SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2)

by Linden, Olivia

  Monica resorted to silence. Her anger was visible in the swift rise and fall of her chest with each breath, and the flaring of her nostrils. But even as she fumed, her eyes roamed his body the way his had over hers. Scratch was now leaning up against the door with his arms folded to match hers. The hard set of his Caribbean blue eyes made her want to slap him, but even though they were turned up in a smirk, the unexpected fullness of his lips made her want to kiss him. His earthy masculine scent filled the room around her, making the task of focusing on her anger difficult.

  “I take it you're not happy with the information I provided you.” Scratch’s deep voice broke the silence between them. The tension was still thick, and pulsing between them.

  “You know,” she started as she turned to his desk and began to gather a few of the reports that managed to stay inside the folders. “I can’t decide. Did you think you could fool me with this nonsense you gave me? Or did you think you were being funny? I don’t know you well enough to insult your level of intelligence, even though you did that to me.”

  “Truthfully?”

  “Is it possible? For you to be truthful, I mean. Don’t want there to be any confusion in what I want from you,” she scathed.

  It was small and kind of obvious, but her choice of words had given him an opening to distract her.

  “And what is it that you want? From me, that is?” He arched a devilish eyebrow in suggestion.

  “The truth would be nice.”

  “That’s easy enough. I find you impossibly attractive, and when you came storming into my office, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to kiss you to shut you up, or bend you over my desk and spank you.”

  “You can’t be serious,” she said dryly. Her words did not match the blush that was burning her cheeks.

  “Oh, I’m very serious. Are you always so rude?”

  “Rude? You’re crazy. There wasn’t anything in your profile that said you’d been diagnosed with a mental illness.”

  “Me?” Scratch let out a throaty laugh at her accusation. “You are the one that came into my office throwing things like a madwoman. I should be the one concerned about your mental health.”

  “You should be concerned after that crap you pulled. You said you would cooperate with us. I don’t have time to play games with you, Mr. Hines.”

  She held out a few of the reports for him to look over. Deciding to appease her a little, Scratch dropped his arms before he heaved himself away from the door. She tried to exude confidence as she stoned her features into a cold mask, but her hands were trembling. So he took his time approaching her. Once upon her, instead of taking the papers, he passed her and perched himself at the edge of his desk—making her have to come to him. She let out a deep huff, walked over to him, and shoved the papers into his chest.

  “If you think I’d waste my anger on these lousy vendor reports you sent me, you are sadly mistaken. What I want to know is,” she paused to reach around him and grabbed the other folder off of his desk. In the process she made sure to arch her back so that her breasts pushed against him as she did. Two could play that game. “Why are you digging into my past?”

  Scratch remained motionless as he absorbed the heat of her body against his. His body temperature was rising by the second. The scent he had come to love infiltrated his senses. She was so close. He wanted to place his hands on her hips and pull her even closer so that she could feel what she was doing to him, but he decided to let her lead. Having retrieved what she was looking for, she leaned back and her hair tickled his cheek as she did. With her petite stature, they were almost at eye level as she stood between his legs. Then, she pushed the folder marked personal at him.

  “I know a lot of people don’t respect us ‘feds’ and think our success is based on the team of people we have to help work on an investigation, but some of us are very well connected. Bet you thought you could have someone prying into my personal history and I wouldn’t find out. Well you were wrong.”

  Scratch took the file and flipped through it. On the first sheet he saw a checklist of items, the different parts of her history that Jack had looked into. He couldn’t be sure without the report from Jack, but the fact that she was somehow tipped off, was enough. Feigning disinterest, he tossed the file back on his desk and turned to look her in the eyes.

  “So, I looked into you. Don’t you think it’s only fair? Considering you’ve done the same to me?”

  “Not the same. I have a profile that was provided by your company. I haven’t had any reason to go digging for more, but there was no need for you to have a background check done on me. I’m a federal agent. What the hell were you looking for?”

  “I just wanted to know who I was working with. Level the playing field a little,” he shrugged.

  “Level the playing field? I thought it was clear that this investigation isn’t a game!” Her voice was becoming agitated again, and Scratch knew he had to do something, fast.

  “It wasn’t about the investigation,” he countered.

  “Then, what?”

  “It was about you,” he replied in a seductive tone. Monica stifled the responding gasp, a result of the effect his smooth tone had over her. She seemed to be searching for a retort, but came up with nothing. She was conflicted. Her eyes searched his in disbelief, but she didn’t even protest the gentle brush of his fingers to smooth a few flyaway strands of hair behind her ears. So he decided to go bolder, and used each thumb to caress the soft skin between her ears and her neck. Now that his hands had a taste of what she felt like, he wanted more. He leaned closer, unable to deny the pull she had on him.

  “Me,” she repeated. Her voice was a whisper as her eyes begged for more. When he leaned closer so that the tip of his nose grazed her cheek, she hesitated before turning away.

