She moves until she’s straddling me, her fingers inching under my shirt, touching skin, traveling up to my chest. She whimpers as I jerk her to me, my cock pressing into her sex through our clothes. I want her. Need her. Need to sink into her warmth and forget everything that’s happened the past two hours.
Licking into her mouth, I swear to myself this is the last time, even as I pull her harder against me and nibble on her bottom lip. Lifting my hips, I grind into her, feeling her heat, loving it when she tilts her hips forward and grinds back, needing me too.
Just one more.
Easing my fingertips inside her sweater, I’ll just allow myself another touch. Her skin is hot and damp as my palm skates up her back. She’s so soft and smooth. Her fingers moving down my abs and into the waistband of my pants.
Christ, if she touches me, I’ll probably come all over myself. It’s been so long, so damn long since I’ve been with a woman. Touched and been touched. Gave and received. I’ve missed this so much.
Our mouths separate when her tongue traces a line down my jaw, coming up to lick into my ear. I shiver, just as I shivered every time Laura did that same thing. Grief tugs at my heart as I think of her. Remember her. Long for her. My wife. My dead wife. The wife I made a promise to. A promise I couldn’t fulfill until…
Mia is up and off me, jerking away with the opening of the kitchen door. She steps into the tub of water, slides and falls backwards, her arms pin wheeling at her sides. Reaching for her, I catch the front of her sweater along with a handful of breast. Her eyes grow wide, her face an immediate mortified red as Dave steps inside, takes in the situation with one glance and turns around with a mumbled, “I’ll just get the rest of the stuff.”
Yanking her back to me, I curse when she lands in my lap, this time with a knee in my dick. But she’s turned into the Tasmanian devil, spinning around, leaping off my lap, half sliding, half hopping to the doorway. She grabs hold of it with both hands, panting heavily.
When I catch my fucking breath, I stand, nearly do a split in the water, but hold on to the table until my balance is back.
“Safe to come in?” Dave shouts, but barges through the door before either of us can say a word. He gives me a “what the hell, man” look before his eyes slide to where Mia is standing. Correction, where she had been standing until a second before.
I hold up a hand, silently begging him not to ask me questions and run after Mia. The bathroom door slams shut before I can make it there. I knock and try the doorknob at the same time. Locked. I knock again. “Mia, it’s okay. Open up. We need to talk.”
Holy damn.
Did I just tell a woman we need to talk? What in the hell is wrong with me?
“Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
I consider her request and it’s actually smart. Looking down at my pants, I need a few minutes myself.
“Hey, lover boy.” I slide a look toward Dave, who’s standing in the kitchen doorway, two bags in his hands. His eyebrow is still raised nearly to his hairline, but a grin is twitching the sides of his mouth. “Give her these bags, tell her to take a shower and I’ll bandage her up when she gets out.” He tosses them to me. “I picked up some pizza while I was out too, if you’re hungry.”
Knocking on the door again, I relay the message and am rewarded with the door opening just enough for her hand to stick through. I hang the handles on her fingers and she snatches it back, the turn of the lock immediately following the slam.
Adjusting myself, I head back to the kitchen to face the hell I know Dave will give me. I’m less than one foot in the small room before it starts. “Man, you gonna sign your death warrant with your damn dick?”
“Probably,” I mutter and reach for a roll of paper towels to clean the water up off the floor.
“Seriously, Jax. What the hell are you thinking? For all you know, that’s Mati Hari’s great-great-granddaughter in there.”
I can’t help it. That gets a laugh.
“Not funny, man. And I’m going to tell you something else not funny. While I was out, I saw a couple of banged up black SUVs cruising around. They’re looking. Looking close. So you need to pull your head out of that girl’s ass and get a strategy…”
Mmm. Mia’s ass and all the things I could do to it.
I get a towel in the face. “Seriously, Jax,” he yells, scowling at me. “You act like that’s the first pussy you’ve seen since…” He covers his face with his hands. “Sorry, man. Wrong place to go with that.”
