Wicked Firsts

by Naughton, Elisabeth

  The cork gave with a pop, and he reached for a flute from under the bar, poured the bubbly liquid into a glass, and handed it to her. “Drink.”

  “Aren’t you having one?” She took the glass, tried not to jump when his fingers brushed hers and electricity arced all along her skin.

  “I think you need this more than I do. I want you semi-relaxed when we head out there.” That sexy half smile quirked one side of his lips, the one that always did crazy things to her heartbeat. “So you don’t give us away.”

  Apprehension and arousal tangled in her stomach. The way he was watching her made her think he had something else planned, but she believed him when he said he was here only to help her find Melody. She had to; otherwise, she might go mad.

  Slowly, she brought the flute to her lips and took a sip. The bubbly liquid was crisp, full-flavored, and went down smooth. And God, she did need it. But not because of what she’d see out there. She’d already resigned herself to the fact she was going to see things she’d never seen before. She needed it because just being near Cade made her question every one of her resolutions where he was concerned.

  She drank half the glass before she realized he was leaning against the bar, still watching her with that amused expression. She lowered the flute. “Are you not drinking because you’re technically on duty?”

  His smile widened, brightening his eyes. “No.”

  One answer. No hint as to what it meant. Mr. Dark and Mysterious was alive and kicking tonight.

  “Don’t you drink?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “It deadens the senses.”

  There was more to that, but the way he was studying her was so penetrating, so wickedly intimate, she was afraid to ask more. Taking a sip of her champagne, she wove into the sitting area of the suite and looked out at the sparkling water. “Where’d you get that tattoo on your arm?”

  It looked like a scroll and rose, and she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The artwork was amazing.

  “A tat shop outside Vegas called Wicked Ink. The owner and I go way back.”

  Surprised, Avery glanced over her shoulder. “You know Rush Merrick? How?”

  Cade chuckled and pushed away from the bar. “Heard of him, huh? Jackass used to be a nobody, and now look at him.”

  Rush Merrick was one of the best tattoo artists in the country. His work had been featured in more than one national magazine, and several of Avery’s friends were currently on a waiting list to see him. “He does work for a number of celebrities.”

  He approached like a cat on the prowl, and Avery’s pulse picked up all over again. “When I was in Afghanistan with the military, we were on patrol one day and came across this bombed-out village. We had a few informants in that town, and the US had helped rebuild a school the Taliban had destroyed. The Taliban obviously didn’t like that.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It was.” He looked out the window, and for a moment, his eyes darkened, as if remembering back. “I’m still not sure how it happened, but one of the guys in my unit tripped a mine. Shrapnel went flying. We were lucky no one was killed, but several of us got hit. Piece of metal burned my forearm to hell. It healed but always looked like crap.”

  He turned back to face her, and when he did, the shadows were gone, making her wonder just what he’d seen and experienced overseas and how it had changed him. “So about a year later, I was home on leave in Vegas with a few buddies. One thing led to another, like it does in Vegas, and we ended up at this little tattoo shop. Merrick was the artist. He was a nobody then—just a kid—but even wasted on tequila, I could tell he had talent. We took him out with us after, got him totally shitfaced.” He smiled, looking more like the boy she remembered and not the man he’d become. “Pretty sure he doesn’t drink anymore after that night either. Whenever I want work done now, though, he’s my go-to guy.”

  He was inches from her, standing at the windows with her, and she could feel the heat rolling off him in waves. Wondered if he could feel the same heat suddenly pouring from her.

  He lifted his arm so she could see the lines and colors on his forearm. “Go on, take a look.”

  Slowly, she did, and her breath caught. Lines rolled and flowed as if on canvas. Color blended in swirls to add depth and intrigue. “It’s really beautiful.”

  She reached out to touch it, then realized what she’d been about to do and pulled back.

  “That one’s for show.” With his other arm, he pulled up his sleeve. “This one’s personal.”

