Identity Crisis

by Rochelle Paige

  He lay underneath me, completely still. His hands clenched the sheets, knuckles white from how hard he was holding them. My breathing was fast as I stared down at him, impaled on his cock. The passion between us was incredibly intense and I wanted to enjoy every moment of being in control of our lovemaking.

  I began to move slowly, sliding up and down while bracing my hands on his chest. I felt the rise and fall of his chest as he dragged air into his lungs. His heartbeat was much higher than when I’d counted the beats earlier. The pupils of his eyes expanded, his nostrils flared. He was so far removed from the steely operator I knew him to be. He more closely resembled a wild animal—one intent on claiming its mate.

  I continued to move slowly, circling my hips on each downward thrust. His gaze lowered to stare at the sight of his cock disappearing inside my pussy.

  “Lean forward,” he whispered.

  It was impossible to resist the snap of an order in his raspy tone. I bent down toward him, my hair spilling over my shoulders and brushing his cheeks.

  “Closer.” His tone was husky, the deep sound sending a quiver through my core.

  When I swayed lower, the hardened tip of my nipple brushed against his lips. Opening his mouth, he clamped down on it, sucking deeply. My thighs trembled as he matched his pulls to my strokes. It wasn’t long before I was panting, a sheen of sweat coating my skin. One that had more to do with the suckling of his mouth and the feel of his cock deeply embedded within me than my rhythmic motions. My core started to flutter around him as I hung on the razor-thin edge, so close to coming.

  “Mine,” he rasped as he lost control, releasing his grip on the sheets. His hands held my hips as he surged upwards, his hips grinding into me.

  One of his hands slid up my back, pulling me closer, until my breasts crushed against his chest. He fucked up into me—hard. On his next thrust, his cock pushed all the way inside me, his balls slapping against my ass. My cries suddenly filled the room as my pussy contracted around him. Feeling my orgasm, Blaine didn’t hold anything back. He slammed his cock into my pussy, over and over, going deeper each time. Finally, he was coming, the spurts from his cock lengthening my own orgasm until we were both trembling and motionless.

  I felt boneless, my head nestled on his shoulder. His arms loosened and he ran his hands up and down my back.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled, unable to form actual words. I barely had the energy to breathe, yet Blaine was somehow still hard inside me—even after coming. How was that even possible?

  “You feel so good,” he whispered. “I can barely keep my hands off you, especially not when you’re all soft and wet around me.”

  His hands slid lower, cupping my ass. Then his hips flexed as his hands pressed down, and I gasped at the invasion.

  “That’s right, baby. See how good it feels? I can slide in and out of you more easily.” His hips moved while he spoke, his cock moving inside me with firm strokes. I was helpless, clinging to his shoulders as the speed of his thrusts increased.

  Just a moment ago, I was certain I was beyond the ability to climax again. Now, it was steadily building inside me with each stroke of his cock, the heat suddenly burning out of control. I exploded, but Blaine wasn’t done. He was relentless, slamming into me hard and fast.

  Arousal was stamped on his face. His blue eyes glittering, locked intensely on mine. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he moved my body up and down almost effortlessly. There was no escaping his powerful grip while he rammed in and out of me in a steady rhythm. The bed creaked with the force of his thrusts, but I was beyond caring who heard us. I’d stopped thinking about anything other than Blaine and the pleasure he was giving me.

  Finally, when I started to think I couldn’t possibly take any more, I felt him swell even larger. Then, with a hoarse cry, he erupted and his pulsing cock sparked another climax inside me.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered.

  I collapsed on top of him, too tired to move another inch. He rolled me to the side, tucking his leg between mine as I felt the wetness trickling down my thighs. The last thing I remembered was the touch of his hand as he swept my tangled hair to the side. Then darkness claimed me as I passed out from sheer exhaustion.

  ****

  I awoke the next morning to the soft swipe of a damp washcloth between my legs. My brain was still fuzzy and it took me a moment to realize what Blaine was doing. When I did, a blush swept across my skin. I’d climaxed more times than I could count and Blaine had come inside me twice. It was a sticky mess I should have cleaned up last night, but I’d been in no condition to do so. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

  His laser focus was centered on my pussy. I watched, mesmerized as his tongue swept out to lick his bottom lip. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was remembering the taste of me from our first night together. My eyes drifted lower, only to find his hard-on pressed against the zipper of his jeans. It wasn’t surprising any longer since it seemed like a perpetual condition with him.

  “Morning.” My voice was hushed, but his gaze still jerked to my face. I didn’t think it possible, but color crept up his cheeks as though he was embarrassed to be caught studying my pussy. I flashed him a warm smile to reassure him since I found it oddly arousing.

  “I’d like nothing more than to climb back into bed with you,” he murmured, “but Phillips and his team are going to be here in about half an hour.”

  “Half an hour?” I repeated, leaping from the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

  “I was a selfish bastard last night, taking you twice when I should have let you sleep.” His voice held remorse, but I didn’t regret a single moment of our time last night. “You needed the extra couple hours this morning. There’s no way to know how much sleep you’ll be able to grab over the next few days.”

