He decided to test her as those red flags waved back and forth. Despite his massive erection, his uncontrollable desire, he wasn’t going to let it go any further. It was time to find out what the hell was going on. He owed it to himself. He had to put his foot down, or he knew he’d fall down a rabbit hole and never get out.
Mason sighed. “I wouldn’t mind unloading…” He kept his tone cool. He played along.
She lapped it up and cooed, “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Unloading my load?” he teased.
“Whatever you want. Let’s see if I can make it better.”
He balked at the audacity of the statement but forced a chuckle. The more he saw it, the more certain he became. She was an operative. He knew it.
It was disappointing to say the least. He wished she were real. But now he needed answers. Who did she work for? And why him?
Unrelenting, Avery pressed on, “Come, sit. Tell me all.”
Like any man could deny a beautiful naked woman sitting in front of him, operative or not. He still had a raging hard-on. He was still a hungry animal. His dick yelled at him to forget his concerns.
But Mason couldn’t. He’d been observing Avery all day, and he could see more now. She changed whenever she pressed him for information about work. That was the key, the pressure point. She wanted to know about his job. She knew he was a SEAL. Did she know he was DEVGRU?
He had to see for himself.
Mason knelt before her and took the tumbler out of her hand. He gave her the bottle of whisky instead.
“Do you want to play a game?” he asked her, pleased to see the flush of arousal in her breasts, neck, and cheeks. It was a self-serving method of getting to the bottom of things, and he loved games that promised a win-win ending.
“Of course,” she breathed, watching him kneel before her. “I love games.”
Perfect. “I’m going to ask you a question, and if you are honest, I’ll do this.” He pushed open her thighs and slowly kissed the inside of her legs.
She shuddered in response and softly moaned. His hard cock twitched against the side of his thigh in response.
“And if you lie to me, you have to take a drink.” He motioned to the bottle.
“Why would I lie to you?” she laughed.
Only someone who’d lie would say that, Mason thought with a grin. “Just play with me.”
“And how do you know if I’m being honest?”
He raised an eyebrow at her sardonically. “Really?”
“Yes,” she pushed. “How?”
“Try me.”
She eyed him suspiciously and then relented. “I told you the truth about my business trip to India.”
Mason let his tongue taste the inside of her thigh, which was a fucking treat. Her vanilla-scented skin was so soft. Rare and pure. And something else. He couldn’t put his finger on it. It was full-on sweetness.
“More,” he said.
She sighed. “I run social media marketing campaigns for a top-five international weapons manufacturer. It’s a shit business.”
He could tell she was trying her best. Any other man would have believed her. She was damn good. A practiced professional.
If he hadn’t had so much field training, he wouldn’t have questioned her honesty. But he’d been meeting with sources alongside the CIA for many, many tours. Even in sub-Saharan Africa. He knew what people tended to do, and her game was compromised. The thrill of being in control overtook him, and spurred him on even more than his desire for information.
Because he hadn’t kissed her thigh again, she nodded, accepting her fate, and took a long swig of whisky.
After making an adorable face at the strong taste, she grumbled, “This should be fun.”
“What do you do for work?” he asked. “Answer me honestly this time.”
Avery shot him a look. His face remained deadpan.
As they locked eyes, he watched her soften and look regretful. She groaned in frustration as he licked his lips between her thighs, waiting to reward her.
“I can’t talk about it,” she relented quickly, exhaling. “I wish I could. I promise.”
She closed her eyes with regret and a pained look crossed her face. It was an incredibly honest reaction, and Mason was thrilled that she was starting to be truthful with him, even if she couldn’t tell him what he wanted.
It wasn’t just his professional training. He’d come to learn a great deal about Avery’s behavior in their short time together. He could tell a lie from the truth. He’d been watching her, filing away data points, and creating a larger matrix in his mind of who she was. But there was something else… something between them that helped him read her.
As she hung her head at her admission, he rewarded her honesty fully and enthusiastically as he slipped his hand between her thighs and traced all the way up to her melting core. The motion drove her wild. Grazing against her throbbing clit, she moaned, and he pulled his hand back to taste what he’d touched. She was just as sweet as he’d hoped. He had no doubt. He went back in and started bringing her closer to what she was looking for.
“Damn. I hope you keep telling me the truth.” He breathed at her as he worked her to orgasm. She moaned in agreement.
After the reprieve, he went for what he really wanted to know. What he had to know.
“Are you here for work?” he asked.
She shot him another serious look. Concerned. Troubled. Scared?
“No,” she said, and her legs widened, inviting him in further.
He waited.
She took a drink, a long drink, and eyed him helplessly. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please…”
Her begging was his undoing. Mason’s heart picked up. She’d finally admitted it. She was trusting him.
The energy between them tightened, and he felt a wave of something unexplainable as he kissed all the way up her right thigh until he reached her Brazilian-waxed lower lips. He loved that smoothness. That softness. He pressed her thighs wider and slowly tasted her.