  Avery’s gaze slid from tanned skin to sculpted muscle. A cross encased in a heart was surrounded by angel wings. This tattoo was bigger, starting at his shoulder and running down his bicep, and beneath the heart, three small letters were etched into his skin.

  “My mom’s initials,” he said. “This is on her tombstone.”

  Avery’s gaze jerked to his. His mother had died of cancer when he was eight. But she didn’t remember any tombstone.

  He tugged his sleeve back down, covering the intricate art and, as if reading her mind, said, “I had one placed for her after my father finally kicked it. Asshole never did anything for her. Couldn’t even fork out a few hundred bucks for a gravestone. Anyway, that heart-cross-wing thing had been on a bookmark she kept in her Bible. It was ratty and frayed, but that and the Bible were the only personal possessions she’d ever really cared about. When she died, he burned both, but I remembered, and when I had the money, I had it replicated on her headstone.”

  As he spoke, Avery was transported back in time. To when she’d known him as a teen. The misunderstood boy with the abusive father who’d lived in that small, unkempt shack and who’d had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever known. He’d told her once he’d gotten the scar protecting his mother from one of his dad’s drunken rants. And that when he’d lost her, he’d gone down the wrong road fast. Until he’d met her.

  That boy was still alive inside the man standing in front of her. And that realization made her swallow hard, because the heart she was trying so hard to protect took a hard, slow roll in her chest. “I…I’m sure she would have appreciated you did that for her.”

  That half smile returned to his lips, but this time it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know she does.”

  Present tense. She couldn’t help but be amazed that after everything he’d been through as a kid, after the horrible way his father had treated him and the things he must have seen in the military and working undercover for the FBI, that he was still a man of faith at his very core.

  His eyes narrowed before she could think of something to say in response, and he cocked his head. “You haven’t had any work done by Rush Merrick, have you?”

  Avery’s eyes flew wide. “What? Me? Of course not.”

  Turning away, she quickly downed her champagne, crossed the room, and set her glass on the bar. “Are we ready? I think we need to head to dinner.”

  Cade caught up with her in the small foyer and snagged her arm. “Hold up.”

  Avery’s breath caught.

  “You did have work done by Merrick.”

  “I most certainly did not.”

  A mischievous grin crossed Cade’s rugged features, and he took a step forward, forcing her back until her shoulders hit the wall. “What is it? And where?”

  Avery’s face burned, and inside, those butterflies flapped furiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He braced one hand on the wall near her head, leaned in so they were only centimeters apart, and trailed his finger down her cheek. Sparks of electricity ignited wherever he touched. She froze. Her stomach tightened, and a heaviness grew low in her belly.

  “I could guess. That might be more fun than having you tell me.” His finger slid down her throat, across the line of her collarbone, then lower, to the top of her cleavage. Her heart rate sped up. Her palms grew sweaty, and she braced them against the wall to keep from reaching for hi
m. “A dragonfly. Maybe a star, considering your profession.” His heated gaze rolled over her, hovered on her breasts, then slid lower to her hips. Her nipples tingled. Shot sparks of desire straight to her sex. “Must be somewhere no one can see. Somewhere private. Somewhere intimate. Oh…” He shook his head, and his grin widened. “I’m gonna have to have words with Merrick the next time I see him if he tattooed your perfect skin where I think he did.”

  Avery’s chest rose and fell with her shallow breaths. She looked up into his amused eyes, and though she was vibrating with arousal being this close to him, the memory of that tattoo, of what it stood for, brought her focus back to the forefront. “You can guess all you want, but I don’t have a tattoo. End of story.”

  His smile slowly eased, and he stared at her for several seconds in silence. Questions swirled in his eyes. Questions she didn’t want to answer. Not now, when her emotions were so close to the surface. It wasn’t just seeing him, being close to him that was throwing her off. It was remembering who he’d been. What they’d shared. And what they’d created.

  “Are we going to dinner so we can try to find my friend,” she asked, “or not?”

