by Kit Rocha
"Uh-huh." Scarlet snuffed out her cigarette. "If you two promise not to make life harder for folks around here, I'll make sure you get the information you need. All of it."
"All right." Bren leaned forward. "Who backed Trent's play to blow Dallas O'Kane off the map?"
She shook her head. "That, I can't help you with. Trent took the secret to his grave--if he ever knew at all."
An anonymous partner. It made a twisted sort of sense. A man like Wilson Trent might not have considered that anyone who wouldn't reveal his identity had his--or her--reasons. He would have taken the money and counted himself lucky, not convenient. He never would have wondered if maybe he was meant to take the fall.
"He got reckless near the end." Six rested her chin on her folded arms. "Overconfident. A couple of them wanted him to kill me outright, but he couldn't resist shoving my face in how worthless I was one last time."
He's dead. A reminder, one Bren needed. Dead. "So we trace the money and the explosives. Everything leaves a trail."
Scarlet opened her mouth only to close it again. After a long moment, she lit another cigarette. "There might be a way. If I can find him."
Six straightened. "You mean Noah? Is he still around?"
"I said if, didn't I? Who the hell knows with that crazy bastard."
Bren reached for Six's hand. "Who's Noah?"
"He's this genius out of Five or Six, no one's really sure." Her fingers curled around his, warm and strong, and she smiled. "Scarlet's right. He's crazy, but he's also some sort of tech genius. He can get into Eden's systems and find or change things."
"Where does he live?"
"Who knows? Sometimes he surfaces to meet people for jobs. Otherwise, he makes them crawl underground to him, but never in the same place twice." Six glanced at Scarlet. "If we put it out there that I want to talk to him, he might show up. We got on okay."
"I'll shake some trees," the woman allowed. "See if he falls out. Where will you two be?"
"Home," Bren told her shortly. "Time to report back to Dallas, see what he wants to do next."
"Riff knows where to find us," Six added as she rose. "You should be proud, by the way. He's the only one who hasn't opened his mouth and said something stupid to one of O'Kane's women."
Scarlet smiled. "He knows better."
Bren laid his hand on Six's elbow as they headed for the door. "Do you need to stick around here tonight?"
"In Three?" She shook her head. "No, I want to go...back. Unless you're staying."
If they left immediately, they'd make it back in time to give Dallas his report before morning. "You can ride with me if you'd feel safer."
She stopped next to his bike and pivoted to stare up at him, her eyes considering as she studied his face. "Won't that make it harder for you to maneuver?"
He could handle the machine in his sleep, so the only danger was to the remaining bike. If it got lifted, Dallas would be pissed, but Bren figured it'd be worth it.
For a few minutes in that warehouse, Six had been open to him, soft and trusting in a way that kicked off a chain reaction of protective instinct. He'd destroy anything or anyone that hurt her, but her--
Gentle. Careful.
He wanted it again, the feeling that she would gladly put her body in his hands because she knew it'd be all right. This time, it wasn't about sex. It was about her faith in him, her confidence that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Not now, not ever.
"Ride with me." He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "I can handle the bike."
"Okay." She hugged him, squeezing too tight and then springing away after a nervous moment. Still awkward and uncertain, but she made up for it once she was behind him on the bike. She wrapped herself around him, chest tight to his back, thighs riding alongside his hips.
"Hold on," he murmured, then revved the engine.
Jared
Three o'clock in the morning was too damn early--or too damn late--for high-pitched, squawking giggles.
Apparently, no one had ever informed the curvy blonde hanging off Ace's arm. Jared sighed and pushed the door wide. "Come in and introduce me to your friends."
Ace grinned and prowled inside, dragging the woman with him and leaving the other man to trail behind them like a silent shadow. "Jared, this is Sally--"
"Susi," the blonde squealed, smacking Ace's shoulder with a delicately beaded clutch that could only have come from Eden. She reeked of the city, of money, an adventurous socialite slumming on the arm of a dangerous sector gangster.
