Full Exposure

by Debra Webb

  “Will waiting make this easier for you? I mean, help you do what you have to do?” She cursed herself for letting him hear her worry. Why couldn’t she stay angry at him? She hated him.

  That was a lie.

  She didn’t hate him at all.

  She hated what he did. But she didn’t hate him.

  “The meeting at Lincoln Park is a diversion. I want them focused on something besides the here and now. Their distraction is essential to our success. But that’s not why I’m waiting.”

  He intended to tell her. Her senses rushed to full attention. Did he finally trust her? Believe she could comprehend his ultimate plan?

  “I’m waiting until Clark’s 4:00 a.m. meeting,” Danes went on. “He called someone and demanded a meeting. Someone who would care whether or not your aunt lived or died. I need to know who that someone is before I proceed.”

  She vaguely remembered the call. Somehow she’d missed a crucial element of the conversation. Obviously. If Danes were right, whoever Clark had called had some connection to her aunt.

  The four o’clock appointment’s identity would be important. For a number of reasons. Mainly to ensure that this was truly over. She wanted every connection to Leberman and Stephens exposed and squashed today. Her family would never be safe otherwise.

  A weary sigh heaved past her lips. She should have trusted Danes to know what to do. Should have given him the benefit of the doubt. No matter how unconventional his means in her eyes, she should have trusted him from the moment he saved her life.

  “Look.” She hugged her arms around her middle and stepped toward him. “I owe you an apology,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean to go off on you a little while ago.” She stopped directly in front of him and met his wary gaze. “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry I said that.”

  For several seconds she felt certain he wouldn’t respond. He seemed to weigh his words as he searched her expression for some hidden motivation for the sudden about-face. She wasn’t the only one around here who had difficulty with trust issues. Cole Danes had issues…lots of them. It didn’t take a degree in psychology to recognize a man with a seriously screwed-up history.

  “Don’t give me too much credit, Miss Parker,” he countered. “I’m not nearly as heroic as you believe. Saving your life was necessary to my endeavor.”

  She tamped down the automatic surge of anger at his indifferent attitude. He had an explanation for every damn thing. Nothing was left to chance, nothing motivated by mere emotion. His every move, every thought was a carefully calculated strategy.

  A new and startling epiphany abruptly intruded. That was exactly what he wanted her to believe. It kept her, like all other humans, at a distance. The question she’d asked earlier tonight surfaced amid the other chaos in her mind. Within the answer lay the truth about the real Cole Danes. She felt more certain of that conclusion than ever.

  “Tell me,” she challenged, determined not to be put off, “what did these men do to you? Somehow you got here the same way I did. By personal express. I know it. Don’t try to deny it, Mr. Danes.”

  He moved far too quickly for her brain to absorb his intent. His fingers plunged into her hair and hauled her face up to his. “Enough talk,” he whispered against her lips. She gasped; he kissed her hard, punishingly so, smothering the tiny sound before it escaped.

  She flattened her palms against his chest to push away, she told herself, but her strength melted in a flash fire of heat as her entire body zeroed in on his kiss. She wilted into his arms, unable to resist.

  His lips felt firm and yet soft somehow. Hot, urgent. His body was hard beneath her palms. His arms a powerful bond around her, holding her close…closer.

  His kiss was uninvasive, involving only his lips. But that was more than enough. Shiver after shiver skittered over her skin, penetrating more deeply with each caress of his mouth. Then he touched her lower lip with his tongue, swept from side to side, tracing the seam that instantly parted for him. He thrust inside. An mmm resounded deep in her throat. He tasted vaguely of the spicy sauce they’d shared from their drive-thru meal earlier. But the physical passion he exuded overwhelmed all other thought. Made her squirm to get closer to him.

  His fingers traced her face tenderly, thoroughly, as if he wanted to memorize every minute detail. He drew back just far enough to look into her eyes, the feel of his ragged breath fanning her trembling lips. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured softly before nipping her lower lip with his teeth. “Far too sweet and innocent for a man like me.”

  She felt his withdrawal even before his hands set her away from him.

  Fury erupted inside her again, but it did little to quell the riot of desire. Damn him. He was the master of distraction. He’d wanted her to stop talking. Well, he’d succeeded. Only this time he’d made a strategic error in judgment.

  She moved in on him, closer than before. “You’re not getting off that easy.” She grabbed his face and pulled his mouth back to hers. This time she launched the attack, kissing him with all the emotion that had been building since they’d first met. With all the need exploding inside her. She needed him. He would not deny her. Her fingers threaded into his silky hair. Damn, she did love his hair.

  His hands were suddenly under the jacket, latching on to her bottom. He pulled her hips against his. She moaned at the feel of his craving for her. He was rock hard. Want slid through her veins, fueling the flames already out of control inside her. She hadn’t been held like this in so long…hadn’t felt a man’s hungry touch…tasted a greedy kiss in so, so long.

  She needed this…needed him.

