Enemy Lover

by Karin Harlow

  Cross grinned, showing his bright white teeth. “Thank you,” he said softly, stepping past her.

  Jax closed the door behind him and locked it. Putting her hands behind her back, she leaned against the door and eyed him when he turned that dangerous smile on her. “So tell me.”

  He laid his jacket over the chair back by the desk. As if he were staying. “Tell you what?”

  “Cross, stop being an evasive ass. Why were those guys after me?”

  He shrugged. “They weren’t after you per se. They were after the person who came after the guy you were chasing.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  He leaned up against the bathroom doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “It could if you told me why you were chasing him.”

  Jax fought a smile. He was sly with his angle. “One of the guests was attacked. I was bored. So, I followed the bread crumbs.” Jax pushed off the door and walked toward him. “How did you know I was here?”

  Cross casually shrugged. “Like the organization you work for, the one I work for has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Jax yanked the big fluffy bathrobe from the counter where she had left it. She slipped it on, then dropped the damp towel that still clung to her. She watched Cross’s eyes dip for a look before she secured the velour sash around her waist.

  Jax ignored his “organization” reference. She turned and asked over her shoulder, “Why did you call me off tonight?”

  He moved behind her, his big body warm and inviting. His large hand brushed her hair from her shoulders. He bent down to where her arm met her shoulder. Gently he brushed his lips across her skin. Jax remained rigid. She was not going to get all gooey like she had earlier. This time she would control every move. “I changed my mind,” he replied.

  Jax turned slowly and looked up into his hooded eyes. “Did you come here to give me my alternative mission?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned that grin again. “Maybe not.”

  Jax eyed him for a long, long time. He was quite a specimen. Big. Broad. Muscular. His hands were the size of dinner plates. His fingers thick and long, his nails square and neatly trimmed. His face. His face was classic Greco-Roman in style and grace. Firm yet boldly sculpted. The scar that ran from his right eye down his face and into his shoulder only added to the dangerous air that swirled around him like his unique scent.

  But it was his crystalline eyes, so blue, so clear, so hypnotic that gave her pause every time she looked into them. While he was a reticent, quiet man, a killer, assassin and lost soul in so many ways, his eyes spoke volumes. Pain, deep and angry, lingered in them, just below the surface.

  “Who really killed that little girl in D.C.?” She wanted to know. Had to know.

  He reached out a hand to her cheek. She stood rigidly. She watched those oh-so-expressive eyes harden. His jaw set. His dark brows pulled together over his aquiline nose. “Blalock strangled her.”

  “Would you have eliminated her if she’d witnessed what you did to Blalock?”

  Cross remained silent for a long time, his eyes never once blinking or wavering from hers. “There was another girl in that room that night. She’s home now, with her parents, where she should be.”

  His confession stunned her. “Why did you tell me that?”

  “So that you would see your intel is off. Don’t believe everything you’ re told in preop briefings.”

  Jax contemplated his statement. She did not deny the fact that intelligence could and did get certain facts wrong or overlooked other ones. But he hadn’t come to her room to tell her that. “Why are you really here?” she asked.

  He grinned a half grin. “Because we both want the same thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “To blow off some steam. It’s been quite a night.”

  “Yes, it has. But if I had wanted more action, I would have stayed out. I’m in for the night. I want to be alone.”

  “No—you don’ t.”

  “What, you’ re a mind reader now?”

  “No, Jax Cassidy, I just know you. We’ re too much alike.”

  He knew her name now. “How so?”

  “At our core we’ re both primal.” He moved in closer. “We both come alive when the chase begins.” He traced his fingertips along the curve of her collarbone. “We are masters of our craft.” His fingers dipped between her deep cleavage. “We are both sensualists.” He slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “And we both want to connect on the most basic of levels.” He brushed his nose across the top of her head and inhaled her. “I didn’t lie when I told you I wanted to fuck you all night long.”

