Susannah continued to ride him, and he continued to thrust deeply inside her until she came, screaming and shuddering with her climax. Then she removed the makeshift blindfold and looked into his eyes. “Sorry. I couldn’t control myself.” Her pupils were dilated and her lashes were wet. Before he could say anything she kissed him, and it felt as though she were completely giving herself over to him. Chas thought he might explode into a million pieces if he didn’t get to have his way with her. Using all his strength of will, he gently slid out of her, and using all his strength of body he lifted her up out of the water. Still kissing, and emotionally engaging more and more deeply by the minute, he got them out of the tub and into the bedroom, where he laid her gently on the bed. He smoothed her hair out of her eyes, and ran his hand down her cheek.
“Susannah,” he breathed, “you are the most stunning woman I have ever known. The day you came after me was one of the luckiest days of my life.” Then he reached next to the bed for a condom, tore the packet open, and rolled it on. He entered her again, slowly this time, never disconnecting from her gaze, holding her in his arms. He pulled all the way out and entered her again, as slowly as he was able, until her breathing shifted, and she began to moan again.
“Oh, Chas, yes,” she murmured as he gently rocked in and out of her. When she closed her eyes, he said, “Stay with me, sweetheart. I want to see exactly what I’m doing to you.”
“You’re completely killing me,” she gasped as he pulled out again.
“Well,” he replied, barely able to get the words out, “that makes two of us.”
Then he picked up speed, and finding a rhythm, he rocked her to a second climax as he growled in pleasure and joined with a final sweet release of his own.
They lay panting, arms and legs around each other for a time. Then Susannah spoke. “Not bad, Tex. Not disappointing. Not at all.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a smile, rolling off her, “and I’m only getting started. Like something to eat?”
“Love it,” she responded, not realizing how hungry she was. “Should we order room service?”
“Oh, no, I’ve taken care of it,” he said. “What say we jump back in the tub for a moment, and then dine on the balcony?”
Susannah smiled an assent and looked at his flushed and excited face. This was a night to remember, indeed. She only wished it could last a little bit longer. But that was not to be. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she kissed him on the lips and said, “Race you, cowboy. First one in gets to be fucked like crazy.”
‡‡‡
JACKSON WALKED BACK INTO Le Bar and over to Lisa Bee’s table. They were now bordered on both sides by parties of gendarmes, French policemen who were trying to be undercover in a way that was incredibly unslick. The gendarmes all wore jeans and blue T-shirts, which made them look like they were still in uniform, or like they were guys from a local sports league out for a nightcap who just happened to drop in to the most exclusive hotel in Paris. Lisa looked up at Jackson, who was scowling at the gendarmes, and waited for his update. Again their eyes caught, and the burning look he gave her made her need to defuse the tension with a joke. It was probably just the mission that was fraying their nerves anyway. Right? She glanced down at his pocket. “Well?” she chirped, a bit buzzed by now. “Is that a hot dog in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
“Both,” he replied with a smile. “I believe it’s called a double-decker.”
Lisa Bee broke out in a full-fledged laugh. “Got what we needed? How’s our girl?”
“Sounds like she’s having another Christmas bonus. I’m sure the Boss’ll be pleased.”
“Oh, indeed he is,” said the Boss loudly, striding across the room. “He’s had a fantastic afternoon in the hands of the Police Nationale and is just thrilled to be able to do his job.”
“Wow,” said Jackson, “you don’t look so hot.”
The Boss was in a rumpled, untucked button-down and jeans and his hair looked matted. But more than that, he seemed to have lost his customary cool. A thin sheen of sweat coated his face, and he wore an unmoving grimace. “It has been a peach of a time, Team FTP. I was interrogated by some idiots all afternoon, and they kept me, yes, handcuffed to a chair for all of it. It wasn’t until Fritz called that I was let go. But you know how that makes me feel. Like a fucking douche bag.”
Fritz was their contact at the FBI, the one who consistently gave them the cases that couldn’t be cracked. He was their biggest and best source for leads, and the Boss considered him their main employer because of it. If Fritz became concerned about their abilities, it could seriously jeopardize all of their jobs. The Boss hated when Fritz was alerted. It always made him feel like a little kid being called into the principal’s office. And it was the one thing that made him fear the loss of all he had built.
“So?” Lisa Bee asked. “What happened?”
“I told Fritz everything we had up to now,” the Boss said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “He told me to keep on it. But he also told me that if we come up empty-handed . . .”
“We’re done?” asked Jackson.
“Righto. Now pour me a shot before the Bee drinks the whole damn bottle. And let’s see what we’ve got.”
“Okay,” Jackson said, getting down to business and connecting the two pieces. “Dog is in the bun, baby. Let’s get these fuckers.”
‡‡‡
SUSANNAH AND CHAS had made love on every balcony of the penthouse suite and were just settling down to dinner. They were in robes, courtesy of the Hotel George V, and were both sporting huge smiles on their faces. Susannah had never met anyone who could keep up with her in the bedroom. Neither had Chas.