Not Ace's usual type, so it was no surprise when he waved a hand at Jared. "Susi, then. Susi, meet the man of your dreams."
Terrific. Jared forced a smile and kissed the back of her hand. "I don't suppose you have a driver waiting for you downstairs, do you, love?"
She beamed up at him, bright and breathless and so very, very drunk. "Yes. Would you like to go for a ride?"
She had a pleasant face and curves that wouldn't quit. Entertaining her wouldn't be a hardship--if she were sober enough to appreciate him. "Another time." He pulled a card from his back pocket and pressed it into her hand. "Saturday night at seven?"
Within minutes, he had her tucked safely into her vehicle, his card still clutched in her hand. It hadn't taken long, but he still returned to find that Ace had kicked off his boots and was rifling through his stash of liquor. "Sorry, brother. It was cold, and the only way she'd give us a ride was if I promised to introduce her to you."
"I see," Jared said absently. His attention was on Ace's other companion, who sat at the far end of the couch, silent and decidedly less bubbly than Susi had been. "Hello."
"That's Cruz. He's one of the new-- Aha!" Surfacing with the whiskey in hand, Ace threw himself back down on the couch and didn't quite look at Jared. "Cruz just took ink, but he's from the city. Bren's friend. Cruz, this handsome bastard is Jared. If you ever met a rich lady in Eden who looked sexually satisfied, it was probably thanks to him."
Jesus, maybe Ace was drunker than he'd thought. "The former MP?" Jared asked.
"That's me," Cruz said, offering him a small smile. "Nice to meet you."
"And you, as well." Jared sank into his favorite chair and eyed the two men on his sofa. Last he'd heard, Cruz had snaked Rachel right out from under Ace's nose. So either his friend was playing one hell of a dangerous game, making nice with a sexual rival...
Or things were even more complicated than they seemed.
Ace twisted open the whiskey and took a swig before offering it to Cruz. "I've been showing Cruz around the sector, now that we're partnered up. I took him to one of Gia's parties tonight, and she wanted to eat him right up."
The larger man shifted uncomfortably, the liquor bottle clasped loosely in his hands. "She was very...friendly."
"She was sizing him up for her harem, is what she was doing." Ace nudged Cruz with one foot. "Shoulda seen her pout over Dallas getting to him first."
"I believe it." The man was huge and built, the way Gia liked. "Were you two working security, or merely out for the night?"
"Purely recreational. I was trying to get this sorry bastard laid--"
Cruz groaned and dropped his head forward.
"--but he's like that old fairy tale. You know, the one with all the bears. This girl's too nice, this one's not nice enough. And I'm over here telling him that all you need to do is get your clothes off, and it doesn't matter where your dick ends up. As long as everyone's having fun, it's always just right."
The longer they sat there, the more surreal it all got. Jared cleared his throat. "What happened to the bed Goldilocks here was sleeping in?"
Cruz blindly shoved the bottle back into Ace's hands and rose. "Can he stay here? I didn't want to leave him alone, not this drunk, but I need to get back."
Jared's first instinct was to apologize, but he bit it back. Better for him to leave than to hear difficult words meant only for Ace's ears. "I'll take care of him. Be safe on the streets."
Cruz leaned down to pat Ace's shoulder awkwardly. "Enjoy the hangover, buddy."
"O'Kanes don't get hung over," Ace replied grandly, but he let Cruz leave without protest, despite his earlier complaints about the chilly weather.
The first thing Jared did was reclaim the bottle. "What are you doing, man?"
"I was drinking." Ace sighed and twisted, swinging his legs up onto the couch. "It's not what it looks like. I swear."
"I don't even know what it looks like, so you may as well enlighten me."
Ace stared broodingly at his feet for a solid minute. "Rachel dumped him," he said finally. "I don't know why. He's fucking stupid over her."
Jared had seen the woman look at Ace, her dark eyes covetous and hungry. "Maybe she dumped him for you."
The weirdest part was that Ace didn't even argue. "Maybe. Don't know if that'd be a good thing."