  Jax held her breath for a long moment and composed her swelling desire. He did things to her with only a fingertip that her ex hadn’t been able to do with his entire body.

  “I want to take you to the moon, then to the stars and to the sun. I want to fuck you so hard and so deep a part of me will stay inside you forever.”

  “You’ re such a romantic,” Jax said, the sarcasm not lost on him.

  He smiled. “I’ ve never told a woman that before.”

  “I feel so special.” She shook her head, feeling delirious with desire. “But understand, I don’t want to keep any part of you.”

  “Yes, you do.” He slid his hand down her belly, unknotting the sash. When it fell away, her robe opened and cool air rushed against her skin. She shivered. He sank to his knees and pulled her against his lips. His hands trailed up her bare legs to her ass. Jax bit back a moan. His skin was warm and smooth against hers. It felt good. Solid. Strong. But it was wrong. She wanted control. She wanted to lead, to decide if and when this would happen. Not him.

  Jax raised her foot and planted it against his chest. His fingers clamped around her instep, his thumb caressed her skin. His other hand brushed the inside of her thigh. Jax clenched her jaw. “I want to know why you pulled the plug on tonight and what I have to do to get an audience with Lazarus.”

  “Give us both what we want and I’ ll tell you.”

  “You want sex, I want answers.”

  He pressed his lips to her instep and softly kissed her. Jax nearly swooned. When he dragged his tongue across the skin there, the leg she was standing on wavered. He looked up at her and said, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is if you’ re me.”

  He nodded, let go of her foot and slowly stood. Cool air wafted between them doing nothing to cool her sultry body down. Jax wanted to scream at him to take her, just throw her on the bed and impale her. But she didn’ t.

  They stood facing each other for long-drawn-out minutes. His hooded blue eyes waiting for her to just say the word. Her body screaming for her to just do it, ease the torturous ache that consumed her. Jax moved to the other side of the room, putting the king-sized bed between them.

  “Are you going to bite me?” She had to know. The thought terrified her and, on a very basic level, thrilled her.

  He cracked a smile. His eyes actually twinkled under the lamplight. “Only if you want me to.”

  Jax swallowed hard as their gazes locked. She was going to burn in hell for what she was about to do. “My terms,” she whispered.

  Cross’s eyes glittered like sapphires on a sunny beach. He nodded so slightly that she wasn’t sure she had witnessed it.

  “Strip,” she hoarsely said, hoping that her plan would get her answers and keep her integrity intact.

  TWENTY

  Amazing. That was the word Marcus would use to describe Jax Cassidy at that moment. He’d told her what he was, killed in front of her. He’d fully expected her to run for the hills. Instead, she stood there and challenged him. Brave, brave girl. So why should her command to strip surprise him? Of course she would take charge. Of course she would try to handle him. Use him. Make him believe that the job was the only reason she would give him her body.

  He didn’t buy it.

  He knew she was sexually excited. He could smell it on her. He could
see it in the sharp flare of her nostrils, feel the heat of her want through her open pores. There was no way she could deny it. In truth, he couldn’t imagine her doing so. She was all ballsy honesty, more likely to slap his face than lie to it. Yet, beneath it all, he detected fear. And he knew it was founded. Her blood did not lie. She had been brutalized by a man. He’d sensed it the first time he’d tasted her.

  It was a wonder she could feel desire for him at all. But she did.

  That fact not only increased his own desire, making blood pulse in his cock with the same thundering beat his heart played out against his chest, but it also told him their intense attraction was unprecedented. For them both. That in and of itself intrigued him. As a human, he had never felt such violent desire for a woman. To feel it now, when he was soulless, was virtually unbearable. She was a shot of adrenaline in his mundane life.

  After he’d had her, would his want for her lesson, or would it burn as savagely in his veins as it did now? He hoped it flared brighter. At least for a while.

  Unhurried, he silently watched her. Her eyes boldly held his. Sparks of excitement gave them a preternatural glint.