  The zipper of her jacket lowered. Strong fingers closed around her breasts sending more delicious shivers over her skin. She wanted him to feel the same. Slowly, her lips never leaving his, she unbuttoned his shirt. Then she reached inside, reveled in the feel of his sculpted chest, taking care not to get too close to the bandage or the holstered weapon. She felt him tremble when her fingers encountered his flat, male nipples. She smiled against his lips. In a bold move of payback, he slid one hand into her panties. She tensed, her heart thundering with sudden trepidation, her entire body anticipating the streak of sensations that would follow.

  He wrapped his free arm around her waist and leaned her back as he bent forward, at the same time as one long finger slid inside her quivering body. The position intensified the daring invasion. She gasped. Tried to kiss him but he evaded her, content to stare into her eyes as he plundered her drenched sex. His thumb pressed a hot button she’d almost forgotten existed, tightening her feminine muscles and sending a spiral of mind-numbing sensation cascading outward from the pulsing center. Her breath came in shallow little puffs as he drew response after response from her in this same manner, using nothing more than his magic fingers.

  She fought the drugging effects of need. The urgent drive toward that precious pinnacle. Told herself not to let him do this. She wanted more than this. She wanted all of him. She wanted him to feel the pleasure, to reach this amazing peak. Too late. Her body went rigid, arched like a bow in his arms. Sensation after sensation rippled through her. Her muscles contracted greedily. She shuddered then felt her body go completely liquid.

  He straightened, sagged into the wall, bringing her against his chest. His arms tightened around her, kept her vertical. She felt his heart pounding. Felt the hardness of his own flesh. She couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t understand why he’d satisfied her and not himself. The way he held her now…as if she mattered.

  It didn’t make sense.

  Then she knew.

  Distraction.

  He didn’t want to answer her questions. Didn’t want her working herself into a frenzy with killers only yards away. Didn’t want her dwelling on all that could happen in the next few hours.

  So he’d done what he did best, distracted her.

  She pulled away from him. Stared into those carefully shuttered eyes. Her body still throbbed with the lingering pleasure of the best climax
she’d ever had. She ignored it. Summoned her determination, diverted the irritation building toward one goal: breaking him.

  She backed away, until she bumped into the counter where he’d left the flashlight. She reached behind her, felt the cool counter, then the colder edge of the stainless-steel sink, moved beyond it until her fingers closed around the cylinder shape of the flashlight. She positioned the light on the edge of the counter where it met the wall. The glow formed a spotlight on her target who still leaned against the opposite wall. His black shirt gaped open, revealing that awesome chest. Her fingers had pulled his long, silky hair loose around his shoulders. He looked sexy, rumpled and entirely dangerous since he still wore his shoulder holster and gun. But she no longer feared him. His posture stiffened as she watched. Good. She wanted him on guard, wanted him to lose his cool. Her gaze dropped to the black trousers he wore. Some things just couldn’t be hidden. That willing and ready hard-on definitely wouldn’t be ignored. Not by her anyway.

  A smug smile lifted the corners of her mouth. Maybe he was right, maybe she shouldn’t believe everything she saw on television. But the one thing TV, movies and books alike had in common—at times like this the power of a determined woman could move mountains.

  She hoisted herself up onto the counter, the chilly surface making her buttocks flinch. She opened the jacket wide and spread her legs in invitation. His intent gaze followed her every move.

  She shouldered out of the jacket, let it fall onto the counter behind her. She watched that glittering gaze shift to her breasts. To further tempt him, she touched one taut peak. He’d made her that way. Had her breasts aching for more of his touch. His nostrils flared, his ragged breath audible in the otherwise silent room. She dropped her hand to her thigh, trailed her fingers toward the juncture there. Excitement rushed through her, settled in her sex. But it was his primal reaction that flooded her with the renewed heat of anticipation. He literally trembled. His jaw hardened. The effort to physically restrain the primitive need she had awakened undeniably visible.

  Now for the final move to render him helpless, she mused. She waited for him to have his fill of staring at her body, then, when his gaze met hers, she laid down the true gauntlet. “I hope that wasn’t the best you have to offer, Mr. Danes.”

  He closed the distance between them in one fluid stride. Cradled her face in his hands and issued an ultimatum of his own. “Just remember,” he warned, his deep voice as lethal as the savage gleam in his eyes, “you asked for this.”

  His mouth claimed hers in an open kiss so brutal she whimpered. But the pleasure of his touch…of her victory far outweighed the minor discomfort. The oxygen evaporated in her lungs like rain falling on a hot rock. His kiss proved every bit as relentless as the man, his hot tongue as masterful and bold as the pirate she’d likened him to on first sight. The feel of his trousers rasped against her wanton flesh. The counter held her at the perfect height for direct contact. Her trembling hands went to his fly. She wanted him now, wanted to feel him in her hands.

  He pulled back, pushed away her searching hands. “Don’t move,” he ordered, his tone nothing short of barbaric.

  That relentless gaze held her utterly paralyzed. The only muscle in her body able to move was her heart, it floundered helplessly. Her entire soul stilled, anticipating his next move.

  The hiss of metal gliding over metal accompanied the lowering of his fly. She wanted to look, couldn’t move…couldn’t take her eyes off his. Not even the blood roaring in her ears could drown out the sound of rustling fabric as he reached in and freed himself. A muscle in the granite of his jaw flexed. She dragged in a jagged breath, her lungs begging for air. Felt the heat of his sex and he hadn’t even touched her.