I toss the towel back. “Truthful place to go with it.”
And that was the thing. The big thing. Bigger than the idea that Mia could be a spy, a liar, a traitor to her country was that I could see us fitting together. And how I felt like I was cheating on the woman I’d loved with every fiber of my being.
Promise me you’ll find love again.
Dave opens his fridge and brings out two beers. Pops the top off one and hands it to me. “You’ve not dated anyone since Laura?” he asks.
I shake my head and toss back a long sip.
“And this woman here, she’s special?”
I nod and gulp again.
“So not only are you dealing with not knowing who this girl is, what she is, you’re dealing with some fucked up shit about Laura? On top of running from your life from God knows who’s after you or what’s in that box. Oh, and let’s not forget that you’re also mourning your boss and several other co-workers. And none of us know what the shit is happening around the globe.”
“You a therapist now?”
Dave taps his temple. “Seen enough of them, I should be a shrink.”
“True that, brother,” I say and lift the bottle to his, clinking them together. “You sleeping better?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Most nights.”
“No more pills?”
He takes a drink. “No more pills. And no more than two beers a day. Didn’t want to switch one habit for another. Was hell breaking the first. Don’t think I could manage a second without eating a bullet.”
“War is hell.”
Dave shakes his head and takes another drink. “No. Life is hell. War is just the cherry on top with a big ripe worm in it.”
I’d laugh again if what he’d said wasn’t the truth. Life is hell, but it could also be bliss. A little slice of heaven even. Sometimes.
He picks up his iPad. “Now, let’s get you some wheels and figure out you and your hot ass spy’s next move.”
Chapter 14 - Mia
I shower until the water turns cold, then shower longer, punishing myself under the freezing water. When my teeth are chattering so hard my jaw almost feels numb, I turn it off and grab a towel to briskly dry off.
My body is a mess, bruises and scrapes everywhere, each muscle protesting as I step out of the tub. But underneath the pain is an aliveness, a humming vibrating through my system. I kissed Jax. Hard. And he kissed me back.
Hard.
Wiping the lingering steam from the mirror with my hand, I look myself in the eye. Who is that woman standing there? That woman who wants to have sex with a man only hours after meeting him? That woman, I don’t recognize. Because Mia Hewitt has a firm three date rule. If I like a man enough to go out with him three times, I’ll consider taking him to my bed. But dammit, it’s been a long time, over a year if I was counting, since I liked any of my dates enough for that.
But I like Jax.
And I shouldn’t.
But I do.
Winding a towel around my wet hair, I dig through the bags Dave so thoroughly provided. He thought of everything. Shampoo and conditioner as well as a thick, creamy liquid soap that I’ll need to remember to get out of the tub. He’d even bought razors, which had surprised me when I first peeked into the bag.
Seems like Dave has a soft side.
Like Jax.
Pulling out a bottle of lotion, I smile as I pour some into my hands and smooth it on. It smells wonderful. A mix of vanilla and lavender that I rub into my
stiff muscles, soothing over the scrapes that are plentiful on my knees and elbows.
He bought me a hairbrush and a comb, probably not knowing which would work better on my mop of hair. And ponytail holders and clips. Deodorant. Toothbrush and toothpaste. How thoughtful.
Digging further into the bag, I pull out the clothes. A bag of white underwear and several tank tops with built in bras that will save me from having to put back on my sweaty one. Yoga pants, both the tight legging ones and soft cotton boot legs. Long t-shirts and a sweater that I can layer over everything. Socks and a pair of flip-flops. A generic version of Keds.
At the bottom of the bag is face moisturizer and Chap Stick. No make-up. It probably only took one look at me to know I’m not really a make-up kind of girl. I always end up with lipstick on my teeth, or black smeared around my eyes. And I suck at putting on blush, ending up more clown like than seductive.
After pulling on the clothes and slipping my feet into the flip-flops, I comb through my tangles then pull my hair into a high messy bun, knowing I’ll regret putting it up wet later, but not caring right now.