  He knew she had motives other than sex on her mind, but so did he.

  He had questions and only she had the answers. Oh, he could snag one of her cronies, but it would not be nearly as interesting wrestling the information from one of them as it would be her. Besides, men bled more than women, and he wasn’t in the mood to get his hands dirty. Not that way. He understood her need for control, but he would not give it to her. Never. That was his to command.

  He unbuttoned his fitted black shirt one button at a time. The slight tremble in his fingers surprised him. Then it angered him. While she was most definitely a cut above every other woman he had had, she was still just a woman. And a conniving one at that. In a few minutes, he would find out if his fire would be extinguished or burn hotter.

  Taking a step forward, he pulled the tails of his shirt out from his trousers. To his surprise, Jax put her hand up. “Stop.”

  He hesitated for a heartbeat before he stopped. Her fear had spiked. He wasn’t the man who’d brutalized her. Letting go of the fabric, he dropped his hands to his sides. “Come here,” he softly commanded.

  She shook her head but stepped toward him anyway. When she stopped an arm’s length away, he nudged her chin up with his hand. He saw the reflection of his fiery gaze in her eyes. “I won’t hurt you like the other one.”

  Her body stiffened. The color drained from her cheeks. Slapping his hand away, she stalked to the other side of the room. When she spun around to face him, her eyes blazed like emerald coals. “I don’t know what you think you know, but give me enough respect by not pretending with me.”

  He cocked a brow. “Pretend? How so?”

  “You tell me you want to fuck me from the inside out. How am I supposed to take that?”

  “Exactly as it’s intended.” She shook her head and looked at him, incredulous. He explained, “You and me, we’ re driven by pure animal instinct. And while there may be some hurt involved, it’s the good kind. The kind that makes you want more. That’s how it will be between us, Jax.” He stalked closer to her until only inches separated them. “Hard, furious, primal.” He traced a finger along her bottom lip. “That’s how you take it.”

  Her body trembled, and he felt her desire shift. While she was intrigued, her fear evolved into something more complex. She no longer feared just physical pain but emotional torment as well. He smiled to himself.

  She had every right to fear his emotional attack. He didn’t like to be played, and, though he was Jonesing hard for her, he would extract the information he needed one way or another. Either by seduction or . . . by torment.

  He frowned for a moment at the thought of hurting her. Of extinguishing a light that burned so bright. But then he reminded himself of who he was. What he was.

  He preferred seduction to pain and would not hesitate to use more extreme measures. But only if he had to.

  “Why should I give you what you want?” she softly demanded.

  “Because,” he answered as softly, “it’s what you want, too.”

  “Then the chase will end.”

  Ah, she sounded disappointed. He crooked a smile.

  Marcus slid his arm around her waist and, with his free hand, slid the thick velour robe from her body. She caught her breath. Behind his trousers, his cock flared. He pressed her to his bare chest and fought the sublime feeling of her tits digging into him. “And then,” he softly said as he lowered his lips to hers, “it will begin again. But with higher stakes.” And although he had no choice but to destroy her when her usefulness ended, all the same, he’d make them both burn with pleasure first.

  His body caught fire when she kissed him back. Her lips were so soft, like a newborn’s skin. Her ardor was open, honest, and innocent in its humanness. Her tongue swirled across his lips, along the tips of his fangs, touching him more deeply than if he’d been inside of her. He swelled against her, tightening his hold. She did not pull away. No, to his surprise and pleasure, she melded more intimately into him.

  His darkness threatened to overcome him. He wanted to sink his fangs into her, drink his fill of her as he fucked her. He squeezed his eyes shut as he envisioned doing just that.

  Her heart beat frantically against his chest. The whoosh of her warm blood as it coursed recklessly through her veins called to him to take it. He fisted his hand into her hair and pulled her head back, exposing her long, creamy neck. He opened his eyes, and through the fire of his passion, he saw true fear in hers. Her wide eyes stared helplessly at him. Her breath pulsed in short, harsh puffs against his cheeks. Her muscles tightened. Yet her eyes, though terrified, did not say no. He released her anyway and carefully stepped to the other side of the room. Why he gave her quarter, he did not know.

