by Dawn Ryder
“I’m not into slave play.” But her voice was husky and needy. The head of his cock was now only teasing the entrance to her sheath, tormenting her with how hard and thick it was. She pushed back, trying to impale herself, but he held her steady. He leaned back down and captured her earlobe between his teeth. It was a tiny bite but the sensation rippled down her body, fanning the flames of desire, making her skin hot.
“Does that mean you’re sorry you submitted to me tonight, Zoe?” He thrust forward, only a few inches, but it drove the head of his cock into her pussy, stretching her sheath. A strangled sound escaped from her lips, need and anticipation threatening to drive her insane.
“It feels like you’re as pleased as I am that we aren’t sitting in some restaurant trading details of our lives while trying to ignore just how much we’d rather be fucking.”
“You’re being an asshole,” she snarled. The response startled her but Mercer chuckled.
“So be a bitch.” He straightened up and thrust forward until every last inch of his cock was lodged inside her. “Tell me what the hell you want and refuse to take any shit from me.”
Her body liked that idea. Loved it. Her clit pulsed, demanding to be pressed against his rigid length, but he held tight to her hips, keeping her on her knees.
What I want?
“Fuck me.” She didn’t recognize her voice. It was far too sultry. “Hard.”
Satisfaction coated his words. “Yes, ma’am.” He growled at her again, savage and primitive, but it fed the need eating her.
“Now.”
She didn’t need to prompt him but she liked doing it. He was already in motion, keeping her in position with a grip that almost hurt, but she barely noticed because she was too absorbed with the way his cock felt moving in and out of her. Pleasure slammed into her every time she felt his balls against her slit. She couldn’t recall being so full before, the walls of her pussy aching just enough to tell her she was being stretched. She pressed backward, matching his rhythm, and heard him snarl with satisfaction.
“Take what you want, Zoe, and to hell with what anyone else thinks is right. Go with your feelings.”
Being lured away from convention had never appealed so much. He leaned down and teased her ear with his breath. “I want to see what kind of fire you have in your belly.”
“Turn me over.”
She needed more friction; her clit was pulsing with need again. But she wasn’t the only one craving release. Mercer pulled free and sent her rolling with one push on the side of her hip. She hadn’t truly landed on her back when he pressed his weight down on her. Someone groaned but she wasn’t sure who. He pushed her thighs wide, returning his length to her pussy.
“Then again, I like having you on your back … a lot.” He growled softly.
This time she felt every inch of his hard flesh pressing against her clit with each thrust. She twisted, unable to decide how to release all the pleasure contained inside her. There was no thought, only response. He slammed into her and she rose to meet each thrust. Her fingers curled into talons on his shoulders, digging into the skin, but it only gained her an increase in pace. Pleasure exploded, shooting up into her womb. White-hot and uncontrollable, it sliced through her. Mercer snarled something before he buried his length and she felt the shudder of his release. It increased the pleasure, deepening it, and left her battling to remain conscious. She heard him roll over and the bed groan when he landed on his back, but her body was too flooded with satisfaction for her to do anything but lie there. She opened her eyes in surprise when he rolled back toward her, one arm securing her against him. He was solid and warm, everything she had no right to expect. She floated off on the ripples of delight, without another thought for how wise it was to fall asleep with a near stranger in her house.
Because the moment felt perfect and she just didn’t have it in her to argue with perfect. Disillusionment could fucking wait.
* * *
Mercer fought the urge to pass out. His balls ached, proving he’d come harder than he had in a long time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, shouldn’t have become so consuming. His thinking was clouded with satisfaction now. He wanted to sink down into the afterglow and forget the details of how he’d come to be in Zoe’s bed. She fit perfectly against him. Hell, he even liked the scent of her skin. It wasn’t a perfume, just her own musk. One that struck him as sexy.
But emotions had no place in his mission.
Shit.
He sat up and his head spun. A deep breath banished the feeling as he stood and tossed the comforter over her. Zoe was sleeping, her breathing slowing as she relaxed. All he wanted to do was lie back down next to her. The urge was so strong he had to fight it.
He had a mission and it didn’t allow for emotional reactions to sex. Discarding the condom, he closed the front of his pants. He retrieved his shirt and jacket from the floor and went into her office. He didn’t flip the light on to keep the parrot from blowing his cover. He checked the tiny camera set up to film the computer screen before dialing Saxon.
“You in?” Saxon’s voice cut with how sharp it was.
“Yeah, are you getting a clear shot?”
“Yes. Thais wants the cell phone.”
They couldn’t get into her files but at least they’d be able to see whatever she had up on her screen. The camera would provide a double service, giving them the information from what she was working on as well as providing irrefutable evidence that she had been the one receiving the classified files. Zoe’s sweet face wouldn’t keep her from being convicted once they had the video footage.
He felt like shit.
The emotion stunned him and he sat back in the chair for a moment while he tried to shift through his response.
It was sex. Nothing else. It couldn’t become anything more. Zoe Magnus was knee-deep in military espionage. It was his duty to gather enough evidence to convict her. Their contacts had traced the link to her brother and the point of entry into the United States as her phone lines.
