Renegade's Run
Page 8
Or maybe, he was remembering Tim and how Sarah had spent the night they broke up crying in Steven’s arms. She had dated Tim for a year in college, had been sharing his bed for more than six months. Sarah had been confident of Tim’s feelings for her, so confident that she told him about her family.
He had walked out on her that same night. His love for her wasn’t nearly as strong as his love of a future political career. While the daughter of a writer and a doctor and granddaughter of a cop and a lawyer would make a fine political wife, he couldn’t afford to be compromised by people believing him controlled by the Randalls.
Steven came to sit beside her, wrapping her in his arms as he had after each of those disastrous breakups. “You’ll have to tell him eventually.”
“I know.” Not soon. Please not soon. “Don’t sic Mac on me. Please, Steven.”
“You know me better than that.”
*
Jonas shifted nervously and pushed the buzzer for Sarah’s apartment. There was something liberating in knowing he’d recorded his resignation. It was meaningless. He hadn’t even filed it, but he knew that Griffin would be his last job.
Only the threat to Sarah kept him from filing now. What could they do? He wouldn’t put hurting her past them. Not after the scam with the renegade, but how would hurting Sarah benefit them?
They couldn’t take her. Well, they could, but where could they possibly hide her? Her prints or picture would pull up her file. Even the DoPT had laws governing them. Jonas was that law. If Baker did something illegal against her—something more than he already had with the renegade, Jonas was the only legal protection Sarah had.
Markham was making discreet inquiries into the master plan, but either no one knew or no one was talking. In the meantime, Jonas resolved to strengthen what he had with Sarah. In the end, he hoped that would be the one thing he had left.
The door buzzed for him, and Jonas wondered at the fact that Sarah didn’t ask who it was. A chilling thought occurred to him as he pulled the door open. What if a shield wasn’t all she had?
He knew for a fact that Sarah could test his shield, that she could at least see if he had one. Baker said that they weren’t really sure what her talents were. All they knew for certain was that she’d never used an active class around them, but what about passive classes? If she read his mind, it was over.
Jonas forced himself up the stairs. He’d never worried about a renegade seeing through him, even when he was an adult-looking seventeen-year-old being served mock alcohol in dockside bars. He didn’t want to examine his reasons for being afraid she’d see through him too closely. If Markham was right and Jonas was in love with her—
She could be used against me. They wanted to use Sarah against her family. One hint of a serious involvement on his part, and Baker could use her against him too. He pushed the apartment door open, still lost in thought.
“In here,” Sarah called.
Jonas turned from the kitchen and went back to the living room. His confusion melted into a raging need. The room was lit by a dozen candles. Dinner plates and covered platters were laid on the coffee table, and cushions were spread on the floor for them to sit on.
Sarah’s arms wrapped around him and her breasts pressed to his back. Jonas groaned as she started peeling his shirt up his torso, his back wonderfully alive to the feeling of lace and velvet.
“Sarah, if you do this, dinner will be cold before we eat.”
She nipped his shoulder as she dropped his T-shirt to the floor. “It’s meant to be cold. I knew hot food would be a mistake.”
“Why?” He ran his hands behind him to investigate the outfit she wore, learning the teddy by Braille.
Sarah unsnapped his jeans. “I knew it would just get cold before we got to it.”
Jonas turned in her arms, sweeping her to the cushions. He ran his palms up the velvet over her stomach to the lace covering her breasts. “Will we ever have a hot dinner again?”
Her laugh was husky and inviting. “Only if you show up early while it cooks.”
Jonas smiled. “I’d have to make love to you in the kitchen so we can make sure it doesn’t burn,” he warned.
Sarah’s eyes darkened. “Any time.”
Chapter Four
April 5th
Sarah wound her fingers in the curls on Jonas’ chest. He groaned in response, and she felt him harden against her thigh. The last five weeks had done nothing but intensify his reaction to her touch.
Jonas spent most nights with her now. She saw him every evening after work and most mornings until he left for work. In fact, there hadn’t been a single day she hadn’t seen him since Jonas showed up at the store with the offer of dinner.
He had a key now. Sarah had never trusted a man enough to give him a key to her apartment, but the payoff was worth it. Coming home to a meal and Jonas was well worth the risk of that key.
Sarah pulled Jonas toward her in invitation. He kissed her, his mouth and hands urgent this time. Sometimes, Jonas was a slow, tender lover, but even when his actions were demanding, he was thorough, single-minded in his approach to making love to her.
She dreaded what she had to do. Steven had gotten demanding in the last week, and her family was picking up on the tension between them over family dinners. Sarah had to ask Jonas to dinner with them soon. That meant telling him who her family was. She had to do it now, before he made love to her again and captured more of her heart.
“Jonas?”
He continued his exploration of the spot behind her ear, his voice rumbling against her. “Yes?”
“I have to talk to you.”
He moved his attention to her breast. “Talk,” he invited her.
Sarah sighed and ran her hand over his shoulder. “No, I need to talk to you. For a few minutes.”
Jonas looked up at her with questioning eyes. He nodded and distanced himself on the bed. “I’m sorry. Please.” He motioned for her to continue.
