Flash Point

by Brooke Blaine

  Fuck he feels unbelievable.

  Better than she ever imagined, better than her memories of the other night. His kiss now was ravenous, as if he would never get a chance to do it again.

  Her nails raked against his back, and she pulled him closer as his hands moved to her breasts, taking greedy handfuls as he bit down on her bottom lip. His thumbs circled her stiff peaks through her bra, and she arched into him, her body restless to feel his mouth on every inch of her naked body.

  As his hand trailed down from her breast, her pussy throbbed in anticipation, yearning for his hands, his mouth, his cock. His fingers reached her first, rubbing through her jeans. She wouldn’t be shocked if she’d soaked through them already. Then he unbuttoned her pants and pulled the zipper down, before sliding his hand inside to cup between her thighs.

  “Oh fuck,” Jason said, his voice ragged. “So wet…”

  The way his fingers moved over her spiked a wicked rush of heat and had her craving more.

  “Tell me you want me,” he whispered. “Tell me you need this.”

  “I want…I need…” she tried, but the pressure building between her thighs made it hard to focus on anything other than how incredible his hands felt on her.

  “Let me feel you,” he told her. “Don’t come until my lips are down there to taste you.”

  A shudder racked her body, and she tried to hold off the impending orgasm, but it was getting closer, closer…

  “We can’t do this in here,” he said against her lips, removing his hand, and then swept her off her feet and into his arms. She kissed him with trembling lips as he carried her to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him and laying her on the bed.

  With one swift pull, her jeans were off, and Jason was kneeling between her thighs. He pushed her shirt up and over her head, then tossed it on the ground before removing his own.

  Her panties were still on, and his thumbs were caressing her through the material, stoking the fire back to blazing. Their eyes roamed over each other in the darkness, their labored breaths the only sound in the room. She wanted to see him, all of him, but she wasn’t about to move away to open the curtain, and she sure as hell didn’t want him to stop. Her eyes adjusted until she could make out the strong lines of him: his broad shoulders and powerful chest, the V-cut of his lower abs that disappeared into his jeans, the button left undone and hanging open, just waiting for her to unzip.

  He was the sexiest thing she’d ever laid eyes on, and he was there, touching her, wanting her. He’s mine.

  “So fucking sexy,” he said before sliding down the bed and pushing her legs further apart. His tongue licked a warm path over her slit, the cotton material providing a barrier of friction that had her hips bowing off the bed.

  He lifted his head, and she could just make out a smile.

  “You like that,” he stated, and before she could agree, his head was back between her thighs, his tongue rubbing firmly up and down and driving her out of her mind.

  “Oh God,” she rasped, rocking her hips against his mouth.

  When he sucked her clit into his mouth she cried out, grabbing his head to pull him closer or push him away, the pleasure was too much to stand. His mouth left her only briefly, for him to pull her briefs off, before it was back on her, picking up where he left off. He ate at her like a man starving, thrusting his tongue deep and gripping her hips to keep her from moving away as she writhed underneath him. He moved back to her clit as he pushed a finger inside her, and then two, curving them up to graze against her sweet spot, and within seconds, her orgasm overtook her, knocking the breath out of her lungs.

  “Fuck,” he growled.

  As she came down from the high, he moved off the bed and removed his pants and boxer briefs in one fell swoop. Before she knew it, his lips were on hers, and she could taste the salty sweetness of herself on his lips. His hands went around to her back to unclasp her bra, and she hastily pulled it off, wanting him to see all of her. She’d never felt this brave or open or vulnerable, but he made her want to share every part of herself, even the physical.

  At the look of lust in his eyes when she revealed herself to him, she thought, Especially the physical.

