“She’s no dummy,” Scratch said approvingly. No, Monica was no dummy. She’d had a pretty fast track career in law enforcement, considering her age. She was just two years younger than him. Hell, she was older than Glitch by two years but held an extra degree on him. Though, Glitch tended to go for doctorates so he’d argue that argument.
“Any darkness in her past? Skeletons?” Scratch asked.
“No. She’s seen hell on the streets, I’m sure, but doesn’t have much in the way of personal tragedy, from what I could dig up. But then I’m missing a full mark-up, so you can’t quote me on that.”
“It’s fine. You got a lot, considering.”
“Good, because I can’t dig anymore at this point.”
“You got one-upped man,” Scratch added with a laugh. Jack just stared at him.
“Do what you do best. Fuck her and get what she knows out of her. The closer you get her the better our chances.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Scratch answered, raising his bottle in salute to Jack. He took a swig after Jack matched him. Yeah, he could go for getting in her pants. That was a most definite. He wouldn’t let himself do anything less. If what happened just about a half hour before in the shower was any indication, his mind wasn’t going to let him stop thinking about her. Even now, he wondered what the guys she’d been with before were like. Wondered if that fiancé she had treated her right and they just grew apart, or if he hurt her when they’d split. He wondered about this brother whose file was locked like Fort Knox. And most of all, he wondered what made that beautiful woman tick. So yeah, he was all for taking one for the team.
The problem? He didn’t want to know these things for a purely professional reason. And he didn’t know if he’d come out unscathed in the end. At least, though, he had a plan on how to start. He wondered if she’d take him up on dinner, for business purposes, of course. He tried not to spit his beer out as he laughed at the confused expression on Jack’s face.
Some thoughts the bros just didn’t need to know.
Chapter 7
Things never went his way. That was just how life was for Scratch, and he was used to it being that way. So when he extended an invitation to Monica for dinner, it was with little expectation that she would accept—if she responded at all. It had been a few days and he hadn’t heard from her about the date, or the information that he still owed to her. Not wanting to piss off the FBI, Glitch had prepared a vague summary report that included some information about TopSec. Most of it was false, but it was enough to satisfy her without offending her intelligence as she had so vehemently protested.
None of that mattered anyway, because not hearing from her was almost as bad as the thought that she was upset with him. Not even the excitement of solidifying their plans to start over was enough to keep her out of his thoughts. The kiss they shared had awakened something inside of him. Jack’s warning kept ringing in his ears, but he ignored it. He wasn’t concerned about falling in love.
Monica intrigued him because she was different than the women he was used to screwing with. The point being, that he couldn’t screw with her. As ticked off as he had been at first, the sight of her charging into his office was a turn on like no other. She raised her voice, but she didn’t scream. She made her point and gave him the opportunity to respond, and as much as she wanted to resist him, she gave into her attraction for him. Her honest approach to things was refreshing because she didn’t try to act tough. She showed both her strength and her vulnerability readily. The combination was an intoxicating elixir to a man who was suffering from a broken heart.
Maybe Jack was right. Scratch needed to handle this situation delicately. He would have to try his damnedest to be as honest as he could be. No need to fill her with unnecessary lies. She would see through that right away, and it would transfer onto the way she handled the investigation. He may be arrogant, but he wasn’t fool enough to think she would go easy on him because he was giving it to her right. Well, that’s if they ever made it to that stage.
Scratch had all but given up on the idea when his office phone lit up. That phone never rang unless someone called the wrong extension, or he was late to a meeting and they were looking for him. He almost ignored the call, but decided to pick it up at the last minute.
“Mr. Hines.” Monica’s smooth voice was like a symphony to his ears.
“Agent Tidwell,” he replied, trying to sound unaffected by her call.
“Tonight, eight o’clock, tell me where and I’ll meet you there,” she shot out like a torpedo.
“What if I’m not available tonight?” He was totally free.
“You will be if you want to have dinner with me,” she answered easily.
“Wow. I don’t know how to feel about this,” he teased. “I thought there were rules to this sort of thing. Like, never go out on the same night you’ve been asked, or what not.”
“Well,” she chuckled. “You asked me out, and I am saying yes. You didn’t specify a time or a date, so technically I’m throwing you a bone by even accepting. Now it’s on you to tell me where to meet you, or decline.”
“Throwing me a bone? You’re not even giving me the chance to be a gentleman. I’m supposed to pick you up. Walk you from your front door, open your doors, and at the end of the night hope you invite me in for a nightcap.”
“Oh enough!” She laughed in a way that let him know she was trying to hold most of it in. “We both know you can’t just show up to my place, nor can I come to yours.”
He did know that, he was just having a good time teasing her.
“OK,” he conceded. “The St. Regis hotel at eight. I’ll make reservations at King Cole.”
