by Karin Harlow
That was the last thing she wanted him to do. His gaze traveled over her body; she couldn’t have controlled the warmth that spread through her or the tightening of her skin even if her life had been at stake. He did things to her no other man ever had, and she doubted ever would.
“Angry because I didn’t stay for breakfast?” he asked.
She shrugged and dropped her handbag on the bed. She needed a drink. “I didn’t figure you for the type that did mornings.”
He slowly stood. She moved past him to look out the window. The sun blazed a red glow over the city. When he moved behind her, Jax held her breath. He brushed her hair from her neck and lowered his lips to her ear. “I would if I could.”
She steeled herself against him. Sex with him again, no matter how incredible, was not a good idea. More sex would just complicate things . . . even more. She moved away, yanked open the sliding glass door, and stepped out into the balmy San Francisco dusk.
He followed her.
“I have a proposition for you, Jax Cassidy,” he said.
She didn’t dare turn around. She didn’t trust herself.
“I’m listening.”
“Me and you team up and take care of a little business down in L.A. tomorrow night.”
His hands pressed against the back of her shoulders and slowly began to rub. She closed her eyes. The day’s tension strained her muscles. What she needed was a good hot soak in the tub and a full body massage. And a glass of really nice merlot. Or . . .
She bit back a moan of pleasure. Or she needed more of what Cross was doing. His big hands dug into her skin, his fingers moving across her bunched muscles, loosening them.
“What kind of business?”
“Solution business.”
Jax stiffened. And waited.
This was it.
His big hands massaged her forearms and her biceps, then moved once more to her shoulders, to her neck. He dug his fingers into her hair and massaged her scalp. She fought the urge to lean back into him and let him do that to her entire body. He pushed her head to the left, then the right, releasing more tension. But a different type of tension was building in her loins. His fingers moved around to her waist, then her hips. He pressed softly against her back.
“Are you saying—” She gulped when his hands cupped the cradle of her hips and pressed her against him. She felt the sharp ridge of his erection against the small of her back. “—what I think you’ re saying?”
His fingers splayed across her lower belly. “Yes,” he whispered against her ear.
Jax squeezed her eyes shut and steeled herself. Suspicion immediately reared its head, mixing with desire. Unfortunately, the desire was winning.
She wanted him. She told herself it didn’t mean anything except a stress releaser on a really shitty day.
His fingers swept lower to her mons. “Don’ t,” she barely managed.
“Stop me.”
She didn’ t.
“Have you ever made love on a balcony?” he asked.
Jax didn’t trust her voice. She shook her head.
“Me either,” he said as he unbuttoned the top button of her slacks. Slowly, he pulled the zipper down. “Do you have another pair of these?”
“Pants?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
He grabbed the fabric on either side of the zipper and pulled. A rending tear, followed by the soft swishing sound of her slacks landing on the patio floor, startled her. “You’ ll need them. Eventually.”
He hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and easily disposed of them. Excitement sizzled through her. Warm air brushed against her thighs. He pulled her against him and lowered his lips to her ear and nibbled her there. “Have you ever made love beneath a sunset?”
“No,” she croaked.
He unzipped his pants and parted her thighs from behind with his knee. “Me either.”
Jax grabbed ahold of the railing to keep her balance. He trailed his hands up her waist to her breasts, cupping them in his big hands, and pressed hotly against her bare bottom. She leaned back and held her breath when he kissed her on the neck behind her ear. His tongue was warm, wet, and when it swirled along the shell of her ear, Jax moaned. She let go of one hand on the railing and grabbed his right hand and trailed it down her belly to her heat.
When he dipped a finger into her, Jax caught her breath and stood on her toes. His breath tickled her ear. Anticipation of all of him inside of her was almost more than she could bear. She bit back words begging him to quench the fire in her blood.
Her body shuddered as his thick finger slid deeper into her waiting wantonness. Jax pressed her head against his chest and closed her eyes. He felt so good.
