by Tina Folsom
“This feels good.” Scott’s breath blew against her nape.
She remained stiff in his arms, her head raised.
“What’s wrong? Relax, Phoebe. Rest your head against my chest.” When she finally did, his hand stroked leisurely over her stomach. “That’s better.”
“I need answers, Scott,” she blurted before her courage could desert her. And this time she wouldn’t stop until she’d gotten the answers she sought.
16
Scott sighed. He had the feeling this time he couldn’t pacify Phoebe with a kiss like he’d done the night before. But no matter what she asked, he would be the one controlling what he told her. He wouldn’t be cajoled into revealing his secrets, though he knew in order to keep Phoebe from mounting a mutiny, he’d have to give up some information.
“Why is this story so important to you?” he asked to buy himself some time.
“It’s not really about this story.” She hesitated. “Well, it is and it isn’t.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Phoebe shifted, turning her head sideways. “The paper is in financial trouble, and they’re letting people go. If I can’t prove I’m somebody worth keeping, I’ll be axed. And since the publisher’s son was one of the kids on the bus, he’s gotten it into his head to get your story.”
“So that’s why you followed me.” For a moment he’d thought maybe she’d followed him because she’d felt spurned by him. And some women just needed to have the last word.
“Well, your insulting note didn’t help. That’s for sure.”
He pressed her more firmly against his chest and dropped his head to hers. “I already explained why I wrote it.” He planted a quick kiss on her temple. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to tell your editor there’s no story.” Scott slid his mouth farther down and kissed her neck, but she pulled away, making it abundantly clear he couldn’t butter her up this time. “Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll tell you about myself.”
She turned her face to him, smiling, her mouth already opening, ready to ask her question, but he stopped her.
“But you can’t print any of it. If the public finds out about it, I’m as good as dead.”
Her face fell. “But there must be something I can give to Eriksson.”
“Make something up. Isn’t that what reporters do anyway?”
Outrage colored Phoebe’s face. “That’s not true! I only write the truth! I’m not some unethical gossip columnist writing for a worthless rag. I work for the Daily Messenger.”
Scott lifted his hands in defense. “Nothing personal, but I know from experience that not even the Daily Messenger always prints the truth. And with this lie you would protect me. Unless of course you don’t care what happens to me.” He threw the bait out there, hoping she’d bite.
She did, but not without making her own demands. “Fine, but you’ll tell me the truth.”
“Good, but you’ll never breathe a word of it to anybody. I’ll give you the truth.” Well, a sanitized version of it, anyway. Because Phoebe would never believe the entire truth, and it wasn’t for him to divulge it. Too much was at stake. He couldn’t risk the lives of other men like him, if some of them were indeed still alive and living in hiding like he was.
Scott pulled her back to lean against his chest and wrapped his arms around her again, one arm across her luscious breasts, one hand low on her stomach. So low that his fingertips were grazing the top of her mound, ready to take action if he needed to divert her attention when her questions went in a direction he didn’t want to take.
“I spent the first eleven years of my life in an orphanage in Richmond, Virginia,” he started. “I hated every moment of it. I didn’t belong there. I didn’t get along with the other kids. I was bullied. Well, back then, I guess they didn’t call it that.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“I don’t know. Nobody knows who my parents were. They abandoned me. I was found as a baby in a trashcan, barely alive.”
A shocked gasp came from Phoebe.
“I assume that my mother was a teenager and I was the result of an unwanted pregnancy.”
“Did you ever try to find out? I mean, these days with DNA analysis and everything…”
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to know who she is. She didn’t want me. So why would I want her?” Scott wasn’t bitter about it anymore. Because somebody else had given him the love he’d craved as a child. “I was adopted when I was eleven.”
“A good family?”
“A single man who gave me the home I needed. He taught me everything. He was my father in everything but blood. We were so much alike.”
“Could he have been your biological father? I mean, maybe he found out about you and came to claim you because he knew you were his son?”
Scott smiled wistfully. “No, he wasn’t my biological father. But it didn’t matter. I loved him and looked up to him.”
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” she asked hesitantly, pity evident in her voice.
“Murdered.”
“Murdered?” Phoebe echoed. “Oh my God!”
“I couldn’t prevent it.”
“Were you with him when it happened?”
“No. Had I been there, maybe I would have been able to save him. But they made sure they got him alone.”
“Did the police find the killers?”
“There was never an investigation.”
Phoebe spun around, staring at him in disbelief. “But for every murder there’s a police investigation.”
“The official story was that he died of a heart attack.”
Her eyebrows knotted. “But…I don’t get it. Are you sure he was murdered?”
Scott saw skepticism in her eyes now and couldn’t really blame her. If somebody were telling him the story, maybe he’d be skeptical too. “I never saw his body, but I managed to access the unofficial report.”
“Unofficial report?”