  “Yes. You. You rule my thoughts, and all I can think about is getting to know you better.” He nuzzled her neck to see if she would pull away. When she didn’t, and leaned into his touch instead, he added. “I’ll take what I can get.”

  He pressed his lips to the hollow of her neck. He couldn’t help himself at that point. What may have begun as a game to him had jumped the fast track and became something more. He needed to know how her skin felt against his lips. He needed to know if she was everything he imagined at night. He needed to feel her lips under his at the very least.

  “Monica?” His mouth traveled up the base of her neck, and over her jaw to hover at the corners of her lips. Scratch didn’t want to take the kiss. He wanted her to want it too.

  “Hmmm?” She hummed in response. His hands were now buried in the depths of her reddish brown spirals, and she shivered as his fingertips grazed her scalp. It took great restraint, all he had, to remain gentle with her.

  “Kiss me,” he commanded.

  She didn’t do anything, so he pressed his lips to the warm skin of her cheek. He flicked out his tongue and teased the corner of her mouth. Her lips parted in surprise, and she took her time as she angled her mouth to meet his. With a hungry moan, she kissed him, taking his tongue into her mouth as she did.

  If either of them were concerned about crazy, that’s exactly what came next. The second their tongues touched, all restraint was lost for both of them. Scratch managed to pull his hands away from her soft locks, and began to touch and grope her all over. Monica was returning the favor, and her small hands glided up and down his back, only stopping to grip and pull his hair.

  She pulled away to catch her breath, leaving Scratch’s lips chasing hers. He settled on kissing his way down her neck, towards the tops of the golden globes that had been teasing him since she entered his office. Her half-hearted murmurs that they should stop meant nothing when she was mashing his face into her breasts. His fingers where swift, and eased open enough buttons to expose her pink lace bra. Scratch groaned at the site of her hardened nipple poking through the thin lace. He began to tease it with his lips and tongue before he even knew what he was doing. Monica wasn’t helping matters by rub
bing her palm over his tented erection. They had both lost their minds to the intense energy that flowed between them. Scratch was about to slip a hand under her skirt when a shrill ringing startled them both to a stop.

  “Oh my God,” she cried out, now that her trance had been broken. “That’s my phone. I’m supposed to meet Agent Axe.”

  Scratch scowled at the mention of the other man’s name. He liked him even less for interrupting what he considered a magical moment. He couldn’t think of any other explanation as he watched as Monica straightened herself and rushed out of his office without a backward glance. That annoyed him even more, until he looked at the papers strewn all over his desk. A win was a win, and he couldn’t be mad at that.

  Chapter 6

  Coglione! That about summed up how Scratch felt at the moment. He was an idiot. He hadn’t expected anything that went down in his office earlier that day to happen. Yeah, he was supposed to make Monica all hot and bothered. He was supposed to find a weak point in her prickly exterior, and find an opening to get inside of her head. What he wasn’t supposed to do was get trapped in his own damn web.

  “Son of a bitch,” he hissed out loud, for good measure. She tasted sweeter than heaven, and felt hotter than silk sheets and sex. The feel of her hands caressing his cock? Unparalleled. He’d never had a woman set him off so damn quick. He couldn’t quite get the taste of her out of his mouth. Something he shouldn’t have been thinking of when he realized that she was on to him. He needed to get focused and keep her clear of the TopSec accounts. He needed to keep Jack clear, but all he could fucking think about was how great it would be to spread her over his desk and take her until both their heads exploded.

  “That little pink lace bra has to be illegal on every continent,” he grumbled as he slammed his apartment door and pulled at his tie. Great thing about having the whole floor to himself was that he could make as much noise as he pleased and no one would give a damn. Well, not exactly true. If he made too much noise, Jack would bust down his doors, guns blazing, with Glitch hacking into every electrical link-up he had in the house until he could make it a virtual prison for an intruder.

  The pains and benefits of having two very dangerous friends in their own right.

  For now though, Scratch shrugged out of his coat and shirt. He needed to get his hormones under control before he called Jack down to curse him the hell out for being caught, and then find out what he dug up on Monica. Plan firmly in mind, he stripped out of his slacks and boxers. His dick slapped his leg heavily, at half-mast already by just remembering what had happened in the office. Scratch groaned as he headed for the shower. A cold one was in order.

  He put the nozzle on arctic cold, full blast, and jumped in without taking a breath. The shock of the cold made him gasp but didn’t quite clear his head. He ducked said traitor under the spray and let the water run over him. He tried to focus on his clenching muscles and force them to relax. Focus on the chilled slide of water over his skin to cool his temperature. But when a droplet slid over his lips, all he could think of when he closed his eyes, was Monica’s tongue. How warm and wet it had been against his. How she’d taken to his mouth like a drowning woman to air.

  He couldn’t stop his hand running down the front of his body, over his abs and then his groin, and then his cock. He remembered her hand there, stroking over him, through his slacks. Her little hand would be so hot against his skin. Would she memorize it? Finger her way along the head and down his shaft until she knew every inch of him? His fingers traced his thoughts as his other hand slammed to the wall to brace himself. He bit his lip as he pumped once, testing the grip.