“The St. Regis? Oh my,” she said with a mock swoon. “You’ve earned a few points there, buddy.”
“Well. Like I said before, I’ll take what I can get.”
Patience wasn’t one of Scratch’s finer virtues. Not that he had many to begin with, but he found it irksome when someone set a time or date and then proceeded to arrive later than agreed. He planned to tell Monica as much, until he spotted her being escorted to their table by the maître de. Visions of her pink lace bra would be replaced by the dress she was wearing for their date. He thought she might have a thing for lace, because she was draped in it from head to toe.
The dress was ankle length and long sleeved but it was made up of carefully constructed black lace that covered her most private places. Holding the lace together was a sheer black material that revealed the remaining expanse of her gorgeous skin. Her hair was straightened and pulled back into a sleek ponytail with a side part. She paired the look with a pewter colored clutch and matching heels. She was a woman after his own heart, with a mean shoe game. He’d yet to see a pair that didn’t cause him to imagine her wearing them and nothing else.
He remembered his manners in time to rise from his own seat, and helped her into hers across from him. The hostess looked on approvingly as he pushed her chair closer to the table. Monica thanked him for his help with a demure smile. Using it as an excuse to get close enough to enjoy her scent, he whispered in her ear how stunning she looked. Instead of blushing, she winked at him. Scratch refrained from bursting out with laughter that would be sure to bring them unwanted glares from the upper echelon crowd.
“I was beginning to think you stood me up,” he admitted.
“You know a lady has to make an entrance,” she teased.
He nodded in agreement. “And what an entrance it was.”
They exchanged more light banter until the waiter came to take their drink orders. Scratch ordered a Glenlivet 21 on the rocks and Monica ordered a Jameson and ginger. He nodded in approval of her selection.
“You surprised?” She raised a brow as if challenging him to say something disparaging.
He laughed, enjoying her spunkiness.
“Pleasantly. Haven’t come across a lot of female scotch drinkers. I see we have something in common. That’s a start.”
Monica gav
e him the Michelle Obama side-eye.
“And just how many women have you come across?”
“Enough,” Scratch said firmly. He may be a numbers guy, but wasn’t a fan of discussing them when it came to past flings. No number was ever a good number. Too many, and you were a man whore. Too few, and there had to be something wrong with you.
“I’m sure,” she retorted. As he expected.
“The number is zero as of right now. Does that work for you?”
“I find that hard to believe,” she admitted.
“I find it hard to believe that you think I have time to lie to you. It’s not like you couldn’t just look it up if you wanted.”
“Yeah, well I try not to get too creepy with the digging,” she said, referring to his search on her. “I’m good with the basics. Clean record. Self-sufficient. Loves his mother. You get it.”
Scratch nodded his head and tried not to wince when she mentioned loving his mother. God knows that’s a love that would never die.
In all honesty, he hadn’t known what to expect from her as far as their date was concerned. His interactions with her had been executed in a professional manner, well the majority, and he was surprised and relieved by her relaxed attitude. There were no discussions of the investigation, or the incident in his office. They shared a delicious meal with conversation and wine flowing. Discussing topics they were both interested in without diving into anything too personal. The more they talked the more he felt himself falling under her spell. Monica had a sense of humor that kept him laughing. She wasn’t easily offended, which was a blessing for a man whose mouth was known to get him into trouble. He found that she was easy to talk to, and that he also loved listening to her tell stories of her childhood and college days.
Before he knew it, their server was clearing away the long finished dessert plates and asking if Scratch was ready for the bill. He tried to ignore the swell of disappointment that the evening was already coming to an end. Looking to Monica for direction, he could see in her eyes that she wasn’t ready to end things just yet either.
“I’ve had an amazing time tonight, George. Thank you.”
“Believe me, the pleasure has been all mine.” He gave her a look that was a cross between appreciation and longing. Nothing would have pleased him more than taking their evening further, but oddly enough, he was content with not pushing his luck. Then, she through him for a loop.
“Are you sure about that?”
Scratch narrowed his eyes at her question. He was pretty certain he understood what she was insinuating, and it shocked the shit out of him.
“Excuse me?” He said for clarification.
“Are you sure that the pleasure has been all yours? And that you’ve gotten all the pleasure out of tonight?”
He was instantly hard as a rock.
“I don’t think I could ever get enough pleasure, from you,” he drawled.
“Hmmm. Is that a theory or a fact?”
“Why don’t you find out,” he hedged. Those few sentences in their exchange were more intense than any foreplay he had ever engaged in. Icy blue eyes pierced into warm chocolate browns as they both exchanged heated gazes. Even though it was wrong, he prayed that she wasn’t just being flirtatious. She was so easy and hard to read all at once.
“Yes,” was her simple response.
That was enough.
