His to Claim

by Shelly Bell

  Jane’s brows dipped in confusion. “Then why didn’t they arrest him?”

  “Three hours and the cop never wrote down a damned word. At the end, he warned that if I ever made another false report, he’d have my ass thrown in jail.”

  Ryder recalled it as if it were yesterday. The feeling of betrayal and helplessness that came from discovering the people who were supposed to protect you were instead the ones who would harm you. “Until then, I hadn’t realized just how powerful of a man Keane was. I never made that mistake again.” He stared into Jane’s eyes and made a vow. “And I never will.”

  Her lips parted and her pink tongue darted out to moisten them. She was so beautiful, her cheeks flush with color and her wild hair framing her face. His cock began to harden. He knew she felt it when her breathing hitched.

  Suddenly, they were kissing, hard and fast as if they were starving for one another. His hands plunged into her hair. She shifted on his lap, facing him, and ground her core against the bulge in his pants. They moaned in unison.

  “We shouldn’t. I swore I wasn’t going to fuck you tonight,” he reminded her.

  He could’ve cried when she ceased her grinding and lifted herself off him. But she shocked the hell out of him when she ran her hand down his length.

  “Then let me take care of you tonight,” she said, her voice as sweet as honey. Her fingers went to his fly and nimbly unbuttoned his jeans.

  He stilled her hand. “Get off the bed.”

  She rolled off him and planted her feet on the ground beside him.

  “Can you snap?” At her nod, he continued. “If you need me to stop, snap your fingers.” Because her mouth would be too full of cock to speak. “Any other time, you use a safe word. A word you don’t normally use in conversation and something you’ll easily remember. A standard one is ‘red,’ which is why I chose it for you to use before, but you can pick anything you want.”

  Her cheeks blushed a dark pink. “Red. I’ll remember that.”

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, facing her. “Take off your shirt and bra.”

  Creases formed on her forehead. “I thought I was—”

  “Jane. Don’t ask questions. Just do it.” Preferably, before his cock punched its way out of his jeans.

  His heart pounded as he watched her follow his orders. Her hands were shaking a bit as one by one, she undid the buttons of her blouse. Her breathing was rapid and her pupils blown up like round, black balloons eating up the brown irises of her eyes. All signs she was as excited as he was for this.

  Keeping her gaze on him, she peeled her blouse off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then reached around to undo the clasp of her lacy white bra. His breath came out as an audible hiss when she bared her pert tits to him.

  “Now remove your pants and your panties.” His voice came out as if he’d swallowed sand.

  Snagging her lower lip between her teeth, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and slowly—much too fucking slowly—dragged them down her thighs and stepped out of them. With her hands hanging at her sides, she stood before him, her back straight and her chest out. He allowed himself a moment to take in the lovely view of her.

  From the wild strands of her hair teasing the tops of her breasts to the light stretch marks on her belly, she was so fucking perfect. He groaned at the sight of the glistening curls of her mound.

  “You like me telling you what to do in the bedroom, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. He stood up from the bed and unzipped his jeans. “Prove it to me. Get on your knees.”

  She sank to the floor and looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

  Standing right in front of her, he pushed his jeans and briefs down to just below his knees. His cock sprang free, the wet tip of him smacking him in the navel. A little smirk played at Jane’s lips.

  He’d wipe that smirk off soon enough.

  His cock twitched and a bit of precum dripped from his tip. He swiped his finger through it and wiped it across Jane’s lips. Her eyes went glassy as she licked it away.

  He laid his hands on her cheekbones and pulled her head forward. “Open up. You don’t have to do anything but relax your mouth and let me in.”

  He couldn’t wait any longer. He surged forward, giving his sweet Jane the first couple inches of his cock. Her tongue caressed the underside of his crown, bathing it in her warmth. He fought against the urge to shove the entire length down her throat.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. He took a deep breath as he slipped his cock farther into the hot cavern of her mouth. She peered up at him wantonly. Slowly, he pumped himself in and out of her, getting her used to the sensation of having her mouth invaded. When she didn’t panic, he pushed her head farther onto his cock, careful not to reach the back of her throat.

  He knew that this was the first time she’d ever given head and that if he ever wanted it from her again, he better not scare her off. They’d have plenty of time for her to become an expert and learn how to swallow down his entire length into her throat without gagging.

  But a simple blow job wasn’t enough for him. Not with Jane. With her, there was an underlying need that had never been there with any other woman.

  The need to dominate.

  Control.

  Consume.

  There was a connection between them he couldn’t deny, and he was drawn to her like no other.

  He moved his hands from her cheeks to the back of her head and propelled her forward on him in tempo with his thrusts. Her lips stretched and tightened around him, and he watched in fascination as his cock slid in and out of her. The inside of her mouth was soft and wet and so fucking hot he couldn’t hold on much longer.

  But he would.

  For Jane.

  Because he wasn’t the only one who was going to come.

  “Play with your pussy,” he commanded. “Use one hand to rub that slippery clit of yours and shove the fingers of the other inside of you pretending it’s my cock.”

