Pierce—”

  “I will stop being a disappointment,” he finished the familiar refrain.

  Gerard shrugged. “Today is not that day, is it?”

  He gritted his back teeth. “What does Mom need help with? Brawn can be handy.”

  “The caterers have most things handled.”

  No doubt. Laurel Holden left nothing to chance. “So why did I need to be here early?”

  “I’m sure your mother will want to move some tables once she arrives home. Last- minute changes. She’s worried about how everything will work when the band starts.”

  “Band?”

  “Not a big one.” Gerard shrugged. “And there’ll be a small area for people to dance. But the catering company will handle the setup.”

  Pierce nodded.

  The soft sound of a car engine rumbled in the distance, and he walked to the window then nudged aside the blinds so he could glance outside without being seen.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Gerard snapped. “Are you going to behave as if you’re in a spy thriller all afternoon?”

  “Yeah. Probably.”

  Morgan parked their mother’s sleek black sedan in the circular driveway. And Laurel remained seated until her daughter opened the door to help her out.

  Dutifully, Pierce opened the front door to await his mother’s grand entrance.

  “Pierce! My darling, darling boy! You’re home. Home at last.” She offered a cheek.

  As he bent forward to give her the air kiss, he was engulfed in a puff of gardenias and lilacs. The subtle floral blend was her signature, something she’d worn every day since he was a child.