As I slick Chap Stick on my lips after brushing my teeth for the full two minutes dentists recommend, I know I’m dragging this whole process out. How can I go back out there? My God, I had my fingers inside his pants, trying to grab his penis while my tongue was in his ear. I’d climbed into his lap, ground my sex into his. Let him feel me up. Felt him up too. Sucked on his tongue. Tried to devour his mouth. Wanted him inside me in every way possible.
Him. Jax. The man who thinks I’m a terrible person. The man who thinks my mom is … I swallow … was a terrible person. Oh my poor mother. Is she still lying on that floor? Did strange men come into her house and turn it upside down, looking for what I now possess? Did they leave her there? Should I call the police and let them know, like an anonymous tip, so she can at least be taken to a morgue? A funeral home? Something.
I don’t even know how to go about doing these things. I’d never had anyone close to me die before. I didn’t know my father, or any of my grandparents. No aunts or uncles. I’ve not even had a pet to die. I drop my face into my hands. Oh, Libby.
And the thoughts and heartache and confusion swirl around again.
There’s a soft knock at the door, then, “Mia, you okay?”
I blow my nose into a piece of toilet paper and open the door. The air leaves my lungs. He’s so handsome. So rugged looking. So … everything standing there. “Yes, I’m okay. Almost done.”
I feel the heat of his eyes on me as he looks up to the hair piled on top of my head, then down, all the way to my bare toes. “Dave get you everything you need?”
Managing a smile, I answer, “More than everything. Give me a minute and I’ll pack it up.”
Jax lifts a finger. “Just a second. He bought a bag he said you could use as a suitcase of sorts. Be right back.”
When he steps away, I can breathe again and with that rush of oxygen, try to pull my shit together. Turning back to the tub, I grab the shampoo, conditioner, and soap, wiping off the water. I stick them back into the plastic bag and tie it closed in case they spill.
I’m hanging my towel to dry when Jax is back, his large frame almost filling the entire width of the small bathroom. “Here.”
I smile at the black and white striped satchel, plenty big enough to fit all the things I now possess. “Your friend is very thoughtful,” I say, transferring everything into the bag.
“He’s a good man. Took a taxi to go pick up a 4-Runner I found that looks good. He should be back shortly. How are you feeling? Cuts? Dave bought an ace bandage to wrap your ribs, if you’ll let me take a look.”
I stare up at him.
He scratches at the scruff shadowing his jawline. “I won’t … I mean, I won’t take advantage of you again, Mia. Not like I did in the kitchen. I’m sorry for that.”
Oh no. His face. That beautiful face is a tight mask and I can read nothing in his eyes. “You didn’t. It’s okay.” I turn back to the mirror and shrug my sweater off. I’d only layered one of the tanks underneath. I regret that decision now as my tight nipples poke out through the thin fabric.
Jax steps behind me and into the reflection of the mirror. I look so small standing in front of him.
“Raise your arms.”
I do, wincing a little as my right one completely straightens over my head. He reaches for the hem of the tank and pulls it up, revealing my stomach, then my ribs. He stops just at my breasts.
I hear and feel him exhale.
The right side of my body is a mass of blue and black. I hold perfectly still as his fingers start at the bottom rib, pressing around the length, front to back, before moving to the next one, his large hand spanning nearly the width of my waist.
About half way up, I grit my teeth when he finds the sore spot. Actually, he finds more than one. His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I can feel the crack.” He presses again, and boy oh boy, can I feel it too.
“Sorry, baby.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t take my eyes from his in our reflection. He licks his lips and looks away, giving his head a little shake.
“I think you’ve cracked two ribs, just fractures, not all the way through. If we were in an ER, they would wrap them and tell you to rest. So … I’m going to wrap them, then we’ll head to a safe house and get you settled for the evening. Figure out what do to tomorrow.”
I nod.
As he winds the ace bandage around me, I watch his capable hands doing their work and change the subject. “Jax?”