  Raking his fingers through his hair, he turned to face her. “Tell me who sent you and why,” he hoarsely demanded, knowing damn well he should have begun this little tryst with an interrogation first.

  “I told you, I’m an independent.”

  Despite his frustration, he almost smiled. Even when frightened, she gave as good as she got. The image of her taking out those gangbangers earlier burned bright in his memory. It had been all he’d been able to do not to come to her rescue—until the very end, when she’d needed it. Her moxy had been admirable then, it was admirable now.

  But he wanted the truth.

  He lowered his head, as if he was preparing to attack. Of course, she read his intent and did the same. “You have no idea who you’ re tangling with, Jax Cassidy.”

  She moved around in the small space. “I guess you didn’t get the memo about who you were tangling with.”

  “I spent years learning the fine art of torture. Do you want me to extract the information I want that way?”

  “I’ ve spent years learning how not to give in to the most heinous of torturers.”

  He read a bluff when he saw one.

  He grabbed her right arm and yanked her hard toward him, but not before she got in a solid kick to his groin. He grunted, but the pain was gone as soon as it registered. “You shouldn’t have done that.” He yanked her around and, with her back to his chest, he bear-hugged her. As she struggled against him in a vain attempt to free herself, her ass rubbed against his cock. The rage of his desire was unbearable. Damn her!

  “Tell me, damn it!” he hissed against her ear. “Or I’ ll force it from you.”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ ll make you wish you were never born.”

  “Do your worst then.”

  Marcus counted slowly to ten. As he did, his passion waged war with his control. If she didn’t relent, he’d be forced to show her the true animal he was. Roughly, he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. She landed spread-eagled on the comforter. Stunned, she stared at him.

  He crawled over her and threatened her. “I’m not going to give you a second ch
ance!”

  “I don’t want one!” she screamed.

  He laughed harshly and shook his head. “Then, my lovely, I won’t give you one.”

  He dug his fingers into her thick hair and brought her lips up to his. “Kiss me,” he commanded. Her short, warm breaths pulsated against his lips. He could smell her fury mingled with her desire. He was on the verge of losing what little control he still possessed.

  She stunned him when she grasped his head to her, and in a mad rush, lips against lips, teeth against teeth, and tongue against tongue, she kissed him.

  Jax’s body exploded with sensation. The overload was terrifyingly exhilarating. She felt as if she’d been free-falling. No fear. No anger at herself for giving in to what they both wanted. Her endorphins had shoved it all aside, and her instinct to mate took over. And that was what it boiled down to at its most basic. Forget her mission. She wanted Marcus Cross, a dominant male, to take her, Jax Cassidy, a dominant female, and do what came natural to every propagating mammal on the earth. Mate.

  In a flash of movement, Marcus rid himself of his clothing, then his hands grabbed her ass and his knee parted her thighs. His swollen cock jutted against her hip. She wanted him to slow down, to savor this—this mad rush of need—to give her time. To adjust, to prepare. It had been so long. The image of Carlos Montes’s sweaty, fat body undulating on top of her as he’d tried unsuccessfully to stick his little dick in her swirled in front of her.

  God, she thought she had locked that part of her life firmly away.

  Jax cried out as a wave of fear returned. Cross stilled above her. She opened her eyes to find his blazing blue ones quietly questioning her. Embarrassment engulfed her. She could do this. It was just sex!

  He raised his hand to her. It took every bit of control Jax possessed not to flinch. Gently, he dug his fingers into her hair, cupped the back of her head with his big palm, raised up, and pressed her softly into the comforter. For a long minute, he peered at her. Giving her time to work through what she had to. His sudden patience, completely out of character for the hard-ass he was, softened her. Her body loosened.