Taking Control

by Nina Croft

  Jess shook her head; she didn’t trust herself to speak just then. She took a shaky step back and glanced down at herself. Her jacket and shirt were open, her breasts spilling out of the white cotton bra. She shoved herself back in, wincing as her sensitive nipples scraped across the material, then dragged her shirt together and fastened the buttons, tucked the ends into her waistband and was decent as the door opened.

  She cast a quick look at Declan. He was leaning, one shoulder against the wall, ignoring the now steady rain, his legs crossed at the ankles.

  Dave stepped through the door, eying up the two of them, although they were nowhere even close to each other. “We’re ready to go.”

  “Good.” Her voice sounded firm. At least she thought it had, but Dave’s brows drew together.

  “You okay? Do we have a problem?”

  “No problem.”

  Declan pushed himself away from the wall and faced the other man. “We were just ironing out the finer details of Jess’s role.”

  “Really?”

  Steve entered the alley behind Dave. “You found her then?”

  “As you see.” Dave waved a hand in her direction, and she got the distinct impression he wasn’t happy. Maybe it was the tic in his cheek.

  “Well, I’ll let you go then,” Declan said. “I’ll be at my office if you need me.”

  “You’re not going anywhere yet,” Dave said. “We have another man on his way. He’ll be on duty with Steve until we get the roster organized. But until he gets here, you stay put.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to tell Dave to bugger off. Then he glanced at her and shrugged. “Okay.” He turned to Steve. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

  Steve nodded but didn’t speak.

  As he passed her, Declan leaned in close. “You owe me, baby girl. And I’ll be collecting.”

  Chapter Seven

  She’d thought she’d gotten away with it. Dave said nothing as the taxi took them back to the office. But as the entered the building, he steered her into one of the small conference rooms they used for meeting clients.

  “You have a hickey,” he said, his tone tinged with disgust. He shook his head. “How the fucking mighty have fallen. The ‘Ice Queen’ giving it out in an alley in broad daylight in the middle of London.”

  “We were just…talking about old times. No big deal.” She sat herself down on one of the upright chairs around the table, rested her chin in her hand, and waited for Dave to get over it.

  “No big deal? Really? Because I’m guessing Declan McCabe is the reason no one has won that pool we’ve got going in the office.”

  She ignored the comment, but she wasn’t being totally fair. This was a dangerous business, and Dave had a right to know what was going on and to worry that she would compromise the job. She’d hardly behaved in a professional manner. But shit, surely everyone was allowed to have a bad day.

  Though “bad” really didn’t describe it. Declan’s hands had felt so good. Why did her own never feel that way? For that matter, why did no other man’s? Was she doomed to find only him a turn-on? Maybe she’d been programmed too young. Now her body could only respond to one man. Crap.

  “Earth to Jess.”

  Dave waved a hand in front of her, and she snapped out of her daydream.

  “Sorry,” she muttered, sitting up straight.

  “So you should be. You left us with that asshole. I don’t like him. He’s got an agenda.”

  “Rory McCabe?” No, she didn’t like him either. And yeah, he was up to something. But matchmaking? It hardly seemed likely. And certainly not between her and Declan.

  “Why is he pushing this?” Dave asked. “Why us?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the honest-to-God truth. I’m as much in the dark as you are.”

  “But you still plan to take the job?” He stopped pacing and took the seat next to her, dragging it around so he could stare into her face. “Look, I’ve known you a long time. I’ve fought beside you. Christ, you’ve covered my back a dozen times. You’re the toughest woman I’ve ever come across, and I would have sworn nothing could get through that armor.”

  “So?” She gave a casual shrug. “Nothing’s changed.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, pressed his fingers to his forehead. “Like fuck it hasn’t. You’ve got a goddamned hickey. The pair of you were making out like a couple of randy fucking teenagers.” She looked away and he sighed. “All I’m saying is we can still walk away from this one.”

  “We’ve agreed to do the job.”

  “Then persuade me that we aren’t making a big mistake.”

  She hated justifying herself, but Dave deserved this. “Do you believe the threat is real? Does Declan need protecting?”

  Dave nodded. “Yeah. No doubt.”

  “And can we provide that protection.”

  “We can. I’m not so sure about you, and I don’t like the fact that he’s insisting you’re part of the team. And I like it even less that you’re caving in to that.”

  “I’m hardly caving in. I’m just going along with it for my own reasons.”

  “Will those reasons compromise the job?”

  She tugged on her ponytail as she considered her answer. Declan, whether she liked it or not, had the ability to make her lose all sense of where she was, of everything except who she was with, and what he was making her feel. Not good for a bodyguard. She was hardly going to be able to protect him if she was underneath him or on top or… But although she was shaken by the strength of her feelings, she had to see this through. Or she would never be free of him. Maybe as he’d said they should sate themselves on each other, and once sated, she’d dump his sorry ass and never look back.

  “Okay, so here’s the thing. We’ll work out a schedule and I’ll be on it, but not on it. We make sure I have back up at all times. Rory can pay.”

  Had she made a mistake letting Declan back in her life?