  His fingers clutched her thighs and dragged her closer to the counter’s edge. She rolled her pelvis in expectation, couldn’t look away from those devastatingly intense eyes.

  The first nudge made her gasp. Her eyes closed in ecstasy. His fingers threaded into her hair, cradled her head. “Look at me,” he whispered, commanded.

  Somehow she managed to open her eyes. Though she didn’t know how. She couldn’t think past the feel of him pressing into her. It had been so long since she’d felt this way, since she’d wanted anyone. And she’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Cole Danes.

  His fierce gaze holding her captive, he pushed beyond her opening, hesitated only a second. She cried out softly. Her body quivering, wanting. Then he thrust fully, didn’t let up until he was deep inside her and even then he reached back with one hand and ushered her more firmly against him, completing the seal. The fingers of that same hand glided down her leg, lifted it around his waist.

  “You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s the best I have to offer.”

  She nodded. Her body throbbed, felt filled to capacity and then some. She trembled violently, but with pleasure not fear. Closed her eyes at the sheer sweetness of it. It felt so good.

  He lowered his other hand, allowing her head to loll back as he trailed those long fingers along her other leg, lifted it, anchoring her completely around his waist.

  The sensation of being filled, of stretching to accommodate his generous size, intensified.

  “Look at me,” he repeated.

  Her lids fluttered open. Those dark eyes measured her expression, her reaction. The lines and angles of his face taut with restraint. That earring glinted in his ear reminding her again of a pirate on some ancient ship. He’d already rendered her utterly helpless. She could only wait for him to finish this. And here she thought she’d prove something. Not in this lifetime.

  He took his time, flexed his hips maybe an inch, a slow in and out, just enough to shatter any semblance of control she grappled for.

  “What do you want me to do, Angel?” One corner of that smug mouth lifted ever so slightly. “You wanted this, tell me what to do next.”

  Bastard. She tightened her legs around him, drawing him even deeper inside her. He didn’t flinch, showed no outward reaction. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel this,” she countered just as fiercely. “I know you do.”

  “You’re wasting your time,” he growled, putting his face closer to hers, teasing her lips with his own. “What do you want? Do you want me to make you come again? Just say it. Because that’s all you’re going to get from me.”

  She grabbed him by the shirt front and held on, determined not to let his uncaring words stop her. “Then shut up and do it.”

  Something changed in his eyes. A flash of surprise or maybe regret. He braced his hands on the counter and drew back, all the way to the tip, then drove into her with such force that she lost her breath. Again and again he withdrew, thrust deeply. She didn’t want it to happen this way. Didn’t want to let him do this…not like this. But she couldn’t stop her body’s plunge toward release once more.

  Everything around her faded to insignificance. All his funny little electronic devices. The madmen below. The fear for her aunt’s safety as well as her own. Nothing else mattered. She could only watch his unchanging face. Feel him sliding in and out of her. She wanted to resist…wanted to deny his power over her. But it was impossible.

  She came. Forcefully. Couldn’t hold out any longer, couldn’t block the sensations.

  His movements slowed.

  She forced her eyes open. Saw the sweat on his forehead, the muscle pulsing rapidly in his jaw. Her hopes fell, her thrashing heart wrenched painfully.

  But then she saw him tremble. Just a little.

  She pulled his face near once more, kissed him with all the desperation screaming inside her. “Don’t you dare stop,” she murmured.

  He made a sound that ripped through her emotions. A guttural reverberation of helpless remorse, something intensely vulnerable. Something totally unDaneslike.

  He thrust again. Shuddered visibly. She kept her arms around his neck, kept him close. Urged him on. He pumped in and out, his movements growing frantic. Not like before. Not controlled. Not brutal. Frantic
and desperate. Needy.

  Incredibly her utterly sated body reacted. Started to rush toward that peak of pure sensation all over again.

  He didn’t give in easily. He waited for her to catch up. Climaxes erupted simultaneously. This time it wiped her out. Every ounce of energy and emotion she possessed seeped from her as if she’d died in that final moment.

  But she wasn’t dead.

  And neither was he.

  He sagged against her. His weight making her tremble with relief. Making the tears stinging her eyes flow down her cheeks.

  She’d conquered him for just that one moment.

  Seen his vulnerability.

  And like the man, it was overpowering—shook her as nothing else ever had.

  Then she realized her mistake.

  With his vulnerability had come her own. She’d let down all her defenses in an effort to break his, had sacrificed herself to reach him.

  She’d fallen for him—fallen in love with a man incapable of loving her back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cole pulled out and quickly righted his trousers.

  What the hell had he done?

  He reached for the roll of paper hand towels mounted above the sink, pulled off a few and offered them to her. “Clean yourself up.”

  When she’d scooted off the counter he washed his hands and turned his back to give her some privacy.

  How could he have been so stupid?

  He’d been slowly losing it since laying eyes on her and now…Well, now he’d really screwed up.

  He never made mistakes like this.

  But she’d pushed him.

  He closed his eyes and swore softly.