Endgame

by Mia Downing

  “Punk,” she muttered.

  They waited. Jake ambled in and came back out a few moments later with the paper and a large to-go cup. He proceeded to sit at a table out front, whipped out a pen, and turned to the crossword puzzle section.

  “That asshole. He’s supposed to be working, not sitting on his ass,” Charlotte fumed. She yanked her phone from her purse and started texting.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Finding out what asshole thinks he’s doing.” Her phone dinged, and a moment after, they watched Jake text her back. “Christ on a motorbike, he lies like a rug,” she muttered. “He says he’s on surveillance across town. I’ll bloody kill him.”

  “Is surveillance over?” Aaron figured if it was, they could go get a latte, too. He was hungry now, and he’d skimped on lunch. Thanks to the iron pig, he didn’t even have leftovers waiting.

  “Oh, no, we’re going to see what Jacob does with his time while I’m babysitting.” She glared at him.

  “I take offense to that.” Aaron glanced at Jake, concentrating on the crossword. “Since he’s busy, you should blow me for being a good sport.”

  “It’s a public place.” She looked up and down the sidewalk. “You have morals.”

  “There’s no one around. I’ll warn you if someone shows up,” he said, never thinking she’d go for it. But a blowjob would take care of his pissed attitude, he bet. He didn’t know what it would do to hers. He pondered her for a moment and decided to lighten the mood. “Here’s a burning question—do you think vegans swallow? If I slap that into a search engine, would something pop up?”

  “I was a vegan. I swallowed,” she said and yanked at his pants. His cock popped free, already working on hard.

  “Was a vegan? Wait! I was kidding. This is a bit scary.” Obviously, she wasn’t kidding because his dick was in her mouth. He squelched a quick flashback as she gave him a scrape of teeth. “Charlotte. Stop.”

  She let the head pop free of her lips. “I promise I won’t use my teeth.”

  Then she was sucking him in, her tongue making loops and twirls like a naughty ballerina that chased away the bad memories. She took him deeper, her cheeks hollow as she sucked her way up his shaft. Then she concentrated on the head, her tongue rimming the corona, darting along that vee at the back, dipping into his slit.

  It was exciting as hell, with Jake sitting over there, people driving by, and the cop walking down the sidewalk—

  “Shit, Char, cop.”

  She stopped sucking and stuffed every inch of hardness back in his pants. She gave him a naughty grin and pretended to be looking for something. The cop wandered by, and Charlotte ducked her head back to his thighs.

  “No!” But she had his cock in her mouth again, sucking, twirling, kissing, nibbling, every nerve on edge. He tossed her baseball cap aside and sank his hands in her hair, stiffening his aching legs to fight the orgasm.

  “Come for me, love,” she whispered from her shroud of red wine hair. She returned to her task, her lips widening to suck him to the base.

  “Fuck.” He growled and came, deep in the back of her throat, the shortest blowjob in history. She sucked him dry, using her hand at the base to milk every last drop of him. He panted for breath. “What did I do to deserve that?”

  “Not a damned thing. I just wanted to feel you squirm as I made you come.” Charlotte replaced his dick in his pants and sat up with a satisfied smile, her hair a tangled, beautiful mess. “Going to question my morals again? Because blowing you in public is pretty immoral.”

  “Never.” She could make him squirm any time she liked.

  “Good boy.” She stared across the street, and her face paled. She slammed her sunglasses back down over her eyes and tried to make her hair neat again. “Shit. Surveillance is over.”

  Aaron turned as Jake crossed the street, paper under his arm, heading their way.

  “Hello there, children.” Jake leaned his forearm on the roof of the car. “Spy camp?”

  Charlotte lifted her glasses so Jake would be sure to catch the icy glare, no doubt. “Yes, asshole. Explain why you’re lingering here when you texted to say you were across town.”

  “Surveillance, only I’m better at it.” He arched his brow at Charlotte then slapped Aaron on the arm. “Be a man next time, Aaron. She offers to blow you, say ‘yes, ma’am’ and don’t scream bloody hell about it. It’s hard not to notice a screaming man. And notice I said bloody, Char. Your favorite word.” He smacked the top of the car and wandered back across the street.