  She didn’t hesitate. Immediately, he heard the sound of her fingers pumping away inside of her wetness. Her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned around his cock, the vibration racing along the length of him to his balls.

  “Are you going to come, my sweet Jane?” he asked. “I bet you are. You love having your face fucked by my cock, don’t you? You’re so good at this, baby. You’re making me feel so good. I want to do the same for you. I don’t want you to hold back. I want to feel you scream around my cock.”

  Her lids briefly opened and their eyes met before she closed them again on a whimper. A fine sheen of perspiration broke out along her collarbone. Her body trembled and her skin flushed. Suddenly, she screamed, the sound of it muffled, and her body jerked as her release crashed over her.

  The tremor of her scream on his cock and the vision of her coming was all he needed to push him over the edge. His balls drew up tight to his body. He lightened his hold on her head. “Jane, I’m going to come. If you don’t want to swallow it down, snap your fingers.”

  Her eyes shot open and she gave the subtlest shake of her head.

  No snap.

  White-hot tingles raced down his spine and wrapped around his testicles before traveling up his length. His toes curled into the carpet and he held his breath. His cock pulsed and then his climax hit him. His come spurted into her mouth—once, twice, so many fucking times—coating her tongue and pooling in her mouth. As his cock slipped out from between her lips, Jane closed her mouth and swallowed his come down her throat.

  Sexy as fuck.

  He tugged her to her feet and pulled her toward him as they fell back onto the mattress. He kissed her, not minding the taste of him inside her mouth. If anything, it made him hot. Even though he’d just come, his cock was stirring, ready for more. He loved her weight on top of him and the way she was tall enough so that their bodies lined up just right. If he hadn’t stupidly vowed not to fuck her and had been wearing a condom, he could easily
slide inside her tight heat.

  But he could make her come one more time before they went back downstairs. This time with his mouth.

  He rolled her over, trapping her beneath him.

  His cell rang in his jeans pocket, which, after everything, were still halfway down his legs. He didn’t want to take it. Probably just Tristan telling him to get his ass downstairs for dinner. But he grabbed it anyway and checked the display, not recognizing the number.

  He moved off Jane and sat up to answer. “Ryder speaking.”

  All the tension that Jane had sucked out of his body returned as he listened to news on the other end of the call. He answered a couple questions before hanging up and then immediately began getting dressed.

  Jane got off the bed. “Who was that?”

  “That was the alarm company,” he told her. “Someone broke into Novateur.”

  SIXTEEN

  Jane hadn’t expected to get to see Novateur tonight. She’d been looking forward to turkey with all the trimmings and taking pictures on her phone of Maddox’s first Thanksgiving. But once Ryder received the call that his business had been broken into, all of it fell by the wayside. Although he’d insisted she stay, she’d made arrangements for Dreama to bring Maddox home with her. It wasn’t as if there weren’t a dozen people at the Lawsons volunteering to hold him for her.

  She followed Ryder’s car as they drove the ten minutes from the Lawsons to Novateur. Unlike McKay Industries, which was located downtown on the Detroit River, Novateur was housed in a modest one-story brick building in the suburbs, not far from where she’d met Ryder for dinner the other night, or her apartment. She wondered if Ryder lived nearby too.

  A police car was parked on the street in front of the building, its blue lights flashing. She hoped that the alarm had been set off by accident, but with the things that had been happening this past week, she wouldn’t discount anything. Especially since someone—possibly on Keane’s orders—had already stolen Ryder’s designs. Would a break-in at Novateur be that hard to believe?

  Still, it was likely her mind was running away with her.

  As she approached the building, Ryder, along with passengers Tristan and Isaac, was already speaking with two officers who were standing in front of Novateur’s broken glass front door.

  Ryder went inside and turned on the lights. She waited until all the men had entered before she stepped into the warehouse.

  It was much bigger inside than she’d anticipated. There were three rows of kitchens, stretching back as far as her eyes could see. It was nothing like McKay, where all their designs from the innovation department were virtual and made off-site by the manufacturing divisions. She rarely got to see them in action. And their restaurant kitchen demos were still being tweaked because of the software failure. Although now with Evan gone, it was doubtful they’d ever get it working. After hearing the truth about Keane from Ryder earlier, she had to wonder if the software problems stemmed from the fact that her company hadn’t written the software—but had stolen it from Ryder.

  The taller of the two cops waved his arm. “The alarm probably scared them off, but you might want to look around to make sure they didn’t take anything.”

  Ryder took her hand and led her toward the right side of the warehouse. They followed along the wall, passing a half-dozen kitchens, before he brought her to an open door.

  His lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. “I know for a fact I closed this door before I left work yesterday.”

  He went inside and turned on the lights.

  It was an office.

  It wasn’t large or lush. More…functional. A large steel desk covered with forms and papers and the typical office supplies. She walked around the perimeter, taking it all in. There were a couple framed photographs on the wall. Both of the Detroit Tigers. One from the 1984 World Series and the other of the victorious final championship game for the eleventh American League pennant.

  Guess he was a Tigers fan. Just a reminder of how little they knew one another.