  “You’re so damn perfect,” he told her, his fingers tracing down her neck and over the curves of her chest, past the flat plane of her stomach, flirting with the soft skin of her bare mound. “The most stunning thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  His hand trailed back up to her neck, cupping her head as he took her lips again, his naked body finally pressing against hers, like she’d been dying for. She dug her fingers into his ass and raised her hips against his, wanting the friction back between her thighs. He was hard, and as he rubbed his shaft against her wet heat, he leaned down to take one of her ripe nipples into his mouth.

  “Jason,” she moaned as he sucked on her, one of her hands coming up to hold him to her breast. Her hips began to move with his, and she reached down to wrap her fingers around the length of him, already slippery from the evidence of her orgasm and arousal. He pumped himself through her fist, and she relished the feel of him, wanting him closer. Inside her. She led the tip of him to her opening and whimpered when he pulled back.

  His eyes were intense as he stared at her, and several heartbeats passed before she felt the head of his cock teasing as it slid up and down, waiting at her entrance as if for permission.

  Taking her lips again, he whispered, “Please,” and she answered by lifting her hips.

  He sank inside her slowly, keeping his eyes on hers as she spread her legs further to accommodate the size of him. And when she felt the fullness of him stretching her in a deliciously carnal way, she didn’t move, wanting to feel him inside her like this forever.

  But he had other plans. He drew himself halfway out and pushed back inside, again and again, the pace getting faster with every drive of his hips. As her pleasure rose, her core clenched him with every thrust he made, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

  “More,” he told her. “I need more of you.”

  Moving back to kneel between her thighs, he lifted her off the bed and pulled her on top of him in a sitting position.

  It was so much deeper and intimate this way, grinding down so that her clit grazed the base of his shaft and her breasts brushed against his chest. The sensations were overwhelming, but nothing compared to the way he was looking at her—reverently and in awe. As if with this final connection, their souls had merged and she’d branded her mark on him.

  Gripping the back of her neck with one hand, he kissed her, and she felt his passion through every fiber of her aroused body. She circled her hips and squeezed her inner muscles around him, their movements becoming frenzied and wild as the inevitable peak drew near.

  So close…fuck, so close.

  He reached down between them and grasped her clit between his fingertips, stroking, and that was all it took to send her over.

  “Yes,” he said when she began to shake. “Come on me, Katherine. Come while I’m deep inside you.”

  She cried out his name and dug her nails into his back as he held her close, her body bucking, and pleasure, vicious and exhilarating, tore through her. Then, as her core contracted around his cock, he let out a roar, falling apart in her arms.

  As they began to still, she leaned forward so that her forehead touched his, his breath a whisper on her lips.

  * * *

  HE’D BEEN INSATIABLE, taking her again twice before collapsing on the bed and pulling her into his arms. Her body felt thoroughly used and sated, and she sighed, a happy, blissful sigh, content to lie there in comfortable silence. He kissed the top of her head, and she nuzzled in closer.

  “How much time do we have left?” she asked.

  “Not enough.”

  Never enough. But someday soon…

  “When all of this is over, I don’t want to hide,” she told him, interlacing her fingers with the ones he had draped over her shoulder. When he didn’t say
anything, she looked up at him, trying to read his expression. “What do you want?”

  His arm tightened around her, bringing her closer to him as he cupped her face. “I want you safe. I want you happy.”

  She smiled and turned her head to kiss his palm. Her eyelids grew heavy as she lay there in the safety of his embrace, and though she struggled to keep them open and not waste one second of their time together, they closed anyway, and she began to drift into sleep.

  But there was one more thing she wanted to tell him.

  “Jason?” she murmured, as her mind became foggy and she lingered on the edge of consciousness. “I love you.”

  HE LAY THERE staring up at the ceiling, one arm behind his head and the other being used as Katherine’s pillow. Every now and then she snuggled in closer, just as she was doing now. He bent down to press a kiss against the top of her head and breathed in the perfume of her hair.

  Her sheets were haphazardly thrown over their bottom halves, so it came just beneath her hipbone, leaving the long, creamy trail of her bare. His lips rubbed against her hair while he admired the view. Though every warning bell in his body was going off and Kirkpatrick would arrive any minute, he remained content to lie there for a little while longer, to feel her breathing deeply against him.