When the waiter returned with his credit card, he put in a request to have a bottle of champagne sent up to his suite. That was one reason for choosing to dine in that particular hotel. His standing master suite was just one of the perks of making the right people a lot of money. It was also a very discreet location. Very low odds of running into any other federal agents, or employees from HG.
Chapter 8
If Monica had an issue with him having a room already reserved, she didn’t let it show. It was possible that she didn’t care, because she allowed Scratch to take and hold her hand as he led her to the bank of ornate elevators. As if he needed anymore proof that luck was working in his favor, the elevator arrived empty and they were the lone passengers waiting to board it. Scratch smiled a wicked, unabashed grin as he watched her step inside.
Following close behind, he kept one hand on her lower back while he pulled his key card out of the pocket of his dress slacks, and pressed the button for the eighteenth floor. His thumb rubbed a circular pattern into her skin through the lace. He felt her body quiver under his touch, and it drove him damn near insane. He wanted to go caveman on her ass and rip that enticing dress right off her body.
Once the doors shut, he turned to face her. As he pressed forward, she moved back. They did this little dance until her back was pressed to the wall. Scratch smiled as he enjoyed the obvious desire blazing behind her long lashes, despite her act. Instead of molding his body to hers like he longed to, he planted one hand above her head and leaned in closer.
Monica looked up into his eyes and was trapped by his intensity. Scratch studied each of her features, tucking each image away for later. His hand caressed her thigh as he stared into her eyes.
“Tell me you’re wearing panties,” he groaned. Not because he was fond of them, but the thought was driving him insane.
Monica smiled and shook her head. “No.”
Scratch fought the urge to lift up her dress and plunge his fingers into her heat. Instead,
he worked his way up, smoothing his palm across her flat stomach. Her lids fluttered when he slid his thumb over the soft mound of her breast, gently teasing her nipple as he did. His eyes traveled to her lips as his hand crept up the column of her neck. His touch was gentle, yet possessive. As if he were exploring and owning her at once. When he wrapped his strong hand around the back of her neck and ran his thumb across her throat, she touched him at last, grabbing hold of his hips. Scratch twined his fingers into her ponytail and tugged so that her head tilted upwards making her lips look like an offering, and he ducked down for a taste.
“Why do I want you so much?” It was as much a question for her as it was for himself.
“I don’t know,” she murmured against his lips.
They just gazed at each other, breathing in the steamy passion that flowed between and all around them.
He kissed her lightly, holding back the powerful urge to lift her against the wall and slide deep inside. Instinctively, he knew he shouldn’t rush with her. Oh, she would let him, but he wanted to treat her better than that. Being with her felt like a gift, and she was something to treasure.
Once the elevator reached their floor, Scratch eased away and took Monica’s hand once more as he led her to the suite. His casual strut hid the urgency that was bubbling up inside of him. He never had to wait this long for a woman he wanted, and the fact that he almost had her, made things worse. His episode in the shower had proved to intensify the want.
At the entrance to the suite, he steered her in front of him and opened the door, letting his composure slip for the first time by pressing his erection into her firm backside and squeezing a cheek for good measure. She walked into the room, and headed straight to the bed, pulling him behind her by the loops of his designer slacks.
Once the door slammed behind them, Scratch pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bending his taller frame to accommodate her. Monica let out a low moan when he buried his face into her neck. He tasted her skin with a hunger so fierce, it was as if he hadn’t just enjoyed a five-course meal. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of the way her skin felt under his tongue.
Reaching lower, he gripped her dress, pulling up each side until her ass was exposed. As promised, her body was void of panties. He groaned deeply as he ground his aching cock against her. Scratch lowered to his knees, wanting to taste her so bad his mouth watered. Monica gasped when she felt the cooler skin of his nose brush the underside of her ass as he placed sensual kisses to the backs her thighs.
“I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you in this peek-a-boo dress,” Scratch
growled. Holding her dress up with one hand, he used the other to spread her legs. Monica whimpered with anticipation as his tongue traveled from the inside of her thigh up to the entrance of her throbbing pussy. She moaned wildly when he flicked his tongue out and began lapping at her sensitive flesh.
Monica felt her knees weaken and threw her arms down on the bed for support.
“Oh,” she groaned into the expensive duvet. Scratch eased her open even wider now that he had use of both hands. He began to French kiss her, matching the intensity of their first kiss in the office.
“Mmmm,” Scratch moaned at the taste of her. With the scent of vanilla everywhere, he felt like he was eating a sugar cookie. As he devoured her, he let his eyes drink in the sight of her perfect, naked ass. He gripped and massaged one cheek as he mouthed her clit. The sounds of Monica cursing and whimpering nearly undid him. His face disappeared between her legs as he used his other hand to free his agonizingly hard dick. He gave himself a few good strokes to take the edge off.
SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2) Page 5