"What, you don't want her anymore?"
Ace shot him a glare--and a middle finger. "Yup, you figured me out. Got it out of my system. Clear skies, bring on the pussy."
Defensiveness and irritation--Jared could work with that. "Hey, I figured there must be some reason you were out drinking with the ex instead of making your move. It's not like you."
"He fought for her."
So had Ace, in his own way. He'd watched Rachel, held back when he wasn't sure what to give her or how. "He's a great guy, big deal. You are, too."
"You're not listening." Ace sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "She dumped him on his ass, and he still risked everything to drag me into the cage. Not to win her. To protect her."
No hint of humor or denial colored his words, just a grim certainty that shadowed his eyes. He wasn't joking around, and he wasn't playing a game.
He was stepping aside.
Jared took a swig from the bottle. "What's your plan? You turn him into the perfect lover, shove them together, and...what? You go back to your cold bed alone and think about what a good, noble thing you did?"
"Stop twisting shit," Ace snapped. "I may not have turned out as fancy as you and Gia, but I got all the same training. You can't play me."
"I don't have to," Jared shot back. "Because I've known you for years, since way before Ace ever existed. And I know all Alexander Santana's secrets."
"Yeah? Well, it goes both ways. Look me in the eyes and tell me you know how to love someone. Not for a few hours or a night. Not for a gig. Tell me you know how to really fucking love someone."
He thought of Susi the squealer, and about the woman who'd crawled out of his bed less than an hour before Susi's unceremonious, drunken arrival. He cared about them, all of them, exactly as much as he needed to.
No more.
"I don't," he admitted softly. "But you always were a better person than me. You just have to see it."
Ace reclaimed the whiskey and slumped back. "It doesn't matter. It's not like I have some big fucking plan. Maybe I was thinking that right after the fight, but the truth is stupider. He's...kind of fun."
Jared's breath escaped him on an unexpected laugh. "Fun? You're tragically drunk."
"Nothing tragic about being drunk on O'Kane liquor." But Ace wasn't smiling. He was staring at the bottle, his dark eyes tired. "I gave her a tattoo."
His pain was palpable. Pervasive. "Of what?" Jared asked gently. "More flowers?"
Ace shook his head. "I could have had her. She was still with him, but when she's under the needles... Some people like the adrenaline, but she goes beyond."
She liked pain, the kind that came from the buzz of the needle. Maybe that was why Ace couldn't quite shake this obsession, despite his better judgment. "Plenty of women are like that. You can find another one."
"I have other women like that. Doesn't help. Beating the Eden out of Cruz so he can be her prince won't help either. You know what'll help?"
Sobering up. A second chance. Another drink. "What?"
"Time, brother. We all keep smashing into each other until we fit right. All of us, even Rachel and Cruz. Even me. Even you."
There was no room to argue with such nihilistic assurance, nothing to do but nod as Jared snagged a clean glass from the cabinet beside his chair. "Time heals everything," he agreed.
Even me.
Chapter Six
She'd crept out of a lot of men's beds over the years. Now Six was trying to creep into one.
Not that there was any creeping with Bren. His door was locked, forcing her to wait, barefoot and nervous, praying none of the other doors in the hallway would pop open before he answered her hesitant knock.
The door opened a crack before swinging wide. "Six?"
Her boots usually made her taller. Without them, she was left staring straight at his bare chest, not to mention those damn shoulders she couldn't stop lusting after. For once, she didn't resent the butterflies in her stomach or the quickening of her pulse as she lifted her gaze to his. "My turn."
He stilled, and he exhaled on a slow hiss. "Is that so?"
"Yeah." She inched forward, close enough for her breath to skate across his skin, close enough to feel his warmth even through her tank top. Her survival instincts kicked in, warning her to back away, to meet him on neutral territory. But she'd ignored that warning already, the moment she'd rolled from her sleepless bed prompted by nothing more than vague yearning.