  “Monica,” he moaned into the air, lost in the vanilla scent in her neck. The taste of her lace covered nipple, and a hot working mouth. He reached blindly for his body wash and squeezed some over his working hand. The suds smoothed out his glide, the friction now shooting him higher. The body wash bottle hit the ground with a thud, but he ignored it. He just kept imagining her touching him, kissing him. And then his mind began to wonder further. He was lifting her off her feet and then pushing everything off the desk that was in the way. He laid her down and followed her, grinding his cock against her. He pumped his hand faster as he bit her bra and pulled until it ripped and fell away from her breasts.

  “Perfect,” he whispered, and took her nipple into his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue as his hand sought out her panties he knew would be soaked from his touch—pushed the wet cloth away to find skin so fucking hot that he fell to his knees in the shower. His cock twitched as he pushed a finger into her tight little hold. It thickened when she moaned and cried his name. His name. Not Scratch, or George, but Zio, the name he wished he could hear from her lips.

  A name that would be dangerous.

  And even though he knew that, he was shouting his release, pumping at his cock harder and harder as shot after shot of cum hit the wall of the shower. He slumped, breathing heavily against the cold tile.

  “I have lost my damn mind,” Scratch said, chuckling, even as he forced himself to stand up. Quickly, because the shower was damn cold without the thought of Monica to warm him up, he washed and got out. While he toweled down, he reached for his phone and dialed Jack.

  “What?” Jack answered after a few rings.

  “Is that anyway to answer your best friend?” Scratch said.

  “No, that’s why I answered that way,” Jack returned.

  “Ouch, that really hurt. Really. But it makes what I’m about to say even easier. You failed today. You got caught.”

  “I’ll be right down.” The phone disconnected before Scratch could say anything else. Nothing got Jack moving like thinking he’d messed up somehow. Scratch knew he didn’t have much time so he quickly slipped on some sweats and padded to his front door. By the time he had it unlatched, Jack was knocking. He opened the door and stepped back to let his friend in. Jack entered in comfy jeans and a blue hoodie, his normal attire. It was kind of odd seeing a grown man dress like a teenager sometimes, but Jack liked people to underestimate him like that.

  “What’s going on?” Jack asked with little preamble. He went straight for Scratch’s kitchen and came back with two beers.

  “Long story short? Monica knew you were tracking her,” Scratch answered as he grabbed the beer Jack had gotten for him.

  “Excuse me?” Jack asked.

  “You heard me. Came storming into my office today, mad as hell about the dummy accounts and the fact that I’d had her looked into. I was able to save it, don’t worry, but she will be suspicious now.

  “Damn,” Jack commented, taking a sip of his beer. Not too many people could get by him. Even less knew when he was around. His respect for the woman went up some. If she’d been a Spook, a spy or something, he’d have handled her with kid gloves. As a federal agent, he’d been careful, but not as careful as he could have been. Still, her catching on was a coup for her, most definitely.

  “What she say?” Jack asked.

  “Just wanted to know why I had her looked into. Even had a list of the things that had been checked. Whoever you used wasn’t quiet enough.”

  “Apparently, a problem I will handle, and soon,” Jack promised. Scratch flinched; not even wanting to know whose head would roll for that one.

  “Consequently, what did you dig up on her?”

  “Monica Renee Tidwell, thirty years old, been a federal agent for the last four years. Before that, she was in the TPD as a narcotics officer for five years, and a beat cop for one. She went into the Academy right after a two year degree.”

  “Damn, being a cop is in her blood,” Scratch commented.

  “Yeah, her brother was an FBI Agent. Can’t get much on him. His file is sensitive. I’d have to dig too deep to pull it, but they don’t share the same name, for some reason. It would have been easier if they did. She’s had a few cop boyfriends, even was engaged once, but it seems she is more about the job than about love.”

  “A woman after my own hea
rt,” Scratch added.

  It didn’t surprise him that she’d been a beat cop in Trenton, New Jersey. Accounted for some of her attitude and her fight. She had no choice but to be tough like that. Someone just had to be from up north to understand. He couldn’t use it, though, to get close to her. George Hines was from sunny California. A much different disposition. It did, though, give him some insight. What had happened in the office between them was out of Monica’s norm. If she put her job before men that she’d cared about, then maybe Scratch was already under her skin. A thought that pleased him, because she was damn sure under his.

  “It’s enough to play with,” Scratch said finally.

  “She just doesn’t do much outside of work. She works out regularly. Is qualified in several weapons, from rifles to various side arms. She’s come up the ranks quickly from simple desk agent to field agent working white-collar crime. But, it appears she has her eyes set on getting into harder cases. She’s just finished a graduate degree in both psychology and sociology, on top of her bachelor’s in criminology.”