by Dana Volney
“This is one of those fighting times, isn’t it?” Her blue stare fixed on him, needing reassurance.
“Until the bitter end. None of this is just going to go away.” It was better he was up front with her. She deserved his honesty.
She finished her glass of wine. “And Hume?”
“One way or another, I’ll make sure he stops selling weapons illegally.”
She sat back in her chair, the outline of her bra pushing through her shirt in the lighting. “I wish we’d met six months ago.”
“Is that when this started for you?”
“Yep. One day you have a sister who is in the military helping overseas. The next you don’t.”
“I’m sorry life sucks so much.”
Samson was the only family he’d ever really known. And they weren’t even blood. If he’d lost him, especially like the way Teagan lost her sister, he’d go out of his mind until he felt someone, everyone, had paid.
“It’s not on you.” A distant smile touched the sides of her lips. “Or me, for that matter. Although, I’m sure had I known you then, things would’ve turned out differently.”
Maybe. Maybe not. The world had a way of working out the way it was supposed to. Besides, there was no universe in which their paths would’ve crossed had she not gotten herself mixed up with Hume Corp. It made him an asshole to be glad that her life had brought her to Arlington and into his sights.
“We’ll never know.” He poured them both more wine.
“My parents don’t even know what I’m out here doing. They just think I needed a change.” She was watching the red wine settle in the glass, her stare distant. “Live in the big city while I’m young.”
“What are your plans after taking down a giant defense contractor? Overthrow a foreign government or two?” He wiped the cloth napkin over his mouth and laid it on his plate.
She grinned. “No. Nothing that sinister. I’d packed up most of my stuff already. I was going to hit the road. See what happened. No big plans. Give myself time to figure out what I’m good at.” Her face fell. “Actually deal with Tabitha’s death. This whole plan of mine has kind of kept the last step of the grieving process at bay.”
Acceptance.
He knew it. He’d long since done away with any sort of grieving process. He didn’t need one. He didn’t let himself care enough.
His no-attachments policy was a good one. One that would stand the test of time. He was going to have to remind himself of that until this little situation was taken care of and Teagan drove herself to wherever. And from the sounds of it, that would be far, far away from him.
* * *
Dinner had been delicious—so had sitting across from Able and his smoldering stare. Some of her personal questions agitated him; she could see it in the way he tried not to squirm. But he’d answered them. She had to give the man credit—he was fearless.
It wasn’t really all that late, but a tiredness had been creeping over her since they’d walked through his front door. Here, she could let her guard down.
She stood with her emptied plate in hand. “I suppose your mystery cook did our dishes from this morning as well?”
“Yes.” He was behind her, reaching around to drop his plate over hers in the stainless steel basin.
She didn’t turn to put her arms around him or press a kiss into his lips. She just wanted him near. Their attraction was starting to bug her. Did she actually like this man or just crave the safety he provided? Was she drawing strength from him, or was he giving her false fortitude to keep putting one foot in front of the other?
Did it matter?
No. She’d seen him kill in daylight today and was still by his side tonight—the dark turn on was intriguing. Invigorating even. She wanted to be bold with the dangerous man. In control.
He placed his palms around her upper arms, and she winced without remembering to hide it.
His hands moved away instantly.
“No,” she said. “It’s from when I got arrested.” Yesterday seemed like another life and so did the day before that compared to the one she was living now.
He gently pulled up the right sleeve of her black shirt and tenderly ran his fingertips over the source of her pain.
She felt the air change, his affection replaced with a quiet anger—the type that was the unhealthiest because he wasn’t going to explode. He was going to act swiftly and painfully and with extreme prejudice to avenge her pain.
“It’ll heal.” She let the words tumble out of her mouth before he worked himself up and left to find her arresting officer. She wanted affectionate Able tonight. She wanted to lay in bed snuggled up to that man—take her chances that he wasn’t going to turn on her for knowing too much, like they did in mafia movies.
He bristled behind her, ducking his head. Heat swirled in her belly, heading straight to the apex of her vagina. Any tiredness she may have felt instantly vanished with the careful press of Able’s lips on her bruised arm. His goatee glided along her skin, sending goose bumps like a prickly wave down the length of her arm. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back to rest on the tip of his shoulder.
He trailed his lips over the line and ran his palm down her arm until he’d laced their fingers together. His other palm wrapped around her left hip and swayed her back into him, his hard dick pressing against her lower back and ass.
She reached her left arm up, bending it back to run her fingers through his shoulder length, brown hair, clenching a fist of it as he sucked on her collarbone. He trailed his tongue up her neck and pressed a kiss below her ear. She felt herself grow wet as his tongue swirled and his hot breath hit her ear. She ached for him. She wanted him touching her, inside of her, yet there was something so perfect about this moment, she didn’t want it to end either.
He slowly moved the hand on her hip down and under the band of her jeans. His fingers glided over her skin. She felt herself pulse in anticipation as his tips ducked under the line of her black panties and her mouth salivated at the promise of his touch. The risk in being intimate with Able spiked her adrenaline. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, as she led their joined fist to slide over her thigh to sit right in the crevasse.