She didn't know why she was here or what the hell she was doing, but she was tired of resisting temptation. So she leaned in, pressed her lips to one of his beautifully formed shoulders, and silently begged him to drag her into his domain.
Bren groaned and lifted her closer with one hand on her ass. Then he stepped back, taking her with him, and kicked the door shut.
Sweet darkness enclosed them both. She moaned and wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging as she kissed the parts of him she could reach--his throat, his neck, the stubbled line of his jaw.
It was safe to be desperate in the darkness, because no one could see how weak her desire had left her. "Let me," she whispered, and God, she was practically begging. She hated herself for it, even as she used the leverage of her legs around his body to rub her hips against his. "Let me get you off."
Her back hit the wall, and Bren lowered her feet to the floor. "With your hands or your mouth?"
His voice was rough already. She wanted it raw, and she knew the power of giving a man his dirty fantasy. That was the reason she slid to her knees--not because she could almost taste him on her tongue. "Both."
Bren leaned forward with a growl. Just enough light filtered under the closed door for her to admire the flex of his arms and shoulders as he braced his hands against the wall. "Do it."
His loose pants rode low on his hips. She traced her fingertips above the waistband, reveling in the way his muscles tensed under her touch. This had to be the way the O'Kane women felt when they were on their knees, smug and drunk on the power of watching big tough men pretend they were issuing orders instead of begging.
She wouldn't make him beg. Holding her breath, she hooked her fingers over the top edge of his pants and eased them down just far enough to free his erection. He was hard enough to make her heart pound, but metal glinting in the dim light caught her attention. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and, ignoring his sharp breath, traced her other up until her fingers reached the crown.
Bren had his cock pierced. Twice.
He laid his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers even tighter around his shaft. "Watch your teeth," he whispered. "Some people don't like how the metal feels on them."
She couldn't help herself. She touched the smooth, curved surface of one barbell and glanced up at him. "Do they like how it feels other places?"
His chest rumbled. "You mean will it make you come harder when I fuck you?"
The jewelry was warm from his skin, but it still felt cool on her tongue as she traced the shape of it, teasing them both. "Will it? Dicks aren't the part of fucking that makes me come."
"We'll see
, won't we?"
Nothing ambiguous there. Brendan Donnelly was going to fuck her. He'd probably take his sweet time about it, but the dick straining under her hand would be inside her, filling her more than his fingers ever could, and she was starting to think she'd like it way too much.
Hell, she already did. She liked tasting him like this, circling the crown of his cock in unhurried licks, indulging herself by exploring the intriguing contours the piercing added. She knew how to suck a guy off hard and fast, but as badly as she wanted to see him come, there was something to be said for watching his muscles jump as he groaned and leaned his head against the wall above her.
Then he slipped his fingers into her hair, holding her head still, captive, as he flexed his hips and thrust into her mouth.
Six stiffened before she could stop herself, caught between a dizzying rush of arousal and the instinct to fight his grip on her hair. But it was all so gentle, his hands warm and firm, caging without hurting, and the glide of his shaft between her lips, over her tongue... God, it was twisted, perverse, the way Bren could make her helpless and still make it hot.
He soothed her trembling with a soft noise. "Only what you want, sweetness. I swear it."
She believed him. Believed him enough to relax and let her hand fall away from his shaft. The least trusting part of her braced for him to shove deep enough to choke, but he pulled back instead, then slowly thrust forward again.
That was as much as he gave her. Shallow thrusts in and out, with pauses to let her suck, pauses to let her tongue his piercings. She almost made him beg for it, but there was something intoxicating about granting his silent demands. Something desperately illicit, too, about kneeling in the darkness, the only sounds their heavy breathing and his rasping groans punctuated by the lewd music of his cock working in and out of her mouth.
Another thrust, one he held for longer before retreating. "Harder. Show me what you want."
She didn't even know anymore. She'd envisioned pushing him back on the bed and straddling his legs, working him with her hands and mouth until he couldn't help but come. Easy and quick, with her in control, but maybe that had only been the lie she told herself to get out the door.