  I ran over to him and threw myself into his arms. “Don’t ever apologize for giving me the most amazing orgasms of my life. I would gladly sacrifice sleep for a repeat of everything we did in that bed last night.”

  “I’ll remember,” he murmured against my lips. “Later, though. Right now, you need to get a move on so you’ll be ready when they get here. I’d hate to have to shoot an FBI agent for seeing you half-dressed.”

  Had I not slid down his body to stand in front of him and found a gun in a holster hanging from his shoulder, I would have laughed at the idea. “You’re armed.”

  Blaine’s expression wiped clear at the shock in my tone, not seeming to like it. “I’ve been armed every day since we met, Delia.”

  “You have?” I gasped. “How could I have missed that?” I pointed my finger at his gun.

  “You didn’t miss it. I added the shoulder holster today,” he explained. Then he bent over and pulled up the leg of his jeans to show me another holster holding a smaller gun strapped to his ankle. “And this one’s hard to find unless you know to look for it.”

  “Holy crap,” I breathed. “You’ve been walking around Atlanta with a gun strapped to your ankle this whole time?”

  “Not the whole time, but I’ve had the .22 and my Ka-Bar on me whenever I’ve left the suite.” He lifted the other leg of his jeans and there was a knife hidden there in a sheath. When he stood up again, he patted the gun at his side. “I feel better having my Sig on me, though. This baby set the gold standard by which all other combat handguns are measured. I’ve fired so many rounds from this gun, I can’t even count them all, and it hasn’t malfunctioned yet. No matter what the conditions are, if I have to pull it out of its holster, it’s going to fire. When I get a chance to take you to the firing range, you’ll have a Sig in your hand.”

  He was talking about his gun in the same tone most guys used to describe their car—or their mistress, if they had one. I was almost jealous until I heard him say something about taking me to the shooting range. I’d never seen a gun up close until now. Never held one. I had certainly never fired one. Heck, I’d never even thought about it
, not even when I was writing books involving gunplay. Based on the steeliness of his gaze and the determination in his voice, it was something I was going to do sooner or later—whether I wanted to or not.

  “C’mon, baby. Hop to it.” He nudged me toward the bathroom door, giving my butt a swift pat for good measure. “You’re still half asleep. Maybe the shower will help wake you up.”

  “Maybe.”

  I went through my morning ritual in a daze. Washing my hair, brushing my teeth, moisturizing my face. They were all things I’d done a million times before. If it had required any thought at all, I would have been doomed. Between all the mind-blowing sex, talk of guns like it was an everyday occurrence, and the FBI agents who were about to knock on our door, I didn’t think I could handle anything else. When I’d wished for some extra excitement my last night at the cabin, I had no idea fate would take me seriously and land me in the middle of a situation better suited for the pages of one of my books.

  I’d barely finished getting dressed when Blaine walked into the room. “You only have a few minutes. Brody said they just pulled up.”

  Apparently, the video monitors had already been put to good use. “All done.”

  “Come grab something to eat.” His voice held the snap of authority.

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Try anyway,” he urged, leading me through the living room and into the kitchen. “Food and sleep are two necessities you can’t afford to do without, especially not with the stress you’re under right now.”

  “The stress is exactly why I’m not hungry,” I complained. “I’m scared about what’s going to happen with Brody and Agent Phillips.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Facing the guy who had arrested him so many years ago didn’t seem to faze Brody. He was finishing off a blueberry muffin and tossed one at Blaine, who peeled the wrapper back and handed it to me. “I figured this day would come eventually. I’m not thrilled to have to see Agent Phillips again, but at least we have an advantage since he wants this arrest to happen. Maybe even more than he wanted to get me back in the day.”

  “Then where the fuck are they?” Blaine asked. He broke a piece of the muffin off and held it to my lips before wandering over to the monitors. “Damn, it looks like they’re going to stick close. Phillips has one of his lackeys at the registration desk.”

  “I’m pretty sure FBI agents prefer not to be called lackeys,” I chided. “Seeing as they’re highly trained professionals and all.”

  “Highly trained professionals my ass.”

  “Cut ‘em some slack,” Brody backed me up. “They sound like good agents from what Delia found last night. Plus, being stuck with Phillips for a boss has to suck for them.”

  “One thing’s for sure, they’re slow as shit since they just made it to the elevator,” Blaine said.

  I joined him at the monitor, waiting to see the agents come down the hallway. The bite of muffin I’d managed to choke down felt like it was crawling back up my throat. My heart was racing and my breathing shallow as I quietly freaked out, trying my hardest not to show it. A task at which I apparently failed miserably since Blaine moved in to comfort me.

  “Calm down.” Blaine’s voice was firm, but his hand on my back was gentle.

  “Calm down? Calm down, really? Here’s a little tip. If you really want someone to calm down, don’t actually tell them to calm down. It doesn’t work. They don’t calm down.” The guys looked at me like I was crazy. They may have had a point since I was currently ranting like a lunatic. “Crap, sorry. Okay, I’m going to calm down. Here comes the calm. I will soon be calm. Maybe. Eventually.”

  Brody’s eyes were wide when he turned to look at Blaine. “How many times do you think she can fit the word calm into the conversation?”