She took a deep breath to steel her resolve. She had to do this. “Would you have dinner with my family this Sunday?”
He smiled. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, that’s what I need to talk to you about.” Sarah hesitated, hoping he was really as different from every other guy she’d ever met as he seemed. “Do you know who Katie— Who Katheryn, Steven, and Alex Randall are? Who Kyle Thompson is?”
“Yes. Doesn’t everyone? How could you live in this city and be older than fifteen and not know?”
Sarah blushed. This is going badly. “Jonas, I—”
He ran his knuckles over her cheek. “Sarah, I met Steven the first night, remember?”
She buried her forehead in her hand. “Oh, no.” How could she be so stupid? Most people would recognize Steven on sight.
“Did you honestly think I didn’t know who he was? Why do you think I was afraid to leave you with him in his state of mind?”
Sarah pulled away, suddenly unsure. “You knew all this time?” Was he another David?
“Of course. If I cared about that, would I have come back? If it bothered me, I could have walked away.”
She wished she could read him better. Jonas seemed sincere. He definitely wasn’t a Tim, but he could still be pulling a David on her.
“Why did you come back?”
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He pulled Sarah into his lap, nestling her to the proof of his arousal. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you. Why would your family make any difference to that?”
Sarah blushed and looked away, unwilling to voice all the ways it could make a difference.
Jonas cupped her face back to his, trying to catch her eyes. “Oh, God. Please tell me some idiot wasn’t that stupid.”
She shrugged, trying to adopt an indifferent look. “Some men are stupid.”
“Did he have sex with you because of who your family is or leave you because of it?”
Sarah bit back tears. So much for indifferent. “T
hey—” She shook her head.
Jonas’ face went crimson. She could feel his outrage clearly through his shield.
“Men? They? Sarah, please tell me.”
“I haven’t had much luck with men, Jonas. I’d about given up hope that there was an honest man in the world that wasn’t related to me.”
He stroked her face. “Which extreme am I fighting?”
“Both. I think you’ve proven one wrong.” She managed a weak smile. “After all, you came back.”
“Would you let me prove the other one wrong?”
“How?”
Jonas laid her back, lifting her hips. His eyes burned with a fierce determination as he took her clit in his mouth, trapping it between his tongue and teeth, nipping and soothing it.
Sarah reached for his head, but Jonas swept her hands to her stomach, clamped in his free hand. She whimpered as he laid a kiss on the sensitive bundle of nerves and traced the seam of her labia with his tongue.
He groaned into her as Sarah wrapped her ankles over his shoulders and her personal lubricant flowed over his questing tongue. Jonas raised his head, raining hot panting breaths on the engorged area between her thighs.
His hand tightened around her wrists, just the slightest increase in pressure. “Don’t move.” He issued the order then moved his hand away, keeping her pinned with his eyes. Jonas pulled the two pillows from his side of the bed under her and eased her down onto them.
“Jonas?”
“Comfortable?” he asked, drawing his finger along the same line his tongue had explored moments before.
Sarah nodded, unable to form words as his arm and back muscles rippled beneath her legs. She shivered at the feeling of his lips on the inside of her thigh. He kissed and blew little puffs of air over her sensitive flesh up the few inches back to her core.
His tongue returned to the seam, darting just inside before teasing her again. Sarah tightened her legs around him, needing more, but Jonas tortured her with the promise of what she wanted most. She reached for him, and he returned one hand to holding her still for his intimate ambush.
Jonas laid a kiss on her thigh. “You want more?”
“Jonas.” She pleaded with him, pulling herself closer to his mouth.
He braced her hips. “More?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Tell me when you’re convinced.”
“What? Jonas, what do you—”
“Why am I here, Sarah? Tell me that, and I’ll prove it.”
“I don’t—” She sucked in her breath as he returned to his teasing. Sarah squirmed beneath the assault, trying to think clearly. “Me.”
Jonas stilled, raising his head until he met her eyes. “Tell me.”
“You want me. Not my family. Me.”
He shook his head. “Not good enough.”
“You’re not in bed with me for my family one way or the other.”
“Not good enough.” Jonas lowered his mouth.
Sarah cried out in frustration. Why wasn’t it good enough?
He kept her on the edges of orgasm, pulling back just enough to keep her from completion. It was maddening, but still she felt—
“Love.”
In the silence after her whisper, she heard his breathing hitch. “Say it.”
“You’re here because you love me?” Jonas hadn’t said it, but had there ever been any doubt? She hadn’t said it either.
“Do I?”
Sarah floundered. “Don’t you?”
“Let me know when you’re sure.” Jonas released her hands and buried his tongue in her, driving her body up to the edge and sending her into a shattering free fall of pleasure.
When she screamed his name, Jonas pulled the pillows away, cushioning her as she fell and unwinding her legs to push her knees up and out as he rose up over her. The tip of him, already covered in Plastilyte, pressed to her. Sarah pressed back, trying to force the heat of him into her.
“Are you sure, Sarah?”
“You love me.”
He watched her, his eyes intense.