They were sitting on the main balcony, the one that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. Chas had arranged a beautiful five-course meal and they were currently on course number two, a delectable chilled vichyssoise, that followed a mouthwatering appetizer of oysters on the half shell. Susannah had been told that oysters were an aphrodisiac. Lord knew neither of them needed one. But the oysters were still delicious and were paired perfectly with a crisp champagne.
“Mmmm,” Susannah murmured, “this whole night has been so delicious.”
“Yes,” Chas agreed. “I just can’t seem to get enough.”
They paused for a minute, taking in the twinkling lights of the Paris skyline, the freshness of the air, and the sizzling sparkle between them. “You know,” Chas said, “I set this up so that we could have an intermission, so to speak, in the middle of the evening. Want to have a bit of a lie-down? We could take a nap, and finish eating later, if you like.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said. “I was hoping for at least a bit of pillow talk.”
“Well,” he said, “just wait till you see what I have planned for you tomorrow morning.”
Susannah forced a smile and got up to go to the bedroom. She was feeling really guilty now and was itching with anticipation. How did this thing work, anyway? Would he just keel over in the midst of course three? Was there any kind of warning? She smoothly slid her robe off on the balcony, letting it drop behind her as she walked. Then she found her way to the bed and slipped into the sumptuous sheets. Chas was right behind her and slipped in as well, wrapping her body in his as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Susannah relaxed into his hold with a deep sigh. She had never been intimate quite like this, and it had never felt so comfortable before. He nuzzled her neck, and spoke gently into her ear. “I’ve really enjoyed being with you, Legs. All of you. I’d like it to happen more.”
She was grateful he couldn’t see her face or hear her thoughts. She was enjoying his touch with every fiber of her being but knew she was betraying him every moment they lay together. “I’d like it too,” she said. And after a moment, she continued. “I’d love to hear more about your life, Chas.”
“Tel
l me something about you first. I love to hear you speak.”
Susannah blushed. She was flattered that he’d say that. “Um, well,” she began, “I grew up in Virginia. I used to ride horses a lot as a girl, went to horse camp, had a particular horse I’d groom every year. It’s one of the things I loved the most growing up.”
“Well, you’ll have to come down to the Savannah ranch. We’ve got a pretty full stable at the moment. Five or six last I checked—we had a loan mare for breeding, so I guess there’ll be at least one more soon. I love to ride! Have since I was a kid. One of the most . . .”
“Peaceful things on earth.” She finished for him.
There was a moment of blissful silence. Susannah wished it could last forever. She was feeling, just at this moment, like she belonged in his arms, in his bed, in his life. Was it just the romance of the evening? she wondered. Then he spoke. “You know,” he said slowly, “I never really knew my father. He didn’t speak much, not to me anyway, and he died before I got old enough to really talk to him.”
“I feel the same way about mine,” she replied. “Though I know it’s different for men. I bet you miss getting to know him.”
“I do,” he said. “It has marked a lot of my life, I think, that particular loneliness. Missing something so important that I never had the privilege to experience. I’ve often wondered how I would have turned out—how my life might have been different if he’d been around.”
There was a pause, and again, Susannah couldn’t believe, or understand, how she felt so at home, so at peace, in the arms of a man she was about to destroy.
“Today,” Chas said hesitantly, “I was brought some information by the operative you saw me speaking with. I don’t want to give you her name, but basically she’s an old contact of my father’s, and she was supposed to kill the head of the organization I’ve infiltrated. We call him the Italian, the man who runs this ring. It’s ridiculous, I know, but that’s what he goes by. . . . But, I shouldn’t’ve told you that . . . or any of this really. . . .”
Chas was starting to slur his words a bit, and chatter a bit more than Susannah was used to. She realized it was the drug taking effect, but she let him go on, hoping for more information while treasuring the time they got to spend together.
“Today,” he said, “she told me something my father had wanted her to pass on . . . and it’s been with me all day. . . . My dad never spoke a whole lot, and he wasn’t particularly sentimental. . . .”
“What did he tell her, Chas?” Susannah asked gently, turning to look at him.
“Well, he wanted me to have something apparently, and he hid it and said something about being proud of me and that he wanted me to find a lady to love, a bride who can weather all that I am. . . . She said he was being very specific. . . .” Chas was sounding more and more disjointed, and he looked like he was having a hard time focusing his gaze.
“Sorry,” he continued, looking confused, his eyes beginning to close. “I can’t keep my eyes open. Something—I don’t know what’s—I think I’m going to—”
“Oh, Chas,” Susannah said softly. “I am so so sorry this has to end this way.”
There was a brief grasp of understanding in his eyes, a moment of shock. And then he was out.
Susannah burst into tears. She had completely fallen for this man, and now she would be his undoing. It simply wasn’t fair. She finally met the man of her dreams and he was on the FBI’s most wanted list. How much worse could it get?