  The question refused to be banished as she lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

  But there was no reason why he should be a problem as long as she kept her wits about her.

  He was strictly business. Well sort of.

  Her hand went to her throat, and she stroked the mark he had left. What did he want from her? Protection against his dad’s matchmaking schemes? She just couldn’t buy into that one.

  Sex?

  More likely. Maybe like her, he felt they were unfinished business and if they shagged enough, they would eventually be finished and the craving would fade away.

  Or did he want something else?

  Maybe the next few days would clear things up.

  Right now, she needed sleep, but she twitched and turned and if she closed her eyes, all she could see was Declan.

  The phone rang on her bedside table and she jumped. It was close to midnight. Who the hell would call her now? Unless there had been some sort of disaster at work.

  She picked it up, but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  She recognized the voice instantly. “Steve? Is that you, darling?”

  “No, it fucking isn’t and don’t pretend you don’t know exactly who this is.”

  “Declan, what the hell do you want? There had better be someone trying to kill you right now, and they’d better have taken down both of the very capable guards I sent to babysit you.”

  “I told you I wanted you. That was the deal.”

  “And you’ll get me. Just not 24-7. Where are your guards?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

  “Don’t worry. They’re in the next room. I’m safe, but it’s nice to know you care.”

  “I don’t. But if you die, I don’t get my promotion. Furthermore, the company has never lost a client yet. I’d rather not start now. It’s bad for business.”

  “Sweet. So where are you?”

  “It’s midnight. I’m in bed.”

  “Naked?”


  “No, not naked.”

  “Could you get naked?” His voice sank lower and warmth washed through her. Just the sound of his voice sent tremors skittering across her skin. Why him? Why did he have to be the one to bring her body to life?

  He’d made no indication that he wanted anything more from her than sex. And she was good with that. She would never trust any man with her heart again. Least of all this one, after he’d done such a great job of shattering it the first time. The experience had taken something from her, something fragile that she guessed would never come back: trust.

  “Jess? You’re thinking too much. You know you want me. Need me.”

  “Want maybe. Need…no. And you know why?”

  “Tell me.”

  She reached across to her bedside cabinet and picked up her vibrator. “Because I’ve got something much better, right next to me.”

  “You have?”

  “Yeah, it’s long and it’s hard and it doesn’t have a mouth so no chance it’s going to say something that will piss me off.”

  “You like my mouth. You always liked what I did with my mouth.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Come on over, and I’ll remind you.” His words made the heat pool in her belly and warm wetness soak her sex. Because she did remember. She’d never been able to get enough of his mouth on her. And he’d seemed the same. He’d spent hours tasting her, licking, devouring. She bit back a moan.

  “You remembering yet?” he murmured down the phone. “I particularly recall how you used to love it when I—”

  She clicked on the vibrator and held it close to the phone. It was quiet on the other end for a whole minute. Then she heard a deep sigh.

  “Christ, I wish I was there. You got a camera on that phone?”

  “Not a hope in hell.”

  “My dick is so fucking hard. Has been since you walked out on me this afternoon.” His breathing was loud. “Tell me what you’re doing, Jess? Tell me how you pleasure yourself. Are you wet? Touch yourself.”

  She swallowed. But holy shit this was hot. She imagined Declan in his hotel room, sprawled on a big bed. The phone in one hand… “You first.”

  “Sweetheart, my hand is around my cock. I wish it was you, but if I don’t get off soon, I’ll explode. Go on, talk to me…tell me what you’re doing. Stroke your breasts.”

  She closed her eyes for a second, then took a deep breath. Jamming the phone in the crook between her neck and her shoulder, she slipped her free hand beneath her tank top and stroked her palm over the peak, imagined Declan’s dark head there, kissing her, his lips tugging on the nipples. She pinched one between her thumb and her finger and moaned.

  “You doing it, baby?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Now lower. Touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are.”

  She stroked her hand over her belly, then down under the drawstring of her pants. Her whole body quivered in anticipation. It had never felt like this before. Her fingers slid through the folds, gliding across her drenched sex.

  “Talk to me, baby.”

  “I’m wet.”

  “Wet enough to push that vibrator inside?”

  She wriggled out of her pants, the vibrator buzzing in her hand. “It’s sliding inside, Declan.” She pressed the head against her opening and pushed it inside, the vibrations tingling through her body. “And it feels so damn good.”

  “My cock would feel better. I need to picture this—describe it to me.”

  “It’s a rabbit, and the little ears are tickling me. Oh God.” She closed her eyes and it was Declan’s fingers between her legs, his cock deep inside her. She pulled the vibrator out and pushed back again, harder this time, then left it lodged inside, the pleasure building, a heavy weight in her belly, swelling and spreading outward.

  “What’s happening?” he asked.

  “I’m going to come in about ten seconds.”

  “We’ll come together.”

  An image of Declan, his fingers wrapped around his own cock, pumping into his fist, filled her mind. The sensations became too much, and she crashed over the edge, getting no relief as the vibrations continued, and she came again. She fumbled between her thighs, switched off the vibrator, and collapsed back on the pillows. She’d dropped the phone; it lay on the bed and she picked it up with a trembling hand. She licked her lips, swallowed, finally, managed to speak. “You still here?”

