by Cat Johnson
And no appropriate clothes I’d let her ride public transportation in. I certainly wouldn’t let her on the train looking as provocative as she did now. But I would definitely let her in my bed in that dress—or out of it.
I’d drive to the nearest decent hotel and book us a suite for the night if she’d just say the word.
“I hope Trina is home so I can get in.”
I snorted, remembering vividly her shoddy security. “Don’t worry. You’ll get in.”
She frowned briefly at what must have seemed an odd assumption on my part, before continuing, “I’m going to have to go to Angel and get my stuff out of the locker there.”
“Send Trina.”
She frowned again. “Why?”
Because I was terrified of losing her again, mostly. But there was an actual rational reason for it. “You left the embassy early, without permission. You need an excuse for your quick departure. If you send your roommate to retrieve your things with the excuse you were feeling ill and still are, it won’t look odd.”
“I also left by lying and said I’d gotten permission,” she reminded me. “What if the guard told someone?”
Ah, yes, there was that. But since I had no intention of letting Chelsea work for Angel ever again, even in a supervised undercover capacity, it didn’t matter all that much if her reputation there was burned for lying. “We’ll worry about that if and when the time comes.”
“I don’t really want Trina to know about the escort service.”
I didn’t know why Chelsea was hiding things from her roommate but I didn’t question it. Instead an even better idea came to me. “I’ll find out from Zane when Alex is back. We can ask her to go.”
Alex, the Blackwater-trained operator had bested Brent with ease—a man who far outweighed her and was a head taller. She was the perfect woman to send into Angel. I’d be interested to hear her take on the place and their tactics, actually.
As I pulled up to the curb in front of Chelsea’s building—such as it was—I turned to her. “I’m spending the night with you, so you decide if that’s going to be here, or if you’ll gather some things and come with me to a hotel room.”
Her eyes widened and I realized how my statement must have sounded.
I added, “This isn’t about sex. It’s about your safety.”
She appeared crestfallen as she said, “Oh.”
I shifted gears once again, grateful her every emotion showed on her face. “Of course, I’m not at all opposed to sex.”
I smiled. She didn’t.
“Why didn’t you get in touch with me all these months?” Her tone held less judgment and more hope, as if she wanted me to have a valid reason for the complete absence of communication.
“I’ve been asking myself that same question.”
She made a face at that, clearly showing her opinion of my non-answer. I reached out and grabbed the back of her head as I leaned in and kissed her hard.
Pulling back just far enough to speak, I said, “I thought of you. Almost every bloody day and night. Thought about touching you. And tasting you. And thought about how you had a trained spy choking on his drink with one well placed insult at the party.”
I smiled at the memory of that first night.
“I know Zane called you for help with something a few months ago. I thought maybe you’d call the office about that. Then I could say hi even if you were calling just to talk to Zane.” She shrugged and eventually raised those eyes that were the color of the sky to me.
“I wanted to call.”
“Why didn’t you?” she asked.
“Because sometimes life doesn’t let us have what we want.”
Her eyes widened and she pulled back. “Holy shit. Are you married?”
“No.” I laughed. “To my job maybe, but not to a woman. I swear.”
“Girlfriend, then?” she asked.
“No. No females in my life, except for my mum.” My complete lack of female companionship of late was just one of the reasons I’d succumbed too easily to my baser urges in the parking garage with Chelsea earlier.
She was silent for a few seconds, then she reached for the door handle as she said, “It’s okay if you stay with me tonight.”
I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. I clicked the remote to lock the doors and had to rush to catch up with her, although being behind Chelsea in that dress was an excellent place to be.
She was up the stairs and reaching for the doorknob of the flat while I was still admiring the sway of her hips and picturing my hands on them.
Swinging the door in, she said, “Good. She left the door unlocked.”
“Good?” I released a frustrated huff at her completely misguided statement and again vowed to do something about the security.
This lack of precautions had gone on far too long already. If Chelsea insisted on living in a rat hole, it was at least going to be a secure one.
Zane must have a bloke who could help. I’d pay him to get the place wired.
“Trina? You home?” she called as she walked into the living area.
There was no answer from the obviously absent roommate. My cock took notice of that fact and rose to attention as I locked the door behind me.
Chelsea turned to me. “I don’t think she’s here.”
“It appears not.” Craving privacy, I hoped Trina was out for the night.
She gestured toward what masqueraded for her bedroom. “I should change out of this dress.”
I took a step forward. “Leave it on for a little longer.”
Standing close, I circled her waist with my hands and spun her to face away from me. Tracing a path down her spine with my mouth and tongue, I felt her shudder.
She took a step forward and braced her hands against the back of the sofa in front of her.
This position I could work with. I reached around and slipped one hand beneath the fabric and found her nipple already hard.
I both loved and hated the dress for being so revealing that she wore nearly nothing beneath it. Hated it for every man who got to see her in it before me. Who got to watch this very nipple pucker beneath the fabric in the chill of the air conditioning at the embassy. Loved it because now she wore it just for me and I was going to take full advantage of that.