Or she was innocent and he was a complete asshole for using her. At least it would beat being convicted of treason. Somehow, he doubted she’d be very happy either way.
The main problem was he couldn’t think of how she might be unaware of the intel crossing through her computer. The system was locked up tighter than a prison. She had to have a motive for protecting her files so well.
He had to move forward with the team plan. Even if he was going soft, there were still the men in the field to consider. Someone was selling out positions, and men died when that happened. His bruised feelings would have to take a backseat to preventing more bloodshed.
Sitting back up, he dug into his pockets and retrieved the bugs he needed to plant. Pushing the chair back, he crawled under the desk to make sure every last byte of information coming into the office also transmitted to Saxon’s network. The last thing he did was pull her cell phone out of her jeans.
Mercer slipped the phone into his pocket. Planting a mobile download device into it would require specialized tools and knowledge of micro-electronics he didn’t have.
He glanced at Zoe, studying the way she slept, innocence showing on her face. He turned away, forcing his attention to his mission.
* * *
Zoe fought her way free of slumber. It wasn’t what her body wanted. Her mind refused to surrender easily, wanting to remain in the dream world. But something needled her, some pressing thing that refused to allow her to sleep despite how much she was enjoying it.
She rubbed her eyes and sat up. The room was dark but she couldn’t recall turning the downstairs light off. Memory returned swiftly and with a sharp edge that cut through her drowsiness. Reaching out, she discovered the bed empty.
Well … what did she expect?
Standing up, she froze when a pinch of discomfort rippled through her passage, marking where Mercer had been.
And now he was gone.
That bothered her more than it should have. Th
ere had been no promises, not even small talk. She stood up and rubbed her eyes to kill the urge to cry.
She wasn’t a teenager anymore.
But it still stung that he hadn’t stayed past midnight. She could smell him on her skin, and her body tingled with renewed passion. She kicked her jeans on the way to the bathroom and flipped the shower on. With only the closet light on, she stood beneath the slightly warm water to wash the scent of her impulsiveness away.
He wasn’t her lover.
Nope. She worked the soap bar across her skin. He’d been hot and looking for sex, but she had higher standards for someone she called a lover. Mercer was … well … she wasn’t sure of exactly what he was.
Except gone.
CHAPTER TWO
“Did you get the data from her desk camera?”
“I did my job,” Thais muttered to Mercer, holding out her hand for Zoe’s cell phone while pulling a magnifying lamp in front of her. She laid the cell phone on the surface of her desk and picked up a tiny scalpel to begin opening it.
Mercer yanked a chair around and straddled it. “So why the bitterness in your tone, Thais?”
She never looked up. “We’re teammates, Mercer. The only thing that matters is my performance. You’re out of line evaluating my personal feelings.”
He propped his forearms across the top of the chair. “Really? It sounds to me like you give a damn about the target, which is definitely territory any team member has the right to intrude on because it might compromise the entire mission.”
Anger flashed in Thais’s dark eyes. “Since I’m not in direct contact on this mission, you don’t need to worry.”
“You’re backing me up, that makes it my business.”
Her expression turned knowing. “It sounds to me like you’re pushing that mission objective protocol pretty hard. We’re still lacking hard evidence.” She returned her attention to the cell phone, her delicate fingers perfect for working with the tiny components.
“And you don’t like knowing there is a chance of there being no evidence?” he questioned.
Thais looked up at him, locking gazes. “If you’re that comfortable, Mercer, I’ve misjudged you.”
“Stop picking on Thais and get your tail into my office, Mercer.”
Saxon was in a pisser of a mood. Thais waved good-bye to him with a knowing look in her eyes that sent a chill down his spine. Mercer tightened his hold on his feelings before crossing into Saxon’s territory.
“I’d think you’d be in better frame of mind, since I managed to complete my mission objective,” Mercer announced from the doorway.
Saxon looked at him over the top of a laptop. “Nothing’s complete. One of the packets of intel was moved, but since I can’t navigate her system, you missed an opportunity to possibly allow us to catch it last night by not getting her on the back of your bike.”
“You’re being a hardass.”
Saxon’s lips finally twitched up into a grin. “Thanks. I consider it one of my best attributes.” He studied Mercer for a long moment. “Is she getting to you?”
Saxon had an uncanny ability to sniff out a lie. Mercer bit back the urge to deny it and shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Done,” Thais announced from the other room.
“I’d better get that back. She sleeps with the thing,” Mercer said. He felt crowded, which should have raised a red flag inside his brain; instead, all he could think of was getting back to Zoe. Part of him knew damn well it had nothing to do with his assignment.
Saxon shook his head and pointed at the chair in front of his desk. “She logged into her email account forty-two minutes after you left. Let her think she put it into the jacket you put on her. Brief as it was, she’ll be pissed because you left. Figure out how to deal with her injured feelings.”
“Fine.”
Mercer was on his way out of the office before Saxon found an excuse to dig at him. He took the cell phone from Thais on his way out the door of the command center. The Spanish-style house they were headquartered in was spacious and open, but he felt caged.