He meets my eyes in the mirror again and lifts an eyebrow.
“What should I do about my mom? I can’t…” My face burns with emotion and I blow out a breath. “I know what you think about her, but I can’t stand the thought of leaving her like that. Alone. In the dark.”
His eyes soften with compassion. “When we get settled at the safe house, I’ll call in her location. It will need to be taped off anyway since it’s a crime scene.” He frowns. “Mia, tough question I need to ask right now, but do you know if there are any booby traps in the house? Because if I send men in and they get blown up, I’m going to be pissed.”
My knees buckle and he catches me around the waist, pulling me back against his chest.
“Do you think…? Seriously think?”
He nods. “It’s very possible. Here’s what I know. At almost the exact same time as I got the orders to take possession of that box, car bombs exploded in my home office and around the world. Coincidence? Maybe. But I don’t like coincidences. Especially this one, because now, all my buddies are dealing with much bigger shit than me, which means you and I are on our own, at least for the night. We have bad guys chasing us, wanting whatever is in that box. They might be wanting you too and I don’t know why. Not knowing why makes me twitchy.”
Even as he’s speaking, his thumb is stroking the skin of my stomach and I feel each movement all the way to my core.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him and mean it. I’m not even sure what I’m sorry for, but I say it anyway. “I wish I knew what to do to help, but I don’t. I know you might not believe me, but I’m just a normal person living a normal life. I have a few friends, not many because we moved so often when I was young, I found it hard to get close to anyone. My best friend was my mother. My second best friend is my cat.”
Oh, Libby. Dammit, why do I cry every time I think of her, even more than I cry for my mom? Because she’s innocent and I know my mom wasn’t?
Because my mom did bad things?
Because my mom was a spy?
I think about that hidden room, the wall simply sliding open like that.
My mom wasn’t who I thought she was, I realize that now.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Jax says into my hair, his hand stroking my stomach again. “We’ll get it figured out.”
Needing his warmth, I turn until I’m facing him and am enfolded into his arms. The rhythmic beat of his heart is reassuring benea
th my ear, his chin on top of my head, his hand moving back and forth on the skin not wrapped by the ace bandage.
At the other side of the house, a door opens and then closes. Dave is back. Good and horrible timing. I pull away and Jax lets me go, but reaches out to pull my tank back down over the bandage. “Finish gathering your things. We’ll need to head out shortly.”
It takes me only a minute to do what he asked, but I spend a few extra minutes gathering my composure. Grabbing the bag, I head back to the kitchen, where the scent of pizza makes my stomach growl. Loudly.
“Hungry?” Jax asks and points to the pizza boxes on the table.
“Wasn’t sure what you like, so I got a cheese and then one with almost everything,” Dave adds, then opens the fridge. “Water or a soda this time?”
“Water’s perfect, thank you.”
He hands me a bottle and I grab a slice of cheese, digging in.
“Thank you for the clothes and everything else,” I say after a couple of bites. “It’s all perfect. You should think about becoming a personal shopper.”
He grins. “I kinda already am. My twin sister is disabled and doesn’t get out much. She lives a couple doors down and I do most of her shopping. She likes clothes that are comfortable and that she can layer, so…” He shrugs and goes back to what he was doing before, which looks like organizing medical supplies. “Take a seat while you eat and I’ll butterfly your foot.”
I sit and pull said foot up until I can see my heel. “I think it’s closing alright on its own.”
Dave sits down and looks for himself. “Yeah, it is, but if you have to do a lot more walking or running for any reason, it’s better that I close it now. I’ll also pad it so that you can stop walking on your toes so much.”
Reaching for another slice of pizza, I watch him do his work. He finishes with a small ace bandage. “This will keep everything in place better. More comfortable than lots of tape.”
“Thanks. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
He fastens the bandage, then pushes back and stands up. “No problem. Jax would do the same for me.”
Badass: Deadly Target (Complete): Military Romantic Suspense Page 9