  Three little words had been spoken tonight. Three little words that left him irrevocably altered. But they weren’t little at all.

  They were life-changing promises whispered in the dark, confessions of devotion and trust, of hope and dreams and a future. What had he done to deserve those three words? He was the last person worthy of Katherine’s affections, and yet he needed them.

  She’d broken through his barriers, touching him in a way he hadn’t felt before. It was an ache he didn’t realize needed to be eased and filled by another. And now that he had her…now that he’d thrown himself off a cliff with no net…he couldn’t turn back now. He’d made his decision when he’d followed through on their kiss, and he wasn’t a man of regrets. Well, just one regret. But there was nothing to be done about that now, so he pushed the thought from his mind.

  Returning his focus to the woman beside him, he ran his hand down her arm. Her skin was cool to the touch, so he kicked up the covers and, as much as he hated to, pulled the sheet up to her shoulders. She sighed in her sleep and curled in tighter against him.

  Lying there, in the quiet of the early evening with the beautiful woman he’d come to admire in the crook of his arm, he almost felt at peace. The outside world could wait while he soaked in this moment for just a little while longer.

  He’d made a decision tonight. One that would ignite the world around him, but he was willing to scorch it to the ground to get what he wanted. God knew everyone else’s motives were just as selfish. At least with his, they wouldn’t harm anyone.

  Closing his eyes, he began to finally drift off to sleep, but no sooner had his body completely relaxed than he heard his phone vibrate. It was still in his pants pocket, discarded in a heap beside him, and he debated whether to pick it up. Duty would call. An unwanted reality would set in. And he just wasn’t ready for that.

  On the sixth ring, he picked it up.

  Ten seconds later, he wished he hadn’t.

  Thirty seconds after that, he made another decision.

  Another two minutes and he was dressed and out the door, regret stinging his eyes as he looked back at Katherine. With her hair sprawled across the pillow and her hand reaching out as if missing his presence there, she looked like an angel. Too good and pure for what the world had in store for her. If he could take it all away, piece her world back together for her, he’d do it. And he’d start now.

  SHE WOKE WITH a start, sitting up and gasping for breath from the nightmare. Bending over, she put her head in her hands, forcing herself to calm down.

  It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

  Glancing next to her at the empty side of the bed where Jason had been, she felt a sense of unease come over her. In her dream, she’d stirred as he was getting dressed. Through the sleepy haze, she’d been able to make out the long length of his muscular body from the side profile, and the faint stream of moonlight shining in through a crack in the window had shown light on an odd mid-size tattoo on the upper half of his thigh. She’d wanted to call out to him and beg him to get back in the bed, but her body had felt so thoroughly satisfied that she’d drifted off to sleep again.

  Or had she? That had all been a dream, right?

  She collapsed back on the pillows, the heady scent of him surrounding her and quieting her troubled thoughts. The night had been incredible beyond anything she could’ve imagined. He was strong and sexy. He was hers.

  The clock read just after ten, and she could hear the TV on in the front of the apartment. Maybe I should persuade him to join me again…

  Not sure when Kirkpatrick would be returning, she threw on her new short pajamas and tied her hair up in a messy bun. But when she rounded the corner, her face fell. Instead of the man she’d expected to see, Kirkpatrick sat there eating a sandwich and watching the news.

  “Oh…hey,” she said, and looked back to the kitchen. “When did you get back?”

  He took a swig of his Coke, and said, “Couple hours ago. You passed out early, huh?”

  She was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see her face flush. “Yeah. All the stress caught up to me, I guess.”

  Steven popped into her head then, and she realized in horror that she hadn’t thought of him in hours. What kind of friend was she that he was gone and all she’d done was attack Jason when they’d been alone?

  Hesitantly, she asked, “Any news?”

