by Rachel Grant
He brought her to the edge of orgasm. “Do you want to come now?”
“No. Yes. No.” She leaned away and tugged at his shoulders. “I want you inside me.”
He stood up and leaned into her, tipping her backward. Lying next to her, he dragged her into his arms and kissed her deeply, then looked into her eyes. He’d pushed her to the brink, then stopped, and she squirmed against him, anxious for him to be inside her, but he wanted to savor this moment. What was to come might ensure this was all they would ever have.
He’d spent hours wondering if her slate eyes would darken when aroused. His grin started dangerously close to his heart as he looked into smoky gray irises.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re breathtaking.”
She smiled. “Do I turn you on?”
He slid a hand down her side, resting it on her luscious hip while he sucked on a nipple. “So much I’m in pain right now, Shortcake.”
“Poor baby.” She rose on all fours and kissed him as she slid down his body. She stopped, her head level with his crotch. She teased him cruelly, licking and nibbling the inside of his thighs, touching everything except his hard cock. She finally showed mercy and took him into her mouth.
She was an erotic vision with her ass in the air as she knelt over him. Her shimmering hair pooled over his legs while his hard prick disappeared inside the velvet softness of her mouth. He’d lost sleep imagining her silky hair draped over his thighs. He had a good, healthy imagination, but he hadn’t done the moment justice.
“Oh God. Erica. Stop.” He gasped. “I want to be inside you.”
She massaged him with her hand. “We need a condom.”
He reached for the nightstand and pulled a box from the drawer. “This should last us tonight, at least.”
She laughed and grabbed a strip of condoms. She ripped one off, removed the wrapper, and slid it over him.
Sheathed, he took over, flipping her onto her back and moving on top of her, settling between her thighs. “You said something once about lack of finesse.” He slid two fingers deep inside her. “You’re ready now, but I’m tempted to make you pay for those words by torturing you with endless foreplay.”
She grasped his penis and guided him toward her opening. “Don’t even think about it. You’ve hit an inside-the-park homer, but you’ve got to run the bases to score. A cocky walk now, and you might get stopped at third, or worse, get tagged out.”
He pressed against her. “No chance you’d tag me out now.” But she should. If she knew what was good for her, she would.
She cupped his face between her hands. “I want you inside me, Lee. Now.”
“We’re playing for the same team then, ’cause we’re both about to score.” He slid inside her.
Her eyes closed, and she let out a sharp breath and clutched him tightly to her.
“Open your eyes,” he said against her lips.
She shook her head.
“I won’t move, then.”
She scoffed. “As if you could stop now.”
He laughed and pulled back slowly, nearly pulling out of her.
Her eyes flew open. She locked her legs tightly behind him and grabbed his butt.
He kissed her and thrust deeply. Pleasure rippled through him. “Thank you,” he murmured as her eyes drifted closed again. “Your eyes”—he moved in a slow, even rhythm as she clung to him—“are so damn sexy.”
She let out a low moan. “Oh God, Lee. I was so close before…I’m going to come already.” She kissed him, her mouth clinging to his with the same ferocity as her legs wrapped around his hips.
He wanted to slow down, but his own orgasm slammed into him. He captured her moans in his mouth as their bodies shuddered together.
He wanted this moment to last forever. He didn’t want the harsh reality of the roles they played to intrude. But he had a job to do. And he would see it through.
Before he caught his breath, before his heart rate slowed, as the very last ripple of orgasm pulsed through him, he said, “So, is the proof the Aztec artifacts were stolen inside the box of Jell-O?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SHOCK AND DISBELIEF SPREAD through Erica. Had Lee really asked her about the Jell-O box as she was feeling the last waves of pleasure?
He looked down at her, expectant, waiting for her answer.
Horror surged past shock, and she shoved at him, wanting him out of her body, out of her life. He slid from inside her, but she was still trapped beneath him.
“Damn you! Get off me.”