“They covered everything up, swept it under the rug.”
“The police? But if they did that, you’ll have to try to prove it. Go to the FBI, have them investigate. Or the government. There must be people who can help you.”
“I’m not talking about the police, Phoebe. I’m talking about the government. They are the ones who covered it up.”
Phoebe’s head went from side to side. “But why?”
“Because they can’t afford for anybody to find out that one of their top secret CIA programs was compromised and its director murdered. They can’t let anybody know the program even existed. And because of that, they’ve become accessories. I can’t trust them.”
“But don’t you think that’s—”
“Paranoid?” Scott finished her sentence.
“I was gonna say crazy, but paranoid works too.”
“I’m alive. If that means I’m paranoid, then I’m paranoid.”
Her forehead furrowed. “But why would they be after you too? Just because your father was the director of some super-secret government program? That makes no sense.”
Scott took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes. “Phoebe, I worked with my father. I was one of his agents. The people who killed my father are hunting me and everybody else connected to the program. And when they catch me they’ll kill me unless I kill them first.”
A shocked gasp came over Phoebe’s lips. She swallowed. “What program were you in?”
“I can’t tell you that. I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anybody else. Please don’t ask anything else. The less you know, the safer you are.”
Slowly, Phoebe nodded, then she turned fully and put her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him.
“What’s that for?” he murmured, surprised at her sudden show of affection. He hadn’t expected her to agree to his demand so readily.
“Thank you for telling me about you.”
He didn’t know what to say, suddenly feeling tongue-tied. And guilty
. Because he hadn’t told her the most important thing. He hadn’t revealed to her that he’d had a premonition about her death. And the knowledge that he was the only thing that stood between her and her killer sent an ice-cold shiver down his spine and chilled him to the bone.
Scott shifted to sit up with Phoebe in his arms. “The water is getting cold. Let’s dry off.” He reached for the plug and pulled it, letting the water drain as he got out of the tub and helped Phoebe out of it.
He opened the large linen closet and pulled a bath towel from it, draped it over Phoebe’s back and started to dry her off. When she took a step toward him, rubbing her still damp body against his, he was suddenly fully aware of her nakedness.
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “Scott,” she murmured, her lips parting while her hands reached for his face and the towel slid from her shoulders.
Automatically, his hands went around her back, one capturing her behind to press her against his growing erection. Maybe that’s what they needed right now—a reaffirmation of life, though Phoebe couldn’t even guess the extent of the danger she was facing. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?”
A tantalizing smile crossed her lips. “Are you always aroused that easily?”
Scott arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Do I need to?” Her fingers trailed down his torso, heading for his groin. “Or are you going to give me what I want voluntarily?”
“What is it that you want this time? More answers?”
She shook her head and licked her lips. Her hand now combed through the thatch of dark hair that surrounded his cock. When her fingertips made contact with his hard flesh, he hissed in a breath. Yes, making love to her would take the edge off. And after that he’d come up with a plan to prevent the event that could end Phoebe’s life. The premonition had shown him that they were already onto him and he couldn’t outrun them. It meant he had to fight them. Before they had a chance to force him into a corner.
“I think you know what I want,” she said.
“I think I do too.” Scott glanced around the bathroom, homing in on the spot where Phoebe had left her clothes and handbag. “Please tell me you have a condom in that purse.”
“You’re in luck. I always have one emergency condom on me.”
Scott lowered his head to hers. “I think this qualifies as an emergency.”
17
The moment Phoebe handed Scott the condom from the handbag, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the master bedroom. A few seconds later, Phoebe found herself with her back on the bed, while Scott stood there, looking at her hungrily. Already during the night she’d spent in his bed she’d thought he was an extraordinary male specimen, but today he appeared even more so. There was a determination about him, an intensity she could only assume was caused by the fact that he was on the run and could be caught at any moment. Why else would he look at her like a man who needed to experience everything he could because this could be the last time he had the chance?
When she stretched her arms out to him, he ripped the foil packet open and slid the condom over his cock, his hands almost trembling. There would be no foreplay today, no slow caresses, no drawn-out kisses. This would be an intense coupling, a passionate union of their bodies.
Scott didn’t say anything when he joined her on the bed and moved over her and used his knees to spread her thighs farther apart. Yet his gaze spoke volumes. He needed her. If only for this moment, this day, maybe this week.
When she felt the thick head of his cock at her sex, she only had a split second to take a breath before he breached her portal and drove inside. Only a groan came over his lips, while he clenched his jaw. Then his mouth was on hers and his tongue mimicked the actions of his cock, stroking her tongue in the same rhythm as his cock thrust in and out of her.