  “Bloody asshole,” Charlotte muttered.

  “He knew what you were doing.” Aaron sank down in the seat. “Bloody hell.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and watched Jake go back to lounging across the street. “He’s just jealous.”

  “Is he?”

  “Hell, yes, he’d pay good money for a blowjob about now, and he can’t. It’s got to be eating at his insides.”

  “And Tia?”

  “Isn’t worried. He’ll just go through a liter of hand cream and fuck her senseless when he gets home. He’s very reformed.” She sighed and glared even harder. “Fucking spy camp.”

  Jesus, that woman had more attitude than he knew what to do with today. Despite the blowjob from heaven, Aaron had had enough. “Why does this bother you so much? I’m sick of your nasty mood. Put the big girl panties on and take your punishment from Chase.”

  Charlotte bristled as she glared at Aaron, not the least bit pleased with him. Of course, he had to be nosy and ask why this bothered her. It was bad enough she had to slink to him for nightmare protection. Now, he had to pester her about this. “I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t want to teach you, and that’s that.”

  Aaron set his jaw, just like Jake did when settling in for a batch of stubborn. “You do owe me. Tell me, now.”

  Charlotte groaned internally. “Or?”

  “I’ll call Chase and tell him I’ve been in your panties. They’re purple or black, and you don’t like thongs. I bet he knows that if you’ve lived with him.”

  “How do you know I don’t like thongs?” Yes, the boys knew well what she liked and didn’t like. They had to buy it for her in the beginning. It seemed Aaron knew too well, too.

  “Because you don’t own any, and you just told me.”

  Fucking punk. “Were you in my suitcase?”

  “I put stuff away for you this morning. I can’t help it if your underwear called to me. It was lonely.” He cast her a dirty glance, all randy boy. “I like that really gauzy black bra and matching panties. I bet your nipples will pop right out. I could suck you right through that material. Hot, Char. Really hot.”

  “What part of don’t touch my shit don’t you get?” And he thought she had no morals? But the idea of him sucking her through her bra and panties didn’t help the ache she’d developed sucking him off in public. “Panty creeper.”

  Aaron ignored that. “I’m tired of you glaring at me. This isn’t a big deal, teaching me spy camp. The studio hires professionals to do what you’re doing with me all of the time—the spy camp, not the sex. Is this a money thing? Because I’m sure my agent can arrange something for your time.”

  “It’s not about the money.”

  He groaned. “Then what? The truth, Char. Please.”

  “Fine.” She hadn’t told the truth this much since she was a schoolgirl. Spies lied all the time. It was much more satisfying. “I don’t want to taint you.”

  “Taint? Is that some weird, English combination of ain’t and something else? Or you don’t want to rub off on me.”

  “Rub off.” Smart ass. “You’re quite clear on what you think of my lack of morals.”

  He shrugged. “I had hardcore morals for eons. The spy life is a learning curve.”

  “John was married when I met him. I was eighteen. He was my professor.”

  Aaron blinked and clenched the steering wheel with his hands, obviously surprised by her admission. “You
’re a good woman, Char.”

  “I’ve killed more people than you’ve fucked. That right there is two huge commandments down.”

  He studied her for a moment, long enough to make her hold her breath and wait for the judgment. But then he shrugged again. “Immoral Charlotte is lots of fun when she’s blowing me in public. I’d rather have that girl with me.”

  She blew a lock of hair from her face, so frustrated. When she needed him to be judgmental to prove a point about herself, he had to go and be nice. “You shouldn’t be learning how to give me four orgasms and steal cars, but that’s what I’m teaching you.”

  He lifted his sunglasses, arched a brow, and gave her the slowest, dirtiest grin. “Doing a great job, too, baby.”

  “It’s not funny, punk.” She crossed her arms back over her chest and sank down in the seat. “I’ve never had issues before about what I do, until you. That’s bad, Aaron. I can’t suddenly grow a conscience about my job. Not if I want to live. I’m not a good person, and I’m bad for you.”