She moaned out an “oh, god,” and her legs shook as he pressed harder against her clitoris, rhythmically. She was close.
He pulled back and looked up at her. Desperately, she gazed down at him, looking more unfocused than before.
“Tell me, Avery,” he breathed against her throbbing core, “do you know who I am?”
She paused, looking down breathlessly. He could only imagine what was going on in her head. But she didn’t have to answer. Her face told him everything.
He could hardly believe how much he had learned in a conversation where she’d barely said anything at all. He’d never been able to see a woman so clearly before in his life, and it was all the more ironic that the woman in question was an ice-cold professional operator. There was just something about Avery that spoke to him, and had since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.
But his giant erection was talking too, and their bodies were demanding attention, demanding their minds shut the hell up for a moment.
Exasperated, she hung her head back, exposing her long swan neck and bouncing, supple breasts. The sight alone, mixed with the sweet wetness before him, was enough to release his load.
Rather than allowing his erection to burst right there beside the hot tub, he did what any operator could do and jumped headfirst into battle, well knowing the risks. He plunged his mouth into her pussy, lashing his tongue quick and hard against her sweet flesh. He had to reward her for not lying.
She knew who he was. She knew he was a SEAL. That was all fucking clear as day. But at that moment, they’d reached an equilibrium. A place of mutual understanding. A foundation to build upon.
He kissed and lapped and licked hard until her soft moans grew louder and he was swimming in the wetness that had begun pouring from her core.
Shaking slightly, she wrapped her hands around his shoulders and moved them inexpertly down to his member. Her jerking movements were not subtle, and not what he’d expect from a season
ed woman. They were the movements of a woman who hadn’t had an orgasm in a while, at least not at the hands of a man. Now he really wanted to know what her job was. She clearly wasn’t some type of sex worker.
Who was Avery?
Taking control again, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the room. He laid her on the bed, and she looked back at him with flushed cheeks and expectant eyes. He held her hips down before him, her hairless pussy exposed, while he stood at the end of the bed, looking down on her. She gave herself up and allowed him to manhandle her, to take control of the moment. Nothing turned him on more.
“Is this what you want?” he asked softly.
She came up on her elbows, still her seductive self but with a much more vulnerable side. She was no longer the calculating operator from the beach but a raw, feeling, warm, sexy woman that he wanted to tear up with his cock.
“Let me see,” she demanded, leaning forward and trying to take off his pants.
He shook his head, stilling her hands. He wanted to hear her say it.
She leaned back and remained on her elbows, lying on the bed in front of him.
“Tell me what you want,” he ordered. His tone was firm and commanding.
She grinned, understanding his game. The woman was playful, he’d give her that. He liked staying in control, and she seemed more than happy to play along.
“I want your cock in my mouth,” she replied. “And then I want you to fuck me.”
That much was true. But he laughed, because she had missed his point. “Tell me who you are,” he asked, standing without touching her.
Avery again looked up at him, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder. She eyed him disobediently, and Mason wondered how much it would take to teach her that he was still the boss.
She tested the waters. “Take off your pants,” she replied. “And join me.”
Her lips framed a gorgeous white smile that beamed up at him sinfully. Her orders were hot enough to send a grown man to his knees, but Mason controlled himself. He had to.
“Please?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you meant to say?” He stood his ground, and she sighed in submission.
“Pretty please.” She grinned.
“Nah, I don’t think you want it that bad.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You have no idea how much I want you right now,” she said in disbelief. “What do I have to do?”
He crossed his arms. “Tell me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t give a woman an orgasm like that and refuse to fuck her. Now, please do this. For me,” she begged.
He chuckled. “Fuck, you are hot when you beg for it. Makes me forget about the ‘who’s Avery?’ problem.”
It was true. He was on the verge on caving. His compliments seemed to bring up her spirits, and she sat up straighter.
“I really want it. Please.” She leaned in closer and put her hands on his abdomen.
He made a show of considering her words before shaking his head. “I don’t think you really do.” It was fun being in control. His eyes were wide with arousal, and watching her squirm before him was driving him insane.
She leaned back on the bed until she was lying down. “Let me show you,” she said, “just how bad I want you.”
With the devil in her eyes, Avery rolled over onto her tummy and then knelt on the bed, her perky ass high in the air in front of his face. Mason’s mouth dropped at the view, and he knew he was screwed. The professional spread her legs so he could see everything, knowing exactly how to make a man cry. Running her fingers down her slit, she entered herself slowly, and then faster.
“This…” she moaned.
Mason realized he had put himself in a losing position. The amazing Avery had once again flipped the tempo. He’d have to remind himself next time that she always had tricks up her sleeve. It was almost laughable how quickly she’d stolen that control from him. She’d taken the game to the next level, and he’d lost it immediately.
If he moved an inch, he wouldn’t be able to manage his burning desire to plunge his cock deep inside her. And certainly not while watching her do that. Watching her do that thing he liked to see. Oh, he fucking liked it.