  “Oh yeah. That was sexy, baby, but next time I want to be there.”

  “Never going to happen. Good night, Declan.”

  …

  His father had once told him that everyone made mistakes. It was how you dealt with them that showed what you were made of. And what you learned from them. A man who made the same mistakes time and time again was…

  Desperate.

  Shit, he couldn’t believe they had indulged in phone sex last night. God, he’d been turned on. Almost as turned on as having her up against the wall in his office, or feeling her come apart for him in that alley, her hot, slick muscles, clamping on his finger.

  Jess had always been his one big mistake. He’d known from the moment he set eyes on her, in that tiny little scrap of a black dress, sitting at his father’s table in the nightclub, that she was trouble. Big trouble. She’d been swilling champagne and fluttering her eyelashes at his goddamn father.

  He’d put a stop to that.

  Even back then Rory McCabe had been going straight, and news that a seventeen-year-old was underage drinking in his club was guaranteed to piss him off. The police were always looking for an excuse to close him down. Any slight step out of line and they would throw the book at him.

  Declan had recognized Jess from school, although she was a year younger than him. She was seriously beautiful, impossible to miss. And he’d been eighteen. Horny as only a teenager could be. What was his excuse this time around?

  The apartment took up the whole top floor of the building. Paul had apparently run the possibilities past Jess yesterday afternoon, and this was the most suitable, the easiest to keep him safe.

  “Come on, boy.” He tugged on Grunt’s lead and the dog followed him reluctantly into the elevator. Grunt didn’t like new places—they brought his many insecurities to the fore—and Declan leaned down and stroked the animal’s big head.

  Grunt had adopted him soon after Declan had moved to the city. He’d found him injured and emaciated in the alley alongside his apartment building and taken him to the vet, got him fixed up, and Grunt had moved in. He’d never had a pet growing up. He’d spent too much time moving between continents for it to be viable.

  The elevator opened into a big marble-floored foyer with a multitude of doors leading off. He’d left his bodyguard in the reception area and been told that there was a replacement up here, but the place appeared deserted.

  He took a step farther into the room, Grunt’s claws clicking on the marble as the door opposite opened and Jess stood in the doorway. She looked exactly as she had on the previous two meetings. Black suit, white shirt, no makeup, hair pulled into a ponytail. He’d sort of hoped she would have made an obvious effort, tried to impress him, but nothing. Not that she needed makeup or fancy clothes. Just that his ego was getting a bashing. As his gaze dropped down over her body, he had a flashback to the sound of her panted breaths over the phone last night and his dick pulsed.

  “Morning,” she said, her face completely blank of expression. Then her gaze dropped to the dog at his side and he saw the first genuine smile since they’d met again two days ago. He hadn’t known she liked dogs.

  She strode across the floor and sank down on her haunches. “Is he okay with strangers?”

  “Yes. Though he’s not very obedient.”

  “I’ll send my friend Dani over. She’s a dog trainer. She’ll get him sorted in no time.”

  She reached out and stroked Grunt’s head, then scratched under his chin. And he felt a flicker of some emotion. He was jealous of his dog. Just because Jes
s was being nice to Grunt. But he didn’t want Jess to be nice to him. All he wanted from her was sex and then good-bye.

  Didn’t he?

  “What is he?” she asked.

  He shook himself. “I’m not sure. A bit of German shepherd, a bit of pit bull, a bit of Great Dane.”

  “A lot of Great Dane,” she replied with a laugh and something twisted inside him, flooding his mind with memories. Back when he’d first known her, she’d laughed all the time. What had changed her? She’d joined up only months after he’d left. He’d seen her service records; she’d done three tours in Afghanistan, probably enough to turn anyone serious. But why had she gone that route in the first place?

  “I didn’t know you liked dogs.”

  “You don’t know a lot about me. Then again, why should you? We had a fling when we were both little more than kids. There’s nothing else between us, and you don’t need to know.” She straightened and looked up at him. “On the other hand, I need to know all about you. Someone wants to kill you. Let’s go talk about that. There’s coffee on in the kitchen.” Without waiting for him to answer she spun around and headed back the way she had come.

  He released Grunt from his lead, but the dog stayed at his side as he followed her. A little twinge of guilt nagged at his insides that maybe he should have come clean and told her that his father believed the problem sorted. That he was in all likelihood in no danger. But he was pretty sure if he did that, she would walk out. And it wasn’t as though she was overly concerned for his safety. He was clearly nothing more than a job to her.

  And there was something else to consider. While she was guarding him she wasn’t putting herself in danger guarding some other asshole. A shudder ran through him at the thought.

  “I like your new apartment, by the way.” She sat at the granite counter that ran along one side of the room, a mug of coffee in front of her. She nodded to the coffee machine behind her and he went and filled up a mug for himself. “So I’ve read the report,” she said. “But I’d like to hear the whole thing from you.”

  He talked her through the events of the past few months. She stopped him now and then with questions. “You’ve been based in the US since college. Why the move back here?”