She rapidly collected her things, threw her dress back on, and grabbed her purse. Just before she got in the elevator, she remembered the Celtic “family tree” and stopped in her tracks. Walking back to the bedroom, she saw it on the nightstand and put it on. If nothing else, she wanted him to know that his offering meant something, and that she had accepted the gift he wished to bestow upon her. And also, she wanted a part of him with her. If he wanted it back? Well, he’d have to come get it, that was all. She took one last look at him on the bed, smoothed his hair, and pulled the covers over him. He’d wake up in about five hours with the worst hangover imaginable, but that would be the only damage. It would give FTP enough time to get the information they needed, surprise the criminal network before Chas could alert them, and make their arrests, leaving a shattered crime ring in their wake.
Finding her way back to the elevator, she checked her cell phone. She had a single text from Bossman with a single word in it:
Casablanca
Shit. A code 5. Dialing his number, she was relieved when he picked up on barely the first ring.
“Legs?” the Boss said, panic in his voice. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, “he just knocked off. What’s with the code 5?”
“Get your ass down here, now.”
“On my way. But what’s the problem? He’s out. Is it one of the others?”
“It’s not that. It’s you, honey. Oh god . . .” Bossman seemed to be choking on his words.
“What is it, John?” she said, real fear in her voice now.
“It’s something we got from his phone. He was recording all his conversations. Susannah . . .”
“Just spit it out.”
“He broke your cover. But what’s worse than that? He called you a whore, Legs. And a joke. He smeared your rep. And it’s about to go public. I have to get you on the first flight out of here, or the entire operation will be compromised. And, oh shit . . .” He paused again. She thought she heard the sound of Lisa Bee screaming in the background. “Susannah . . . I have to fire you. Effective immediately. Get down here, so we can get you the hell out.”
And just like that, it happened. It went up in smoke. All possibility of a happy ending lay in scattered shards at her feet. The man she thought she loved, that she feared she had betrayed, had betrayed her far worse than she could have imagined. He broke her cover? That put her in grave danger anytime she was overseas—so she would never be able to travel again. And frankly, it eliminated the possibility of 90 percent of the work she loved to do stateside. And he called her a joke? This hurt more than anything else she could imagine.
So her cover was blown. And she would become a joke. Could she work in the office like Lisa Bee, or learn more about hacking from AJ, or work another job entirely? Sure. But undercover work was her passion, her career. When she was a little girl, she loved spy stories, and games involving secrets. As a young adult she had devoured autobiographies of undercover agents, fantasizing about a life of disguise. And when her father died she knew that criminology would be a huge part of her life. When she made that her major in college, she knew she was on the right track. And now the man she had let inside her had ruined any possibility that she might continue to pursue the path she loved. Swallowing the bile in her throat and the rage in her guts, she decided to ignore the break in her heart. Summoning up all the courage she had left, she got on the elevator and went down to meet her fate.
9
SUSANNAH PULLED UP in front of her mom’s house in Alexandria, Virginia, with lines of mascara running down her face. She’d been crying for the past day as she flew in from Paris, packed up her DC apartment, and made her way back home. Lisa Bee promised to clean out her desk, since for security reasons they couldn’t have her anywhere near the office. It hadn’t made it any better that she wound up smeared on the front page of the tabloids with headlines like “What an International Whore Looks Like” and “Selling It to the Highest Bidder.” She didn’t even understand what had been leaked and what the stories were about—they were so convoluted and seemed to portray her as an international call girl, not an undercover agent. Regardless, she’d had to wear dark sunglasses and a wig just to walk around her neighborhood. She hadn’t told her mom much about the situation. After all, it was better to keep it under wraps, and her mom never knew the half of it to begin with. She just told her that she’d been fired and would need a place
to stay for a bit. Her mom was only too happy to have her come home.
Janice Carter was waiting on the porch when Susannah pulled up in the old yellow VW bug. She had always wanted Susannah to drive a sleeker, safer car, but Susannah had fallen in love with that old sweet car. At least it wasn’t one of those sports cars Susannah always mooned over. Janice was a beautiful woman, and her fifty-five years had aged her in just the right ways. She had light blonde hair, a beautiful smile, and eyes like a hawk. She always wore cardigans, no matter what season, and with her curvy body she looked like something out of Mad Men. Today the cardigan was yellow, worn over a rust-colored blouse, with stunning 1950s-style jewelry to match. Janice owned a small accessories store in town and had made a name for herself in unusual knickknacks and rare gifts.
She was also an exceptional baker and always had treats on hand at the store. Today, she had made peanut butter brownies, Susannah’s favorite, as well as strawberry lemonade, and she was eagerly waiting to give her little girl the comfort she deserved. Janice suspected there was more going on here than Susannah had told her. And she suspected a man was involved. This could be the only reason for such a dramatic exit.
Susannah walked up to the porch of the beautiful old clapboard house and into her mother’s arms, and she wept, no longer able to keep it together. Janice embraced her, and lovingly soothed back her hair. “Now, now,” she said, “surely it can’t be all bad.”
“Oh, Mom.” Susannah sniffled. “It’s far worse than that.”
“Want to tell me about it? I made your favorite.”
Game On (The Bod Squad Series Book 1) Page 10
