“So that’s how you want to play this,” he said quietly. “Make me the bad guy, like you’re some hopeless damsel in distress? Like you didn’t want what happened as much as I did.”
“Fuck you!” She shoved against his chest, making him stagger down a step. “Yes. I fucking wanted you. George Hines, the charming accountant from San Francisco. But that’s not who you are! Who are you?” She pushed him again, and made a move to get by him down the stairs, but he blocked her.
“Wait,” he pleaded.
“No! Let me go,” she cried hoarsely. “I could lose everything, and I don’t even know what to call you. I don’t even know who you are.”
They struggled for a bit, her trying to get out of his stronghold, and him trying to contain her and keep them both from falling down the stairs. That’s the last thing either of them needed.
“Monica,” he half growled, half begged. “It’s still me. Still Zio.” He looked at her and tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. She stopped actively struggling, but her body was still tense as he held her in his arms.
“I’m still the man who can’t think of anything but you. Call me selfish, I deserve that, but don’t act like I’m not the same man that you fell for. Don’t act like what we have doesn’t matter.”
“It shouldn’t matter,” she cried, hiding her face in his chest. The desperation in his voice had gotten to her, taken the edge of off her anger, and left her raw. She tried to imagine herself in his place. If she was the one with a past, and he was the one off limits. Heck, he was already off limits and she hadn't been able to stay away. What did any of it matter if they couldn’t be together?
“It can’t matter,” she said shakily.
“Look at me.” He grabbed her chin, trying to make her see him. She let him turn her head, but averted her eyes. “Dammit Monica,” he growled. “Look at me.”
Monica didn’t want to look at him, but the pain in his voice and the begging tore her apart. What she saw in his eyes shredded her even more. He was broken, but he was sincere. And it made her want him more than ever. Her cheeks were wet with tears now, and Scratch held her face in his hands as he used his thumbs to wipe them away.
“Look at me,” Scratch whispered again. “See me.” He understood that she was scared. Shit, he was terrified of what the future held for him, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her slipping away from him. He was too far-gone. Monica had taken hold of his soul, consumed him so that he couldn’t imagine not having her for himself.
He kissed her then. Needing, more than anything, to show her how he was feeling. At first, she tried to resist. She pushed against him, and tried to turn her head away. It’s not that she didn’t want to, but she was certain she would be lost to him if she did. And she was.
The softness of his lips and the pressure of his mouth against hers felt so right. Felt more right than anything she’d ever felt before. Suddenly, she couldn’t get enough and grabbed onto the lapels of his blazer as if he would vanish if she didn’t.
“I need you,” he murmured against her lips. “I know you're scared, but I need you to trust me. I’ll explain everything. I’ll make things right. You mean too much to me to let anything happen to you. Tell me you believe me.”
Monica nodded, seeking his lips again with a needy whimper, the sound sparking his flame for her, until he felt out of control. He swept her up into his arms, leaning her back to the wall as she wrapped her legs around him. Then he finished the short journey to his apartment. He swiped his thumb across the electronic keypad, and kicked the door open with his foot. Monica was holding onto him so tightly that he couldn’t even think about putting her down. Plus, he wanted her so badly that holding her body to his as she ground her sex against him was the one thing keeping him sane.
He meandered through the place, bumping into furniture and walls along the way, each one tempting him to stop and take her on or up against it. Monica wasn’t helping as she tore at his clothing, forcing him to shrug out of his jacket, and ripping his shirt open so that the buttons went flying. She was already semi-naked, all bare arms and legs as her short dress rode up under her ass. Scratch damn near lost his mind when he first saw her in it at the club. Now his dick was straining to get to her.
His bedroom door was closed when they came to it. Scratch groaned, finding it difficult to make it just a few more steps to his bed. He stopped, propping Monica up against the door so that he could free his hands. He hurriedly undid his belt and zipper, freeing his engorged cock. Then he grabbed her hips, pulling her down so that he could feel her heat, sliding his shaft back and forth across the satin of her tiny panties. Monica let out a deep, throaty moan, and dug her nails into his shoulders. Scratch groaned as his cock grew harder.
He pushed the door open and strode towards the bed. The room was dimly lit, with amber track lights he had installed over his headboard for reading. He sat down on the bed with Monica still straddling his waist. Breaking away from sucking on her neck, he leaned back so that he could pull her skimpy dress off. Her skin seemed to glow under the warm lighting, and the strapless bra and panty set made her look like a playboy model. He loved her curves, the thickness of her hips, and the fullness of her breasts. He pulled her body close, wrapping his mouth around a puckered nipple and sucking.
“Zio,” she uttered as she released a sigh of satisfaction. She thrust her hips so that her pussy danced over his cock. Sounds of wild moaning filled the room, and Scratch realized it was him. She was driving him crazy. He couldn’t wait any longer. Reclining back, he rolled over quickly so that Monica was on her back. He reached down between her legs, sliding a finger past the seam of her panties to test her wetness. Of course she was wet. She’d been soaked since he had her up against the wall. Without another thought, he gripped his cock, slipped her panties to the side, and eased into her heat.