  His face was sympathetic. “Nothing yet. But they’ve got a team on it, so don’t worry. They’ll find him.”

  Alive, please was her morbid thought to that. She hated not being able to do anything, to help in any way. He’d only been taken because of her, no doubt, and that thought made her sick.

  Jason had made her forget, had made her feel better than she deserved. It was as if they were in the eye of the hurricane, that still moment where the chaos raged on the outskirts, but they’d been oblivious to the danger that surrounded them. That stillness had been bliss, warm and safe, and over too soon. As reality came crashing back in, her eyes sought him out; she wanted to feel his steady presence so she wouldn’t fall apart.

  Looking back at his open bedroom door, she frowned. “Is Jason here?”

  Kirkpatrick shook his head, his eyes still on the news. “No, he left a while ago.” Holding up a bag of chips, he said, “Want some?”

  Shaking her head, she tried not to let her disappointment show. He’d left? Why? And where had he gone?

  A breaking news flash on the TV had her looking to see what was so important.

  “We have breaking news tonight, a development on the Oliver Graham case. Oliver, the son of alleged drug kingpin Warren Graham, is scheduled for death by lethal injection four days from now, and tonight, we have new details about an alleged connection that has been made between several prominent members, thought to have close ties with the family…”

  A sketch of a familiar symbol took over the screen and had her reaching for the wall to steady herself. It was an exact rendition of the one on the missing ring, the ring that obviously belonged to—

  “…And according to our sources, the emblem seen here is allegedly a form of identification upon initiation into the cartel, with tattoos being the main form of branding among the family. Members are said to wear jewelry such as pendants or rings with the symbol on the back to remain hidden from view. This discovery was confirmed by the Atlanta Police Department after being found on Juan Mendoza, who was arrested after vandalizing Justice William Shaw’s private chambers last week. Warren Graham denies any affiliation—”

  A loud buzzing sound drowned out the rest of what the newscaster was saying, and it took her a moment to realize it was the sound of her blood rushing to her ears and her world turning white.


  The ring belonged to the Grahams.

  They were the ones responsible for her mother’s death.

  They were the ones who’d threatened her years ago.

  They were the ones who were coming for her and her loved ones.

  But no one knew about the ring…no one knew to tie them back to the murder or to the threats now. And why now? What had the news said? Oliver was scheduled four days from today… Did that timing have anything to do with coming after them?

  The symbol flashed up on the screen again, this time a clear picture of one branded on someone’s skin. Oliver’s, they said.

  Why did that look so familiar…where had she seen that before? She’d dreamed of something similar tonight, right? Or…or what if it hadn’t been a dream…

  “Katherine? Katherine.” Kirkpatrick was talking to her, and she tried to snap out of it long enough to follow what he was saying.

  “You don’t look so good,” he said. “You want to come sit down for a minute?”

  Rubbing her suddenly ill stomach, she asked, “Hey…where did Jason say he went to?”

  Kirkpatrick took another big bite of his sandwich and licked the mayo off his fingers. “Don’t know,” he said with his mouth still full. When he swallowed, he clarified, “He took the keys and ran out the door so fast I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

  She gulped, her throat dry. “Right,” she said, slowly backing out of the room, her mind starting to whirl.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She forced a half-smile. “Just gonna go lie back down. Still tired.”

  “Okay, I’ll be here if you need me.”

  When she was out of view, she raced to her bedroom and shut the door.

  Sitting down at her desk, she flipped open her sketchpad, grabbed a pencil, and began to draw. Thinking back to the dream she’d had, she outlined the tattoo she’d seen, trying to fill in as much detail as she could remember. It was still a bit hazy in her mind, but her hand flew across the page, trying to get it down as fast as she could. Her heart was thumping in her chest, a realization on the horizon, but she wasn’t at the top of the mountain yet and couldn’t figure out the connection. After coloring in the final detail, she blew the flecks off the page and held it up to take it all in.