  Slowly, he straightened, but the humor faded from his features, revealing the serious, dark, and dangerous man she’d encountered at Aegis.

  She ducked under his arm and reached for her clutch from the front table. Refused to acknowledge she was shaking. Maybe dealing with Mr. Dark and Dangerous was better than Mr. Smart-ass. Mr. Smart-ass would only remind her of the past, and that was a road she didn’t want to travel again. Mr. Dark and Dangerous she could easily keep at arm’s length.

  “Well?” She steeled her nerves and turned to face him.

  Slipping a hand into the front pocket of his slacks, he walked toward her, all long-legged grace and predatory movements. “Eager again. I’m starting to think you’re hiding something.”

  He opened the door and waited. On a deep breath, Avery turned and walked ahead of him. And told herself what she was hiding would never matter to him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dinner was anything but romantic. Or sexy. Or erotic. Not that Cade expected all three, but any one would have been a nice treat.

  He lifted his water glass, took a sip, and eyed Avery over the edge. She’d barely made eye contact the entire hour they’d been in the Italian restaurant on site. For the most part, the place was quaint—way more Venetian than Jamaican—and the food was good. Though Avery wouldn’t know. She’d barely touched her pasta. She was definitely giving him the cold shoulder since their moment in the suite, and though every signal she was throwing screamed back off, Cade felt like doing anything but.

  Seated in a back booth, Cade eyed the patrons around them while he and Avery ate. The majority of tables were filled with couples out for a romantic dinner, just like them, though a few had partnered up into fours and sixes. After the server took their dishes away, he leaned forward and said, “Did Melody mention anyone specific in your phone call? A staff member who stood out to her or even a guest?”

  Avery lifted her head and quirked one eyebrow behind the tortoiseshell glasses in a sexy little move that supercharged his blood. “A guest? She was here weeks ago. Any guest who was here then is long gone.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Avery’s gaze slid to the side, and slowly, she glanced around the restaurant. She stopped when she caught sight of a man seated in the shadows alone. “I vaguely recognize him.” Her brow wrinkled. “Why do I recognize him?”

  “He was in the lobby when we checked in. Sitting near the fountain. He definitely noticed you then, just as he’s doing now.”

  Cade guessed the guy was in his fifties, but from here it was hard to tell. His hair was dark, the skin wrinkled around his eyes, and the predatory way he kept watching Avery didn’t sit well with Cade.

  “I don’t remember him.”

  “I doubted you would. You were too busy shooting daggers into Patrice’s spine.”

  Her gaze snapped his way. “I was not.”

  Cade chuckled. Oh yeah, he’d been right. He’d gotten way under her skin. “Come on, admit it. You didn’t like that she offered to be my beck-and-call girl.”

  Something dark flashed in Avery’s eyes, but Cade couldn’t read her thoughts. “I didn’t realize we were here solely for your fun.”

  Red flags went up. She was speaking loudly enough for people to hear them. He worked up a smile and reached for her hand. “Sweetheart, we’re here for all kinds of fun.”

  Her jaw clenched, and she jerked her hand from his, then dropped her napkin on the table and pushed to her feet. “Then don’t let me stand in your way. By all means, beck and call all you want.”

  She turned to leave. Voices quieted in the restaurant, and heads swiveled their way. One look and Cade realized they were about to lose their cover.

  He surged to his feet, caught her fingers in his own, and whipped her toward him. One hand snagged her around the waist; the other slid into the silky hair across her scalp. Startled, Avery’s mouth dropped open, but he pulled her close, then lowered his lips to hers before she could protest.

  Soft. Sweet. Perfect. Just like he remembered from the plane. Only this time the kiss was filled with fire and an animosity that went deeper than he expected. This wasn’t acting. Something was bugging her. Something more than just that employee’s harmless flirting.