Her chest rose and fell with his. Able’s fingers slid through her folds and her breath caught as, instead of stopping, he kept going until two of his fingers were inside of her. He pushed them up and slowly back down, repeating the action with an ease and laziness that made her want to moan and scream and never leave this moment.
He let her right hand go—she braced herself on the counter with it. He snuck his free hand up through the inside of her shirt and under her bra until he was caressing her breast.
The pace of his fingers picked up, and he started to move his thumb in circles around her clit. Fuck, she was going to come. He dipped his head to the crook of her neck, nipping, pulling the skin up just tight enough and then releasing it only to capture it with his mouth and suck. He moved his fingers in and out of her quicker, with more purpose, and his thumb hit exactly the right spots.
Before she could do anything about it, slow down her impending satisfaction, she was coming, whispering his name between breaths because that’s all she could manage. Her orgasm was hard and all encompassing. She held on tightly to his hair and neck and bucked against his hand that was steady with the rhythm even as she spasmed around him.
He pulled his hand out of her jeans and she turned in his arms. He didn’t move back an inch, trapping her between him and the sink. Two unmovable objects. Exactly where she wanted to be.
His hands rested on her hips, his neck drooping to look her in the eye. Neither spoke. Neither had to. She gazed back at a vulnerability she hadn’t seen in him before. Somewhere between dinner and satisfying her, he’d taken off his button-up and was in a plain black, tight tank top now. The waves of ink that consumed his left shoulder and right upper arm, contouring to his gorgeous, defined brawn, in full view.
Her gaze roamed over the
sexy muscular curves of his chest. The tank had to go. She wanted to feel, kiss, and lick every inch of this man. She took a deep drag of his spicy pepper and lavender scent. She was attracted to the edge and dichotomy of his essence—he was ruthless, pragmatic, and yet protected her with a furiousness that didn’t take himself into consideration. No matter what he saw in the park earlier, he hadn’t thought twice about saving her life in the open.
She wrapped her hands around his wrists and drug her palms up his arms, over his heated skin, marveling at his tattooed biceps as she stopped just before his shoulder and dug her nails in.
Her gaze flicked back up to his. She ran her hands up the length of his neck and stopped just below his ears.
His head scooped down and their open mouths collided, sucking in each other, their tongues dancing and swirling. The rush of her heart rate pounded in her ears. She didn’t expect more than now from him. But she wanted everything he had to give.
His hands were at her ass, squeezing, pulling her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hand in his hair and clenching a fistful of the brown locks. Soft and sexy lovemaking would be nice, but there was something animal that he brought out in her. Like she was going to go crazy unless she completely possessed him and he was one with her.
He whirled them around, walked them up the stairs to his bedroom, and laid her back on his bed. Piece by piece, he started to undress her. A groan filled the space as he pulled down her pants and took in her black panties. He looped two fingers around the band circling her hips and guided them down her legs. He threw them somewhere and kissed up her legs, slowly, swirling his tongue as he went. He reached her apex and placed a kiss on her clit. She writhed under him, lit up for more. Needing more. She moaned when he moved away, and caught the smile on his lips just before he pressed a kiss into her hipbone. The man was a sadist. His kisses continued up her torso to her breasts, dragging her shirt up with his thumbs, leaving a hot trail from his touch.
God, she felt sexy and coveted and drunk on the ecstasy of his worship.
He pulled her shirt over her head and she reached for his face. He caught her palms before she could grab onto him and pull him against her skin. Every part of her was crying out for him to consume her. He moved her arms above her head, pinning her to the bed with his chocolate gaze, hard and hot and sexy as fuck with the promise of pleasure she wanted to scream for. But she stayed quiet because she wanted to see what he was going to do next.
Her nipples turned into hard pebbles as he slid the tips of his fingers over the edge of her body. His hand moved up, following the contour of her shoulder, then he wrapped his palm around her neck and brought his head down to capture her lips—kissing and licking.
His thickness pressed between her legs and into the softness of her belly and she felt her pussy grow wet. She was going to come again without him even being in her.
He dropped his body onto hers, pulled his hips back, grabbed his cock, and ran the silky tip between her folds. She arched her back; the sensations were too numerous to take in, so she closed her eyes and pushed her head back into the comforter to increase her contact to him and let the pleasure roll over her. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she was going to pin him to the bed and ride him without reservation.
He entered her slowly, capturing her lips as he pushed hard against her to fill her fully. He pulled back and, just as slowly, did it all over again. Shit, she could feel every inch of him, his thickness opening her and his tip sliding against her g-spot, each pump bringing her closer to the edge.
His pelvis pressed harder against her hips, harder and harder, and she moaned into his shoulder and dug her fingers into his back. Faster, faster … her mind blurred again as her orgasm built. She was almost there then all of a sudden his pace slowed again.
“More,” she whispered into his cheek as she kissed her way to his ear. He nuzzled her neck as she caught his earlobe in her mouth.
“Like that?” He thrust harder into her.