Rolling the pebbled tip between my fingers, I pinched her hard and heard her surprised intake of breath in response.
That was only the beginning of what I had in mind. It had been six long months that memories of Chelsea had tortured me, keeping me away from both her and any other women. But it was the twenty-four hours of worry—make that sheer terror—during which she’d been missing that had me needing to assert myself over her now.
Beneath this dress was the barest of lace covering her. I’d felt it in the car but I wanted to see it now.
I lifted the long skirt, gathering up the fabric in one fist.
The tiny strip of black lace made the alabaster of her arse look even paler. I indulged in what I’d been thinking about for hours and delivered a hard, open-palmed slap against that porcelain skin.
I was satisfied on two counts. First, by her shocked gasp. Second, by the red imprint of my hand marking her.
She twisted to look back at me. “What was that for?”
“Punishment for worrying me.”
Her brows drew low in a frown, as if she wasn’t sure how to respond. That Chelsea, who didn’t seem to lack words often, was speechless was enough to make me repeat the action.
I delivered another slap to the same spot as the first. She jumped and I waited for the complaint.
It didn’t come. When she widened her stance, spread her arms along the back of the sofa and leaned lower, offering herself up to me, I blew out a curse.
“Stay just like that. Don’t move.” My belt and trousers hit the floor. I drew my length out and rubbed it between her thighs, needing a little friction to take the edge off my need so I could take my time with the rest of this.
She was wet. She liked this. I enjoyed knowing that while stroking against the slickness but not entering her.
It was the best kind of torture. My cock enjoyed it too. I watched as I slid the slippery length forward and then up between her beautiful arse cheeks.
But they were uneven. The right side was a brilliant shade, while the left remained untouched. I delivered a slap to the left cheek and watched Chelsea’s spine bow in reaction.
Reaching between her legs, I ran a finger through the wetness. “You like this.”
“I didn’t say that.” Her denial rang hollow as I dragged my slick finger back and up between her cheeks. She drew in a breath when I reached the spot I sought and pressed just a fingertip inside. Testing, teasing, before I withdrew it.
Unmoving except for the tightening of her fists on the cushions, she waited. Good girl. For her compliance, she deserved to come.
While my slickened length pressed between her thighs, I reached around front with my hand and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves there.
I worked her with my right hand until Chelsea struggled for breath and her legs began to tremble. A slap delivered to her left bum cheek had her gasping and sinking lower against the cushion.
That changed the angle of my view. The plump and glistening pink lips between her legs peeked out at me, inviting me in. I gratefully accepted the invitation and pushed inside her.
Her orgasm hit hard and fast. I held her hips still and thrust deep, riding out the spasms squeezing my cock.
When the pulsing slowed to nearly a stop, I kept going, plunging inside. Making her mine.
Up on my toes I slid home one final time and came, bowed over her back while clinging to her with both arms.
I blew out a breath against her back when I realized I’d forgotten protection for the second time that day, and for the second time she hadn’t mentioned it. My hope was that was because she was taking precautions.
Either way, we needed to discuss the situation and now seemed as good a time as any. I needed to know if we had to worry about my careless actions and act accordingly.
Although the thought of Chelsea having my baby didn’t frighten me—and I knew it bloody well should.
I pulled out and turned her to face me. While stowing myself back inside my underpants, I said, “So we haven’t been using anything—”
“It’s okay. I’ve been on the pill for almost six months.”
Six months.
“Since right after the first time we were together.” I’d said it more to myself as my mind sought reasons for what couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Since I got good health insurance from Zane after starting my job.” Her correction brought my ego down a peg.
“Oh. Right. So it had nothing to do with us then.” I resigned myself to that fact as I began to wonder what other man she’d had in mind when she’d made the decision to begin taking birth control pills.
“No. It had everything to do with us. See what you’ve been missing by going MIA for half a damn year?” She cocked up one brow in challenge and then spun away from me. In her path toward the bathroom, she said over her shoulder, “I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
I smiled. “All right.”
Submissive one moment, and a smart-mouth the next, Chelsea challenged me like no other woman ever had.
I gathered my clothes from the floor and turned for the bedroom, envisioning what I was going to do with that smart mouth of hers the moment she joined me there.
TWELVE
“How are we going to find Morgan?” she asked, her cheek pressed against my bare chest. “She could be anywhere.”
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head as I fingered a tendril of hair resting on her shoulder. “Zane has a plan, I’m sure.”
And he had the resources to implement it, which I’d grown to appreciate more and more.
At the moment, I could give Chelsea my time and my skills—and my body—but I couldn’t offer much in the way of resources. Not while I was working completely off the radar.
I had a few contacts. Personal favors I could call in. But the vast official network I usually relied on was off limits for this case.
“Mmm, I guess.” Her comment vibrated through my chest.