  “I counted eight.” Blaine’s voice held dry humor.

  “Gee, thanks, guys. Way to pick on the newbie.”

  They managed to distract me long enough that I must have missed the agents leaving the elevator and walking down the hall. There was a knock on the door and sure enough, a quick glance at the monitors showed the three agents.

  “You good, brother?”

  A quick nod of his head was Brody’s only response. Blaine wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side as Brody walked over to the door. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm my nerves.

  “We’ve got this covered. It’ll be okay,” Blaine whispered into my ear.

  “Damn straight it will be,” Brody agreed right before he opened the door. He didn’t offer a greeting of any kind to the agents. Instead, he simply stepped to the side and let them walk past before shutting the door behind him with a thud.

  My research of the cyber division showed a much larger team than what showed up today. Phillips had only brought two of his agents to Atlanta with him. Stuart Michaels was supposed to be his best cyber expert, with an extensive information technology background. Basically, he was one of their resident geeks—and he certainly looked the part with his thick glasses and slight build.

  Cyan Steele was a different story altogether. She had a reputation for being a sharp investigator, but her background was in criminal justice, not computers. She would have made a perfect heroine in one of my books. She was about five-foot-ten with an athletic build, which still allowed for a few curves. The picture I hunted down last night didn’t do her justice, though. In person, her face was striking. High cheekbones, striking green eyes, and plump lips framed by dark blonde hair. In the photo, it had been pulled back into a severe ponytail. It’s amazing what a difference seeing it down made. One Brody seemed to notice based on the way his eyes followed her when she walked past him.

  Introductions were made all around and the agents all stared at me oddly when Brody gave them my name last. He didn’t offer an explanation for my role in all of this and I assumed they were trying to figure out what I was doing here. Their attention swiftly shifted to Blaine as he updated them on how he’d gotten involved in the situation and everything that had happened since he came to Atlanta.

  “When this is over, am I going to find your TTP all over their system?”

  “TTP?” I repeated, trying to stifle a nervous giggle at the image of toilet papering a house.

  “It’s a hacker’s signature,” Agent Steele explained. “Their tools, techniques, and procedures. They’re our best bet to pinpoint the person or group responsible for a particular hack.”

  “I’m familiar with Brody’s preferred methodologies,” Phillips added. “If I find traces of his work in The Armory Group’s network, I’ll know he hacked the system. There won’t be any way to hide it from me.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me,” Blaine growled. “Are you seriously going to sit there and threaten Brody with an arrest after he called you in and is offering to serve TAG up to you on a silver platter?”

  “My job isn’t just about preventing harm to our national security. It’s also to enforce federal laws as part of the nation’s principal law enforcement agency.” Phillips’ voice could only be described as smarmy. I’d only been in his presence for a few minutes and I already understood why Blaine disliked him so much.

  This time, it was me running my hand along Blaine’s back in a soothing gesture. If this initial conversation was any indication of things to come, I didn’t know how we were going to manage to work with them without someone getting shot. “We both know you look the other way when it gets you something you want more. The Armory Group is about as big as it gets. Back the fuck off Brody’s ass unless you want me to show you the door.”

  “You won’t show us the door,” Phillips scoffed. “Not when you need our help. And you know it, too, or you wouldn’t have called me in the first place.”

  “Maybe so, but we can just as easily pick up the phone and call in ATF or Homeland instead.”

  “That’s enough, Saint,” Brody interrupted. “I’m not worried. My access to TAG’s site was done with a username and pass
word they issued. We don’t have time to argue over shit like this right now. Every minute wasted is another minute their cyber guy might decide to move the whole system, which means we lose access to their site. If he does, we’re up shit creek without a fucking paddle.”

  Brody brought up something that had been bugging me. “They have to already know we’ve logged in again. Why haven’t they moved it already?”

  “It would raise red flags with their customers,” Agent Michaels answered. “Moving their site would be the same as saying they’ve been compromised. There isn’t any other good reason why you’d move a secure and untraceable site.”

  “Although they might know someone has been inside their system, they have no choice but to factor their customers into their risk assessment. The men running The Armory Group are dangerous but with the kind of weaponry they sell, their customers are bound to be even worse,” Agent Steele added.

  Brody moved his laptop to the kitchen counter, Agent Michaels trailing closely behind. “They probably still think it was Serena logging in again. At first glance, she wouldn’t pose a major threat, but they have to be wondering why they haven’t been able to trace her by now. Which means the clock is ticking and we don’t know how much time we have left.”

  “I want that card,” Phillips said, holding his hand out to Brody.

  He handed it to him without mentioning we’d taken a photo of it earlier since the guys figured they’d have to fork it over right away. Phillips examined the card closely before giving it to Agent Michaels. “Verify the information still works.”

  Michaels flashed Brody an apologetic smile before powering up his laptop and using the information to log in. “I’m in, but it looks like they’re already trying to trace my IP address.” His fingers flew over his keyboard as he spoke. “And I’m out. Whoever their programmer is, he’s damn good. I don’t want to risk more time on his system until we’ve decided on a course of action.”