“You missed me?” he softly asked, sliding his finger deeper, hitting that soft sensitive spot that drove her wild. Waves of pleasure rippled through her.
“Yes,” she hoarsely whispered. She had missed him.
He moved his fingertip slowly back and forth across the sensitive spot as he pressed his swollen groin against her bare bottom. The sensations it caused were deliciously unbearable. Jax bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. As much as she detested her weakness for him, she loved how he made her feel.
“I missed you too,” he said against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. “I missed the scent of your skin, the taste of your sweat, the way your body responds to my slightest touch.”
Her hips moved hotly against the slow rhythmic movements of his hand. Jax rose to her toes as the tide of her arousal began to curl into a maverick wave.
She moaned as her body began to liquefy. Her thighs tightened around his hand, her body drew taut, and just when she thought she could stand it no longer, she shattered.
Everything shattered. Her body, her will, her control, her resolve, all of it, gone. In that one blinding moment of pure pleasure, nothing else mattered. She rode out the orgasm in quick, jerky movements, her body contorting as all synapses flared. Marcus slowed his rhythm to compensate the overload of sensations.
Jax gulped for breath as her lungs worked overtime to get oxgyen into her system. Marcus held her tightly against his chest. Jax licked her dry lips. She wanted more.
As if reading her thoughts, Marcus slipped his finger from her wet body, replacing it with his straining erection. Jax moaned loudly as he entered her. Inch by inch he filled her. The feeling of him filling her as his slow, rhythmic fingers strummed her mons was almost too much for her to handle. She felt his imprint everywhere. Not just where he physically touched her. He was everywhere. The way her body accepted him was as if they were designed for each other. In sync. Receptive. Complete.
Once again, she closed her eyes, leaned back, and gave in to the wild wantonness that was him. And once again, she tumbled headlong into a tortuously wicked orgasm that left her gasping for air.
Marcus’s powerful body pumped heatedly into her. Sweat slickened their bodies. Marcus’s breath singed her neck. His teeth scraped along her jugular. But he did not bite her. Jax arched her neck offering herself to him. He growled low, digging his fingers into her hips, and in a wild primal rush, his body nearly lifted hers as he came.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Jax stared out across the city as her body jerked against the one behind her. And finally their wild ride slowed, and, still connected, they watched the final descent of the sun into the western horizon.
Marcus moved slightly, releasing her. If it had been up to him, they’d have stayed connected and watched the sun rise. Instead, he watched her body quiver as she reached down to pick up her destroyed clothing. He didn’t miss her frown. “I owe you,” he chuckled.
He expected her to turn those fierce green eyes on him and say he damn well owed her. But she moved past him without looking at him and went into the bathroom. He zipped up, pulled a chair from the room and onto the patio, and sat down. Perching his feet up on the railing to the balcony, he gazed across the concrete jungle. The city sounds were loud. The weat
her unseasonably warm. Rarely did it get into the eighties, much less the nineties, as it had today.
He liked the sultriness of the air. Almost as much as he liked the way Jax’s body had slickened in excitement.
He smelled her when she returned, and he took a deep breath. Damn, he liked her. Too much. He reminded himself that didn’t mean he could trust her.
“Tell me about L.A.,” she said, perfectly composed and wearing the exact same style of black tailored trousers he’d ripped off her. Just like a Boy Scout, always prepared.
He stood and offered her the chair. She shook her head and leaned against the rail.
“Can we talk about you first?”
Jax looked at him, surprised. “Do I have to pass a personality test or something?”
Marcus smiled and nodded. “Something like that.”
“You can ask, but I won’t guarantee answers.”
“Why do you do what you do?”
“As in hits?”
“Yes.”
“I like the money.”
He raised his brows, not wanting to hear that answer. “That’s it?”
Jax let out a long, expressive breath and looked over the patio to the darkening sky. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like bad guys. I especially don’t like bad guys who prey on innocents. I think the devil has a special place in hell for them, and I like to be the one to send them there.”