I liked it, too much. I had to wrest my attention back to the topic of conversation.
She needed reassurance so she’d stop worrying and we could enjoy our time together. I needed her mouth wrapped around my cock as she hummed.
Strangely enough, both hinged on the welfare of a woman I’d never met but whose well being meant a lot to Chelsea.
“Did you ever consider that maybe—just as they did with you—the company has just kept her busy and on the move? She could be on some island at this very moment with no cell phone and no way to contact you.”
As suspect as this company’s business practices were, I had no proof they’d resort to kidnapping or murder just because someone noticed their guest list was heavy with political candidates.
Chelsea lifted her head to make eye contact with me. “Maybe, but I won’t give up until I know for sure.”
“I know.” I wrapped one arm around her and held her tighter against me.
Loyal to the end, that was Chelsea. I knew she’d be that loyal to me as well, if I’d shown I deserved it. But I didn’t deserve it.
I’d dropped out of her life for six months. And the reality was if Brent hadn’t told me she was missing, I would have gone back to London not knowing if or when I’d be back in the States without even a single word to her.
Something deep inside me twisted uncomfortably at that knowledge.
I wanted her undying loyalty and I knew I needed to earn back her trust in me to get it.
Suddenly, she sat up. The sheet fell away and I was momentarily distracted by her exposed breast—one of my favorite parts of Chelsea’s body.
“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” she asked.
I brought my attention back to her face. “I could eat.”
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t know what’s in the apartment. I’ll have to look and see. Otherwise, you good with Chinese or pizza? They’ll both deliver.”
“Either. Or both.” I laughed.
Even after nearly two years here, I was still British enough, and new enough to this country, to appreciate good pizza. It was only one of the things I’d miss.
That thought wiped the smile from my face. Even the glorious sight of Chelsea naked as she walked away to forage for food in the kitchen wasn’t going to cheer me up now I’d started thinking about how soon I’d have to leave the country, possibly for good.
I was supposed to be in London in less than a week. I still had to fly to New York and pack up my flat. How long did that leave me with Chelsea? Seventy-two hours. Ninety-six hours, maybe, if I really pushed it.
It wasn’t long enough. I needed more time.
Time to get in touch with Ivan and make sure he was all right. I wasn’t wired to completely abandon the man I’d come to know and like, or drop the search for the information leak I’d been tracking for two years.
Time to be with Chelsea. To help her find Morgan. To go on an actual date. To reassure her I wasn’t going to spend the night in her bed again and then disappear completely afterward.
She appeared in the doorway as if I’d summoned her with my thoughts.
The sight of her made my chest feel tight. She’d put on a fluffy pink robe that swallowed her up and made me want to hug her.
I was counting our time left together in hours now, so I didn’t wait. I gave in to the urge. I stood, took her into my arms and kissed her hard.
When I pulled back, she said, “Wow. What was that for?”
“For looking too adorable for words in that robe.”
“Hmm. Maybe I should wear it more often.” She smiled. “So I found a boxed pizza in the freezer. I stuck it in the toaster oven.”
“Sounds delicious.” Not at all, but I had my motiva
tions.
I could suggest we get dressed and go out, but I was feeling too selfish of our precious few days left together. I didn’t want to share Chelsea with the world.
I’d gladly eat frozen pizza if it meant I could slip beneath the robe and run my hands over her smooth, warm skin. I couldn’t do that in any restaurant that I knew of, but I did it now.
My cock standing at attention as I parted the sides of her robe and pressed close to her, I groaned at how good it felt to have her pressed naked against me.
She cocked her head to one side. “We only have fifteen minutes until the timer goes off and the pizza’s ready.”
I lifted her up and tumbled us both onto the mattress.
“I can work with that,” I said, before I closed in on her mouth.
THIRTEEN
Waking up with the sun already high in the sky and a warm female body pressed against mine was nirvana.
Heaven on earth. And a completely unfamiliar sensation to me, for so many reasons.
I glanced at the clock and saw how late it was. Even when jetlagged, I never stayed in bed this late. Of course, that could be because I didn’t usually wake next to a woman.
All-nighters had never been my thing. I’d always slip out before sunrise.
Given how good it felt waking next to Chelsea, that habit was going to change—at least for the short remainder of my time here.
Just the thought of my leaving—which was never far from my mind these days—rent my good mood in pieces and then stomped the remains of it into the ground.
Bollocks.
To let the future rob me of today would be a waste of my truly epic morning wood.
Next to me, a beautiful woman I much more than liked breathed slow and steady in sleep. She was blissfully unaware of all my inner turmoil as I lay behind her, and I wanted to keep it that way.
Chelsea slept on her side, facing away from me with her back pressed against my front.
Perfect.
Beneath the sheet, I ran one hand down her thigh, lifted and then hooked her leg over mine as I pressed my length inside her.
She moaned. The sound was soft and sleepy and sexy and made me want her even more. I thrust deeper and she expelled a breath.