  He went through his drawers like a madman, opening them, staring at them for several moments, and then slamming them closed again. He slid open the thinnest drawer, where she would normally keep her pens and pencils, and frowned. He lifted up a Rolex watch. “My watch is still here. If they were after valuables, don’t you think they would’ve taken this?”

  The expression on his face was one she’d never seen before. His pupils were tiny pinpricks and his nostrils flared.

  On one hand, his anger scared her. But not enough to run the other way.

  Hoping to calm him down, she went to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “Ryder—”

  “This wasn’t a random break-in,” he said firmly. “Whoever it was knew what he was looking for and it wasn’t a Rolex.”

  Tristan and Isaac strode into the office.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  He turned his head and stared at the Tigers World Series photo. “The only thing of real value in this place.”

  What?

  “Where’s your laptop?” Tristan asked.

  Ryder stormed over to the frame on the wall and removed it. There, behind it, was a hidden safe built into the wall. He plugged in a series of numbers and, on a beep, opened the safe. He pulled out a laptop and brought it to his desk.

  “Thank God whoever it was didn’t find it,” he murmured. He looked up at Tristan and Isaac. “But my records were rifled through.”

  She was confused. What exactly did Ryder keep on that computer and why was it so valuable it needed to be locked in a safe?

  “So were ours,” said Isaac. “Not that we keep much here.”

  Ryder flipped up the top of the computer and turned it on.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Checking the footage for the past hour. Novateur has video cameras set up throughout the warehouse.” He clicked on a tab and brought up a video. He slid the time backward until a shadow appeared by the front door. She watched as the guy busted the glass with some kind of tool and was able to turn the locks of the door.

  Although the video was dark, a small stream of light from the streetlamp gave them a glimpse of the intruder.

  “Shit, he was wearing a mask,” Ryder said. “And the video is too grainy to see anything other than one person with broad shoulders and a manly gait.”

  “Great,” Tristan said sarcastically. “At least we’ve narrowed down fifty percent of the population.”

  She squeezed Ryder’s shoulder. “You should give it over to the police. Maybe they can enhance it.”

  “Even if they had the capability to do that,” Ryder said, “the cops aren’t going to take time to investigate a break-in when nothing was taken.”

  She wondered if there wasn’t another reason he didn’t want to involve the cops. After what he’d told her tonight about his past experience with a detective, she understood how he might not trust the police.

  “What’s so valuable on your laptop that someone might have broken in for it?” she asked.

  The room went silent.

  Ryder shut down his computer and pushed back from his desk. After returning the computer to his safe, he directed his attention to Isaac and Tristan. “Guys, why don’t you let the cops know nothing was taken, then go back to dinner and enjoy Thanksgiving with your families? I need to talk to Jane.”

  After they left, she hoisted herself onto the edge of Ryder’s desk and waited for him to tell her what the heck was going on.

  He paced the width of the room. “The designs McKay is developing for the restaurant automation line. How’s that going? Having trouble with the technology?”

  She jerked back, wondering how he knew that. He’d already made it clear he believed his father was behind the theft of his designs off his computer at the conference. “Do you think Keane had something to do with this break-in?”

  Deep creases formed above his brows. “The short answer is…I don’t know. From the military to your g
randfather, there’s been a lot of interest in the technology I’ve developed. That’s why I’ve taken extra precautions to keep it safe.”

  “What technology?” she asked, confused. Yes, restaurant kitchen automation was on the cutting edge, but it didn’t seem valuable enough to warrant that amount of interest.

  “Other than for general hardware schematics and basic automation, the designs stolen from my laptop on Mackinac were worthless”—he rubbed the back of his neck—“because I’d omitted a part of the coding in the software. The part that enables a computer to learn.”

  Her jaw dropped. “A computer learn? That’s not possible.”

  “It’s not only possible, but I also developed it.”

  “Okay, but why would the military want it?”

  He stopped his pacing and turned to her. “How familiar are you with autonomous weapon systems?”

  Weapons? What did weapons have to do with restaurant automation?

  She tipped her head to the side. “Not much.” More like nothing at all.

  “Automated weapons are already a reality,” he explained. “They’ll only do what they’re programmed and/or directed to do. An example is a C-RAM system.”

  Having no idea what he meant by a C-RAM system, she shrugged and shook her head.

  He took a step toward her. “The counter-missile systems that shoot down rockets. Those systems have radars and sensors that can detect a missile threat, warn us about the threat, and utilize built-in weapons to shoot it down before it can reach land. These still utilize human supervision and give the government owner the opportunity to shut it down, if needed. But an autonomous weapon system doesn’t rely on any human intervention. For all intents and purposes, it’s artificial intelligence, able to process and act all on its own.”

  She sat quietly for a moment, allowing herself to process the information. Was he really saying he’d written software that could be used to make a weapon autonomous?

  How was that possible?

  “Your software can do that?” she asked, doubt evident in her tone. “The software you wrote for Novateur.”

  A small grin pulled up the corners of his lips. “Yes. The software I created can be used in a variety of ways. Anything from kitchens to robots to weapons.”