“Right here…” she continued breathlessly, bringing herself to orgasm again. Real or fake, it was a damn sexy show.
He groaned. “You’ve won the battle.” He shook his head. He had to remain stoic. “But you aren’t going to win the war.”
She moaned louder as she fingered herself in front of him, bent over. Watching the absolute babe in front of him doing that to herself, talking the whole time about how bad she wanted his cock in there… it was enough. Mason felt ejaculate rise to the tip of his cock. He was going to come in his pants if he kept watching her, like some sort of waking wet dream.
But he couldn’t leave. And he suspected she knew that. And that was what made Avery a damn good operator, he mused. Well done.
Why couldn’t he just fuck her? She wanted it.
He held himself back. Torturing himself.
She moaned harder, faster. She was visibly wetter.
He wanted to lunge forward.
But he kept his arms crossed, thinking about cold showers, sub-Saharan sandstorms, and military-grade Salisbury steak. When thinking about the Navy wasn’t enough, he tried thinking about the fucking Army to diminish his feverish desire. His inner battle between the desire to let go and the need to protect himself was going to be his undoing. She was challenging his innermost code, which was all too appropriate, given how he’d felt about it lately.
“I want to feel you right here,” she breathed, bringing herself to another orgasm in front of him.
As she cried out, and Mason saw the liquid drip down her legs, he couldn’t take it anymore. He snapped. He pushed her down on the bed ferociously, and her face landed hard on the pillows. He didn’t care. She needed it rough. She needed to be taught a lesson.
Keeping her ass in the air, he grabbed each firm cheek and brought her wet pussy to his mouth, lapping up every drop of her self-made orgasm. He couldn’t let that good pussy go to waste. Her moans turned to screams as he feverishly tasted and touched her.
Finally, he brought himself back up and slapped her ass hard. And again. And again.
“Oh!” she cried out. “Oh!”
He was pleased to see the pink flush spread over her cheeks. “That was for lying to me,” he growled. “You’d better be honest tomorrow, or you’ll be in deeper trouble.”
He gave her ass one final slap, just because he could. Just to remind her who was boss.
His dick was harder than steel. He was losing it. With whatever shred of self-control he still had, auto-pilot took him swiftly out of her bedroom and out of her villa. He surprised himself with his ability to get the fuck out, a testament to the unbearable training the SEALs had put him through.
The boardwalk brought him back to the hotel and then back to his section, where he nearly sprinted to his villa. Inside, he flipped on the hottest shower he could and jerked off to every single memory he had of her. He came once and then jerked off again, savoring the taste of her unbelievable orgasm in his mouth.
He had never wanted to fuck a woman so badly in his life. And he hadn’t. He was an idiot.
Best birthday ever?
Fuck life.
Everything was awful.
The cat-and-mouse game had become exhausting, and he had no idea why he had mentioned tomorrow to her. Was he truly a glutton for punishment? Or did he still harbor the belief that he could crack her little facade and feel ethically entitled to fuck the shit out of her?
Not at all satiated, Mason crashed in a pile of white sheets on his lonely bed, far away from the badass chick he wished he were spooning. As he closed his eyes, willing himself to pass out, he didn’t feel like he was on vacation. He just felt isolated, and too fucking far away from the only other human on Earth he wanted to be with.
It’s cool having a code, he thought b
itterly.
8
Avery woke up the morning after her soirée with Mason feeling hungover and empty. Literally.
She felt a void in her aching core where she wished Mason had been. She rolled onto her back and rubbed her hands over her face.
She needed to make some serious changes to her game plan. The mission had suddenly become about information… and sex.
Information for her boss.
Sex for her.
Both items she planned on conquering before the day was out. The inherent conflict between the two roiled in her mind, and she pressed on by convincing herself that she could have both.
She launched herself out of bed. Today was the day she was going to break Mason Ajax and come out on top. She was the best agent out there, and there were many moments the previous day when she’d had him hooked. She’d seen it. She just had to capitalize on those moments.
She chose her hottest, skimpiest, Italian-made black bikini. She worked hard on her hair and makeup. Beach ready. Water friendly. Seductive as hell. She was a fucking model. No, she was hotter than a model—she was a goddess. She was fierce.
Strutting down the boardwalk in the sunrise, she made her way with long, confident strides to Mason’s villa. It was too early, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t sleep any longer. She ached to see him.
Oh, she knew exactly where he was staying. She’d made it her business to know. The villas weren’t that well secured, and she was an expert at breaking and entering. She slunk into his place, quieter than a mouse, and listened for the sounds of a man sleeping. She didn’t hear anything. Maybe he didn’t make noise when he slept?
Suspicions rose in her mind, and her muscles tensed. Strong thick hands grabbed her and pulled her into a lock. Heavy forearms and biceps threatened to squeeze her to death.
God damn it, he was a ninja.
Eyes On Page 7