“Answer my question.”
How could she have been so stupid as to end up here, now? “I can’t breathe.” It was true, but due to panic, not his body pressing on hers.
He shifted his weight, but she couldn’t escape from under his six-foot five-inch form. His hips still rested between her thighs. She scratched at his chest.
His full weight dropped on her as he used both hands to catch hers. He lifted her arms above her head and held them pinned. “I won’t hurt you, Erica. I want to help you.”
If his balls weren’t safely nestled against her crotch, he’d be on the receiving end of her knee right now. He must have planned that too. “Sonofabitch. Let me up, now!”
“No.”
Who was this man? “What do you want from me?”
“What I’ve always wanted. The truth.”
She didn’t even know what the truth was anymore. Would he condemn her because she’d violated her own ethics and taken a job from Jake? This situation was her own doing.
Stupid, stupid Erica for trusting Jake.
Stupid, stupid daughter for feeling a rush of needy joy when her mother suggested Erica use her apartment as a permanent address while she was in school. “You’ll be traveling so much doing fieldwork. I can handle your bills for you.”
Stupid, foolish child, so pleased her mom was acting like she loved her, at last. She’d never know if stealing her credit had been her mother’s intention from the start, or if the preapproved credit card mailings were too good for a financially strapped drunk to resist. She felt the tingling sensation that preceded tears and took a deep breath. She’d never cried over her mother’s betrayal and wasn’t about to start now.
No. She had a whole new betrayal to deal with.
Stupid, foolish woman for opening her body and mind to Lee. He’d given her an incredible orgasm, yes, but all she’d gotten was screwed.
He spoke, his voice soft but carrying a note of anger. “You have a history of bolting. You tell me your password is Riversong, and you’re out the door before I can form a question. I call you Cream Puff, and you storm away. I ask you about Novak, and you take off down the street. I had no choice but to wait and ask you when you can’t flee.”
“Why do you even care? You’re a frigging intern, for Chrissakes!” She tried again to push him away, but their bodies remained pressed together from shoulder to thigh.
“Whatever is going on with you could hurt the company and the campaign.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Shortcake, since I’ve met you, you’ve twice gone to see Sam Riversong. The first time you threatened to force an issue that would put the tribe’s land in jeopardy. The second time we met with Riversong, he was with Novak, a treasure hunter you’re terrified of who is also trying to team with Talon & Drake. I know treasure hunting is bad news in your line of work. Then there’s the fact that your office and apartment were trashed, and someone tried to kill you. It doesn’t take a brain trust to deduce something is up, and it involves you, the company, Novak, and the tribe. Joseph Talon’s tribe and Joseph Talon’s company. You bet I’m worried.”
She’d been so transparent, taking comfort in the fact he was an intern, hoping he wouldn’t clue in to her abnormal handling of the Thermo-Con project. But he’d seen it all, put it all together, all while flirting and touching, enticing her into his bed. “So you fucked me so you could question me.”
He cupped her face between
his hands. “I made love to you because you’re all I’ve been able to think about since the first moment we met.” His eyes were earnest. “I wanted you then. I want you now. I can’t explain why I want you so badly. It just is. Like the need to breathe.”
Her breath hitched as her nipples hardened and her pelvis clenched. Hurt. Anger. Desire. They all boiled inside her until something snapped. Tears broke free and slid down her cheeks.
She swiped at the tears and pulled herself together, halting both the tears and accompanying sobs. Jake had broken her with torture and threats. But Lee had broken her using her own fragile need for affection, her unfathomable but undeniable attraction to him.
He wrapped her in his arms. “Sweetheart. Tell me the truth. Please.”
“I can’t.” He might be friends with the Talons, but he was still just an intern, a twenty-five-year-old career student. He couldn’t protect her from Marco.
“You need to tell me what’s going on.”
She began to shiver uncontrollably. He reached across and pulled the comforter over them, wrapping them both in a silky down-filled cocoon. She was still trapped, but the thick bedding was aptly named.