  “Whoa,” he said. “Let’s back up. First, I’m not sixteen. I’m a consenting adult. You can’t be bad for me if this is what I want to learn.”

  “You haven’t seen half of what I’ve seen or done half of what I’ve done. I don’t want to teach you how to do any of this, sex or spy. I want you to stay you, Aaron. Not become cold, hard, and mean like me.”

  He chucked his sunglasses on the dash and frowned, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “Okay, so this is two issues, surrounding our two camps. Sex and spy, am I correct?”

  “No. Yes.” She frowned. Was it? “It’s all the same issue. I know more than you do, and I don’t want to teach you to become something you’re not. I don’t want you to become me.”

  “Okay. So here’s what you’re not.” Aaron grabbed her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “You’re not coercing me to do anything sexually. I made up my mind when you sat on my lap that I was going to make love to you, come hell or high water. When we made love the first time, it was my decision and I coerced you into doing it.”

  And there was the L word, disguised by sex. She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Fuck, Aaron. We’ve fucked. Stick to the facts.”

  “I’ve never fucked you. I fucked Celia because I didn’t care about anything more than how fast I’d come. I care about you, and that changes the definition. If you want to agree to disagree on the fucking vs. making love issue, then fine. But I know what I’m doing in that department.”

  Yes, he did know, thanks to her. She closed her eyes and sank down in the seat, her knees on the glove compartment.

  “And if I recall, I researched and planned most of the sex we’ve had, except the first time I went to the South Pole. So if we want to be really clear, then I’m the one corrupting you, right?” He shrugged and looked contemplative. “Maybe I should ask for my money back on the sex camp part, since you’re not teaching me anything.”

  Was he for real? “Aaron—”

  “Shut it, Char. I’m not done.” He kissed her hand again. “Spy camp. It’s just a fun name, and like I said, I would be paying someone to teach me this anyway. But I want the best, and that’s you. I know my brother. When I got my ass kicked on the playground, he came running. He doesn’t even give me a second glance when he’s off to work, because he knows you’ve got it covered. That means you’re damned good, and he trusts you. Am I right?”

  “Yes.” Jake trusted her more than anyone in the field, even Tia. He also feared her, for good reason.

  “So I’m going to go one step further with this and tell you that I realize what you do that is immoral or illegal is to save your life. You have a rental car, so if you’re hotwiring one, then you’re in danger. If you’re killing someone, it’s because a life is on the line, or because whoever you’re killing makes the people behind nine/eleven look like picnic planners. Am I right?”

  “Yes.” It didn’t make her feel any better.

  Aaron tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. “Then you need to just chill and have fun with this. Spy camp will make me more marketable, more realistic as an actor. It’s refreshing skills for you. And the sex just rocks.” He tugged her over so her head rested on his chest. “Feel better?”

  She rubbed her face in his shirt and inhaled deeply. “No.”

  “There’s nothing to feel guilty about. I’m a big boy, and I’ve been more than capable of getting myself into trouble since I ditched the diapers.” He kissed her forehead and held her close for a moment, so spicy and soothing, yet arousing. Damn him for smelling that way. “Want ice cream, Ma’am? I have my wallet this time. I’ll let you go for four.”

  The naughty tone in his voice made her mind go immediately to four of something better he wanted to give her. She sat up and shifted in her seat to stop the ache in her core that had started during the blowjob. “Is that your solution for everything? Four?”

  “My solution would be to toss you on your back, tickle you so you smile, and then make you come, but I’m hungry. I want more lunch and you can be dessert.” He buckled his seat belt and started the vehicle, then gave her a panty-melting smile. “Research says use of food makes for better sex. I have a bottle of chocolate sauce and a can of whipped cream in the fridge. I say we see if they’re right.”

  She shook her head. Maybe he was right. She was just Pandora, opening the box of naughty that was Aaron. “You’re really not pure, are you?”