She knew he’d left.
That knowledge dug at him despite all the reasons why it shouldn’t matter. At least not beyond the needs of the operation. He should be focused on how to approach her now that she’d woken up alone.
He needed a plan. Zoe might be inexperienced when it came to heavy flirting, but beneath that failing he’d discovered a core of solid strength. The knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth because it was a small bit of evidence, telling him she could be hard if she wanted to be. He’d begun to doubt if the woman entertaining sick kids with a parrot had what it took to sell men out. Beneath the fragile sexual awareness, though, was a woman who wasn’t a complete pushover. He’d sensed, practically tasted it in those moments when she’d abandoned everything except what she craved.
Maybe that was the real problem. A pushover wasn’t his style. Zoe had grit, too much of it for him to shield his emotions, which only brought him around to regretting how they’d met. If she was innocent, it was a sure bet she’d never want to see him again.
His buddy Vitus was right: He needed to stop working on special cases. The rush was addictive, but it was the innocents who could eat a man alive.
If Zoe ended up being not guilty, he had the feeling he was going to see her face in his nightmares for a very long time.
Like forever.
But there were already faces there, in the one place he couldn’t avoid. The faces of his buddies. The ones who hadn’t been lucky enough to walk away from the ambush he’d survived. Sometimes, he seriously questioned who was the lucky one among their number. He was alive but not really living. The past had a stranglehold on him, one that was the driving force behind his involvement in the operation he was engaged in. Just one shoulder-held air-to-surface missile and the intel to tell the enemy where to be. That was all it took. He had to hold on to that knowledge when he was looking into Zoe’s eyes.
His mother sure hadn’t raised him to use women, no matter the reason.
But his buddies’ mothers were all new recipients of American flags. He was in position to keep other mothers from the same fate.
So why didn’t he feel better about it?
The answer was simple.
Zoe.
If she was hiding a black heart, she was a master of deception.
Mercer walked out the door because he couldn’t dismiss the possibility of her being exactly that.
* * *
Zoe woke up tired the next morning. There wasn’t enough coffee in North America to improve her mood, either. Her workday crept by like a lame tortoise in the cold.
She tied on her running shoes and took off the moment it was close to quitting time. Running took her focus off her thoughts. She didn’t return home until her legs were threatening to cramp. Her hair was slick with sweat, and most of the anxiety that had been needling her throughout the day was gone.
But she froze when she found Mercer back on her front porch.
“You look surprised to see me, Zoe.”
She brushed her hair back and became frustrated with the urge to improve her appearance for him. “Since you left at just about the same moment you finished getting what you wanted, I am surprised to see you.”
Peevish? Maybe. But she was going to call it as she saw it.
“Would have called you but you left your cell in my jacket pocket.”
He held up her cell phone and wiggled it. She hesitated before reaching for it. Recalling last night wasn’t a problem. Images replayed across her mind with a crystal clarity that aroused her despite her temper.
Only she didn’t recall putting her cell phone in the pocket of that jacket.
“Yeah, well … thanks for bringing it back. I wouldn’t have noticed it missing until I was packing for my next party.”
Mercer frowned. “You have more than one cell phone?”
She plucked the phone out of his hand and slipped it in
to her lightweight sweatshirt’s pocket.
“Most guys ask for a girl’s cell phone number.” She fit her key into the front door and heard Harley greet her. She turned and blocked the doorway. A ripple of apprehension traveled along her nerves because even standing on the top step, she still wasn’t eye level with Mercer. Keeping the man out of her house wouldn’t prove easy.
Yeah, try impossible …
“But you didn’t ask for my number and you neglected to leave yours, so thanks for returning my phone. Good night.”
She backed up and moved to close the door only to see his booted foot lodged firmly where she’d stood half a second ago.
“Don’t start sounding like a teenager who’s pissed off at her prom date, Zoe.” He pushed the door open but stood in place, watching her with his dark eyes. “I’m really beginning to like you, so don’t ruin the moment. You’re not the only one surprised by how strong our reaction is to each other. I didn’t show up at the bar looking for anything more than a cold beer and some stress relief. I just got back on American soil and half my mind hasn’t finished the journey. Fun, I was out looking for. You’re complicated. I needed to think about that.”
He struck a chord inside her, in the same place she was nursing injured pride because she’d woken up alone. But she knew full well what her dad and brother looked like when they made it back home. Post-traumatic stress was no joke. It was very possible he didn’t trust himself to sleep next to her. She’d be a complete turd to forget how deep the unseen scars of combat ran. They weren’t exactly close enough for her to expect him to blurt out the fact that he was having night terrors.
“All right, fair enough.”
His lips curled up into a grin, but the look in his eyes never softened. The fingers he had curled around the door frame were white. “So invite me in.”
“What are you, a vampire?” she asked.
His grin became wider until his teeth showed. “Tell me, baby, wasn’t my skin hot enough last night for you to notice I’m not a member of the undead community?”
It sure was …
Zoe blushed. It was a humiliating response and he didn’t miss it. His gaze homed in on the telltale spots of color brightening her cheeks.