“Yes,” she half whimpered, half sighed. She craved more, but at the same time she wanted to live in this beautiful limbo of ecstasy. The thrusting, the teasing, the closeness.
“How about now?” He ground his hips against hers, spreading her legs wider apart as he took her nipple in his mouth and caressed her other breast with his palm.
“God, yes.”
His teeth pull at her nipple before letting go and covering her with his rock hard abs and broad shoulders.
His forehead rested against hers as he mercifully picked up the pace again. A low groan escaped his lips; his head fell and nuzzled deep into the crook of her neck.
“You’re amazing.” She ran her hands down his bare skin to his ass and squeezed him to her. Harder. Faster. She clenched him as her body moved with his in perfect harmony. Waves of pleasure kept rolling over her, one bigger than the next.
He moaned above her, big muscles hard against her, his hips bucking into her, sending more bolts of pleasure up through her chest.
Their breathing was heavy as he collapsed on her, crushing her into the mattress.
The weight was beautiful.
* * *
Able bent his arm around his head and rested his head on his palm. Teagan laid her cheek on his bare chest, her blonde hair splaying down his side. He absently ran his fingers up and down her arm, her skin impossibly soft.
He had no intention of sleeping on his couch tonight. He was going to stay up here in his bed with Teagan. And she didn’t seem to mind. Her body curled into him, her leg over his. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept the night with a woman. Certainly never in his bed before. Not ever.
He didn’t have to hide any part of himself with her. He didn’t ever volunteer what he really did for a living, usually sticking to his design cover story if the conversation with a lady got that far. Teagan knew the worst of him, had seen it firsthand, and she wasn’t running.
It generally wasn’t easy for him to connect with people, which was why his chosen profession came more naturally to him than most. Growing up in too many different foster homes to keep count could do that to a person. But more so lately he could barely stand his own skin.
Teagan was changing that for him. It wouldn’t last forever, and he’d move on when this was all over. But the fact that he’d been given a glimpse into a new outlook was enough to make him grateful to her forever. A soul-deep need was starting to surface: the need to be connected.
“Why do you sometimes call me by my last name?” she asked, drawing little circles around his nipples with her index finger then travelling up to the ink on his chest that swirled in black on his skin.
He looked to his matted black ceiling with the exposed piping.
“It creates distance,” he finally admitted, trying to keep the power in his voice, although he sounded anything but cool and collected to his own ears.
“You need distance from my first name?” A sly smile graced her eyes as she turned her head up to look at him with those impossibly gorgeous, deep blue eyes.
“Your last name helps me keep my mind on the business at hand.” He glanced to the balcony railing, finding it hard to look into her endless possibilities stare. “Your first name rushes blood south. That doesn’t bode well for any of us if I don’t give our situation my full attention.”
“I do enjoy your full attention.” Her sexy, deep chuckle brought a smile to his lips. “I didn’t know a name could do that.”
“If you think your name is a turn on, what do you think happens when you say mine?” He nipped at her bottom lip and captured it between his teeth, pulled it out before letting it go and pressing his lips to hers.
“I like this power.” She smiled against his skin then kissed his abs.
“I thought you liked to give up control.” He knew better. She liked it either way, whatever the moment called for. He liked that, too.
“That’s a form of power.” Her brow arched and her voice was richer, heavier.
Last n
ight and this morning could be considered one-offs. Slip ups. Something adults did because they could. Tonight had been purposeful. He’d worshipped her body, made it his.
Chapter Eleven
Teagan claimed the end of the black leather couch that faced the screens. She crossed one leg over the other and wrapped her arms around herself. She’d had one hell of a night with Able and even without a bunch of sleep felt well rested. Today, however, he was welcome to take the fast ride to hell for all she cared. Withholding information was the same as lying in her book.
“Claire met her old boyfriend at the club last night.” Samson’s tone, too, held an edge although she suspected he was trying to sound like he didn’t care.
“He was helpful, yes.” Claire cocked a hip that called attention to her nude flats, tight blue pants, and white blouse with tan polka dots.
“He would’ve walked off a damn cliff for you.”
Claire took a sip from her mug. “Paulo is a sweet man.”
“The rest was for good measure then?” The undertone of hurt and anger read loud and clear on Samson’s face. Whether he wanted it to or not.
“I kissed him because I wanted.” Claire sat across from Sabene and set her cup on the table, keeping eye contact with Samson the entire time.
Milo started laughing in the kitchen as he popped a grape into his mouth. “Samson was ready to punch the guy out.”
“Do you two need to take this outside?” Able glared at both of them then lingered his snarl at Milo.
“No. Samson is just jealous.” A wide smile spread on Claire’s dusty pink lips. She was enjoying this. Samson and Claire must’ve had a thing that didn’t end well because they sure didn’t get along, but there was a heat between them that only a former lover could bring out. Teagan knew because she’d seen it before, not because she’d directly experienced anything like that herself.
“You’re telling me you found them?” Able’s brow rose.
Samson pulled at his ear before shoving his hands in his pockets then planted himself between the two couches. “We have a good idea.”