“Ah!” Monica wailed with pleasure. All the kissing, teasing and rubbing had her so worked up that the fullness of him inside of her sent her right over the edge.
“Christ,” Scratch choked out as her pussy rippled and clenched around him, and her cum cascaded down his shaft. He began to pump harder, thrust faster, plunge deeper. He wanted to hear her scream like that again. He wanted to hear her scream his name. When her body began to tremble and quiver and her breathing became erratic, he knew he had her.
“You know what I want to hear,” he whispered in her ear.
“Zio,” she complied.
“Say it again,” he panted
“Zio...”
“Louder,” he commanded as he shifted the position of his hips so that her pussy took all of him in. Then he rolled his hips, making sure to pump upwards, caressing her spot with each stroke.
“Zio!” She shouted as her climax began to kick in.
“God, yes!” He shouted as his own release hit him like a freight train.
When his body managed to stop spasming, he rolled to his side, pulling her with him so that they lay face to face.
Monica looked deep into his eyes as she caressed and stroked his cheek. Scratch moaned as he rubbed his stubbled jaw against her palm.
“Tell me,” she whispered.
There was no going back for him now, so he told her the truth.
Chapter 15
Scratch didn’t know exactly how he felt heading to work that Monday morning. Friday night had been a revelation, in many ways. He and Monica had stayed up into the early hours of the morning talking about his life, her life, and what had happened. It hadn’t been just about how he’d ended up in jail, and why. It had been about them. For the first time, he could say someone knew him better than the two men he’d created a life with under Eagle’s thumb. He could be himself. No lies, no stress, no worry about her finding out.
And that was the problem.
Monica knew enough to get her in trouble, if anyone found out what she knew. While he was happy to have found someone that he could share his life with, he didn’t know how much of a life he could giv
e her. Shit, he would have to be leaving the country with the others in his team to escape the set up Eagle had created. Would that mean he’d have to leave her behind? Could he? He just didn’t know the answer to those questions—didn’t even want to think of them.
As he drove to the office, breaking through traffic easy enough, he couldn’t stop thinking about the final kiss in his apartment before she dressed and left. She’d insisted to hail a cab a couple blocks away so no one would see them together if he took her home. Even though he understood the necessity of it, it still bothered him. She’d been the first women he’d brought back to his apartment, the first woman in his bed, and he’d had to let her sneak out to keep her career in tact.
He sighed roughly, pulling into his assigned parking spot. It couldn’t be helped, none of it could. They would find a way, they had to. For now, he needed to keep the investigation off Jack until they could get clear. Even the FBI would back off if they couldn’t find anything. Eagle couldn’t push too hard or he’d fall under suspicion. Scratch understood that game well enough. That at least gave them some breathing room. He got out his car and took the elevator up toward his office. About ten floors up, the elevator stopped and Scratch swallowed an irritated grunt.
“George Hines,” Agent Axe, said. “Just the man I wanted to see. Funny I catch you coming in.” Agent Axe got onto the elevator, with Monica coming in behind him. She smelled amazing—all lavender and passion. Scratch relaxed a little. She had that effect. She looked over him a moment, over Axe’s shoulder with a small smile on her face. Yeah, much better.
“What can I help you with, agent?” Scratch asked, trying to create some semblance of relaxation. He leaned against the wall and cocked his head at Agent Axe. Monica had told him about Roderick Axe as well. It seemed the man had a thing for Monica. Too bad that wasn’t happening. She looked on, confused, at Axe.
Ah, so pretty boy was playing his own game today.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Some thoughts I’ve had. Wouldn’t want to have this conversation on an elevator, you know?” Axe pressed the close button, not allowing anyone else on.
“You think? I may not care either way,” Scratch replied, letting his mask slip a little. It was only the two of them there.
“I know. But hey, why not,” Axe finished. He leaned forward and pressed the stop button on the elevator. Scratch tensed. Ten minutes. That’s how long it would take for the elevator to be forced to move. But, in two minutes they’d call in to make sure everyone inside was okay. A lot could happen in that time.
“What’s going on?” Monica asked, looking at Axe. The night before, Scratch wouldn’t have been able to tell if she was confused or bluffing. Now, he saw her through different eyes. Axe hadn’t alerted her about anything that he was doing now, and it worried her. Scratch tried to keep a lid on his anger for her sake. She’d seen it enough.
“George Hines didn’t exist before a few years ago. I wondered at that. Who has no real history? No paper trail? Started making me uncomfortable, you understand?”
“What,” Monica asked through gritted teeth, “the hell are you talking about, Axe?” She hissed the question at her partner, but it was loud enough for Scratch to make out. Axe looked at her a moment.
“Work I’ve been doing while your head wasn’t in the game,” he bit out.
“How dare—”
“Is there a point to this? I’m going to be late for work and not in the mood much for games,” Scratch cut her off. No use having her at odds with her partner. Anger made people slip, and Monica had a lot to lose.
“Fine,” Axe said, “let’s not play games then. Who were you fours years ago? Five? Ten?”