  “Nope.” He grinned again before he pulled out into traffic. “You’re worrying for nothing.”

  Maybe she was worrying for nothing about the sex part. Aaron was turning out to be a force to be reckoned with in bed. The spy stuff…she was worried, but Chase had commanded, so she was stuck.

  However, she didn’t like his fucking vs. making love argument. Anything that had love in it had to be wrong for a spy and her actor lover. She’d remedy that. No more sex that included cuddling, kissing, skin on skin. He was bolder now and he could take a bit of kink. Something inside her whimpered at the punishment, thinking it wasn’t fair to punish them both. Too bad.

  She was only here for a few more days, and she wasn’t taking a chance with lovemaking. Not when both her body and heart wanted it very, very badly.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two days later, Aaron searched the house, feeling like a jackass for holding the TV remote like a gun as he systematically cleared each room and searched for wherever Charlotte was hiding. She was an intruder. He held the remote because she wouldn’t unload her gun and give it to him.

  “It’s not a toy,” she had snapped when he had asked for her gun. “If you point my gun at me, you’re asking to die. If I point my gun at you, I’m committed to you dying.”

  “But the remote? Fucking lame.”

  “Just point it at me and press ‘off.’ You win.”

  “I think I have a better chance of trapping pixies with a milk crate out back.”

  She laughed, a sound so pleasing he’d almost forgotten he was holding the remote like a gun.

  “If you win, I’ll let you choose the sexual position,” she tempted. She knew damned well he was desperate to be on top, to the point that he’d roam through his house holding the TV remote, knowing he could have a whole fridge of ice cubes smuggled into hell by now. He was never winning anything, not the fair way.

  His phone went off, a text coming in. On your knees, punk.

  Christ, she was hiding and texting him? She’d done that the other morning, too. Jake left, she had sent the same text. He read it, and she snapped her fingers, a look of feral desire in her eyes. He’d dropped like a stone to his knees and crawled to her on her command. The power had shifted the minute he stuck his tongue in her mouth, but she had slung herself so seductively over the back of the sofa, her ass and pussy on such sweet display he had no choice but to make magnificent love to her right there.

  And from that point on, she’d kept him from being on top, had even gone so far as to limit their sex camp sessions to
two times a day instead of all they wanted. Fuck that, two times.

  He’d gotten wake-up sex this morning, Char showing him how to slip in from behind and gently bring her to orgasm, which was so far from the pounding the day before that he was touched by their gentle passion. Now she was offering reward sex, and it was only ten in the morning, which would be his two sex sessions. They had the whole evening ahead, and he could be working on getting four from her.

  Spy camp and sex camp pissed him off. He’d never been hornier. It all fucking sucked, the running, the sex limits, the no lovemaking. The idea of her hiding, ready to jump out and kill him made him harder than rebar. All he wanted was to make fantastic, hard love to her, make her scream, and then he’d come. Simple needs for a simple man.

  He smelled her an instant before she leaped on his back, wrapping her long legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. “Bang,” she whispered in his ear.

  His balls tightened, and he fought the surge of orgasm from shooting up his dick. “Christ, I think I came a little.”

  “That’s all it took? You’re not learning a thing about being in control.”

  “I can’t help it. You excite me.” He hefted her up on to his hips better and piggybacked her out to the living room. “Where did you hide?”

  “I went outside to the back porch, and then came back in.”

  “Cheater.”

  “You going to tell the bad guy he’s cheating, and that’s why he shouldn’t kill you? Learn to check the doors and windows as you clear a room.” She kicked his leg with her left foot and made him head around the couch. “And turn your phone off. You shouldn’t be getting texts while you’re working.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t help, texting me. You know that makes me horny, too.” He sighed. “So where’s the failure sex taking place?” It was only reward sex if he passed. He thought it was very fair of her to offer sex despite his failed performance, though he had tried hard.

  “Kitchen counter. Hurry, because I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny.”

  He piggybacked her into the kitchen double time. She slid down, stepped out of her pants and panties, and then hopped up on the counter. “Fuck me, punk.”