“What happened to you?” he carefully asked.
She shook her head and he watched her body stiffen.
“Jax,” he softly said, “we all have our demons. What’s yours?”
She turned around and faced him, her face expressionless. “I was brutally raped, then mutilated, by a human trafficker. The guys who were supposed to have my back never showed. I barely escaped with my life. When I healed, I went back for the bastard and killed him. I’m on the lam, Cross. A wanted woman. I work alone and prefer not to get involved on any level with any person, or,” she smiled, “vampire.”
Marcus uncrossed his legs and sat up. “You’ re going to have a partner in L.A.”
She smiled a big, bright, disarming smile that seemed completely out of place, considering the subject matter. Regardless, it warmed his cold, cold heart. “I guess I can make an exception for you.”
“Good, because this isn’t a one-man job.”
“Beside the fact that you’ ll want proof I can deliver.”
It was his turn to smile. “Sweetheart, I know you can deliver.”
She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, “Then let’s talk business.”
Marcus got serious. “Dimitri Skarskov. Russian dissident who is working his way up the ranks of L.A.’s up-and-coming Mirov cartel. They run the gamut. But Dimitri has a penchant for smuggling highly trained al-Qaeda operatives into Canada, then the U.S. He was responsible for building a cell in Fremont, a city just across the bay. He passed them off as Afghani refugees. They were responsible for the bank bombings in Oakland last year. Word on the street is he’s working on constructing another group. The Solution wants him and his pipeline eliminated.”
“How can you ensure the pipeline will die with him?”
“He’s got all the connections. It’s the reason he’s managed to evade Mirov’s fist. Mirov’s not going to move on him for fear his Middle East connections will retaliate.”
“But if he’s a part of the cartel, why would Mirov want to eliminate him?”
“He pays for the cartel protection but operates outside of it. It pisses Mirov off that he doesn’t have control of that very lucrative pipeline. But our intel tells us Skarskov is ready to share. There’s just too much of a demand. He can’t handle all of the traffic himself. We need to take him out now before he meets with Mirov two nights from now and hands over his intel.”
“Why aren’t the feds after this guy?”
“They don’t know who he is. And even if they did, by the time they got around to nabbing him, more lives would be lost.”
“OK.”
“He’s on his way out of Toronto as we speak. Tomorrow night, we take him out.”
Jax nodded. “In L.A.?”
“Yes. He lives in the Hiramoto Towers. It’s a tough nut to crack and we won’t be able to go in from the bottom. So we’ re going in from the top.”
“The rooftop?”
He nodded. “Have you jumped before?”
“Yeah.”
“The tower is sixty-five stories high. He lives on the forty-eighth floor. I’ ll drop you on the roof, then you go in from the patio. Eliminate him and grab his laptop. We want his intel as well.”
He watched her for the slightest bit of resistance. And saw none. He grinned, but his words were serious. “I’ ll catch you if you fall.”
“I won’t fall.”
“Meet me at the SFO domestic VIP terminal tomorrow at this time. We’ ll fly down together and back in the same night.”
“And when the mission is accomplished, you’ ll introduce me to Lazarus?”
Marcus nodded, questioning his own selfish reasons for bringing Jax in. It wasn’t about Lazarus, it wasn’t about her, it was about him. He wanted a way to be with her. She made him feel alive. He was being selfish with her life and with The Solution’s future survival. But he told himself he had complete control. If Lazarus threatened her, he would let her go. “Be careful what you ask for, Jax. He’s not an easy man.”
“I can handle him.”
Jax sat silent for a long time after Marcus left. Part of her had wanted him to stay, but the realistic part of her had known that would have been impossible. She had work to do. After a quick shower she called Shane, then called Godfather. She gave him the lowdown.
“How do you feel about this, Cassidy? Is it a setup?” Godfather asked.