“That’s three questions. All of which I don’t have to answer. What you’re here for I’ve provided,” Scratch replied, placing his briefcase on the floor. He stood slowly, keeping his eyes on Axe. Monica sucked in a breath. Yeah, she’d seen him like this. She knew what could be coming. She stepped around Axe.
“This, gentlemen, is a conversation we can have in Mr. Hines’ office. I’d like to hear the answers as well, but this isn’t the place,” she added to her partner. She worked well under pressure. Scratch would give her that. And she never let on that any of this wasn’t news to her.
“Then how about I put it a different way? How the hell is Inzio Vikhrov out of prison and standing in front of me?”
Monica froze. Scratch didn’t outwardly respond. If Monica knew, then he wouldn’t be surprised if her wannabe boy toy went searching because he couldn’t get the girl. Not Scratch’s problem. Damage control was though.
“Who?” she asked, catching herself. “Vikhrov?” She looked to Scratch. She was convincing. He couldn’t show her his support, but he hoped she knew he was with her.
“And that would matter why exactly?” He asked, dropping his mask entirely. Fuck it. He was tired of being the nice guy. This shit was getting on his last fucking nerve. Axe could shove it where the sun didn’t shine and Eagle could take a flying fucking leap off the damn building. Scratch backed up a little, so his back was in the corner—easier to protect the sensitive sides and his body from kidney shots. If bitch boy wanted to tango, they could tango. At least if he acted like an ass it would take Monica out of focus if Axe started wondering why she wasn’t pushing hard with him.
“Because I asked you a fucking question, and you are going to answer. How you beat a quarter rap? Break out?”
“Mark’s case?” she whispered. For the first time Axe softened. He’d been close to Monica’s brother, she’d told Scratch. It was probably the first time he thought about the fact that his little game could backfire, but he was in too deep now to go back.
“I just did some research, Monica, and I couldn’t let it pass. Mark did good work on that case.” Axe didn’t understand Monica at all if he thought Mark had done a good job on that case.
“Answer the question, Mr. Hines,” Axe continued.
“You’re stupid and ugly as shit. Did you hear anything about a break out while you were searching dipshit? Try again.”
“I’m going to expose you, Inzio.” Axe had a smile on his face when he said it. That set Scratch off. Where did this fucker get off calling him by name, as if he was allowed? As if he meant a fucking thing to Scratch, that he was worthy of uttering those syllables. There one person on the elevator who had the right, and it wasn’t AXE.
“You listen to me. And you listen good, yeah? You haven’t got a fucking thing, pretty boy. I caught a plea. Too bad it’s above your pay grade to know about it. Keep playing with fire though, you’re going to find a bullet in you,” Scratch hissed, ignoring Monica’s gasp. Eagle didn't play easy when it came to shit like that. No one got someone out of prison on a federal case without an inside man. Axe could have endangered Monica just tapping into that shit.
“Are you threatening me?” Axe took a step forward, his manner aggressive, but Scratch kept his body loose. Trick to fighting in small spaces was keeping as much open area around you.
“Is everyone okay?” The question made Axe freeze. He stared hard at Scratch before turning and pressing the button on the intercom. While he was turned, Monica took the brief opportunity and ghost her fingers over Scratch’s hand. It was enough to calm him down.
“Clear here. Get me moving and I’ll be better,” he replied before turning again to Scratch.
“You’re worthless. You were then, and you are now. Always will be. No wonder your mother ditched you when you went to prison.” He said as Scratch lunged at him. “Ah ah ah,” Axe said, pulling his gun, but not pointing it. “Wouldn’t be a good idea. Now you’re going to answer my questions.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not my type, sweet cakes. How did you beat a RICO charge?”
“Roderick, this is going too far. Put your weapon away. Mr. Hines isn’t even a person of interest.”
“He is now. Answer,” Axe continued.
“Didn’t. Caught a plea. Told you already. My answer doesn’t chan
ge just ‘cuz you have heat in your hands.”
“Makes me more likely to believe it. So you caught a plea, and then what?”
“Changed my name, legally by the way. Anything else you are going to have to work for, and you don’t have much time,” Scratch said with a dark laugh as the elevator moved. “Anywhere else but here, and I’d break you,” Scratch growled.
“You know assault is a charge on the threatening words you use.”
“Yeah? And elevators have cameras,” Scratch said, lifting his chin towards the camera in the right corner of the elevator. “By footage, I backed up, you pulled a gun, I didn’t move. I have your badge. Play the game if you want. I don’t scare easy.”
“Axe, he’s right. He has enough to file a case against you if he wanted. Put your gun away and calm the fuck down,” Monica argued.
Axe, unfortunately, paid attention and put his gun away. Pity. Scratch would have loved to take him on anyway. The elevator doors slid open silently. Ignorant of the near miss that had happened within its walls as some of Scratch’s coworkers greeted him. Scratch stepped out the elevator and headed to his office, but Axe dogged his heels. At his door, Scratch waited for the agent to say something, aware they had eyes. Axe simply nodded toward the door, before speaking quietly.
SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2) Page 10