  He swept his tongue along hers, felt her body stiffen against his and then still. One hand curled into talons in the shirt against his chest; the other fell near his hip. He kissed her deeply, not letting her get away, knew he was walking a fine line but didn’t care. Twelve years ago, he’d been a stupid kid, but after a full day together, she should be able to tell he wasn’t the same person he’d been then. That things had changed. That he had changed. Couldn’t she see she was the only woman here he had eyes for? Where did the anger come from? And why couldn’t she seem to let it go?

  He changed the angle of the kiss, kissed her deeper, slower, and not just for show. Her scent made him lightheaded. The heat radiating from her skin reminded him what it felt like to be wrapped tight in her body. He wanted to reach her on a completely different level. Wanted to know if what she was hiding was truly anger or something deeper. Something more real. Something that would give him a hint as to whether or not there was anything left between them. And he needed to know. Craved it more than air. If there was still a chance for them…

  Glass clinking and silverware clacking brought him back around. Remembering where they were, he loosened his hold, gentled the kiss, started to pull back. But the moment his lips lifted from hers, she groaned, stepped into him, and lifted her mouth to his all over again.

  Yes. Yes, yes, yes… He clasped both sides of her face and dipped inside for another sinfully wicked taste. She answered by moaning and tangling her tongue with his in a kiss that left him breathless.

  Time seemed to stand still. The restaurant went silent. It was as if they were the only two people for miles. Her fingers relaxed their grip on his shirt, spread, and then flexed as if pulling him in. Their tongues licked and twisted—a wild mating of warmth and wetness and desire. His hands slid from her face to her shoulders, then down her sides and around her back. She groaned again and rocked her hips into his. Against her belly, he grew hard and thick, and visions of dragging her back to their room, of ravishing her on that giant bed, filled his mind, overpowering everything else.

  Someone coughed. Whispers and muffled laughter met his ears. The restaurant, the people around him, where they were came back full force. As did why they were here. And what had originally caused him to keep her from running away in the first place.

  Reluctantly, he dragged his lips from hers, wrapped his arms around her, and caught her just as she swayed. Her eyes were shut, her body limp against his, but her fast and erratic pulse told him she was just as turned on as he.

  “Easy,” he whispered in her ear.

  As if his voice had flipped
some switch, she tensed against him.

  Cade’s heart raced, but he held her close. “Everyone’s watching.”

  Her entire body froze. He sensed her looking around without moving her head. Then, on a groan, she buried her face against his shoulder and fisted his shirt at his back.

  Clapping erupted from the restaurant, followed by hoots and hollers and a male voice cheering, “That’s the way to get her back in line, sonny!”

  Avery jerked back, and, realizing she could blow it again, Cade whispered, “Ignore him.” Though a tiny part of him wanted to shut her up again. Kissing was the best way to get her to stop thinking. And when she turned off that gorgeous brain of hers, she let him in. Even if only for a moment.

  Looking out toward the patrons, he smiled and rolled his eyes while he cradled her against his chest. Laughter echoed through the room, then slowly died off as people went back to their food and conversations.

  When normal sound resumed, Avery slowly eased away and looked up. “Okay, point taken.” She glanced around the restaurant. “The guy in the corner is gone. Can we go now?”

  Cade’s gaze traveled toward the entrance where the man in the shadows had been sitting. His table was indeed empty. He’d left sometime during their kiss, not that Cade cared.

  He let go of her but reached for her hand, keeping them carefully connected. “What do you have in mind?”

  Her eyes narrowed, but this time there was no anger in the look, just a playful glint that sent a wicked shot of desire through his blood. “Not that. Get your head out of the gutter, Mr. Black.” She drew a breath. “How about we get a drink and check out the dance club. I know Melody went there.”

  She was trying to be all business, but Cade sensed the unease lurking beneath the surface. Her normally amber eyes were a soft, mottled green thanks to the colored contacts she wore, but they were the same eyes he’d fantasized about for far too long. The same eyes that tormented him from magazine spreads and still ruined his movie-viewing hours. The same eyes he wanted to see peering up at him as they once had: full of warmth, desire, and love.