“Tell me why you worked for Novak.” He caressed her back, then slid his hand along her shoulder and behind her head, where he threaded his fingers through her hair. Here at last was the affection she’d craved, the postcoital tenderness she deserved.
She pulled away from him as far as she could, which meant a meager half inch separated their naked bodies.
Was that compassion she saw in his eyes? “Tell me.”
She had no choice. “Fifteen months ago, I was in graduate school at the University of Hawaii, working towards a PhD in underwater archaeology, when my mother died.”
She saw relief and something else in his expression. He cupped her face and kissed her cheeks; then his lips found hers, and she couldn’t resist him. She needed his comfort, his affection. She must be a glutton for pain.
He whispered against her lips, “Thank you.”
She took a deep breath and found the tightness in her chest had loosened. The truth was surprisingly freeing. “I had some grant money, which I used to pay for my mother’s burial. It was too late to apply for a student loan to replace the money, so I applied for a consumer loan and was stunned when I was denied. I checked my credit report and discovered someone had stolen my identity. It was easy to trace who did it. She hadn’t even tried to hide what she’d done. The bills were mailed to her address. Before she died, my mother racked up over a hundred thousand dollars in debt in my name. She’d—she—” She stopped. She didn’t want to admit her own mother hadn’t given a damn about her.
Lee’s arms tightened. His lips found her forehead, then traced her hairline. “I’m sorry.”
She cleared her throat. “She’d taken out seven credit cards and maxed out every one. I found dozens of collection agency notices—all sent to me at her address. I’m still fighting the credit card companies. The people at the credit bureaus didn’t believe a mother would do that to her child. They said my mother’s inability to defend herself was ‘too convenient.’”
“How did your mother die?”
“She was drunk and wrapped her car around a tree.” She paused, then added, “I feel bad for the tree.”
“Oh, Erica, honey…”
The way he held her told her he understood her bitterness, and she wondered about his relationship with his parents. She’d learned long ago—when she was a teenager and her mother was still alive, and still, supposedly, taking care of her—people didn’t understand. Mothers were to be worshiped. Mother’s Day was a sacred holiday, and any deviation from that line was a sign she was a bad daughter and a terrible person.
She snuggled against his warmth, wondering how big a mistake she was making. But she needed him, needed this. She needed one damn person to care about her. Just one.
“Have you declared bankruptcy?”
“That would be an admission of guilt, but I’m innocent. I’m a victim of fraud, but because my own mother stole from me, I’m supposed to suck it up.”
“Do you have a lawyer?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re just lining up to take me on credit.” She lifted her chin. She hated the pity she could see in his eyes. “The debt is frozen, pending investigation. The problem is, so many things depend on credit. I wouldn’t have gotten a lease if Janice hadn’t known my landlord. I can’t afford the place, but I had no choice—with my credit, the only apartments available were scary. I can’t get a credit card. Can’t get a cell phone beyond a pay-as-you-go plan. Right now I’ve got exactly twenty-seven dollars until next payday—five days from now. If I don’t drive or eat, I might make it.”
He rested his lips against her temple. “And so you took a job from Novak.”
“I didn’t have a dime for tuition, and my student loans would come due if I dropped out. I was reeling from my mother’s death, from what she’d done, when Jake—who knew my financial situation—offered me a job. For one summer’s work, he said he’d pay me enough to get me through two years of school. I knew I was risking my reputation, but he promised me—I was so fucking stupid—analysis would take precedence on the excavation. Salvage and profit were supposed to be secondary.”
“But he didn’t keep his promise. What happened?”
“We had a disagreement and I didn’t complete my contract, so he refused to pay me. He told my professor I’d worked for him, and I was politely instructed to withdraw from school. Within weeks, I couldn’t get a job in California. Within a few months, the entire West Coast was out. So I moved here and got the job with Talon & Drake. The rumors haven’t reached Janice yet. I’ve lived in fear she’d hear about me every day since.”