His pelvis slammed against her sex with each movement, hard and relentless, while his hands on her body practically immobilized her. As if he needed to have absolute control. Had she not seen the tenderness he was capable of, the compassion and selflessness he’d shown her at first night, she would have been frightened by his dominance. But now this side of him only added to the complexity of his character. A man who craved love—she’d gathered that from what he’d told her about his adoptive father—yet was forced to demonstrate strength and control, supremacy and power. Scott was showing her both sides of himself: the vulnerable one and the powerful one. She was drawn to both—the man she could comfort, and the man she could submit to.
And right now, she submitted to him and adjusted her movements to his demands. She allowed him to take what he needed from her, to prove to her with his body that he was strong, that he would fight anybody who threatened them.
Phoebe locked her ankles behind his butt, forcing him deeper into her while her hands roamed his body, wanting to feel him, to touch him, to remember him. Her actions seemed to spur him on even more, and his thrusts turned more forceful and faster.
When she gasped for air, Scott released her lips for a short moment, breathing hard, before he slanted his mouth over hers again and continued kissing her. As if something bad would happen if he stopped.
Phoebe felt strangely safe in his arms. Oddly protected. But more than that, she felt desired. Wanted. Needed. Much more so than when he’d worshipped her body by making her come with his mouth. Because that night he’d been in control of himself. Today he wasn’t. Something was driving him. And because of it, she saw the man beneath the mask, the man whose passion was raw and untamed, the man whose desires were unleashed. And he’d unleashed them on her.
Instinctively she knew this was a first for him. The first time he was letting himself go. The first time he wasn’t holding back. She felt it in his kiss and the way his body tensed every time he plunged into her.
Her own body heated, caused not only by Scott’s physical actions, but by the knowledge of what he was trying to tell her with them. She still had questions, even more than before he’d told her about his past, and she sensed there was so much more he was keeping to himself. But at the moment, none of that was important.
Only their lovemaking counted. And though Scott was neither tender nor gentle today, it was still lovemaking. Any outsider looking at them would have seen it as frantic sex where neither participant was looking for anything but his own pleasure. But the desperation with which Scott kissed her and the passion he poured into her proved to her this meant more than just physical release.
When Scott suddenly severed the kiss, she felt his cock jerk inside her. His face tensed and he cursed, before his body spasmed. For an instant she thought he’d have the same kind of seizure she’d watched him have the night before, but then she realized he was climaxing, and her body relaxed with relief.
Seconds later, he stilled and braced himself on his elbows to take his weight off her.
“I’m so sorry, Phoebe. You deserve better than me fucking you like an animal.” He looked away, seemingly too ashamed to meet her eyes.
She took his chin and forced his head back to her. “Scott, look at me.”
He opened his eyes.
“I enjoyed this.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t come. It was selfish of me.”
Phoebe stroked his cheek. “You’re not selfish. Or do I need to remind you of when you went down on me and made me come with your mouth?”
“How about I repeat that now?”
She laughed. “Oh, Scott, how about you just hold me in your arms for a while?”
“Is that all you want?”
“For now, that’s more than enough.”
~ ~ ~
At her words, Scott rose from the bed. After discarding the condom and cleaning himself off, he rejoined Phoebe in bed and slid under the covers with her. He pulled her against him, cradling her in the curve of his body like he’d done the night she’d spent in his bed.
He didn’t understand what had come over him, fucking her like this. Pounding int
o her without taking care of her, without seeing to her pleasure. But he’d needed this. He’d needed to feel alive.
Even though Phoebe had said she only wanted to be held now, Scott couldn’t accept that. He had to grant her the same pleasure he’d taken for himself. He knew she was aroused. Her sex had been warm and wet, and now, as he pressed his groin against her backside and slid his hand over her mound, he felt that same moist heat.
“What are you doing?” she murmured.
“What I should have done earlier.”
“But we don’t have any condoms left.”
“I won’t get inside you this time. And I won’t come. This is just for you.”
“You don’t have to—”
He cut her protest off by rubbing his finger over her center of pleasure.
“Lift your leg a little,” he coaxed. When she did, he guided his still semi-erect cock between her thighs and slid along her female folds. Her juices made the contact smooth.
“Now relax and let me take care of you.”
With slow, circular movements he caressed her clit, while his cock rubbed along her sex, sliding back and forth without entering her. The soft petals felt intoxicating. So amazing, in fact, he knew he would climax again if he continued doing this for too long. He tried not to think of the sensations that touching her like this sent through his body and instead concentrated on Phoebe.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered into her ear and continued caressing her.
“Hmm.”
His touch remained light and playful. Every so often he gathered moisture that oozed from her sex and bathed her clit in it, and every time he did so, Phoebe moaned softly. He wasn’t rushing her. In truth, he was going to draw this out for as long as he could. Whenever he felt her breathing accelerate and her body tense, he stilled his finger and only continued thrusting his cock along her folds. He’d gotten hard as an iron bar again, but this time he would only use his cock for her pleasure and forgo his.