“I think it’s legit. This is classic Lazarus. Skarskov is a terrorist trainer. Terrorists he’s assembled and trained who have killed Americans. So long as I perform, I’m in.” She paused for a thoughtful moment. “But if Cross doesn’t take me to Lazarus after the hit, then we’ ll have to find a way to draw Lazarus out and take him down.”
“I’ ll work on Plan B. In the meantime, I haven’t been sitting here twiddling my thumbs, Cassidy. I ran with your intel. And apparently there is such a thing as a vampire, and regular methods of extermination won’t work.”
“I’ ll make sure I sharpen my wooden stakes.” It sounded ludicrous, but what the hell was she supposed to do?
“That might not be a bad idea. I have spoken at length with renowned parapsychologist Doctor Yuri Romanov. He assures me vampires walk among the living all over the world.”
“So I’m not crazy?”
“No. One thing you cannot allow, Cassidy, is no more exchange of blood. The doc told me if a vampire takes blood and the source is left alive, the vampire can find the source anytime, anywhere. Did he offer his blood to you?”
“No. But I bit him. And yeah, I got some of his blood.”
“How do you feel?”
“Stronger. Faster. My senses are on fire.”
She heard Godfather’s frustrated sigh before he said, “Do not, I repeat, do not exchange blood with him again.”
“Okay.”
“According to Dr. Romanov, there are several ways to kill a vampire or, at the very least, immobilize one for a short time. A wooden stake directly through the heart, a silver-tipped wooden bullet directly through the heart, and direct prolonged sunlight, which is more like five minutes. Then most are toast, except the very old ones or the very powerful ones; those types can withstand some sun exposure.”
“How do we know old and powerful when we see one—ask him?”
“No, treat all of them as if they can withstand sunlight to a certain degree. Lazarus claims to have a sun sensitivity, and the one time Rowland met with him during the day he was covered from head to toe. No skin showing.”
“Cross isn’t old but he’s powerful,” Jax said, thinking of their tryst on the
balcony as the sun had set. “He can withstand sunlight to a point.”
“Silver can neutralize a vampire. It burns them. Throw a silver net over one and you have him. I have Foreman working on silver-tipped wooden bullets and stakes. As I said, it must go directly through the heart. Not to the left or the right, a direct hit, Cassidy. Or you’ ll only piss him off. You’ ll have everything you need with instructions by the time you leave tomorrow. I want you miked.”
Jax shook her head. “No. Cross’s sense of hearing is like sonar. I’ ll attach my GPS chip to my bra or something. You’ ll be able to follow me. I’ ll have my cell as well. I’m sure I’ ll be miked to Cross. He’s taking me in, I get to do the dirty work.”
“I’ ll have a dossier on Skarskov to you in an hour.”
“I’ ll be looking for it.”
As she hung up, Jax took a deep breath and looked up as Shane entered her room. “I could eat a horse,” she said.
“Let’s go,” Shane said.
No sooner had their steaks been served than Jax’s cell rang to the tune of Godfather Part I. Shane snorted and shook his head. “Go ahead,” she said, eyeing her steak longingly.
“We’ ve got a major problem,” Godfather said.
Jax scowled and looked up at Shane.
“Shoot,” Jax said.
“Skarskov is undercover FBI.”
“No shit.”
“He’s been under for almost two years and is about to blow the lid off of the Mirov cartel.”
“I guess we need to find a way to eliminate him and save him at the same time,” Jax said, spearing a chunk of rare filet. She plunked it in her mouth and chewed. “Any ideas how we’ re going to do that?”
“I’ ll find a way and get back to you. When do you meet with Mercer?”
“As soon as we’ re done with dinner, Shane and I are heading down to the marina and waiting for him.”
“Keep me posted,” Godfather said before he hung up.
Jax looked across the table at Shane and voiced what had been on her mind since they’d left the Rowland estate. “I think Sophia Rowland is involved with a vampire.”