“What was your disagreement with Jake about?”
If she told him the truth, he might make the artifacts discreetly disappear—before they could harm Joe’s campaign—and without the artifacts, there was no evidence a crime had been committed. There would be nothing for the FBI to investigate. She’d live the rest of her life in fear of Jake and Marco. And the rest of her life probably wouldn’t be very long.
It might not play out that way, but could she really take that chance? “He was raping the shipwreck, destroying the data to get to the artifacts.”
“Why did you warn Joe about Aztec artifacts?”
For a moment, she’d hoped the senator would be able to help her, but Marco was there to remind her she couldn’t admit to having proof without endangering herself. Until the artifacts were made public, she was on her own. “For exactly the reason I said. There are people who feel like Aztec artifacts belong to the people of Mexico, not some casino in Maryland.”
“Did Jake find artifacts on the shipwreck? Could he have sold them to the casino?”
“I wouldn’t know. I left the project early.” Please let this drop.
“Why did you run from me today?”
“I don’t want anyone to know I worked for Jake. If Janice finds out, she’ll fire me. I was scared. I’m still scared.”
“And the box of Jell-O?”
She couldn’t flinch, couldn’t give him any reason to doubt her. “It’s where I kept my savings.”
His voice hardened. “Try again.”
“Fuck you if you don’t believe me.”
“Been there, done that.” His sudden anger spoke volumes. This man—who didn’t care about archaeology, history, or culture half as much as she did—had the gall to condemn her.
“I’m leaving.” It took her a minute to get free of the blanket. She gathered her clothes from the floor and stopped when she found her torn underwear. How many minutes ago had he ripped her panties from her? A wave of pain slammed into her, and she dropped to her knees on the carpeting. “Damn you,” she whispered.
She had to get away. She hugged the clothes to her chest and started to stand but felt a hand on her shoulder. His arms came around her, pulling her against his chest. His lips pressed her hair.
“If you don’t want to see me again, I’d understand.”
Damn right she never wanted to see him again. The sonofabitch had used sex to get her to spill her secrets—not because he was worried for her, but because he was concerned about a campaign.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Too late.”
“I’m sorry.” His cheek rested on her hair. “I’m angry. I thought you decided to trust me. Then you lied again.”
“Why should I trust you? I don’t even know you. And what I do know, I don’t like.” She felt him stiffen and knew her words had hurt him. Good.
“I had that coming.” He turned her to face him. She saw pain and anger in his deep green eyes. “Regardless of what you think of me, I care about you and want to help you.”
His hands dropped away; she could bolt if she wanted. She hesitated and then asked herself why.
“We’re good together, Erica. Really good.”
She pulled on her pants and wished her shirt wasn’t by the front door. She needed clothing, protection. She needed to get away from him while she still had a shred of sanity. “I’m leaving.”
“Don’t!” He reached for her but then dropped his hands. “I’m sorry. Please stay.”
“Why?”
“If you leave now, you’re running away. Again. I didn’t take you for a quitter.”
“Please, you’re going to have to come up with something better than that tired line.”
“How about I want you; I’m falling for you.”
“That’s two. Three clichés and you’re out.” She picked up his shirt and slipped it on.
He grabbed her shoulders. “Dammit, Erica! I’m crazy about you. So crazy I’m angry you don’t trust me—and lash out and say stupid things. I’m so damn wild for you that I want to toss you on the bed and make love to you until you can’t think, can’t walk.” The turmoil in his eyes cut into her. “Can’t leave me.”
She caught her breath. He spoke the truth. And dammit, she still wanted him. She found a shred of resistance. “What do you want from me this time?”
He kissed her, then spoke against her lips. “Nothing more than to look into your eyes as I make you come, repeatedly.” His kiss was hot, sensual, like a drug, and she wanted another hit. “To make you forget what a jerk I am.”