“I love you, Jonas.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
His face erupted in a wide smile, which morphed into an exquisite expression of pleasure and pain as he eased into her little by little, each thrust taking more of her. His pace was agonizingly slow, drawing out to the barest possession of her and sliding back to claim her again. Sarah dug her fingers into his shoulders, searching for an anchor in the storm raging through her body.
Jonas nipped at her ear. “That’s right. Show me, Sarah. Show me what I do to you.”
Her entire body was alive and aware of him. Sarah felt each individual hair that rasped past her aching nipples. She felt each play of muscles beneath her fingertips and against her stomach and legs. Jonas braced her knees up further, pushing deeper with the movement. Sarah felt her nails bite skin. She started to pull back, but Jonas groaned in pleasure.
“Yes. Show me, Sarah.”
His deeper thrusts had Sarah thrashing her head back and forth and urging him on with helpless little sounds of pleasure that she didn’t seem able to control. None of her reactions were under her control.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked weakly.
Jonas met her eyes, hopelessly lost in his own enjoyment. “I’m making love to you. No one’s ever done this for you before. Please tell me.”
Sarah swallowed a whimper as he changed position slightly. She’d never felt anything like this before. “No. Only you.” She had no doubts that no one else ever would touch her like this again.
“Forever.”
He pushed fully inside her, freezing at the pinnacle and roaring out his release. His come scalded her through the Plastilyte between them. She loved the feeling of his heat inside her. Sarah wondered how it would feel to have all of him, his uncovered length and that searing release touching her, finding places he couldn’t reach even as deep in her as he was now.
Jonas pulled Sarah to him, cradling her head to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he breathed.
Sarah tensed in his embrace, spasming as she joined him. Her mind wouldn’t seem to work. Everything was feeling. His hands, him inside her, and his weight on her were Sarah’s only anchors, and the endless waves of sensation sought to drag her from those anchors. She gulped in air between waves, her mind struggling to piece together his final words. Sorry for what? There was absolutely nothing Sarah could see that he did wrong.
He kissed her, meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t wait for you.”
She bit her lip. He was hiding something. Why was he hiding something? “No. There’s more.”
Jonas blushed. “I’m sorry that no one’s ever made love to you before.”
Sarah felt a twisting knot in her stomach. “Has anyone made love to you before?” She didn’t ask him if he’d made love to anyone else. She knew from experience that you could pour your soul into a relationship and have it shortchanged on the other end.
“No.”
She nodded. Sarah had expected that answer. “Then I’m sorry.”
Jonas shook his head. “Don’t be. It wasn’t the same. Those men—” He sighed. “You thought there could be more than there was, didn’t you?”
Sarah nodded.
His eyes softened as he touched her cheek. “With me, there were no lies. It was just sex, and everyone knew it was just sex.”
“Sounds lonely.”
“It was, but no one got hurt.”
Sarah nodded. “So, you’ll come to dinner?”
Jonas chuckled. “I said I would.”
“You’re not worried about meeting the Randalls?”
“I’ll wear my E-shield.”
“Do you have a gun?”
Jonas looked at her in shock. “Do I need one?”
Sarah shrugged. “Maybe. If I’m bringing a man to dinner, my uncles will show up for sure. They’re a little protective, and they tend to carry guns.” She bit back a smile, int
ending to tell Jonas that it was an exaggeration—in a minute.
He swallowed hard then nodded. “Thanks for the warning, but I think you’re joking.” Jonas hoped she was joking. That much was written in his mind.
She nodded to put him at ease.
*
Jonas pounded on Markham’s door, ready to break it down if Evan wasn’t quick enough about answering. Evan raised an eyebrow at his state of mind as he swung the door open and motioned him in.
Jonas pushed past him. “Were they DoPT? Were they set up?”
“Who?”
“The men in her past. I’d guess the one who left her wasn’t. What about the ones who screwed her because—”
Jonas rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. It was easier to face the rage. It was easier, because his alternative was facing the fact that he was sleeping with Sarah as part of a plot to set her up somehow. Jonas was no better. He was sleeping with her because of who her family was despite the fact that his feelings went deeper and his motives seemed more pure in the beginning. How could Jonas ever have believed that he was doing this only to keep her safe? He wanted Sarah, he loved her, and he compromised her to get her. He should have run the other way rather than sleep with her. How was this showing her love?
Evan flipped open his pocket PC and loaded up Sarah’s file. “According to this, you’re the first DoPT agent who’s been allowed anywhere near her.”
Jonas sank into the couch, sighing in relief. “Thank God.” The thought of Pendle or Peterson touching her was like a knife in his gut.
Evan shook his head. “Can I sign off or do you need something else?”
“Yes. No. Why do I need a gun to meet her uncles? I was so shocked, I forgot to ask. I mean, I know they’re protective, but who are these guys? Are they trained professionals or just well-meaning uncles?”
“Sarah doesn’t have uncles. Even Katheryn and Keith have no uncles. Only child syndrome or, in Katheryn’s case, one of two sisters and the husband died a long time ago. Damned if I know what she’s talking about.”